index


Message-ID: <52344asstr$1130569801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: pseudorandom@fastmail.fm
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} Dana: Intimacy (ff, rom, mentioned inc and mg)
Lines: 608
Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2005 03:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Provoked by a line from a Master Z story.  Intertextual sexuality is
where
it's at, baby.

P. Random


-- 
http://www.fastmail.fm - Choose from over 50 domains or use your own

<1st attachment, "Intimacy.txt" begin>


Intimacy
(ff, rom, mentioned inc & mg)
by pseudoRandom

Tara was sixteen, two years older than Dana, so it made sense that Tara'd 
had sex more than her.  Still, Dana was shocked when Tara admitted how 
many guys she'd slept with.

	"Nineteen?" Dana managed not to squeak out.  "You're -- sure?"

	Tara's smile thinned.  She shrugged and looked a little away from 
Dana.  "I started keeping track after six.  Otherwise I would have lost 
count."

	"How long have you ... ?"

	"Since I was eleven."

	Dana stopped on the sidewalk.  A second later, Tara noticed and 
stopped as well.  Before she attracted more attention, Dana walked on.  
When she was eleven, Dana had barely noticed that boys were good for more 
than being icky.  Or that girls could be more than just friends.  She 
decided to play it cool.  "Get out.  When?  Who?"

	"Todd," Tara said quietly.

	Wait -- what -- ?  Surely not.  Dana lost all pretence of cool.  
"Your brother?"

	Tara shrugged.  After a moment, she said, "I walked in on him 
jerking off."  Tara paused, then smiled and said, "So we fucked."  As if 
that had been completely normal.

	As if incest was nothing.  As if whose cock was inside her meant 
nothing -- to her.  Dana wondered if that was how Tara had managed to 
sleep with so many boys.  And what that meant for the two of them.

	They walked on together.  After several seconds, Dana blurted, "Do 
you still -- ?" before she stopped herself.  She hadn't meant to ask that.  
She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

	"Not since he left for college," Tara said.

	Which had been, what -- two years ago?  Tara'd had sex with her 
brother for three years?  Dana took a deep breath.  "Did anyone know?"

	Tara shook her head.  "Just his two friends.  They were my third 
and fourth."

	Suddenly, Dana didn't want to know who'd been second.  Or anyone 
else.  She wasn't sure she wanted to continue the conversation.  She'd 
started asking because Tara seemed unusually open that afternoon, and Dana 
wanted to know how many girls Tara had been with.  And it was always 
easier to talk about your boys, before you asked about other girls.

	"You're shocked," Tara said.

	"I -- "  Dana shook her head.  "A little.  I've never met someone 
who ... you know."

	Tara smiled grimly, her open mood gone.  "And you don't like it."

	Dana stopped walking again.  They were in the shade of an ancient 
poplar tree, overhanging the sidewalk beside the park.  She thought for a 
moment, picking carefully through her feelings -- revulsion, worry, 
attraction.  Then she looked at the older girl.  As honestly as she could, 
she said, "It'll take a little getting used to the idea of -- of incest.  
But that you had sex with Todd doesn't bother me any more than with any 
other boy.  Or -- or other girl."

	Tara looked at her steadily.  Finally, she said, "Sometimes, I 
don't know what to make of you."

	"How about a friend?" Dana said.  Then she blushed -- that had to 
be, like, the second oldest line in history, right after "Let's just be 
friends."  She added, "That didn't come out right."

	"Right," Tara said with a smile, almost a smirk, "you meant 
'girlfriend'."

	Dana blushed harder.  She couldn't deny it.  Nor could she say 
anything.

	When finally she looked at Tara, the girl jerked her head back 
behind her, towards the trunk of the poplar tree.  "Come on," she said, 
and led her around to a park bench on the other side, in the shade.  Dana 
stared at the bench.  She'd walked past the park for three years now, and 
never noticed it.  They sat down together, a few inches apart.

	The delay gave Dana time to cool off, a little.

	"How about you?" Tara asked.  "How many boys?"

	"Um," Dana said.  It was only fair.  And when she'd started this, 
she'd fully intended to be honest.  He stomach still felt like it was 
trying to squirm out her spine.  "Two," she said.  "A boy at school -- we 
went out for a couple weeks.  And guy at camp."

	"Camp," Tara said with a wicked smile.

	"Um.  Yeah."  Dana wasn't proud of Chuck and Ami -- far from it.  
Though compared to Todd, how bad were they, really?  She watched the 
soccer players at the other end of the field.  "There was a girl I was 
crushing on.  As in head over heels.  And this boy, and she couldn't 
decide between us.  So she refused to."

	After a couple moments, Tara said, "What happened?"  Quietly, not 
cruel.

	Dana continued to watch the players.  "We agreed only to do it all 
together.  I'd had sex with them twice when I found out that A-- that she 
was screwing him alone in secret."

	"Ouch."  Then after a moment, Tara said, "Bitch."

	Dana took a deep breath, and finally glanced at Tara.  She looked 
almost angry, or hurt, or maybe just troubled.  Dana met her eyes.  "I got 
over it."

	Tara's eyes were green now -- light green, shading to brown.  
When one moment stretched into three, Dana almost reached for Tara's hand 
-- but then Tara looked away and said, "See, that's is why liking someone 
is dangerous."  Softly, as to herself -- as if she were talking about 
herself, instead of Dana and Ami.

	Dana wasn't sure what to say to that.  "It can be."  Where had 
that come from?  Oh yes -- Aunt Janet, after Kira, Dana's first girlfriend 
had broken up with her, when they were staying at that cabin in the 
mountains.

	"It IS dangerous," Tara said sharply.

	Dana's parents weren't exactly poster children for happy 
marriages.  Janet, on the other hand.  "My aunt's been with her partner 
for 20 years."

	That caught Tara's attention -- she knew what partner meant.  
"Happily?" she finally said.

	"They moved to Massachusetts last year, and got married two months 
ago."  Dana smiled at the memory -- even aside from the beautiful Quaker 
wedding in an old Meeting House, she'd met more lesbians in one place than 
she ever had before.

	Tara grunted.  "And you're following in their footsteps?"

	Dana shuddered involuntarily.  "I hate snow."

	"I -- "  Tara shook her head as a laugh escaped her.  "I meant, 
are you a dyke?"

	"I don't know," Dana said honestly.  "I mean, I look at more girls 
and think 'Oo!' than I do boys -- but I do find some boys cute.  And I 
liked sex with Brad.  But I've gone out with more girls."  Where going out 
mostly meant making out in private.  But putting out counted as going out.

	Tara snorted silently, as if to say "fair enough."  Aloud, "And 
that would be how many?"  Meaning how many girls.

	"Um -- six or seven.  I'd have to -- " but Tara held up her hand 
and said, "I don't need, yanno, the whole list."

	Dana couldn't help herself -- she took the hand in her own.  It 
was warm, but not sweaty -- soft.  Her palm tingled as they clasped, 
fingers wrapping around.  Tara's fingers were long and lean -- like a 
musician's hands.  "And you?" she finally asked.

	Tara frowned.  "You're the first girl I've ever kissed.  The first 
I've wanted to."

	"But -- !"  Dana cut herself off.  Tara raised her eyebrows.  
Dana picked her words carefully.  "You're very good."  Meaning, the time 
they had sex.  "I thought for sure you'd had at least one or two 
experienced lovers."  More experienced than herself.  But she didn't say 
that.

	"Ah," Tara said obscurely.  "Let's just say I've watched enough 
porn to get an education."

	Porn?  At sixteen?  Dana wondered if this story would shock her as 
much as Todd.  Or if she wanted to find out.

	When she looked in Tara's eyes, she found she did.  Yes, she 
wanted to learn this girl, this tall, sharp-tongued young woman who tasted 
of oranges and chocolate.  She wanted to learn everything she could, even 
the painful parts.  Especially the painful parts, if it would help.  Tara 
didn't deserve pain.  Not that anyone did, but this wasn't anyone -- this 
was her.

	After a minute of looking into each other's eyes, Tara said 
softly, "Let's go."

	They stood together.  Dana was prepared to drop Tara's hand, if 
the she wanted.  But Tara didn't let go.  They returned to the sidewalk, 
hand in hand.  After a couple steps, they shifted, interlacing fingers, 
Dana's hand behind Tara's, so it was easier to walk with their difference 
in heights.

	Without speaking about it, they turned at the corner, heading 
toward Tara's house.  They walked the three blocks side by side, not 
letting go.  The light slanted yellow through the oaks, like a golden 
layer of heat.  The last block, Dana's heart started pounding.  Even if 
nothing happened, even if they never talked to each other again, she'd 
remember this walk -- remember that there had been something between them, 
if only for these minutes.  Enough something that Tara was willing to hold 
hands in public.

	They stopped at Tara's front door, and Dana had to let go to let 
Tara fumble for her keys.  Dana searched her face, looking for an answer 
to the question, what would happen next.  Tara's eyes were light brown 
now, and clear like a mountain stream.

	Tara turned the key in the lock.  Quietly, little louder than a 
whisper, Tara said, "No one will be home for an hour."

	Dana's heart seemed to skip a beat.  Yes.  Oh yes.  Her reply must 
have shown in her face -- she didn't even have to nod.  Tara opened the 
door and ushered her in.

	They didn't touch as Tara led Dana upstairs to her room.  Not even 
when Tara closed the door and they dropped two heavy backpacks on the 
floor.  They looked at each other, standing a few feet apart.

	Dana want to reach out and kiss Tara.  But somehow, she knew she 
shouldn't.  It was an odd feeling, one that didn't make sense, but Dana 
obeyed it.  It would be easy to seduce Tara, in the mood they were in.  
She felt as if Tara had to convince herself, or it would fall apart.

	Tara reached out and traced the line of Dana's jaw.  Dana's eyes 
half-closed as she leaned into the caress.  Her cheek tingled where the 
finger had touched her.

	"I don't know why," Tara growled, "you think I know what I'm 
doing."

	Dana caught Tara's hand in hers before she could pull away, cupped 
it against her cheek.  Because she couldn't think of what to say, she 
kissed the inside of her wrist, lightly.

	Tara growled on, "Just because I'm in high school doesn't mean-- " 
but Dana stopped her with a finger on her soft lips.  

	"I don't know either."  She swallowed and pulled her finger back 
to hover over Tara's mouth.  "But I want to find out."

	Tara was trembling, Dana could feel it through her arm.  Dana 
stepped forward and reached out to hold her.  Tara caught her in her arms, 
but instead of just holding her, bent down to kiss her instead.  Their 
lips met with a spark, or so it felt to Dana, one even stronger than their 
first kiss, at Cal's party two weeks ago.  Tara kissed her hard, almost 
savagely, as if she was trying to swallow her doubts in lust.  Or swallow 
her fears.

	Dana let herself be swept along.  Kissing Tara was sweet.  She'd 
take anything she could get from her.

	After several moments, or maybe minutes, Dana felt Tara pushing, 
pulling -- and the edge of the bed against her leg.  She sank down on the 
mattress, still kissing Tara -- stroking her as she did so.  Dana's shirt 
pulled out of her waistband, and Tara's fingers ran up the skin of her 
back.  It felt like Tara was trying to devour her.  Like Dana wanted to 
be devoured.

	A shift, and fumbling fingers, and then Dana's shirt was off.  
Dana worked at Tara's buttons while Tara reached around and unhooked 
Dana's bra.  Which took a few tries -- Tara wasn't used to that angle.  
Which Dana should have noticed before.  But then the weight of her breasts 
was free, and Tara cupped them in her hands.

	Of a wonder, Tara liked Dana's breasts -- it was one (of many) 
things that Dana liked about her.  They were close to the largest boobs in 
Dana's class, and got her more attention from boys than she really wanted. 
But they made her look mature enough to get Dana into high school parties. 
The sort of parties where she'd met Tara.  Though it had almost backfired 
when the sophomore found out she'd spent half an hour making out with an 
eighth grader.

	But despite that early misfire, Tara liked Dana's tits -- "a good 
handful," she'd called them last week, the first time they'd had real sex.  
And a good mouthful.  Like she was doing now.  Dana's spine hummed, and 
her breathing grew more ragged.  When Tara nudged her back, so she could 
more easily reach down, Dana fell back slowly, lying down.

	Tara went from one breast to the other, as Dana ran her hands 
through her lover's short hair, holding her against her.  Each nipple 
seemed more sensitive than ever, when Tara came back to it.  Finally Dana 
couldn't stand it any more, and pulled Tara up to her for another kiss.  
There.

	Tara pulled back and grinned at her.  Dana pulled her back down 
for another kiss -- on her lips, her cheek, the hollow below the ear.  
And there, a nibble on her ear, which had driven Tara wild last week.

	It drove her wild again.

	Dana smiled as she tugged on Tara's shirt, still half on.  She 
wanted it off.  She wanted Tara.  A flurry of hands, hurrying over each 
other -- and clothes flying onto the floor, scattering over each other.  
Dana had less to come off, but Tara wasn't lying back -- and so Dana got 
her naked first.  Not that it was a race.  It was a glory -- skin on skin, 
holding each other close, caressing and fondling each other while they 
kissed.  Rolling each other over.  Loving each other.

	Or maybe not love, not yet, but it was still more glorious, more 
wild, than anything Dana had experienced before.

	When Tara finally shuddered in release, she held the taller girl 
in her arms, holding her close.  Not that she seemed taller, in bed.  
What was the saying about everyone being the same height lying down?  
Dana liked being able to look at Tara's ever-changing hazel eyes without 
straining.  Not that she could at the moment -- Tina stared at the ceiling 
as she panted, recovering her breath.  Dana watched her face.

	Finally, Dana said, "Penny for your thoughts?"

	Tina turn to look at her, pulling a little away.  "What?"

	"Haven't you met that?"

	Tina looked in her eyes for a moment.  "Do you really have pennies 
with you?"

	"Uh.  Probably."

	"Hmph!"

	Dana laughed, and squeezed Tara closer.  Giddily, she kissed her 
lips, quickly, then nose, cheek, ear, jaw, chin, and lips in rapid 
succession.  She wanted to kiss every part of her, know all her body.  
But that would require letting go, instead of touching as much of her as 
she could.  Tara laughed, and kissed her back, slower, more deliberately.

	When that ended, Dana said, "So, how about that penny?"

	"Why," Tara asked, "would you want to know what I'm thinking?"

	"To be close to you," Dana said promptly.  "So how about it?"

	"That was it," Tara responded.  "Where's my penny?"

	Dana blinked.  Oh -- Tara's thought at that moment had been 
wondering why Dana wanted to know.  She smiled.  "In my pack.  I'll get it 
later."

	"Pay up, Partlow," Tara said with mock severity.  At least, Dana 
thought it was mock.

	"What, now?  I'd rather do this," and she moved her hand down, to 
cup Tara's mound again -- but as she did so, brushed Tara's hip.

	Tara squealed, ticklish there.  She rolled them over, holding Dana 
down with her weight.  "Oh you would, would you?"

	"No -- wait -- I -- !"

	But Dana's protests were too late -- Tara started ticking her.  
So Dana had to retaliate.  Which was fun and squeally and squirmy.  
Nicely squirmy.  Dana wasn't sure who first stopped the tickles with a 
kiss, but it worked.  Soon they were rubbing each other's bodies for other 
reasons than tickling.

	This time, it was Tara who made sure Dana came, more than once.

	After her last, Dana pulled Tara up the bed to her, and held her 
-- or made Tara hold her, all but curled up into her lover.

	Lover.  Lovely word.  She looked at the nipple in front of her -- 
just a little out of reach of her mouth without moving.  So she mouthed 
the word instead.

	"Well," Tara said, "if you're not going to give me that penny, 
I'll just have to give it back."

	Dana considered that a moment, before saying, "Huh?"

	"Penny for YOUR thoughts," Tara said.

	Oh.  Duh.  "Just that, I like the sound of 'lover' -- warm.  
Soft."

	After a moment, Tara shifted, to frown at Dana's face.  "That has 
got to be the hokiest.  Line.  Ever."

	Dana giggled.  "No, that would be the one I did earlier, about 
being friends."

	To her surprise, this only made Tara more annoyed.  "Why do you do 
that?"

	Dana shook her head.  "What?"

	"Every time I try to push you away, you go and say something like 
that -- just you, no faking it.  How can you live like that?  Unprotected."

	Dana almost answered immediately, but made herself think the 
question through.  "Because I don't want to be pushed away.  I want more 
moments like -- what we just had."  The moments of what it was like to be 
lovers and not just having sex.

	With a growl, Tara let go and sat up, swinging her legs over the 
edge of the bed.  She bent over and started sorting through their 
scattered clothing.

	Dana wasn't sure what to say, what to do.  She lay on her side, 
watching.  Was being close so hard?

	If you were used to not caring whose prick was inside you, maybe 
it was.

	"Mom will be home soon," Tara said, dropping some of Dana's 
clothes on the bed in front of Dana.

	Dana reached out and stroked the curve of Tara's back, tracing the 
bumps of her spine, ending up on her hip.  Tara caught her hand there, 
held it.  After a moment, she squeezed it, glancing back and down at Dana, 
biting her lower lip.

	Dana squeezed back, as much as she could.  Apology accepted.

	They dressed without touching, except for Tara fastening Dana's 
bra so she didn't have to rotate it around her back.  Tara didn't put one 
on.

	"I don't need it like you do," she said.

	Dana grimaced.  Would that she had breasts so small.

	"Hey," Tara said.  "I like your boobs."

	Which made Dana feel better than she expected.  But she hefted 
them in her hands, and said, "Yeah, but the sore shoulders are a bitch, 
sometimes."

	Which made Tara blink.  Her eyes were pale now, indeterminate.  
"Are they that big?"

	"When I bounce too much in P.E.  I need a REALLY good sports bra."

	Tara winced in sympathy.

	When they finished dressing, Dana hesitated, then stepped up to 
Tara and kissed her -- slowly, tenderly, hands on her cheeks.  Not 
erotic.  Intimate.

	When they broke, Tara looked at Dana uncertainly.  Even her 
breathing seemed uncertain.  But before Dana could say anything, a door 
slammed downstairs.

	"Tara!" a woman called.  "I'm home!"

	Tara rolled her eyes.  "Coming!" she shouted back.  She glanced at 
Dana's pack, and Dana went to get it as Tara opened the bedroom door.

	Dana followed her downstairs, lugging the pack.  At the bottom, 
Tara sharply gestured her to put the pack down.  Dana did so uncertainly, 
and Tara caught her left hand and pulled her down a hall into the kitchen.  
Her mother was looking through a pantry cabinet.

	"Tara, have you seen -- !" her mother called as she turned, then 
stopped when she saw Dana.  "Oh!"

	"Mom," Tara said, still holding on to Dana's hand, "this is my 
girlfriend, Dana.  Dana, Mom."

	Dana hid her surprise -- they hadn't said anything about, like, 
going out -- or even steady.  But she wasn't about to start a fight in 
front of her girlfriend's parent.

	Her mother didn't try to hide it.  "Girl ... friend."  Not said as 
a question, but still one.

	Dana nodded.  Tara looked defiantly at her mother.

	After a moment, Tara's mother stepped forward and held out her 
hand to Dana.  "Pleased to meet you, Dana.  I'm Bev Rezinski."  A 
different last name from Tara -- Dana wondered how it was spelled.  She 
was a tall woman, taller than Tara, and nearly as slender.  The difference 
between thin and skinny, the mother and daughter.

	Dana shook with her free hand.  "Dana Partlow," she said 
carefully.

	"Are you -- " Ms Rezinski began, but Tara broke in with, "She goes 
to Bryant."

	Dana glanced at Tara -- what was up with her?  It was like she was 
trying to emphasize their difference in ages.  "Eighth grade," she said to 
Ms Rezinski, preemptively.

	"I see," the woman said slowly.  When Tara seemed about to say 
something, Dana squeezed her hand to stop her.  It seemed to work -- or at 
least, Tara shut her mouth.

	To Dana, Ms Rezinski said, "Do your parents know about this?"

	Dana had to laugh.  "Um -- we've been going out for, what, an 
hour?  I haven't seen them yet."  Then a second thought of what she might 
be saying.  She added, "And yes, I'm out to them."

	"Well, Tara wasn't out to us," Ms Rezinski said dryly.  
"Nonetheless --"

	"I'm not out," Tara said, all but sullenly.  "I'm just going 
steady with a girl.  And you can't stop me."

	"That's enough, young woman," her mother said sharply.

	Tara drew herself up, and a little back, dropping Dana's hand.  
"You can't," she said defiantly.

	Dana turned to look at her through narrowed eyes.  Was she trying 
to push her mother into forbidding them from seeing each other?  Then it 
hit her -- she was.  Tara hadn't provoked Dana into pulling away, and now 
was looking for another excuse to not get close.

	"Now wait a minute," Ms Rezinski said.

	"Tara," Dana said, not loudly but clearly.  Mother and daughter 
looked at her.  "I don't care whether you are out.  I just want to go out 
-- for now.  If something more happens, it happens."  Neither of them 
spoke, so she added, "So stop panicking."

	Tara blew out a breath through close lips.  "You're something 
else, you know?"

	"Who's talking about panicking?" Ms Rezinski said, baffled.

	Were all adults dense about these things?  Tara's mom was almost
as bad as her own about these things.  "Tara's trying to provoke you."

	Ms Rezinski opened her mouth, then closed it, looking from Tara to
Dana.  Then she blew out her breath just like her daughter and brushed her 
hair back.  "You'd think I'd learn."

	Which got her a disgusted sound from Tara.  Dana gave her what she 
hoped was a quelling look.

	Without paying attention to Tara, Ms Rezinski asked, "Would you 
like to stay for dinner?"  Said in the polite way that suggested No was 
the preferred answer.

	Not that Dana could stay.  "Um, thanks, but I have to be home -- " 
she found the kitchen clock, and gulped, "in ten minutes.  I gotta run."

	As Dana turned to go, Ms Rezinski said, "Nonsense -- I'll drop you 
off."  To make sure she really was gone?  Or whatever.  If it got her home
before her stepmother's deadline, Dana would take it.

	Tara followed them down the hall.  "I'll come with."

	"No," her mother informed her, "you're starting dinner, so it'll 
be ready on time."

	"Mom," Tara said, this time half a whine.

	"No arguments," her mother said, getting her keys out of her 
purse as Dana hoisted her pack on her shoulders.

	Dana looked up at her girlfriend (girlfriend! -- she wanted to 
squee at the word) and said, "'Sokay Tara -- she won't eat me."

	"No, that's for me to do," Tara growled.

	Her mother cleared her throat, and Dana blushed.  Tara bent down 
and kissed her -- just a peck, but deliberate -- in front of her mother.  
Then with a defiant look, she went back to the kitchen.

	Dana looked up at Ms Rezinski, daring her to say anything against
them.

	With a sigh, the woman opened the door and ushered Dana out.  "This
will be an interesting dinner," she said.

	After they got in the car, Tara's mom stopped and looked at Dana.  
"I hope you know what you're doing."

	Well, no, she didn't.  Going steady with a girl who can't stand 
being too close?  Who claimed she wasn't gay?  But Dana answered, "We'll 
work it out."  Then, "People always do."  With enough listening to the
Light.

	After a moment, Ms Rezinski said, "I suppose they do."  And then
started the engine.


-END-
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+