This all happened in the late 1960s when I was a young girl of fourteen, living with my mom after she’d divorced my dad six months earlier.

She met Steve through mutual friends, there were no dating apps back then, or internet for that matter.

They hit it off pretty much straight away and he took her to the movies a few times.

When he came round to dinner it was the first time I’d really spoken to him, and that was the first I heard about his daughter Carol. Apparently, she was a year older than me, and the next time he came round for a meal he brought her with him.

She was very pretty and seemed nice, but for some reason I didn’t really take to her. We weren’t very similar: she was a young lady and I was still a gawky teenager, she was confident and I was shy.

We met several more times as Steve courted Mom, and I still couldn’t put my finger on what it was about her that didn’t sit right with me. She obviously really wanted to be friends, chatting about clothes and boys and stuff, and it certainly wasn’t that I disliked her, it was just that I didn’t like her as much as she clearly seemed to like me.

When Mom announced that she and Steve were getting married it came as a bit of a shock. They weren’t hanging about either, and set the date for a month’s time. One good thing about her marrying Steve was that I’d be Stephanie Norton which I thought was a vast improvement on Hancock.

It was a beautiful day, and me and Carol were bridesmaids in matching pale green satin dresses.

Me and Mom were living in a rented apartment so it only made sense that we should all live in Steve’s house. The day we moved in was a bit daunting, to say the least.

When we arrived with our stuff in a big van Steve showed us around.

“Why don’t you show Steph your room?” Steve asked Carol after he’d covered the ground floor. Your room I wondered?

“What about my room?” I asked him.

“You’ll be sharing with Carol for the time being,” he told me with a smile. “It’ll be like one long sleepover.” I was pretty cross, someone might have mentioned I wasn’t going to have my own room anymore, rather than springing it on me.

That first night was very weird, getting changed for bed together. I tried to be discreet but I noticed that Carol really wasn’t: she almost paraded her near-nakedness while watching me like a hawk.

I couldn’t help sneaking a few glances, like you do, but she was ... brazen I think the word is.

When I was safely tucked up in bed she did something that I really wasn’t expecting: she kissed me goodnight. She came over to my bed, put her hand on my shoulder, and kissed me on the lips.

“Night Stephanie, I do hope we can be best friends,” she said with a slight smile.

I was surprised but put it down to different families having different ways of doing things. I wished her sweet dreams and tried to sleep.

Lying there, wondering about that kiss, it occurred to me that one of the things that I found disconcerting about Carol was that she was so tactile. She was always touching my arm or shoulder as we spoke, or putting her arm around my waist.

I came to the conclusion that her family was just a lot more physically demonstrative than mine, and decided that I kind of liked it. I even vowed to try to be more like them.

Once I realized what the problem had been I was a lot happier with her and we started to get along a bit better.

There were a couple of things that still bothered me though: she still paid far too much attention to me when I was changing my clothes and those goodnight kisses were getting stranger. She would always touch me before the kiss but where it was kept changing: sometimes it was on my tummy, sometimes on my hip, and then, last night, she put her hand on my breast. She giggled and apologized, but didn’t move it until after she’d kissed me. That was the other thing, the kisses were getting a lot longer and with a lot more ... how can I put it, lip action on her part.

None of it was unpleasant, and I guess I actually found it quite nice, but I definitely found it odd.

I know what you’re thinking, and if it happened now it would be very different. But in those days I’d never even heard the word lesbian and the idea of girls liking girls in that way had never even occurred to me.

If it had stopped there it wouldn’t have been a problem but Carol seemed intent on pushing it further, and in a strange direction.

The first time was when we were all in the lounge together after dinner, reading. It was a warm summer’s day and we were wearing pretty summer dresses. Carol held my hand for a while and then put my hand on her thigh, covering it with her own.

I thought it a bit odd but, short of snatching my hand away, I didn’t know what to do. Then she moved her own hand away and, at the same time, she squealed and looked at my hand, blushing furiously as she did.

I looked at Mom and Steve and they were looking astonished at my hand as it rested on her bare thigh.

“Stephanie, stop teasing Carol like that.” My mom admonished, and I took my hand away and felt myself go bright red. I couldn’t read the expression on Steve’s face at all.

It was for all the world as if Carol had arranged it to look like I was the one touching her inappropriately.

When we went to bed I took her up on it.

“What was all that about?” I demanded to know.

“What?” she replied, all innocence.

“My hand and your leg and... “ I said, a bit less sure now.

“Didn’t you like it?” she said, smiling. I was in bed at this point and she put her hand on my tummy, only just above my kitty.

“I think maybe you did like it a bit.” she said, sliding her hand down another few inches and squeezing right around my most private place.

When she kissed me goodnight I felt her tongue trying to force its way between my lips and kept mine thin and firm to keep it out.

“You’re a little tease,” she said to me, then smiled and winked.

I lay there for ages, trembling, with all sorts of unfamiliar feelings in all sorts of forbidden places, before I finally dropped off to sleep.

I tried to avoid her the next day but in the evening she found me alone in the lounge and sat down next to me on the sofa.

“Did I frighten you, Carol? I’m so sorry if I did,” she said, looking suitably ashamed. “We can still be friends, yes?”

“Sure,” I said and smiled back.

She picked up my hands in both of hers and placed them on either side of her face. Then she put her own on my face, cupping and stroking it softly. She leaned towards me very slowly, looking me in the eyes all the time, until our lips were grazing each other.

I’d never kissed anyone like that before and it took my breath away. She kissed my lips with hers, squeezing and licking them, while she stroked my neck. I found myself responding to her in a way I’d never known before. My hand caressed her cheeks and neck and I welcomed her tongue into my mouth. I shut my eyes and almost melted into the kiss, its effect was so powerful on me.

“What’s going on here?!” I heard Steve say dimly through my reverie. I opened my eyes to see Carol with her hands in the air and her eyes wide as if in horror. I could see clearly what it must look like to Steve, me holding Carol’s face and kissing her passionately while she tried to back away from me in disbelief.

“Stephanie, go to your room. Your mother will talk to you about this later,” he ordered me as he took Carol into his arms and comforted her. She looked at me over his shoulder and grinned at me.

Furious, I stormed out and up to my bedroom where I threw myself face down on the bed and wept. How could Carol be so loving one moment and so awful the next? I couldn’t make any sense of it.

By the time Mom came up to see me I’d stopped crying and was waiting for her.

“Carol’s pretty upset,” she said as she sat down next to me.

“She’s upset?!” I said incredulously. “What about me?”

“From what Steve told me it was you kissing her, not the other way round,” she replyed, looking at me closely. “How long have you been ... liking girls?”

“What?!” I cried, even more outraged. “I don’t like girls.”

“So it’s just her is it?” she asked, now looking sympathetic. This conversation was going all wrong and I decided to try to turn it around.

“You don’t understand Mom, she’s doing it. It’s all her fault.”

“I think I understand. She is very pretty. But I don’t think she feels the same way about you. I’m sorry darling.”

“But...” I said desperately, she just wasn’t listening to me.

“Just try to control yourself around her. OK?” she said, standing up and looking at me. I was trying to think of some way to convince her that it was Carol and not me who was the one with the problem, but she got cross.

“Yes or no, Stephanie?” She demanded. There was only one answer.

“Yes,” I said, defeated.

Carol was triumphant that night, taunting me.

“What a naughty girl you are. I’m not sure I want to get undressed in front of you,” she said while taking off her dress. I just glared at her, too furious to speak.

She took her bra off and covered her breasts with her hands.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said coyly, before slipping off her panties and standing before me utterly naked and unembarrassed. I tried not to look but it was impossible, and I found myself staring at her kitty. At first, I thought that she was bald down there but, when I looked closer, she had just trimmed it down very short. I wondered why, my own was quite bushy. I found her breasts fascinating too, bigger and fuller than mine and with very dark but tiny nipples whereas mine were larger and pink.

I was determined not to be dominated by her again and began to take off my own clothes. If I thought she would look away I was wrong. She waited until I was standing in front of her, also nude, and looked me up and down, slowly and hungrily. Then she did something that made me gasp out loud in astonishment: she touched herself between her legs; more rubbed than touched actually.

“Beautiful,” she whispered to herself, as her hand stroked between her legs and her eyes bored into my sex.

“What’s the matter with you?” I cried and pulled my nighty on to cover myself. I jumped into bed and she came over, still nude, to kiss me goodnight. I turned my back on her but she sat in the bed and caressed my bottom through the covers.

“Goodnight my love,” she said softly, still stroking me, and then kissed the back of my head.

Her hand on my backside was sending tremors through my whole body and made me want to touch myself like she had, on my kitty, but that was just too, too wicked. I pulled the covers over my head and hoped she’d go away.

The next morning I determined that I wouldn’t fall for her tricks again. Her plan was working: whatever happened now Mom and Steve would blame me. My only hope was to stop anything from happening.

I took my clothes to the bathroom, got dressed in there, and then tried to avoid her for the rest of the day.

I thought it was going well until, after we’d eaten lunch, Carol went to her father and whispered something in his ear. They both looked at me and then Steve leaned over and put his lips close to Mom’s ear, after which they all looked at me suspiciously.

“Wait here please Steph,” Mom told me, and they all went off together, heading upstairs.

I waited for about ten minutes and then Mom came back, looking cross.

“Follow me please Stephanie.”

I followed her upstairs and into mine and Carol’s room. Mom went over to my bed and moved the pillow to one side revealing two pairs of panties. They weren’t mine and I glared at Carol, who avoided my gaze.

“Would you care to explain this?” Mom asked me, clearly angry. “I thought we agreed you’d restrain yourself.”

“But I didn’t put them there,” I protested, almost in tears in my frustration. “It wasn’t me!”

“Poor Carol, she’s so upset. She doesn’t understand what’s going on with you,” she told me crossly. We all looked at Carol who did indeed look upset, she even managed to squeeze a few tears out.

“Maybe if I talked to her,” Carol said, seemingly bravely. “Maybe I can talk some sense into her if you give us some time alone.”

“At least one of you is trying to be adult about this,” Mom said, looking at me with disdain. “Come downstairs when you’ve sorted yourselves out.”

Mom and Steve left the room and closed the door behind them, leaving me and Carol alone. Her expression changed instantly from upset to smiling. She went over to my bed and picked up one of the pairs of panties and raised it to her face.

“I don’t blame you,” she smirked. “They do smell wonderful.” And she took a deep breath in through her nose and sighed blissfully.

“You’re mad!” I told her and turned my back on her. Then I felt her close behind me and she held me around the waist with one hand while the other clamped her panties over my nose and mouth.

I held my breath for as long as I could and struggled to get free, but eventually I had to take a breath. I tried to hate the smell but found that I just couldn’t. It was sweet and musky and sort of sweaty but somehow in a good way. I stood there, breathing it in, trying to work out what it was about the smell that was so nice.

“Ah, you do like it,” Carol said by my ear, and the hand around my waist started to move downwards.

I might have been able to break free of her grip, but only by using extreme force and I knew that somehow she’d turn that against me. I knew then that she’d beaten me. There was nothing I could do that wouldn’t make things worse for me, so I just went limp and resigned myself to whatever perversions she had in mind.

She was rubbing herself on my backside and her hand was now cupping my kitty, squeezing and rubbing it. It didn’t feel unpleasant, far from it, but I just didn’t want her to do it.

“Please don’t do that,” I asked her, my voice muffled by her panties. Her hand moved away but only to start gradually inching my skirt upwards. When she reached the hem she cupped my sex with only my thin panties between her fingers and my most private place.

“Carol. Please. No,” I begged, as her fingers stroked me in ways I’d never imagined before.

“I think maybe you like it,” she whispered tauntingly. “I think you’re a bit moist down here.” I briefly considered screaming but knew it was hopeless, she’d been much too clever for me.