People from their pasts influence their future.
********
To Beverly’s knowledge, having strawberries for breakfast wasn’t all that unusual. Dipping them in whipped cream wasn’t uncommon either. But spreading whipped cream over the body of a beautiful woman then eating the fruit from the surface of her taut, dark skin, well . . . She felt sorry for anyone who hadn’t tried it.
It had only been a few months since Beverly had moved in, but had seemed like she had lived a lifetime in those many days. Raised by a fascist, religious zealot of a father, she had struck out one cold and rainy night to be rescued by her then friend, and now lover, Tammy. Tammy was a goddess, in Beverly’s eyes and in many other peoples’. This dark-skinned, full-breasted, athletic and brilliant sheriff had plucked her from the rain, chewed out her father, and help ensure that Beverly never looked back. And she hadn’t.
Tammy had helped make her feel beautiful for the first time in her eighteen years of life. She was more likely to let the blonde curls of her hair flow freely over her shoulders, contrasting with her tanning skin. Both women were generously endowed in the breast department. Beverly’s hips were a bit wider (farmer’s daughter’s hips) than Tammy’s, but not out of proportion with the rest of her body. Both were well-muscled girls with healthy . . . ahem, appetites. Particularly at the moment.
Beverly had gotten up early. Tammy had looked so beautiful, lying there on the pristine white sheets. Beverly had rushed down stairs to get the strawberries and whipped cream, and had started breakfast early. Her lover had awoken to the feel of cream on her skin and Beverly’s lips on her crotch. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Hmmm. Good morning to you to.”
“Mgdph mernin'” was Beverly’s reply.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Tammy, who pushed the blonde girl’s head harder against her pussy. She felt the younger girl’s oral attentions increase in speed. Beverly broke away occasionally so she could spray more cream on Tammy’s crotch. She would then take a strawberry, swirl it through the whipped deliciousness and Tammy’s juices before taking a bite. Then she gave the older woman’s crotch one last coat, and placed a particularly succulent strawberry firmly between those beautiful pussy lips. With one quick motion of her tongue, she dipped her tongue deeply into Tammy’s box, scooped up the cream and managed to get the strawberry into her mouth in one fell swoop. Beverly briefly, and amusingly, had the thought cross her mind that someone should market a candy that was strawberry, cream, and cum flavored. But it probably wouldn’t be nearly as good as going straight to the source.
The next patch of cream appeared on Tammy’s stomach. Beverly ate a strawberry out of her belly-button before lapping up the cream like a kitten. Then came the breasts. Oh, those wonderful breasts. Beverly had discovered something since admitting to herself that she was sexually attracted to women. She liked tits. She liked them a lot. Full, soft, wonderful breasts. When she was alone, she enjoyed playing with her own generous endowments, but she much preferred playing with Tammy’s. Beverly covered the older girl’s chest with the condiment, then took a great deal of time licking it up before replacing it with a second coat.
“You really are obsessed with those things, aren’t you?”
“You don’t seem to mind.”
“Hell no! Keep up the good work! Mmm. That feels wonderful.”
Beverly was running her hands over Tammy’s ample chest, which was slippery with whipped cream residue. She sucked on each nipple with great delight, while cupping both mounds with her hands. One hand eventually worked its way back to Tammy’s crotch, where her fingers went to work. Tammy was beginning to moan in earnest now, and was humping against Beverly’s hand. The blonde girl used her free hand to grab one of Tammy’s sensitive nipples and tweak it while she took the other nipple in her teeth.
“Oh fuck, girl! Now you’ve . . . you’ve . . . Kiss me! I want you to be kissing me when I cum!”
Beverly did as requested. She locked lips with the other girl, who bit lightly down on her lower lip as an orgasm rocked her body. Beverly was lying on top of her now, their bodies smeared with cream and strawberry juice and soon, Tammy’s own nectar. Tammy’s body took a while to unclench and come down from her sexual high, but when it did, she looked so delightfully tired. Just then, a call came in on Tammy’s police radio. Someone had broken into a liquor store.
“Damn it! And I was going to make breakfast.”
“That’s okay,” Beverly said grinning. “I’ve already ate.”
“Cute.” Tammy kissed her friend. “I’ve got to get ready. I need to shower. Care to join me?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
The two girls hurried into the shower and started getting cleaned up. Both of them had to work. Tammy had to get to the crime scene, and Beverly had to get to the Sav-O-Mart. They had a strange relationship, but they were happy. Beverly worried about what was going to happen when she left for college next year, but she was going to enjoy being with Tammy as much as she could.
“Gotta go,” said Tammy as she was finished getting dressed. Beverly was still nude, sitting on the counter. Tammy came over and kissed her. “But I’ll return the favor this evening.”
“Can’t wait,” Beverly said coyly as she squeezed her breasts together with her arms.
“Damn. I’ll see you, and those, tonight.” Tammy rushed down the stairs and opened the door. “Don’t forget to feed the dogs before you leave!”
Beverly started getting dressed when she heard the door slam. She fed the two bloodhounds, Thunder and Lightning, then headed out to the car. Tammy had three vehicles, including a police jeep, a blue corvette, and an old truck. Beverly had recently been given permission to drive the corvette, which she did every chance she got. Tammy showed a lot of trust in the new driver, so Beverly took good care of the car, but she did occasionally need to open it up and go as fast as she could.
It was an uneventful day for the most part. Lots of guys stopped by the store to stare, and she had lunch at the diner that Tammy owned just down the street from the Sav-O-Mart and looked over school brochures. She hadn’t decided for sure where she wanted to go to school yet. It pained her to think about going to off to school sometimes. As badly as she wanted to get as far away from this place, she was afraid of what it was going to happen to her and Tammy. But that was months away, and she was going to enjoy the time she had before she had to make a decision. She actually didn’t mind the town, or the nice people who regularly attended the diner. But she had a past here; one she wanted to get away from. Her father still lived around here. The man who had made her feel like less than nothing her whole life until he threw her out after she had stood up to him. She had stood up to him for herself and because he had insulted Tammy, who by then had become a good friend. He had perverted all that was good about her faith to try and make her hate that “half-breed whore” (his favorite phrase). It had backfired, but she still felt bile build up in her mouth every time she thought about him.
She got out of work early that day, and headed home. On a whim, she stopped and picked up some flowers for Tammy. Nothing too expensive, but pretty. She hoped Tammy liked them. Her sheriff may have been all business in the real world, but Beverly sensed she still enjoyed certain aspects of being treated like a lady. Maybe she would smell them when she got home, then smile at Beverly. They might play a game of chess, with Tammy drinking wine and Beverly sipping on lemonade. Then, well . . . who knows what would happen next.
She pulled into the long drive leading up to Tammy’s a-frame house, and noticed two things. One, Tammy’s police jeep wasn’t back yet. Two, there was a stranger’s car parked next to the house. It looked like a rental. Beverly was suddenly nervous. What if it was a burglar? Nonsense, she thought. Anyone from around these parts knew whose house this was and how much trouble they would be in if they got caught. Plus, the car was parked right out front, in easy view of everything. Beverly got out and looked around. There appeared to be a woman sitting on the porch next to the door. Beverly headed up the porch stairs.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh,” the woman said with a start. She was a beautiful woman, apparently in her early thirties. Fiery red hair pulled back in a severe bun, stunning green eyes and a nicely rounded figure. She was wearing snug jeans and a sensible looking jacket. “I thought this was Tamara Huntley’s house. I must have read the address wrong . . .”
“No, this is Tammy’s . . . I mean Tamara’s house. She’s still out on a call. May I help you.”
“No, but thank you.” The woman seemed strangely subdued and crestfallen. “I really need to speak to her about something.”
“Well, if you’d like to leave your name and number, I could have her call you when she gets in.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think she’d return my call.”
“I don’t see why not. She very good at that sort of thing, Ms.,” she said noticing no ring on the woman’s finger. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. But it’s Carrie. Carrie King.”