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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age
Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Archive name: season10.txt (ff, teens)
Authors name: Linda B. (an454887@anon.penet.fi)
Story title : The Passing of Seasons - Chapter 10 of 13
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Copyright © 1996 Linda B. - This story is written for
adults and involves a consensual relationship between
two older teen girls. If you are a teenager, we as
adults don't think that you should read this even
though you are sexually mature and probably have much
more sexual desire than we do, but we are merely
jealous of your sexual virility. Please leave us alone
to *fantasize* about being your age once again. I'm
sorry but you'll have to wait until you're at least 18
before you can have your own fantasies. Preferably you
should wait until you're at least 30 or older, that way
you can really have something to fantasize about: your
very own teenage years!
I would appreciate any *positive* feedback about this
story, including your feelings as you read the story.
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The Passing of Seasons - Chapter 10
by Linda B. (an454887@anon.penet.fi)
When I got home, there was a note from mom saying she
was taking care of "business" at the store. Business
that usually meant shopping. And *lots* of it. She
took the whole process quite seriously. I remember
well the one time I went along. It was a big mistake.
Her rude, impatient attitude embarrassed me over and
over again. The second we left the house she was in
this kind of "get the hell out my way" frenzy, acting
more like an addict in desperate need of a fix than
anything else.
As the shopping progressed, the change in my mother
went slowly from night to day. With each beep of the
cash register, each signature, each detour back to the
car, mom was more and more elated, as if her emotional
high was somehow electronically linked to the credit
card balance.
But what happened when we got home that day sickened
me the most. My dad greeted us and asked her how she
was doing. Nothing was said. Instead, he was
immediately taken by the hand and escorted to the rear
of the car, where she proceeded to open the trunk lid,
exposing the vast quantities of her "booty".
"Just *look* in there," her eyes glazed over insanely
as she spoke. "That's how I feel! Right there!"
I watched the living room clock nervously at it
approached that magic hour, five O'clock. The hour
when hopefully Jenny would show up.
With each passing minute the prospects grew dimmer
like the slowly setting sun through the window shades.
Had she even seen my note? If so, why wasn't there a
reply?
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door and I
jumped up to answer it. As I opened the door I could
feel everything bubbling up inside me with
anticipation.
Wow! Was she a sight, wearing this off-the-shoulder
white dress with wide straps that crossed in front,
widening enough to barely encompass her breasts. Her
arms crossed in front too, making those pointy
shoulders poke out seductively.
Jenny looked like a sweet southern belle, an image of
delightful femininity.
Sure, I knew that being feminine is much more than
wearing darling dresses and lace and cute hairdos.
I knew that. But inside me there was this desire to
be that beautiful flower, just like Jennifer was. To
be caught up in that whimsical flight of fancy. Of
being totally and completely "girl". I was in love
with the thought of it and in love with love itself.
It sure looked like she had really gone well out of
her way to look extra pretty that day. But for me? I
could only dream of being the object of her affection,
she had so many other friends. Looking at how
attractive she was started stirring up all these
romantic, dreamy feelings again. It wastoo embarrass-
ing for me to admit to being such a tomboy. Too hard
to admit being afraid of being a girl, of not knowing
what it was all about. But desperately wanting someone
other than mother to help me sort things out. Someone
I could trust. Someone like Jenny.
Maybe, I wondered, if I dropped some subtle hints,
would she figure out what I really wanted? The only
question left was...how?
"Jenny? Do you think boys would...uh...think I was...
well...cute?" So much for subtle hints. I never was
very good about beating around the bush.
She put her hand under my chin and spoke in soft,
caring voice. "Oh, Sarah! Of course I do. *I* think
you're cute."
Suddenly I was pushing back tears, trying to avoid
eye contact and knowing she probably felt sorry for
me. What did I expect her to say anyway? NO, I THINK
YOU'RE UGLY! Not that it would have been a surprise
or anything.
Jenny was silent for a moment before finding the right
words. "I read an article recently called 'taking
charge of your looks' that talked about how each of us
has our own beauty and how we can do things to
*enhance* it, but we first need to have peace with
ourselves an accept who we are."
It made me feel really wonderful to hear that. Even
though I would never look like Jenny, it wasn't like
my looks were something to be ashamed of. As far as
acceptance was concerned, though, there was a ways to
go.
'Taking charge'. Mmmmm. I liked the sound of that.
Yet another favorite fantasy came to mind. One where
an attractive girl like Jenny or better yet, a group
of them would suddenly notice that I was just a bit
too *boyish*, a little too tom-boyish and that
*something* would have to be done about it. And right
away, too!
First I would hear little whispers, catching just
enough of the conversation to know that they were
talking about me. Then after listening more closely,
the realization would come; they were deciding what
they were going to *do* about it. More specifically,
what they were going to do to *me*.
Completely excited, yet scared, I would fantasize
about the treatment I was going to get. There would
be no choice. Not that they *had* to force me or
anything, but they *were* very persuasive and *very*
firm about things. Things that included a complete
makeover, lots of romantic, feminine clothes and
jewelry. Those kinds of things.
Throughout the entire day I would be pampered and
prettied nonstop, never having been asked my opinion
on anything. Everything would be decided for me. What
I should wear, what color my lipstick would be, how
my hair would be cut. Everything. Talk about a fantasy
that I would *never* admit to *anyone*! How embar-
rassing! How much *more* embarrassing to actually *do*
it! But then, wasn't the complete and total
*embarrassment* part of what made the whole thing so
exciting in the first place?!
"Jenny? This is kind of embarrassing, but..." A hot
blush flooded my face. It was almost impossible to
say it. These big waves of weak and tingly sensations
kept passing through me as I tried to force it out. I
told myself, "You're *going* to say it! Yes, you know
you want it and you're going to get it!"
"Ummm...I was kind of wondering...wondering if you
could...maybe help me choose some pretty clothes
and...well things like that maybe, you know?"
Talk about feeling stupid along with embarrassed! At
that point my face was buried in my lap, still trying
to hide my utter humiliation over what I had just
confessed.
"You look cute when you blush," Giggled Jennifer,
adding that she thought red was one of my colors.
Well I was sure wearing it enough!
"I really don't know much about all this stuff with
colors and makeup, you'll ...probably need to help
me, if you don't mind?"
Jenny voice was sexy. "That sounds like fuuuuun!
I couldn't wait to get all of that attention. I
wondered if she knew *exactly* all that I had in
mind. Probably not. Could there be a way to tell her
without risking even more embarrassment? Hopefully
not. I was getting much too excited by playing this
little game of "hide and seek" with her.
I would probably need a lot of work, don't you think
so Jenny? Oh, yes. She tried to say it diplomatically.
A "complete" makeover was just what I needed, the kind
you get at a mall department store. A mall that would
hopefully have a nice lingerie store, a formal wear
shop, a beauty salon, and plenty of maidens to attend
to my every need.
"Jenny, this is going to sound strange, I don't know
exactly how to say it, but I uh..." I wished I hadn't
known what I was about to say.
"It's O.K. sweetie." She put her hand under my chin.
"I hope I won't let you down or anything. I'm just
kind of afraid of that. That, like I might... like
chicken out or something at the last minute or
something like that, you know? You might have to make
some decisions for me."
Jenny started to get this silly grin on her face, Oh
no! A chill of fear went through my body thinking
about the reality that was taking place: She knew damn
well what I was doing! Then it was explained how she
couldn't *wait* to model me into some of those skimpy
little teddies at Freddy's. And while I was there?
Could I be so *kind* as to try on some of those oh-so-
sleezie little velvet cocktail dresses? And maybe,
just maybe, she could help me overcome all my fears.
Help me by making her self available in the dressing
room to assist me, if that was *O.K.*, and maybe even
if it wasn't!
You could see her wheels turning, figuring out some-
thing. Hopefully, something that needed to be done to
me. "Do you know what you need Sarah?"
Yes, I wondered, but did she? My whole body started
quivering with excitement as I waited for the pos-
sibilities to be made into probabilities.
"You need a *date*" She stuck her finger in the air
as she spoke. "A date for the big dance next month.
It's going to be ballroom dancing, really romantic.
I can't wait!"
I pouted, "You really think someone's going to ask
*me* to go?"
"When we're done with you, guys will be *lining* up
for a date with you!"
I was starting to feel a bit like Cinderella talking
to my fairy godmother. Maybe I'd get that pumpkin
coach after all!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sun, not thinking about adult situations. Do
your part to make our world a little safer.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 11