Chapter 1

It was late afternoon and an attractive blonde lay on her back smiling as the sex sweat dried on her body. She was basking in the afterglow of some the most delicious lovemaking she'd ever experienced. Turning her head to one side, the woman admired the sleeping form of her young lover.

She was a gorgeous creature. Her body was at that exquisite, fleeting stage between little girl and teen hottie, when hips begin to grow round and breasts begin to swell. Asleep, she looked like an angel with thick, dark hair framing her face, long eyelashes brushing her smooth cheeks. Her full lips, now somewhat bruised, were parted as she breathed quietly in her sleep. Only twenty minutes earlier, those lips were sucking the older woman's labia, and the memory of that lovely young face between her thighs was enough to make her weak with desire all over again.

The blonde woman had put the young girl through her paces, no mistake. She'd kissed and licked every inch of her youthful flesh, including her adorable toes and puckered anus. The girl's skin was so smooth and supple and flawless she couldn't seem to touch it enough. She'd used all of her skills, acquired through years of practice, to bring the youngster to orgasm many times.

Then she had demanded the girl perform those same acts on her.

Finally, the older woman had shown the girl how they could do each other at the same time, and they'd rolled over and over on the damp sheets, each of them crying and screaming into the other's sopping pussy.

Soon it would be time to wake the girl up and send her home. But she still had a few minutes to reflect on how quickly it had all come together, and to look forward to a whole summer of forbidden pleasure with her new fuck toy.

Earlier that day, Melinda Lunsford surveyed the Westchester Country Club pool through her oversized designer sunglasses. Scattered around the pool was a bevy of affluent housewives like herself, soaking up the June sunshine and flaunting their pricey designer swimwear. Some were keeping a close watch on their toddlers' swimming lesson at the shallow end of the pool. A group of four women were finishing a late lunch and, based on the volume and pitch of their voices, enjoying a second or maybe a third cocktail.

A movement caught her eye. Melinda's friend Brooke waved, motioning her to an empty chair. She headed directly for the spot, forcing a waiter with a tray of drinks to step out of her way. "Hey, girl," Melinda said, bending to kiss her friend on both cheeks, European style.

"Hey, babe," said Brooke. Drink?"

"Why yes, I believe I will. What are you having?"

"Margarita on the rocks."

"Perfect." Melinda signaled to a waiter. "Another margarita for Mrs. Leslie and one for me. And please don't be too long--I'm absolutely dying of thirst."

Both women scanned the pool as they waited for their drinks. "Have you spotted any new talent?" Melinda asked after a minute.

"Well ... you've seen the Collins girl, right?"

"Mmm. She is a sweetie." Sarah Collins was sixteen years old and one of the junior lifeguards assisting with the swimming lessons. A willowy blonde with striking blue eyes, she was at that moment supporting a little boy as he kicked and splashed in the chlorinated water.

"But something tells me," said Brooke, "that she is more to your taste." As Melinda watched, a vision of jailbait loveliness stepped out of the pool. Another junior lifeguard, the youngster had dark hair tied back in a ponytail and a rounded, cherubic face. She wore an athletic style two-piece bathing suit, designed to stay in place and not reveal too much. But Melinda could hardly overlook the girl's ripening body.

Why would an attractive thirty-one year old housewife be drawn to a young female lifeguard? Simply put, Melinda and Brooke were closeted lesbians whose passion was seducing young girls.

The women had met three years earlier when Melinda and her husband joined the Club. Acceptance at the Westchester was a momentous event in the lives of the young couple, indicating to themselves and the world that they had "arrived." Melinda and her husband Todd were the product of well-to-do families with high expectations. They had been given every advantage in life including good looks, education at top drawer universities, and influential friends.

Now after five years of marriage, the couple had achieved many of their ambitions. Todd was an absurdly well compensated bond trader on Wall Street. They had a huge, impressive house in a wooded suburb in Westchester County, an hour by train from Manhattan. Todd drove to the station every morning in a Lexus, while Melinda ran errands in a BMW convertible. They had closets full of tasteful and expensive clothes, beautiful furnishings and every convenience known to mankind.

But Melinda quickly discovered that the trappings of success left her unsatisfied. There was one element missing from her idyllic life: the passionate lesbian sex she had first tasted at her exclusive boarding school, and explored further at the elite all-women's college from which she had graduated with honors.

Melinda had met Brooke shortly after joining the Westchester, and they'd had a brief, stormy affair. They soon decided that they were both too headstrong to be a good match as lovers. The women had remained friends, however, and shared a common interest in the delights of teenaged girls. At that point it was only a fantasy, but after many false starts Brooke had succeeded in luring a seventeen-year-old high school senior to her bed.

For nearly a full year she had kept Melinda enthralled with stories of the girl's svelte teenaged body and her willingness to experiment sexually. The next summer Melinda had found her own young lover, a sixteen-year-old tennis prodigy. Since those early conquests, both women had sampled the charms of half a dozen young lovelies, and Brooke had pointed out that as they aged (gracefully, it must be said), the girls they enjoyed seemed to get younger--Melinda's latest had been only fourteen.

"So what do you know about her?" asked Melinda, as both women watched the brunette lifeguard enter the pool hand-in-hand with a frightened toddler.

"Not much. She just started working yesterday. Her mother is newly widowed."

"Really? How wonderfully tragic. How old is she?"

"Guess."

This was a game the friends played often. They were both connoisseurs of young girlflesh, and took a keen interest in the endless variety of adolescent development. The ages of twelve to sixteen were such a delicate phase. Some matured very early, quickly rounding into the shapes they would assume in later years, while others retained the boyish figures of childhood well into their teens.

The girl in question appeared to fall somewhere in the middle. Though her frame was not yet full-grown, she had quite prominent breasts, a deliciously rounded bottom, and a layer of baby fat produced the hint of a roll above the waistband of her bathing suit. There was also a suggestion of the slightly protruding belly that Melinda adored. She knew that a girl with this sort of a figure could easily run to fat as she aged if she wasn't careful.

But there was little danger of that for years to come. Right now, she was the ideal embodiment of Melinda's lust. Her skin was absolutely smooth and unblemished, in the way that only the skin of the very young can be. There was not a single pimple, stretch mark or any other flaw to mar her youthful perfection.

"Hmmm. I'd say fifteen going on sixteen," Melinda guessed.

"Ha! You're way off. She won't be fourteen until November."

Melinda sucked in her breath. My god! she thought. Only thirteen...

"I claim her," said Melinda. "She's mine."

"Not if I get to her first, bitch."

The two randy dykes smiled at each other. This was going to be such fun.

Ninety minutes later Melinda was feeling reckless. She'd just drained her third margarita and the tequila had done its work. Brooke had disappeared somewhere--probably scouting for new girls to seduce. Melinda was just thinking about going to look for her when the little lifeguard of her dreams walked by in the direction of the pool house.

She and Brooke had been waiting for this moment since the swimming lesson ended, but Dream Girl had lingered by the pool to catch some rays. Melinda lowered her sunglasses to watch the girl walk by. She was just as flawless at close range. Her skin fairly radiated youth and good health, her budding breasts jiggled only very slightly with each step. Melinda risked checking out her butt as she walked away, and it was perfect. It twitched nicely as she walked, and the fabric of her bikini bottom was drawn up just a little into her crack.

"Jesus," Melinda whispered. She stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette and followed.

Melinda paused as she entered the building. She needed a strategy ... how best to make her approach? From Brooke she'd learned a few more details about her quarry, including her name, Courtney. The really juicy bit of gossip, though, was reason the poor child was now fatherless. He had been a top executive at a high-powered investment firm that had gone belly up, losing billions in investor money. When it became clear he might be indicted for his role in the fiasco he'd blown his brains out with a Glock 9mm. Melinda wondered how she could use this information to her advantage.

As Melinda entered the dressing room, Courtney had just wrapped herself modestly in a towel and headed towards the large communal shower. Melinda cursed her timing--she had missed seeing the girl undress. Naturally, she decided she needed a shower herself.

Melinda had no qualms about revealing her body to the young girl. At age thirty-one, the errant wife had never been in better shape. She was blessed with a good figure, and hours in the club gym kept it that way. Her spectacular D-cup breasts had been attracting the attention of both men and women since she was fifteen. And while Melinda enjoyed the sun, she always protected her skin with sunscreen. She did not want to end up like those women who spent half the year in Florida, and whose skin was as rough as alligator hide by age fifty. She quickly peeled off her black Dolce & Gabbana bikini and stepped into the shower room.

Melinda took the shower next to Courtney's. Standing beside the girl it was clear that she still had a lot of growing up to do. Melinda was nearly a head taller, and she saw that Courtney's figure was far from fully developed. Careful not to stare, she checked out the girl's breasts. They were even more beautiful than she had imagined. High and upturned, they had pink cone-shaped aureoles that jutted out, begging to be sucked. The girl's hips were nicely rounded but still almost boyishly narrow. Melinda didn't dare let her eyes linger...

Why, she's still just a child, Melinda thought. But a child ripe for the plucking.

"Hi, I'm Melinda," she said brightly. "Are you new here?"

The girl looked up shyly. "Um, yeah. I'm Courtney. I'm a lifeguard here." Melinda watched as the young teen took in her mature nakedness. The girl's eyes loitered on her full breasts and clean shaven pussy. Then she quickly turned away and resumed lathering her nubile body.

"Wow, a lifeguard. How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"My goodness. That seems like a lot of responsibility for someone so young."

"It's not so hard. And my mom says I need to be more responsible since--since my dad..." The girl turned toward the wall and covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders began to heave with sobs.

"Oh, sweetheart ... I'm so sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

Courtney shook her head back and forth, unable to speak. The compassionate woman in Melinda felt her heart go out to the child in her suffering. The confirmed lecher in her saw an opening.

"Honey, come here," she said, putting her arms around the girl. "Let me give you a hug." Melinda pulled the youngster tight against her body. In grief Courtney forgot her shyness, and nestled her face right between Melinda's wet, naked breasts. "That's right sweetie, you go ahead and cry," Melinda said, rubbing the girl's back.

The poor child did cry, for a good five minutes. It seems the gods of lust were with Melinda because no one else came into the shower during that time. Not that she was doing anything amiss--yet. But just the same it might be a little hard to explain. Gradually Courtney's sobs died away. After another moment she looked up, and Melinda smiled at her.

"There now," she said. "Do you feel better?"

Courtney nodded and smiled back. Then she giggled. "But I made a mess all over your boobs." Melinda looked down and saw the girl's tears and snot smeared on her breast. Courtney reached out to wipe it away then quickly drew back her hand, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, I..."

They both laughed then, and Courtney felt a welling of affection for this attractive, sympathetic woman. "Don't be embarrassed, it's just us girls here," said Melinda. Quickly, press the advantage. "Let me wash your hair," she offered. "A nice scalp massage will do you good." Courtney agreed, and it did feel good. Melinda admired the girl's little round ass as she worked her fingers in the dark, thick tresses. She wanted to reach around her and grab those lovely tits, but she knew the time was not right.