Chapter 3

The woman was in a state of amazement. Never had she seen such a public showing of lesbianism, and between such young and attractive girls! She had been to Provincetown, Massachusetts once with her ex-husband, and seen many women walking hand in hand, or arm in arm there openly, even kissing briefly.

But never this.

As she rounded the curve of the footpath ending at the parking lot, she saw the two girls get in their car. Pretending not to notice, she pulled her dog along hastily to her van, which was parked on the other side of the lot. When she got in, she put the little dog back in it's carrying cage, sat in the driver's seat, and watched the girls' car for a moment. They weren't leaving.

Still astounded at what she had witnessed, and blazing with curiosity, the woman decided to boldly pull up into the empty parking space next to their car. She started the van, and headed their way.

Melanie was somewhat astounded herself, but too delighted to question her girlfriend's newly revealed exhibitionist tendencies. She had never seen Ilsa like this. In fact, she remembered, as Ilsa heatedly began to kiss her neck, that time they went to the beach together in Sanibel. Melanie had spontaneously started their "fake" lesbian kissing spree, to ward off the young man who had been following her around. Ilsa had been hesitant to even take off her top that day, and here she was, clearly turned on by being watched in the park.

Ilsa glanced over Melanie's shoulder and saw the van pull up next to them. She was certain that the driver was the same woman who had seen them.

"Mel... lay on top of me, please," she breathed, laying back on the car seat.

Melanie slid on top of her, and as she did, Ilsa's hands went to the other girl's top, pushing it up.

"I want some of these pretty boobies," Ilsa purred as Melanie just "mmmmed" in approval.

Ilsa licked and sucked the perfect breast above her, and glanced around Melanie-- whose eyes were now closed in rapture-to check on their voyeur. To be sure, the woman wasn't done checking them out, and Melanie was unaware that the van had pulled up.

Ilsa's young body tingled with excitement. A new aspect of her was awakening, one that had only peeked its head out at the beach that day, when she and Melanie's barely clad bodies had met so brazenly in the open, causing erections to spring up all around them. And, since the moment that Melanie had returned from spring break and told her the startling news--that her mother knew about them--she had felt a delicious, forbidden pang of being discovered. If Melanie's mother had been angry, or disapproving, well, that certainly might have caused a different reaction. But her subtle acceptance of it, and willingness to let it continue between them, caused the Swedish student shiver of excitement every time she thought of it. Though at first she thought she was going to be too mortified to face Mrs. Flowers again, she now could not wait to be around her again, and wondered what kind of "look" she would get the next time the families got together.

All of these thoughts galloped through her mind as she filled her lips with the tender, savory nipple of her beautiful lover. Melanie was on top of her, leaning her upper body up just enough to let Ilsa have her breast. Ilsa, pretending not to see the blonde woman in the van, brought her hand around behind Melanie and caressed the plump, perfectly formed globes that bulged sweetly from the pair of green nylon shorts. Still licking and sucking at both exposed breasts-Ilsa had pushed up Melanie's top completely now-she deftly slid her finger inside the shorts, wiggling it under the elastic leg hole of her panties. Instantly she met the syrupy wetness she was searching for. Melanie moaned happily, and Ilsa took a furtive peek at the van's window. The woman's was head was turned in their direction, and there was no doubt whatsoever she had a clear look at everything.

Ilsa's body shuddered, her excitement reaching a fever pitch now, as she pulled her finger out of Melanie's shorts and, with both hands, feverishly started pulling the other girl's shorts down. She tugged the shorts and panties down together and pushed them to her thighs. She looked up at her lover and saw that her eyes were closed, and mouth open, stricken with intense arousal.

Ilsa swabbed her forefinger back into Melanie's exposed pussy, and then slid it up, until it lingered over the tiny puckered ornament between her buttocks.

"Ohh Ilsa... yeahhpleeaase..." Melanie panted, unaware and uncaring of anything outside.

Ilsa glanced beyond her female lover and saw that the woman's mouth was now slightly open. It also looked, at a moment's glance, like the van's occupant had one hand down, and it was moving.

Ilsa pushed her finger into Melanie's anus, and delighted in feeling the slightly rubbery resistance give way and suck her finger inside the warm, snug hole.

Melanie let out a ragged moan, and threw her head back, her hair dancing like a horse's mane in full gallop. "Oh my Ilsa!" she cried out, "yeahhhhhhh!"

Ilsa's own focus with becoming blinded with lust, but she could swear that the van's window was fogging, and that she saw the woman move her head to get a clearer look at them. She buried her face in Ilsa neck, kissing and nibbling, and then used her free hand to reach under her frantic lover and tickle her clitoris. Her other finger, just by way of Melanie's ecstatic movements, sank deeper into the girl's body.

Melanie could take no more, the touch of Ilsa's finger on her clit sending her into spasms of orgasmic bliss. Her hair whipped the air above them as she thrashed, her breasts jiggling against Ilsa's face as she squealed loudly in the humid confines of the small car.

Ilsa smiled happily, her face buried in her friend's cleavage, as Melanie slowed her movements. She snuck a look at the spying woman, and was certain she saw her mouth say, "omigod".

Ilsa smiled, and then, the woman smiled her eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

Melanie collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, as Ilsa removed her finger. She caressed Melanie slowly, her senses bathing in her lover's heat, her sexual scent, her silky hair.

"How I love you!" she whispered into Melanie's ear.

"Oh god..." Melanie whispered back, "my incredible Ilsa..."

The following Monday morning in school found the two sleepy girls shuffling to their weekly assembly, sitting in orderly rows in the school's auditorium with the rest of their uniformed classmates.

"Ladies," Miss Franklin, the tall headmistress started, as she always did, "good morning. There are a few things we need to address for this week. I trust all of you have recovered sufficiently from your Spring recess and are ready to get back to your educations."

There was some disagreeing murmurs, followed by some giggles, which the stern looking woman dismissed with a smirk and let die down.

"As you know, we are finishing up the physical inspections this week. For those of you who have forgotten, this is an essential part of keeping this school unsullied by outside influences. Years ago, we had two problems when girls returned from Spring recess, and extended contact with outside... recreation, shall we say."

More muffled giggling, and some glances. Ilsa and Melanie looked at each other quickly, sharing the smile of lovers.

The assistant headmistress took off her glasses for emphasis. "Unfortunately, those two problems were as follows-" she held up one finger--"intimate contact with boys, and --" a second finger joined the first --"drugs being smuggled into the school, in a variety of ingenious ways."

More murmuring, and giggling, causing the woman to put up her hand for silence.

"So, the physical inspections are ongoing. You are to check your mailboxes for your appointments directly after assembly."

There were several other announcements, mostly mundane things, but one that caught everyone's attention.

"Ladies, I'm sorry to tell you that Mrs. Traynor is going to be out for an extended period of time. It seems... that she has been diagnosed with cancer."

This time, no giggles, but a wave of inhalations. Many girls covered their mouths, and a couple of them were wiping away tears. Ilsa and Melanie looked at each other instantly. Ursula Traynor was their World Economics and Government class teacher. She was a wonderful lady, loved by students and faculty alike, and the sudden announcement of her illness cast a pall on the assembly.

"I wish we knew more about the type of cancer, and what the long term prognosis is," Miss Franklin went on, sounding as detached and professional as she could, "but we just don't have that much information yet. We will, as time goes on, keep everyone updated."

Her voice softened just then, and no one missed the glimmer of moisture in her eyes. "We will be certain to get you an address where you can send cards, or whatever else you wish, to her."

The assembly ended a few minutes later, everyone filing out somberly with the news of Ursula Traynor's illness in her ears. Ilsa went numbly to her mail slot, as did most of the girls.

"See you in third," Melanie said, referring to the class that now would certainly be conducted by a new substitute. Isla nodded and fished several papers out of her mail slot, one of which had a list of girls on it. Her name was highlighted in yellow, next to today's date, and the time, 8:30am. That was in ten minutes, she realized, the same time as her Trigonometry class, but the note said that each teacher would already be aware of the absence.