Chapter 9

Margaret laughed, thinking if Sammy could have tried a little harder not to scream we might still be in Texas.

Jennifer gave Margaret a questioning lift of her brows and said, “I know, not the most wholesome song. Sorry.”

“No, I love it,” Margaret said, “but I’m a little tipsy, too.” And quite aroused, she thought, staring into Jennifer’s crystal blue eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Lately, you’ve seemed distant. Are you mad at me?” Jennifer asked.

“No, definitely not. I thought you might be upset with me.”

“Why?”

“Well, the night we went out, you know, I asked about Kansas, and things seemed funny after that. We’ve hardly talked since.”

“I’m so sorry, I, uh, no, you didn’t upset me,” Jennifer said. “I was upset, but that’s not your fault. It just caught me off guard, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’ve been meaning to, but I kept putting it off, and I didn’t-”

“Stop, Jennifer, it’s fine, you don’t have to explain,” Margaret said. “I’m glad you’re not upset with me. I really had a great time, and I felt like it was spoiled by me asking.”

Jennifer looked at the hand holding hers, then into Margaret’s eyes. “I’m really glad you said that. I enjoyed it, really, and was hoping we could do it again sometime ... soon. Maybe tonight?”

Margaret hoped the grin on her face didn’t look as stupid as it felt. “I’d love that, but I’ll need some time. The sun cooked me, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pass a sobriety check right now.”

The hug surprised her, and it lasted longer than appropriate, but Margaret let it continue until Jennifer let go. Fuck the staff or cook or whoever might think it wasn’t appropriate. She remembered something Sammy used to say if some bothered them, “Yank their pants down, shove ‘em, and say, fuck you as they fall.”

That’s what they had done to a mean boy named Timmy Dooner right in the middle of the gym. Maggie snuck up behind him, snatched his shorts down, and Sammy pushed. That became their approach to facing any problem, yank its pants down, push it over, and say fuck you.

Jennifer asked, “What’s funny,” and Margaret realized she had laughed aloud.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about Sammy, an old friend.”

Jennifer grinned and nodded as she backed away. “How about seven?”

“Sure, I’ll be ready.”

Upstairs, Margaret threw off her bikini as she got into bed. Her brain seemed to spin inside her head, and her skin seemed too sensitive as the sheets slid over it. It had been a huge relief to find out Jennifer wasn’t mad at her and that the girl planned on talking to her. It pacified the raging curiosity that demanded she open the envelope.

But, the song, Girls just wanna have sex, the way Jennifer looked at her, and the long embrace hadn’t relieved or pacified anything. Margaret was nervous and excited about their dinner date.

They were in Margaret’s childhood bedroom, standing on opposite sides of the bed, staring at each other. It was unplanned, and there hadn’t been any discussion. They started undressing at the same time. Their shirts, pants, socks, bras, and panties were all tossed on the floor. Neither of them made a pretense of pulling on their nightshirts.

Maggie got in bed first, laid on her back, and watched Sammy follow. Well practiced, they’re kissing was immediately embroiled in passion and lust. Sammy rolled on top of Maggie. Their groins pressed together. It was like the mound of strawberry curls was a button that triggered Maggie’s legs to fly open. Her hands left their entanglement with Sammy’s hair and traveled down through the sensual curve of Sammy’s lower back and up the slope.

Then, just like that, Maggie was holding the ass she had admired and envied for years. Her fingers sank into the fleshy cushions, and Sammy flexed, hunching her body. Maggie’s inner thighs slid up the other girl’s silky skin, past her hips, and into the curve of Sammy’s waist. Her legs wrapped around Sammy’s back and squeezed her tight.

Having her best friend firmly between her legs and wrapped in her arms made Maggie feel something she’d never felt, complete, like a whole person who fit in and was accepted and loved.

Sammy humped and humped, grinding her mound into Maggie’s crotch, smashing her flooded pussy. She moaned in Sammy’s ear and begged, “Fuck me, fuck me, oh, fuck me.”

The bubble of pleasure that had started in Maggie’s belly as soon as Sammy started stripping had continued to grow, and grow, and move lower, and lower. Now, with Sammy’s mound bashing and thrashing her clit, it seemed like a huge bomb ready to explode.