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  “Well, you too,” she replied. “I -”

  Then, suddenly, the younger girl pulled her head down and kissed her on the lips, hard.

  Caught totally by surprise, Emma first gripped her wine glass to keep from dropping it, and then raised her arms in shock.

  Bailey backed away, her eyes wide.

  Emma stared back at her. “What the hell?”

  Her face burning red with wine and embarrassment, Bailey backed up against the counter and looked mortified. “I’m… I’m sorry… I’m just really attracted to you.”

  “Really?” Her heart beat hard in her chest, and she realized her mistake. She’d told Bailey to be herself without really knowing that entailed… “Well… how long have you felt this way?”

  Bailey cast her gaze down. “The whole time…”

  Her suspicions confirmed, Emma struggled to push back the drunken fog from her thoughts and find a way to make Bailey feel better. Really, she just wanted to talk it through, lift her embarrassment… but that frustrated and aching part of her was a little warm… and it did feel good to be wanted… “What is it that you want exactly?”

  Bailey looked up, and then around at the kitchen. Slowly, she walked over to the kitchen door and locked it, and then she went around closing the blinds while speaking softly. “Just don’t move,” she said quietly. “Just lean back against the counter and don’t say or do anything.”

  “Why…?”

  Bailey finished her securing of the kitchen and came right up, looking up at her face. “I really need this… I feel like I’m going crazy… please…”

  Emma felt a dozen things at once - fear, confusion, awkwardness, above all - but the subtle warmth growing through her body urged her to stay quiet.

  Bailey’s shaking fingers plucked at her belt, undoing the clasp; then she undid the button, and pulled down her zipper.

  “Wait -” Emma said, too drunk to understand exactly what was going on, but still present enough to be seriously concerned.

  “Please,” Bailey continued. “I’ve never done this… but it’s all I can think about… it’s torturing me, and I have to know.”

  And then she tugged down, and Emma understood completely. In shock, she let her jeans fall to her ankles, leaving her bottom half bare but for her black lace ‘date panties.’ She ran through a thousand excuses to stop everything, but the delicate fingers on her thighs felt amazing, and she was drunk and horny, and single, and…

  Bailey moved down to the kitchen floor, on her knees, and slid her hands up to black lace. She gazed up with trembling wide eyes. “Can I? You don’t have to do anything, just let me make you feel good…”

  Full of apprehension, Emma decided everything had gone too far, and she made up her mind to refuse. “Okay,” she breathed, cursing mentally. She was too horny to refuse, and too drunk to really care.

  The younger girl’s face lit up, and, with some reverence, she pulled down the black lace panties.

  The open air brought sweet relief to her heated crotch - but the heat was only from wine and nervousness, so far. With her panties around one ankle, she shivered a little as soft hands ran across her upper thighs and lower tummy.

  Bailey stared between her legs with wonder.

  It was obvious she’d never seen another woman naked up close like this… then again, neither had Emma. She wondered what the younger girl was thinking and feeling. How long had she been craving this experience? Was it all women she found attractive, or just her? She wondered if Bailey had masturbated thinking about her…

  And then an index finger and a middle finger ran down either side, along each of her lower lips, and she shuddered. Bailey brought both fingers to her own mouth, sucked on them for a second while looking up at her, and then returned them to their work.

  Tensing against the sensation, Emma reeled with the drunken realization that the girl’s fingers actually felt good… she felt the first stirrings of wetness, and she knew then that it was really going to happen - her babysitter was going to get her off…

  Gently, Bailey slid a finger inside her.

  Fuck, yep, there it was… she closed her eyes, gripped the counter’s edge behind her, and struggled internally with the good feeling from the exploring finger. She needed release, badly… but from a nineteen-year old girl? She was no stranger to making out with female friends at parties for attention, but this…

  It felt too damn good. She opened her eyes and watched Bailey totally engaged in exploring her. The girl was very cute, and she had initiated it all, so it was fine, right? A second finger joined the first, and they began a tandem rhythm inside her, rubbing with more focus. As the pleasure increased, so did Emma’s justifications.

  It wasn’t long before she found herself actively wet, and the justifications stopped entirely, in favor of growing drunken enthusiasm. She adjusted her legs to get a better angle against Bailey’s fingers, and the younger girl smiled up at her.

  “Does it feel good?”

  Emma just breathed and nodded, her focus on managing the good feelings.

  Bailey’s expression became hesitant, and her fingering slowed. “I really want to… can I lick you?”

  A new surge of nervousness and concern rushed through Emma, but her body had long since taken over. She nodded emphatically.

  An eager smile, a little lean forward, and an excited sniff later, Bailey said something about how good she smelled… and then she stuck out her tongue.

  Emma tensed up as firm moist tongue slid up against her sensitive parts. In the morning, she knew she’d regret letting a nineteen-year-old girl go down on her, but there was nothing in the world she wanted more at that moment. The blonde’s insistent tongue felt amazing, and her pumping fingers - expertly pressed against her G spot - only added to the flood of bliss. It felt good, too, having a soft chin pressed against her wetness - wholly different from a man, far more soft and eager. She was glad she’d shaved for her blind date, now…

  More sure of herself, Bailey began really getting into it, and Emma found herself thrusting against the girl’s face, her body afire with the need to get off.

  It didn’t take long.

  A white-host burst of relief and bliss rushed up through her, and she clenched against the fingers inside her with all her might. The orgasm, coming from both fingers and tongue at the same time, seemed to blank her thoughts for many long moments. Bailey kept to it eagerly, and Emma felt a second burst of pleasure, or maybe a spike in the first, flood her body. She lost control of her muscles momentarily; she’d have fallen over if not for her death grip on the counter’s edge, but Bailey kept right on going.

  A third, weaker orgasm tensed up her insides, and it was all she could do to stare at the happily lapping and fingering girl in shock. Struggling against the sensitivity, she touched the blonde’s head gently, and Bailey finally slowed, pulled away, and wiped her chin. She looked up in hesitation and fear. “Was it good…?”

  “Oh god,” Emma replied, catching her breath. “It was incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever been eaten out like that…”

  Bailey blushed, and then looked down at something.

  Emma followed her gaze, noticing a large wet stain in the girl’s jeans. It seemed that going down on her had turned the blonde on immensely.

  Embarrassed, Bailey stood up and practically ran to the kitchen door, unlocked it, and bolted into the living room.

  After sliding her underwear and pants back on, Emma followed her.

  “I’m sorry, Emma,” Bailey said, flustered. “I mean, Miss Park. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She gathered her things as quickly as she could.

  “It’s fine, Bailey,” Emma tried to cheer her up, too drunk to understand the intricacies of the girl’s emotions. “I’m not mad.”

  “It’s not that,” she responded, packing up her backpack.

  “Well… it was really good,” Emma admitted, hoping that was it.

  Bailey paused, growing even more red, but then finished p
acking up her things. She made a move for the door.

  Emma sighed and grabbed the locket from her jacket pocket on the chair. “Wait.”

  Bailey turned and looked, dropping into a trance once more.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m worried I’m a lesbian,” Bailey answered.

  Emma stared at the girl’s neutral face for a moment, noting that her chin still glistened with juices in little places. The sight caused a little spark inside her, and she couldn’t help but run over the experience again in her mind… she shook her head.

  “Bailey, it’s fine if you’re a lesbian, lots of girls are,” she said directly. “Don’t stress over it. And it’s fine if you’re just confused, too,” she added, wary of the locket’s proven power. “You can do whatever you like, it doesn’t make you anything. You choose that.”

  She smiled and nodded, surprised at her own little speech. Not bad for a drunk party girl! Or, woman, as it were. She put the locket down in the chair, and then let go.

  Bailey returned to awareness, but seemed much more relaxed after a moment. “Sorry I freaked out,” she said. “I was raised in a really strict household… this is all new to me.”

  “Me too…”

  “Really?” Bailey asked. “You’ve never…?”

  Emma shook her head and laughed lightly. “No, why?”

  “Mrs. Robbins said you liked to ‘party’ or something, I thought that maybe…”

  Emma kept an understanding smile on her face, even if she was scowling mentally. Kayla had apparently been gossiping about her again, of course.

  “Well, I had a party or two in college, but never anything like that…”

  Bailey blushed again. “And I… was good?”

  “Incredible,” Emma replied, sincere. “But, um, you can’t go quite yet.”

  “Why not?” Bailey asked, a note of hopefulness in her voice.

  “Your pants are soaked.”

  Bailey looked down. “Oh, right.”

  Emma got something from her wallet, and held it out, wincing slightly. “And here’s your pay for the night…”

  They both grew awkward for a moment at the exchange of cash after what they’d just done, but the money was for babysitting, and had been earned either way.

  Bailey hung around just long enough for her pants to dry, and then practically bolted. “See you next week, Emma?”

  “Yep,” she responded, hoping the girl didn’t decide to stop being her babysitter. It was hard to find a good babysitter…

  As soon as the front door closed, Emma pulled out the locket, unhooked the chain, and examined its intricate carvings closely. The patterns offered no hint of the source of the locket’s power, but it had undoubtedly worked… as she thought about Bailey working her eagerly, heat flared inside her again, and she rushed upstairs to take a shower and masturbate to what had happened.

  ***

  Chapter 2

  She spent much of the next morning in a horny daze, fueled by a mix of erotic daydreaming and the power offered by the locket. By the time Lydia came around for lunch, Emma was practically red-faced and filled with strange thoughts and urges.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Lydia asked, grinning. “Date go well last night?”

  Lydia was her only true friend among the housewives’ circle; everyone else was a mix of friend and enemy as the situation called for it. She had long brown hair, the same shade as Emma’s, but longer - her locks came down to her ample all-natural chest. She was also the only other woman in the neighborhood that hadn’t had work done, and her large natural breasts were often the subject of jealousy. Emma had - somewhat jokingly - always wanted to play with them, and now she considered doing just that.

  “Oh, uh, the date, it was alright,” she replied, finally registering the question.

  “That bad?” Lydia asked with a grimace.

  “No, no, it really was fine,” Emma insisted. “We had a nice time, but there was no chemistry.”

  “Oh well.”

  Lydia barged in and headed for the kitchen for some wine. After getting a glass out and filling it up, she sniffed. “It smells kinda like sex in here…”

  Emma pretended to be mock offended, but her heart leapt into her throat. Lydia couldn’t possibly…?

  “Did you have a secret hookup over?” the brunette joked.

  “Oh, no, I wish!”

  Relieved, Emma grabbed her own glass of wine, and they headed into the living room and sat on the couch.

  Lydia rifled through the papers from the middle space in the living room table. “What should we get delivered? Let’s get something quick, ‘cause I’ve got to get back to work in forty.” She laughed at her favorite quip. “But, seriously, my spa thing got cancelled, so I’ve got all afternoon to burn.”

  Emma smiled, and watched her friend with predatory eyes. She talked and laughed for the next couple of wine glasses, ensuring Lydia was buzzed in case she noticed anything odd, and then she slid the locket around her neck and clasped it.

  Lydia’s expression suddenly went neutral, and Emma felt a rush of excitement. She’d had a secret fear the locket wouldn’t work, that it had all been some drunken dream, but here it was… she carefully tested the locket’s chain, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off - she hadn’t just held it, because she wanted her hands free - and, satisfied, she carefully approached her friend.

  Sitting next to her, she thought that Lydia really was very pretty. Married to an older and very rich gentleman, the twenty-seven-year-old brunette was a strange mix of positive, sarcastic, and flirty - Emma had liked her immediately. She wasn’t bothered by jealousy over the woman’s thin body and large chest, and the two had become fast friends.

  And now, here she was, sitting in a trance.

  Emma shook her head. This was her friend. It didn’t feel right. In her head, fantasies of power were all well and good, but actually physically doing it was another matter…

  She was just about to sit down and unclasp the locket when a different thought occurred to her - she could just ask to play with Lydia’s breasts, and, if the brunette was offended, use the locket to tell her not to remember…! That felt much more on the level… there was a chance she wouldn’t even have to use the locket at all, and, if she did, no harm done…

  She sat back in her chair and removed the locket.

  Lydia blinked, and then continued her conversation as if it had never been interrupted.

  Emma pretended to follow along, and then moved over next to her on the couch, emboldened by her ability to erase memories if things went wrong. “Lydia,” she said with a buzzed and mischievous smile.

  “Emma,” Lydia shot back, grinning, buzzed, and curious.

  “Can I play with your tits?”

  Her face flushed from the wine, Lydia laughed. “Fuck it, sure.”

  “Really?” Emma asked, her extremities tingling with surprise.

  “Yeah, who cares? I get that request all the time, and grant it nearly as often,” Lydia said, already tugging her loose shirt down. “I’m surprised you’ve never asked before!” She unclasped her bra, and let her gorgeous breasts hang free. “Ahh… feels nice to get out of that.”

  Emma practically stared. Lydia’s large, firm breasts were still lined from her bra, but they were fully tan. “Do you tan nude?”

  “Of course! What’s the use of having such a big yard if you aren’t out there in the buff?”

  “You’re right,” Emma agreed, blinking the buzz in her thoughts back.

  “Well, go ahead,” Lydia insisted.

  Her heart pounding, Emma scooted a little closer and brought her hands up. The first contact was intimately warm, and she slid her hands up the curves of Lydia’s firm breasts. She massaged them a little bit, marveling at their similarities and differences from her own. They were larger, certainly, and quite firm and responsive. She tweaked one nipple, and watched in amazement as it hardened.

  She looked up in awe, and matched Lydia’s a
mused gaze for a moment. She couldn’t quite believe her own words, mirroring Bailey’s the night before. “I want to… can I lick them?”

  Lydia shrugged, sending a subtle jiggle through her breasts, under Emma’s fingers. “Sure.”

  Gulping, Emma leaned in and quickly licked the nipple she’d hardened. It responded a little bit more, and she smiled, moving to suck gently on Lydia’s other breast. The flat areola supported a hard nipple soon enough, and Emma let herself enjoy licking and sucking the smooth, firm curves and erect nipples while she kneaded with her hands.

  “Haha, stop, you’re going to turn me bi,” Lydia joked.

  But Emma didn’t stop, and the brunette didn’t push her away. She bit each nipple gently, and then a little harder, something Lydia had once told her she enjoyed.

  “Ok, that’s enough,” her friend breathed. “You’re really turning me on.”

  Emma continued for another moment, and considered not stopping, but she finally sat back.

  Lydia breathed out with her lips pursed, fighting a little fluster, and then completely lifted her scrunched up shirt over her head and off. “Gotta cool down after that… if we’re cool with taking our shirts off, why don’t we just hang out like this all the time? It feels so much better than that restrictive bra.” She breathed out slowly again. “And what’s gotten you so naughty, anyway?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Emma replied, surprised herself.

  Lydia calmed down for another minute, and then looked at her expectantly. “It’s weird if I’m the only one doing it.”

  “Oh.” Emma hesitated, and then unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off.

  Lydia kept watching her expectantly.

  Emma grinned sheepishly and slid her clasp-less bra over her head, throwing it on the floor unceremoniously. Lydia was right - it did feel so much better.

  Without a moment’s pause, the brunette scooted in. “My turn!”

  They exchanged laughs and a small wrestle, but, ultimately, Lydia got her hands on perky tits.

  Emma did her best to hide her own arousal, already fired up from the night before, but Lydia knew her better than that.

  “This is really turning you on, isn’t it?” the brunette prodded, as she squeezed Emma’s smaller tits and sucked gently on each nipple. “I knew you were all horned up the moment I walked in.”