From The Magnet of Desire, Book-1 in Autumn Slick’s Olivia Tells series.

For us, there was the pending matter of Mandy’s sexual needs, and we returned home excited, desperate and determined. It is said that wartime populations produce more babies, which is probably the result of natural extra horniness, suppressing inhibitions when at risk of death.

We three girls were returning from a battlefield, excited, our hearts pounding while racing home for our assignation with each other, and nothing could have stopped us from going ahead as planned.

We girlfriends have had a common system of personal cleanliness since childhood, with procedures, rules and regulations, and routines of general hygiene, like brushing teeth first thing in the morning, two showers daily, fresh underwear twice a day, and stuff like that.

We have been using bathrooms together, and sharing clothes and other items, without any concept of individual ownership, for as long as we can remember.

Among the unusual things are water to wash the ass as compulsory, not wiping with paper alone, and keeping vaginas short-haired by shaving regularly, courtesy of guidance given by Aunt Ellen, (‘furry pussies must have four legs and say meow’), and things along those lines.

Having grown up using bathrooms together, it might be said we have developed non-conflicting practices, and are exceptionally hygiene conscious.

Now, with some form of sexual activity in our program, it was natural that we would commence by hitting the showers first, with everything in our hygiene routines to be conducted before laying a finger on each other.

At that point, prior to commencement, we three really thought the sexual activity would be limited to masturbation-style finger work, and that too on Mandy alone.

I don’t know how common it is, with the history of togetherness in our past, for shame, embarrassment and shyness to enter, but Mandy began cringing, knowing our focus was on her vagina. Well, where else?

“Please don’t stare there, Olivia. And Louisa, it can be done like yours was done; in the dark.”

I know it is stupid to think of anyone’s cunt as bad looking, but we have all read news reports of extremely young girls, well below teen, going in for plastic surgery of vagina lips, in a procedure known as labiaplasty, because they imagine their vaginas to be not very good looking.

It’s stupid, because I know that a vagina is a vagina, and it is there for a purpose, which it could be doing perfectly well without looking like some imaginary model pussy should look. It is actually a hard-working part in a sexual relationship, besides being a very hard-working part for so many other things.

It is sad to think that little girls are evaluating physical appearance down there. I wonder where the pressures come from.

But, still, we three have extremely good looking vaginas – pink, tending to fat, lips slightly pressing closed, and lightly hairy, with almost natural bikini lines. Almost, though that scarcely matters, for all three of us are rather diligent about maintaining bald, shaven pussies as a hygiene thing.

Watching the stunning blonde cringing shyly, brought home the reality of our inexperience in matters sexual, and Mandy looked helplessly at me, embarrassment suddenly entering a scenario that was everyday to us. It would be stupid to deny that we were about to engage in what had to be classified as lesbian activity.

We surely wouldn’t consider entering a world we felt uncomfortable in. And that world was one step away, its door open. Yet, it was painful watching Mandy in her insecurity, and I stepped forward to take her beautiful head in my hands.

Mandy’s shyly averted face kept turning for an eternity to meet mine, her mouth timidly opening, her tongue instinctively flicking out to moisten her lips, her entire being unconsciously joining in and ensuring irreversibility by reaching out and in turn holding my head, and closing, closing, closing the gulf, her blue eyes locked to mine, both unaware of who had hypnotized whom.

That is the contract, the kiss. No one cheats anyone after it is signed. It is irrevocable, and all required vows of fidelity are taken unspoken, by immersion into each other’s beings.

It seems never ending, the coming together, but there is a physical act in progress, in which contact must be made, and just before contact all uncertainty evaporates. It is a love contract that will be signed, far harder to break out of than marriage, and we are to wordlessly agree that our bondage with each other is to commence instantaneously.

And in the wider angle resides the larger picture, of a beautiful face with blue eyes, framed in gold, and she is smiling, tongue out of her mouth, and I feel the warmth and moisture of her breath, in the moment before contact is made, and, with her breasts pressing against mine and her hard nipples making indentations in my breasts, we enter the zone in which we can convey our hunger for each other in the tastiest mouths in the world, because I now harbor no doubts about my own desirability either.

Then someone’s hands slip down to cup the other’s bum, squeezing, and both girls can become legally wet between the legs, as the contract begins being signed in its ritual fashion, ignorant lips seeking slippery tongues that are yet to learn the language of love, and suddenly the boundaries that were imposed by inexperience and thoughtless spoken words begin melting away, and it will never be fingers only, but everything.

And they can use any word they like to label what we will do, but we shall not be shamed by the sound and the spelling, for we are making a contract in which nothing is to be excluded, and there are only two words we will allow in to define what is about to commence, the first describing the bond, and the second the goal – love and happiness.

But a stunning naked beauty has been unwittingly excluded, and stands anxiously, unnoticed and pouting, gazing wide-eyed at the silent ritual exchange of vows between her two best friends, and has now commenced looking down, darting shy glances filled with longing.

And goodness alone knows what thoughts have begun crowding her head, for she is witness to something natural and spontaneous, and because it has been automatic between two, it may be possible that it is not for a third, and may have converted her into an extra, a voyeur by chance present at a private moment.

But her love cannot be excluded, and she was always in our hearts, because without her we will be nothing, and something automatic and unstoppable commences with her too, and I find that I am with her, holding her, and it will never be known who has moved to whom.

For she has clung to me, naked breast to naked breast, delivering eager mouth and illiterate tongue, and is moaning, gasping and crying, so that the salt runs down her face, but it has the flavor of joy, and the already contracted blonde has joined in, and everyone is producing salt, and we are reassuring each other, promising, agreeing, sipping and sucking, and there are so many mouths that I lose the count of tongues.

As our desires now mount, something different enters, for with hearts revealed, accepted and signed away, bodies can begin playing their parts, and my head is in a cloud of longing for the fruits my childhood friends bear on their chests, which fruits I have seen and followed through every stage of growth, from seeds to the ripe and tasty fruits they now are.

But looking has been a privilege I have always had, and my immediate need is to pluck them in their ripeness and feast until my heart bursts, and my head goes down in a quest to get to one of many, not bothering to check which one goes with which one, for all are to be consumed, and feasting must start somewhere.

When I get to one and feel the softness and firmness as I slide my wet tongue over its smooth surface to find its hard dark focal point, I suck like I might have sucked when I was a baby, but I really can’t remember, and am taken aback at the experience of taste and feel, and my desperation is nothing short of greed, making me wish for a hundred mouths as I seek fruit after fruit.

But the two blondes have been consumed by the same primeval urge, and the fruits on my chest have also begun being claimed, doing to me what I never imagined that could do to me, exhilarate, electrify, and make me long helplessly somewhere between my legs.

And I can feel the need in my friends, but never suspected the strength and immediacy of the need this contact would spark in me, and added to hunger and greed are love and lust and something else, but it is too much traffic, and we lose coordination and get in each other’s way, to end up empty-handed, laughing helplessly in a tangle of heads.