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Amycidal: Origins, Part Two

Lesbian Alt Girl Erotica

I spent the next 24 hours in some kind of loved-up bliss. Even making the Sunday roast just to have my potatoes criticised by two brutes who looked like potatoes didn’t dampen my mood. In fact, I even finished all the washing up straight away just so my stepfather couldn’t stop me from going out for a walk in the afternoon sun.

He wouldn’t let me out at night—which wasn’t really a problem as I’d need multiple forms of photo ID to get into a nightclub—so the weekends would be the only chance I got to see Candy.

As eager as I was to see her again—to make sure yesterday wasn’t just a dream—I deliberately turned away from her house as I left, planning to double back along the edge of the field behind the houses and go around the block just in case one of the Neanderthals was taking an interest in my whereabouts.

As I walked I wondered if I should have tried to dress up a little for Candy—maybe a dress, something more girly? But none of it worked when I tried it, so I ended up, as I always did, covering my shapeless frame with a baggy tee and another pair of cut-off jeans.

I needn’t have worried, of course; Candy opened the door wearing just a black cropped t-shirt and a pair of bright pink panties. Her lipstick matched her underwear—not a style choice I’d ever had cause to make for myself.

“Oh, it’s you.” She sounded a bit surprised.

“You did say I could come round anytime,” I reminded her. “But if it’s not convenient...”

Before I could turn, she took my hand and led me inside. “Sit down,” she said. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Unsure what to make of her off-hand attitude, I sat down somewhat dreamily, back on that same settee where Candy had pleasured me so thoroughly the previous day. I thought I heard her voice from upstairs, but couldn’t make out any of what she was saying.

“Sorry about that. Now, what’s up, sweetie?” Candy said. “You look down.”

“I just wanted to see you again,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t mind me being here?”

“Of course not, why would I?”

“I just thought I heard you talking to someone upstairs,” I admitted. “And, you know, being dressed all sexy like, I thought maybe you had a guy upstairs or something. Or a girl,” I added.

“Oh no sweetie, you’re the only girl on my mind right now.” She smiled and brushed my cheek; I felt it flush at her touch.

“So...?”

“Curious little minx ain’t ya?”

I shrugged. “Tell me to butt out if you want. I just need to know I’m wanted somewhere.”

Candy sighed thoughtfully. “Ok,” she said after a moment. “I’ll show you that we're alone. But...”

“What?”

“Have an open mind, ok?” Candy said.

“Why...?”

“Please, Amy, just promise you won’t judge me for anything you might see?”

“Ok,” I said, puzzled. “I promise.”

Candy took me on a tour of her little home, first downstairs, then leading me upstairs, the rather delicious view of her cute behind in vivid pink cheering me slightly. At the top of the stairs, she directed me to the bathroom and to her bedroom, both of which I glanced into to confirm they were empty, but paid little more attention.

“So, now you’ve seen that the rest of the house is empty,” Candy said, resting her hand on the door handle of the one remaining room, “this is where I was when you arrived.”

She opened the door and ushered me in; I wasn’t sure quite what to expect—I’d seen a trailer for that 50 Shades movie once, and was a bit worried this would be some kind of sex and pain dungeon.

“Don’t judge,” I reminded myself quietly as I stepped into the mysterious room.

To my relief, it was not a dungeon, but quite the opposite: a very comfortable and well equipped bedroom. A nice big TV, and a decent looking stereo system stood over the radiator in front of me, where they could be watched from the huge king size bed that took up much of the room. Two big, comfy bean bags and a pile of cushions were strewn across the floor; in the midst of them all a red Sony Vaio stood, rather incongruously, at the end of the bed.

A small wardrobe stood in one corner, a matching dressing table in another, a small but comfy looking sofa filling the big bay window between them. As I entered the room fully, I saw the wall behind the door was taken up by a row of full length mirrors.

“Woah,” I said. “No wonder the stuff in your living room is so average—all the good stuff is in here.”

“Hey!” Candy gave me a playful nudge.

“How come you don’t sleep in here?” I asked, clothes, blankets and so on being confined to the other bedroom.

“This is my playroom,” she said. “It’s where I come to relax and feel good.”

“Well, I could certainly do with something to make me feel good,” I said.

“In that case, I suggest we start with a glass of wine. Red ok for you?”

“Um...” I didn’t drink any, of course. “Sure, if that’s what’s open.”

Candy produced a glass from some hidden corner of the room, which she filled with wine and placed on the little desk beside the laptop. I took it over to the little settee in the window, where I sat and looked out over the fields.

“I like it here,” I said, not really sure if it was the soft, comfy room, the view, or the company that made it so pleasant.

Candy just smiled and lounged on the bed. “Me too,” she said.

“Wait a minute,” I said suddenly. “What am I missing? What about this room would I be judging you for? I mean, I can guess what kind of fun needs full length mirrors next to the bed, but other than that...?”

Candy giggled. “And I thought you were so innocent!”

“Well, maybe you were right.”

“I think you’ll work it out.” Candy smiled enigmatically. “Have a look around, ask me anything you want. Don’t be shy now!”

“I think we’ve gone beyond me being shy around you,” I said. “So, if I were to guess, I’d say this was where you brought your boyfriends—you do like boys, don’t you?”

She giggled. “Yes I like boys, but no, I very rarely bring anyone in here. Not in person anyway.”

“I’m honoured,” I said.

“You certainly are that sweetie—but I figure you need a place you can come and relax more than I do, so consider this your playroom too,” she said with a wink. My heart raced with the possibilities that sentence implied.

“So what kind of games could we play in here?” I asked, setting my glass down and taking a wander around. I started by checking out the dressing table.

“Open it up,” Candy said. “Open anything up. Right now I have no secrets from you.”

I did as she suggested, but still found little more than some awesome shades of lipstick (“Do you think blue would look good on me?” I asked as I rummaged) and an extensive collection of what I told myself were earrings.

Since opening things and being nosey seemed to be welcome, I made my way over to the wardrobe and took a look inside.

“Huh,” I said taking in the selection of skimpy tops, tiny skirts, and—weirdly—fancy dress costumes that hung there. The drawers hid a collection of panties that looked far too small for even my slim hips. “Don’t like to overdress, do you?” I said, holding up a particularly scant pair.

“Not if I can help it,” Candy said, winking cheekily.

“Well based on the wardrobe,” I said, pulling out one item which had caught my eye, “you’re secretly a superhero!”

“Well, yes I am,” Candy giggled, “but that’s not the secret you’re looking for.”

I carried on looking, conscious of Candy’s eyes on me all the time. I couldn’t help wondering if she really found me attractive or was just playing with me. The TV and music centre revealed nothing of note. I supposed that if she did keep this room secret, she must feel something for me...

All that was left was the bed—and its glamorous, painted occupant—and the little desk at its foot, on which sat the laptop and some other gadgets: a desk lamp, wireless keyboard, and a little round gadget on a stand.

“Is this a camera?” I asked, examining it.

“It’s a webcam, yes,” Candy smiled knowingly.

And then it all made sense—the boudoir décor, the sexy wardrobe, the unslept in bed, the webcam pointing at it...

“By George, I think she’s got it!” Candy exclaimed.

“You’re one of those... those porn girls, aren’t you?” I stammered, thinking of my stepbrothers’ obsession with those websites.

“Now before you go making judgements—which, by the way, you promised not to do—maybe we should talk about exactly what I do, and why.”

“Do you take your clothes off in front of that camera?” I asked.

“Well, yes, that does happen sometimes...”

“Then how is that not porn?”

“Amy, sweetie, calm down now, and let me explain, ok?”

“Has that been on this whole time?” I pointed to the webcam in disgust.

“No, that’s what I came up to do when you arrived,” Candy said. “To switch it all off and say goodbye to my room.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, we’ll get to that soon enough. First, just come and talk to Candy. Tell me what’s got you so upset about this.”

I climbed up onto the big, soft bed and settled into Candy’s welcoming arms.

“The Neanderthals are always watching that stuff,” I tell her. “Then they make out like I should be doing that. They show me girls being forced to do stuff and pretend they’re enjoying it, then make up stories about me, and...”

“And what, sweetie?”

“And you,” I said quietly. “They make up stories about you. I hate them for that.”

“Well now we’ve already talked about that—”

“That was before, though!” I snapped, sitting up to look her in the eye. “Before I knew you made porn. Now I don’t know what to think.”

“I’ve never lied to you Amy,” she said. I let her rest her hand on my knee. “And I never will, I swear.”

I stopped for a moment to fight back a tear, and nodded silently.

“But first, I need to ask.” There was a serious tone in her voice. “Have they ever done more than show you, or make up stuff? Have they ever...”

“God no,” I said. “They’ve never touched me. They’re animals, but they’re not rapists.”

“Ok, just had to make sure you’re safe.”

I nodded. “It’s all just... what was the term? Macho bullshit. I mean they’re idiots if they think keeping me locked up in the house with a sheltered upbringing is going to make me a slut the minute I turn 18.”

Candy giggled, and I returned to the warmth of her embrace.

“I don’t do anything like that.”

She stroked my hair soothingly as she spoke, explaining how she does what she does alone, and is always 100 percent in control.

“I could show you if you like,” she said. “Give you a little demo. If you want, that is.”

“Um...”

“How about we start, and if it freaks you out, tell me to stop?”

I nodded dumbly, with completely no idea what to expect.

Candy picked up a remote, and some old soul tune about getting it on filled the room. Candy was up beside the bed, dancing in front of those mirrors so I could see every part of her glorious technicolour body.

The way she moved was mesmerising, so sexy, and when she started to lift that crop top and tease me with her boobs it made my panties damp...

My mouth was dry, my eyes fixed on hers, and as she pulled her t-shirt up over her head my hand was instinctively rubbing the damp spot inside my shorts.

Then she turned her back to me and slowly eased her little pink panties down over her peachy butt, all the time still wriggling seductively along with the music. And when they dropped to the floor, she knelt on the bed, right there in front of me, so close I could smell her, her naked hips gyrating with the music, her hands running over her body...

And then the song was over, and Candy flopped down onto her belly next to me, reaching for the remote and turning the music down, but letting the next sexy tune play softly in the background.

“There,” she said. “Was that so bed?”

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

“I see,” she smirked, and I realised with some embarrassment that I had undone my shorts and my hand was in my panties.

“Shit,” I said.

Candy just giggled, leaned over, and kissed me softly on the lips. “That was the effect I was going for,” she winked.

“So, you’re, like a stripper then?”

“Closer to that than the poor girls your brothers like to torment you with.”

“Why?” I asked. “You can’t need the money,” I added looking around the plush playroom.

“No, I don’t,” she said. “There is money to be made doing this, and I do make some, but not close to what my day job pays.”

“Then...?”

Candy shrugged. “I’m an exhibitionist.”

She must have seen the puzzlement on my face—curse my innocence!

“I like to show myself off,” she explained. “Having an audience makes me feel good, horny, and doing webcam shows is the safest way of doing that. And I’ve built up a little group of friends who like to watch, they tip me now and then, so it’s win-win.”

“I suppose that sounds ok,” I admitted.

“So are we cool again?”

“Course we are.” I couldn’t stay mad at Candy—especially while she was naked.

“Now...” Candy tugged playfully at my damp panties. “How about you get naked and finish what you started?”

My eyes darted to the camera unconsciously; Candy must have spotted it, as she grabbed a thick blanket and covered the whole table.

“No cameras,” she said. “Just you and me. We can watch each other if you like, you can use the mirror to see what you’re doing to yourself, or we can just lie back and do our own thing. Up to you.”

“I think I’d like to watch you” I said, suddenly shy.

“And may I watch you?”

Nervously, I nodded, and pulled off my t-shirt.

As I stripped, Candy gathered a few of the cushions, arranging them against the wall, and as I made myself comfortable on them she settled herself against a huge bean bag facing me.

We were so close our legs crossed, touching in a way that somehow made me feel uncomfortable all over again.

For some reason I was suddenly self-conscious, covering my small breasts and unkempt bush as if it was somehow unworthy of Candy, who was in so many ways the opposite of me.

Her feet—warm, gentle—prised my thighs apart, she nodded encouragingly, and then, right in front of me, her right hand reached down and began to stroke her slit.

My heart rushed, lust and adrenaline pounded through me, and as I watched, transfixed, I began to mimic her movements, my fingers searching through the slick hair and seeking out my own wet lips, stroking them up and down as I watched candy doing in front of me.

As the warmth from there spread deep inside me, with my other hand I reached for a nipple, teasing and playing with it as Candy had done the day before, and exploring my breasts, squeezing, stroking, pinching, scratching, trying anything to see what felt best.

Candy was breathing deeply, watching me with lust in her eyes - my god she looked good right now—both hands busy between her legs.

What was she doing down there? I wondered briefly, and then, as if in response, Candy threw her legs wider and I could see: two fingers reaching inside, while the other hand rubbed near the top of her slit.

I copied—or tried to—and after a little trial and error I suddenly found that spot that Candy had teased so mercilessly yesterday. I started to moan uncontrollably then as I worked the little nub, and Candy too was gasping for breath as she watched, rubbing herself more quickly.

On a whim I shoved three fingers as deep inside me as I could, filling the hole while I rubbed, throwing my head back as I felt the urge come, relaxing into it, hearing a long moan escape my throat as the pleasure exploded through me...

I lay there for a moment, still stroking myself gently as I came down again.

“Feel better?” Candy whispered.

“Much,” I said, slumping down to lie on the bed, my toes caressing Candy’s curves. “We should do that more often.”

“We will, my sweet,” she said, taking hold of my wondering foot. “That, and so much more besides.”

And then her bright pink lips were wrapped around my toe, her tongue swirling around it, the tongue stud a point of contrast to the warm wetness of her mouth.

I sighed contentedly, and settled back for Candy to show me yet another new experience.

Read next: Sex & Pregnancy
Keri Kroese
Keri Kroese

Just an average stay-at-home mom with a (possibly) less than average hobby of writing down every naughty, kinky and plain taboo thought that enters my head. I hope some of them get you tingling as much as they do me...

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Amycidal: Origins, Part Two
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