Chapter 2
Andrea's hands were on her breasts, her mouth nibbled at Ginny's hungrily-and Ginny, caught up in the tumult of her own released desires, responded with a steadily increasing passion. She responded with her own mouth, her tongue and her eagerly pushing breasts, swollen now from Andrea's hot touches.
All the years of loneliness, the dark nights of sad solitary confinement, and the secret wishing times seemed to bubble up inside her, fighting their way through to consciousness, and from consciousness to this-the act itself, the real thing. Not the way she had pictured it, but there, love, passion, full-blown emotion. No, not in her wildest of secret dreams had she imagined it would be like this. Not with a girl, not with Andrea.
But it was like this and the more Andrea kissed and caressed her, the more she wanted it to be just like this. The floodgates had opened and all of her locked-in passions were rushing through in a surge of blessed relief.
Between her legs, Ginny could feel the fire and the dampness. She felt the pulsing of her cunt, eagerly thrusting its puffed lips toward Andrea, to make contact, to feel her own cunt against hers. And Andrea, swept up with the urgency of her own desires, slid on top of Ginny, pressing against her, breasts crushing breasts, vagina grinding against vagina.
Despite herself, Ginny moaned with the pleasure of Andrea's mounting. And then Andrea was unbuttoning her own pajamas. Eagerly, Ginny slid out of her tops while Andrea was pulling off her bottoms, then Ginny's, until their bodies met in the moonlit darkness in naked abandon, flesh to flesh, body to body, mouth to mouth.
Ginny gushed her love for Andrea deep inside her virginal well. Her body writhed in the flames of Andrea's caresses. No longer were her thoughts confused by what should have been or what might have been. She wanted Andrea and her love. She wanted it all over her and all through her.
Andrea's hand slipped down between Ginny's legs. She found the damp nest. She clung to the stiff springy hairs, pushing hard against the fleshy mound. Ginny nearly swooned with the exquisite touching. This was what she wanted! Her mind seemed to be shrieking. This was what she needed!
The blonde girl's finger, then, slipped past the moistened portals, found the fallow honeypot. Ginny bit her own lip to keep from crying out. She felt her loins go weak while throbbing with a strange eager power. Andrea's finger was touching so many things, so many good places! Like it?" Andrea whispered.
"I love it," Ginny cooed softly.
Andrea, knowing what to look for, found Ginny's love-button and stroked it into a slender hardness while her friend nearly fainted from the flood-warmth of this new touch. She drenched Andrea's probing finger with the oils of her passion and Andrea melted with the realization of what she had done. Her own well gushed without any interior caress to open the tap. "You came," she whispered to Ginny.
"Yes, yes, oh yes," she moaned.
Both of them embraced anew, holding close to each other's body.
"Touch me down there," Andrea told her. "Like I'm doing to you."
Suddenly Ginny wanted to. She wanted to give Andrea the same pleasure she was being given. In that first touching of her finger to Andrea's private parts, Ginny crossed a threshold that had long loomed as an inaccessible chasm. The inhibitions instilled in her by a sundry amalgam of disparate factors, environ mental, hereditary, parental, and scholastic, all seemed to converge on a pinpoint from some fathomless depth. In touching Andrea, in feeling the soft yielding flesh of her vagina, Ginny stepped away from her imprisoned past. The pinpoint broke off; the pain was infinitesimal, the glory of the single brief moment a song that rose to her lips, a floodtide of pent-up passion that broke over the barricades and flooded her in a crashing sea of pleasure.
"Oh thank you, Ginny," Andrea moaned as Ginny's finger penetrated her vaginal lips. "You're so very sweet."
Gingerly, Ginny probed deeper, past Andrea's pneumatic portals, into the fleshy cavern where the honey bubbled and sang in its heated cauldron. Knowing that where she penetrated was the innermost sacristy of pleasure, gave Ginny a satisfaction she had never known before. More than pleasure, it gave her a sense of belonging, of initiation, finally, into the profound mysteries of life-mysteries that had been denied her until now.
Deeper went her finger, pushing and being sucked inward by Andrea's eager cunt. She felt Andrea's whole body respond to her thrust as though galvanized. She herself gushed her juices with Andrea's own tingling finger until orgasm exploded deep within her once again.
It seemed so simple to learn these things, Ginny thought. It wasn't really learning, but something that was known instinctively. Her own body was like Andrea's and what felt good to her would also feel good to her friend. It was that simple. But the exquisite part was how her body seemed to vibrate on the touches of Andrea. The last orgasm had seemed to shake her like a sapling in a windstorm, an uncontrollable palsy that had been tingling with the excitement and rapture of sex.
"What do you think now?" Andrea whispered to Ginny.
"I can't think. I feel great," Ginny whispered back.
"This isn't all there is to it, you know."
"It isn't?" Ginny could hardly believe it.
"No. Listen, have you ever heard boys talking about eating pussy?"
"Yes, I guess so," said Ginny, although she wasn't sure she heard it from a boy.
"Well, that's what I mean."
"I don't follow you," said Ginny.
"Be still and let me turn around. I'll show you."
"I always thought it was a joke," said Ginny as Andrea turned over. "It's no joke, baby."
Before she went down on Ginny, Andrea glanced again at Mary, who was still peacefully sleeping with her back turned to the two girls. With a sigh, Andrea's mouth found the bushy fragrance of Ginny's thighs. Her body lay alongside of Ginny, and Ginny stiffened at the new touch, the new act. The hairs on her legs stood on end as a tingle of excitement coursed through her body.
Andrea's mouth found Ginny's labia and her tongue pushed its way past the softness into the honey-filled interior. It slid deeper inside until it found the swollen node of her clit. The touch of her tongue on it caused Ginny's body to react spasmodically. She jerked once, then lay still as an overwhelming sea of delights inundated her. Her brain swarmed once again with a million disconnected thoughts. So it was true, after all. It was, as Andrea had said, no joke. She could feel Andrea's mouth on her organ, her tongue inside her, touching that part of her that was like an exposed electric cord with thousands of tingling volts smashing through it. Her hips fell away and she spread her young legs wide so that Andrea could go deeper, deeper with her vibrant tongue.
"Oh, my God, that feels so goddamned good," she moaned.
Andrea dove deeper with her tongue. It seemed to Ginny that Andrea's tongue was made of pure fire. It touched parts of her that ignited her whole being. She was wracked with a series of uncontrollable orgasms that seemed to follow one another with a machine-gun-like rapidity. Just when she would think it was over with, Andrea would touch another spot and the electricity would course through her with a fiery abandon. At the last of these series, Andrea had suddenly shifted her position, throwing her leg over Ginny's face and shoulder until she was straddling her. Ginny knew what she wanted. She looked up and saw the hairy crotch of her friend. It loomed over her like some forbidden hanging garden. She hesitated, unsure of herself. Then Andrea gently lowered her pussy so that it was right over Ginny's face. And she stopped her tonguing of Ginny's clit for a fraction of a moment.
Ginny reached up and pulled on Andrea's buttocks, bringing her pussy down to her lips. She buried her face in the luxuriance. She was awkward at first, but she used her nose to find Andrea's slit buried in the bush. She put her mouth on the soft lips and hesitatingly pushed her tongue out until it touched flesh. Then Andrea resumed her violent tonguing. Spurred on by this, Ginny forced her own tongue into the wet channel of Andrea's cunt. She ran it up and down Andrea's slit and felt her girl friend's body move gently in a sideways rhythm. Ginny pushed deeper and felt the many folds of lubricated flesh inside Andrea. Searching, eager now, she found the elusive clit and pushed her mouth in so that she could suck it inside. Andrea's body shuddered as orgasm flushed her cunt full of juices.
Ginny reveled in the delight she knew she was bringing to her friend. She sucked and tongued with an abandon that surprised her, even though she had thought she had had an end to surprises. Andrea's pussy throbbed and bounced at her tonguing with a primitive series of jerking movements as stab after stab of pleasure brought her to climax.
A few moments later, exhausted, the two girls broke off their lovemaking and resumed their former positions. Andrea held Ginny tightly in her arms and kissed her ears and her neck.
"It was all so good," said Ginny.
"I know. You make a good lover," said Andrea.
They lay there with each other for a long time, breathing heavily, each thinking her own private thoughts.
"I'd better go up to my own bunk before I fall asleep," Andrea said.
"Yeah, though it feels so good with you here. Andrea...."
"Yes?"
"Thank you. I've-I've never felt so good before. In my whole life."
"Me neither."
"Good night."
"Good night, sweet," said Andrea, imparting a kiss on Ginny's cheek.
She slipped reluctantly out from under the covers, retrieved her pajamas and put them on before climbing up into her bunk.
Outside the cabin, Belle Stern took a deep sigh and tiptoed away from the pine tree where she had watched for so long. Her eyes burned with a fierce light and her heart pumped wildly in her breast. Her own loins ached with a dull unquenched fire. Belle slipped wearily into her own cabin. The day had taken a lot out of her. She didn't know how to react to the tableau she had just witnessed. Her own feelings were very mingled. Desire had flooded her just as it had Ginny and Andrea, and she felt unfulfilled. On one side she knew she was now possessed of valuable information. Her first duty was to the camp and its discipline.
But her duty to herself as a woman held some importance too.
She dressed disconsolately for bed and, before lying down, took a look at herself in the mirror. She ran her hands once through her thick short hair and sighed.
She was still attractive; her figure was athletic, but feminine enough, she decided. It was her age that bothered her. Seeing those two girls, at the beginning of their prime, made her feel a lot older than she was.
She knew that Andrea had seduced Ginny. That was plain to see. That, too, excited Belle, and she wondered if her own advances would receive the same fervor, now that the ice was broken. Not here. Not at camp, of course. But in town, on Sunday afternoon, just the two of them, strolling in the vast woods that surrounded them. Belle wondered what kind of reception she would get.
But there was Mary. Grateful that she had slept through the scene, Belle was still apprehensive about her. Mary was the clean-cut type who would not only report such goings on, but insist that both girls be sent home. That would do it! One didn't send rich girls like Ginny and Andrea home without some explanation and the real one would just about finish Wood Dell. Belle knew all this and the weight of decision, several decisions, weighed heavily on her shoulders.
The single most annoying fact about her discovery was that she identified with both Ginny and Andrea. Like Ginny, she too had been seduced, not at a summer camp, but at a girl's school she had attended. And, like Ginny, it had been her best girl friend. Like Andrea, she had found the same pleasure in "bringing out" the latent sexuality of a young and innocent girl. Nostalgia swarmed over Belle as she went to bed alone.
Tomorrow she would have her hands full. She would wait and see how things developed. That was really all she could do. She hoped there wouldn't be any trouble. She prayed that there wouldn't be. It all depended on so many things and, not least of all, herself. With a sigh, she snuggled under her covers and hoped she would know what to do and be able to come up with the right solution.
Outside, a hunting owl soared past her window on silent wings and a few moments later there was the scream of a rabbit up on the slope as the captor found its soft throat with sure strong talons and a ripping beak. The night closed around Belle and she slept, with the moonlight casting long fat shadows across the floor of her cabin.