Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Copyright© 2025 by EroticScribbler
Chapter 10
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - With a cloud of naughty erotica hanging overhead, can Margaret, a woman with a past she doesn’t want to remember, find peace in her new life as a rich wife, or will a conflict with her stepson’s new girlfriend and a friend from her past unravel the new world she wants to become a part of? From the best-selling author of Potential and Attic Voyeur: The Incest Next Door.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Fiction First Masturbation Oral Sex
It might have been several small climaxes building toward the major one or a long one that grew until it was a gut-punching orgasm. Maggie didn’t know, but suddenly it was too much. Her thighs crushed Sammy’s sides, and her heels crashed into Sammy’s ass to stop the thrashing. The words I love you had been on the tip of Maggie’s tongue since their first kiss, but it wasn’t like the love ya that they always said, so she screamed, “Fuuuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
A fist hammering on Maggie’s bedroom door and her mother’s screaming voice sobered the lust-drunk girls like blue lights in the rearview mirror. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Sammy was moving. She pulled a backward, inside-out T-shirt over her head, jumped into her pants, and left by way of the window. Her socks, bra, and panties were still on the floor, and Sammy would never set foot in that house again to retrieve them.
The dream had been more real than Margaret’s memories, and it left her hot between her legs, wet with sweat, and she was crying. Even as a kid, she had known nothing would ever be the same again, not there. Their first kiss had started it, and what had just happened was more evidence of how her course was changing.
The call Maggie’s mother made to Sammy’s house was evident by the bruises on Sammy the next time Maggie saw her. They hugged and cried and started planning. Before finishing their senior year, Maggie and Sammy packed some stuff, stole some cash, and said, “Anywhere but here,” as they got on the Greyhound bus. Together, the two foul-mouthed hellions felt invincible, and they just wanted to have fun, kiss girls, and live like they were dying.
Margaret shook herself and took a long shower. When she came back, there was a pair of acid-washed jeans, complete with holes, and a note that said, Wear these. Margaret’s whole body stiffened against the swell of emotions.
At the restaurant, Margaret and Jennifer waited at the bar for a table. Figuring she probably shouldn’t, Margaret agreed to have a beer with Jennifer. “I can’t get over how well these fit.” She ran a hand down her thigh. “How did you know what size to get?”
“Honestly, it was an educated guess. We’re not the same size, but we’re built the same, same shape.”
“Really?” Margaret was flattered that the younger girl thought her ass looked anything like her own.
“Yes, really, and I’m glad you wore them.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Jennifer took a long time before she answered. “I guess for the same reason I’m not always comfortable wearing what I’d like to wear ... or not wear, at the house.” Margaret nodded and tried to smile. Jennifer continued, “I’m glad I got to see you wearing that bikini today. You looked amazing.”
Where is this going, Margaret wondered. “I never get to wear that one or anything like it.”
Margaret thought she heard Jennifer say, “That’s sad.” Jennifer sipped her beer, took a deep breath, and said, “It’s a shame.”
The pod on the bar next to Margaret’s hand started flashing. “Our table is ready.”
On the way to the table, Margaret noticed several men checking Jennifer out and thought, I hope my butt looks that good.
Once seated, Jennifer said, “Why don’t we start with an appetizer while you figure out what you want?”
Figure out what I want, Margaret thought, of course, she’s talking about the menu. Neither Jennifer’s tone nor expression suggested it was a pointed statement, but Margaret still internalized it. She nodded her agreement and read the menu. Jennifer told the host they wanted two beers and an appetizer.
The last time they came, Jennifer barely glanced at the menu and knew what she wanted, while Margaret looked and looked and asked questions. “Do you come here a lot?”
“Not as much as I used to,” Jennifer said. “Only if there’s a band I really like or when I’m trying to impress rich people.” Caught off guard by an unexpected burst of laughter, Margaret snorted. Jennifer said, “Sorry, I revert to sarcastic humor when I’m nervous.”
Margaret felt like the last person who should make Jennifer nervous and suddenly the least wealthy person she knew. “You do know that was a slutty bikini you saw me wearing, not my superwoman outfit, right? There’s no reason to be nervous.”
“Has Tony ever seen you in that?”
A waitress with too much chest for her less than five-foot frame set fried calamari and beers on the table. “Ready to order?” She looked at Margaret.
“I’m having whatever she has.”