Curious Chloe overrides nervous Chloe

Masturbation was one of Chloe's favorite pastimes. Gavin gave her a long playlist once of her most-loved songs, but she never explained to him the reasons why. If she did, she doubted Gavin could look at her the same way again.

Most of her fantasy men were big screen characters (Jules Baudin being a common featured player, especially when David Cranston played him when she was a kid, ah yes), actual people she knew found a way to crash her party and **** her to feel guilty. It would just happen too, without any kind of warning. One minute, it's the debonair super spy, and the next, it's... Jerimiah from study hall. Or Mr. Binfaud. Or Brandon.

Well, mostly Brandon. Lots... and lots of Brandon. God damn, if Ashley ever knew.

Another girl never crossed her reveries though, and part of her wondered if that would remain so as Heather offered to disrobe herself.

"Uh, sure, yeah, okay," Chloe stumbled over words. Athleticism on the field doesn't transfer very well to erudition of speech.

A quick pull, and Heather's brown bush fell into view. It glistened like freshly condensed dew on morning grass.

"I... can tell you had fun," Chloe coughed.

"Mmm, memories can be powerful things." Agile fingers graced her lawn, carving light trails around her recess. "And she has so many right now over such a short time."

Heather led Chloe through the turbulent morning, passing over the fly-over country and settling on the main attractions. Taylor's gushing pussy as Hannah plundered it. Her own as Taylor stripped her of her lesbian virginity. Ashley's arrival and the glorious poses of Origasmi. The strapon -- oh god that horrible, awful, exquisite strapon that started this entire ride. And then...

"Ah!" Chloe mewled. Heather, lost with the ghost of carnal past, snapped back to reality. She shone brighter than the Sun, with her hefty chest rolling in wondrous heaves under that ugly shirt. Her jaw hung loosely with a light bulb of drool collecting at one corner. Her eyes were locked on target.

Maybe she wants to mow the grass? Heather had to know.

"Chloe...?" she oozed. She parted herself, and fought back a shudder of anticipation. "Would you... like to help?"