Tour de DeGarde

"What you think I ought to do?" April asked, watching as Sarah chopped up the celery.

"Go put some clothes on," Sarah wanted to say, but knew that April didn't need any criticism at the moment.

"If you believe in God, pray," Sarah quipped. "And if you don't believe in God, ask a friend to pray."

"Ha ha," April muttered.

Sarah spooned out a large dollop of the salad onto the toasted bread, filled April's favorite bowl with the canned soup and set the meal in front of April.

"Thank you," April muttered.

The rest of the tuna salad, Sarah simply spooned out onto a bed of lettuce and the two ate in silence.

April was obviously uneasy being alone; she followed Sarah into her bedroom and kept up a running monologue while Sarah pedaled her way through a thirty five minute work-out. Sarah was sure April would have followed her into the bathroom if she had let her, but Sarah firmly shut the door.

After her quick masturbation and shower, Sarah let herself out of the bathroom. It was almost a relief to smell the smoke coming from April's bedroom. At least she'd have a little peace and quiet now.

Chapter 6

Siegel Recycling Services in Baylor Lake, Louisiana, obviously did not talk with Gil, April's former boss at Domino's Pizza. She was hired only two days after submitting her resume and application. She was hired to work from three o'clock until nine o'clock, Tuesday through Saturday and found it to be hot, sweaty, sticky work.

Her immediate supervisor, Janelle Young spent most of her time in the small office, either chatting, texting, or playing games on her phone. After the third day of being all but ignored by the supervisor, April asked Robert Menendez how Janelle had ever been made a manager.

Robert looked very pointedly at April's flat chest, looked through the window of the small office at Janelle's impressive chest, then smirked, "You tell me."

At the apartment, Sarah was very happy with April's new job. The hours were perfect; April would usually be leaving just as Sarah got home from classes. Sarah would force herself to wait, filling her time with homework and studying.

Then , when she knew she couldn't wait any longer Sarah would make sure the front door was securely locked. She would go into her bedroom, lock the door and jam the rubber stopper underneath the door, strip out of her clothing, put on her cute socks and athletic shoes and jump on her bike. Her pussy would already be drooling; her lips fully engorged, her clitoris pulsing with excitement.

Sarah wished the odometer had not been maxed out at 99,999and 9/10th miles; she would have loved to know how far she had ridden the bike.

"About a thousand orgasms," she giggled as she now started out at level 2.

She could take the bike to level 4 but only for a few moments, only for one orgasm.

But her workouts were now thirty to forty minutes long and she wasn't a shaky wreck after she finished.

Then, she would pull her robe tightly around herself, open her bedroom door, and check very carefully that April was not home, then she would take her bubble bath for more masturbation.

She would sit on the floor of the tub, still quite fleshy buttocks pressed firmly against the wall of the tub, legs stretching up the wall of the enclosure.

Then she would turn on the faucet. The first blast of cold water was always a shock when it splashed onto her hairless pussy, but then the nearly scalding water would pummel her pussy into a series of orgasms.

Sarah even liked smearing the bubble bath concentrate onto her mound, letting the bubbles foam up around her sensitive crotch.

Finally, when she was in danger of drowning under the bubbles, she would use her strong leg muscles to push herself back away from the wall, until she was sitting up in the sudsy water.

Most of the time, Sarah would be satiated after her bath. Sometimes though, after a dinner, a dinner that consisted mainly of vegetables and no carbohydrates, Sarah would get the overwhelming urge to take her bicycle for another spin.

On Sundays and Mondays, April's days off, Sarah would nearly crawl out of her skin; she wanted to masturbate, wanted to ride her bicycle. But on Sundays and Mondays, Sarah would have to limit herself to just one thirty minute work out and a quick shower afterward. April didn't help, seeming to be in no mood to go anywhere or do anything other than sit around all day in her football jersey and smoking obscene amounts of marijuana.

"Man, Sarah, you're really looking good!" April commented one Monday as Sarah came home from class.

"What?" Sarah asked pausing at the door of the kitchen. "What you mean?"

"Your legs and your butt," April said.

Sarah tried to look at her rear end in her short skirt, then shrugged.

"Ass is still too big," she corrected.

"No it's not; I'd kill to have your butt," April said then went back to watching a talk show.

Sarah made a quick fruit salad, made sure to make a little extra for April, who had chipped in forty dollars toward their groceries and joined April on the couch.

"What are you watching," she asked, face screwed up in confusion.

"Oh, this is that guy, oh damn it, Rodney Prejean," April said as a young woman, face pixilated out of focus, voice electronically modulated talked about sex with her brother.

"This is disgusting!" Sarah declared as the girl defended their actions.

"Honey, sex is sex," Rodney smugly told the girl. "Just because he did it in your rear end instead of your vagina doesn't make it okay."

"But you can't get pregnant," she defended.

"We'll be right back; next, her brother will be joining us here in our studio," Rodney told the camera. "Later, we'll hear from their father. I wonder if HE thinks anal sex is okay."

Disgusting or not, Sarah stayed and watched the entire show with April. No, the father did not think that anal sex was okay. Another girl admitted to having a lesbian relationship with her sister and their mother forgave her. The sister could not join them; she being deceased from an automobile accident.

"Tomorrow, we'll be taking a look inside the world of exotic dancers," Rodney told the camera. "We'll be joined by dancers from The Dead End, Mickey's, and Elegante. They'll talk about what it's like to take their clothes off in front of strangers and maybe we can get them to give us a little demonstration of their skills, huh? How about that?"

"Oh, April, really?" Sarah asked as April grabbed the remote control and set it to record the next day's show.

"What?" April asked, blushing hotly.

Sarah laughed softly and went to her room.

Twenty minutes into her studying, Sarah could smell the smoke seeping out of April's room. Her clothes came off as soon as she could make sure the bedroom door was locked and she frantically cycled to orgasm.

The seat rasped deliciously against her splayed pussy lips and mashed her clitoris hard.

She finished off her exercise with a ten minute rowing exercise, giving herself two more orgasms.

She slid her shoes off, then gathered her robe and pajamas, her filmy pink harem outfit and went to the bathroom.

Reaching underneath the sink, Sarah remembered that she was out of baby oil. Thankfully, she had bought a bottle; it was in her bedroom, on her desk.

She entered her bedroom, only to see April kneeling next to her exercise bike, frantically rubbing her pussy while sucking on her leather saddle.

"Wha... Wha..." Sarah stammered, shocked.

"Oh no!" April moaned.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked, shocked.

"Tasting you," April sobbed, hand still pressed to her pussy.

Sarah sat on the foot of her bed, staring at April.

She was nude, football jersey pooled at the front of her bike. Her small nipples looked red and raw; April must have been pinching and pulling them while her other hand rubbed her pussy.

"I don't, I don't know what to say," Sarah finally said.

"Don't say... Just let me taste you," April begged.

Sarah sat, looking at the hotly blushing, sobbing girl. After a long moment, she got to her feet.

April immediately went back to sucking at the leather saddle. Sarah closed and locked the bedroom door, then hung up her robe.

"Here," she said, pushing April's head out of the way as she straddled the saddle.

"Oh!" April moaned and tried to jam her tongue in between Sarah's legs.

Both girls moaned in frustration.

"Let's..." April said and walked on her knees to kneel behind Sarah.

"Oh!" Sarah gasped as she felt April's tongue lick frantically at her anus.

She leaned forward, pushing the handlebars far forward. This maneuver opened her rectum slightly and April wormed her tongue into Sarah's anus as far as she could.

Her fingers reached underneath and slid in and out of Sarah's spread pussy.

"Fuck!" Sarah cried out in orgasm.

"Oh God!" April cried out as her own orgasm came on strong.

After a second, powerful orgasm, Sarah couldn't take any more of the leather saddle's roughness and slithered off of the bike. April frantically followed, lapping and fingering at Sarah's ass and pussy as Sarah crawled onto her bed.

She knelt on her bed, ass high in the air while April licked and sucked at her rectum, fingers never ceasing their digging inside of her pussy.

"Enough!" Sarah coughed out after another powerful orgasm rippled through her.

She flopped over onto her side.

Sarah swept her stuffed animals onto the floor and pulled herself up to her pillows. April followed, now focusing her hands on Sarah's cone shaped breasts.

"Maria know you..." Sarah asked, putting an arm weakly over April's bony hip.

"Yeah," April admitted. "We'd get all fucked up, then she'd want to get all freaky."

"Freak..." Sarah started to ask.

"Yeah, she um..." April said then looked away, heavy blush on her face.

"She um, she'd tell me what a slut I am and she'd um, she'd um, you know, she'd um..." April mumbled.

She softly patted Sarah's smooth pussy.

"She um, she'd slap my pussy," April said.

"Like..." Sarah asked and lightly slapped April between her legs.

"Harder," April moaned and stuffed her tongue into Sarah's mouth.

Sarah did and April shuddered and moaned.

Epilogue

Sarah managed to slim down to a hundred and twelve pounds; her mother says she's far too skinny.

To make sure she doesn't slip below one twelve, once a week Sarah makes herself a batch of chocolate chip cookies. She also makes herself a dinner of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

April decided that sifting through other peoples' garbage wasn't for her and began taking classes to get her high school diploma. As soon as she has that in hand, she plans to start attending the University of Louisiana at DeGarde.

April's trial came up and Donald Pellichet got the arresting officer to admit that while April's fingerprints had been on the small bag of marijuana in her purse, the only fingerprints on the bag containing nearly three ounces of meth had belonged to Kenneth Prejean the Third.

"Young lady," Judge Marie Robichaux intoned from the bench. "Consider yourself quite lucky; you were looking at some very serious time. Maybe some power greater than yourself is trying to give you a second chance in life?"

Quitting smoking marijuana cold turkey was much more difficult than April could have ever imagined but she did it. She attends two or three Narcotics Anonymous meetings a week and has a tough as nails NA sponsor that she is working the 12 Steps with.

A month after quitting smoking weed, April came into Sarah's room and showed her that she couldn't button her favorite jeans.

"I need to use the bike," she laughed.

Kenneth Prejean, Kenneth Prejean the Third's grandfather was representing his grandson, until the evidence of the bag of meth was also introduced.

As much as it galled him to admit he was in over his head, Kenneth Prejean enlisted the help of Penny Richards. Even with the high powered attorney at his table, though, Kenneth Prejean the Third was found guilty of possession with intent to distribute and was given eight to twelve years. The best that his attorney could do was have Kenneth serve out his sentence at Toco Hills Medium Security Lockup in west Louisiana.

"That's the best..." he sneered at the stupid bitch his grandfather had wasted his college trust fund on.

"Most intent to distribute go to Angola or Mumphrey; we can still get you over there if you want," she snapped at the arrogant young man.

Marc Whitman continues to be a complete mystery to his next-door neighbors. Is he gay? Is he straight? Is he one of those oddities; an asexual being?

But he continues to gracefully accept the occasional chocolate chip cookie plate from Sarah, and continues to assist his neighbors when they need it.

He even bought Sarah a new speedometer/odometer for her bike.

April still has her own bedroom although every night is spent in Sarah's bed. They are lovers but neither will admit it. Neither wants to be the one to say 'love' first.

Xxxx

"Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle, I want to ride my bicycle, Sarah sang out as April pedaled furiously.

"Don't!" April squealed as Sarah tickled at her puckered anus with two spittle laden fingers.

"I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike," Sarah laughed as the two fingers entered April's anus.

"You just wait until it's your turn," April moaned as Sarah fucked the two fingers in and out of her rectum.

"Keep pedaling; you'll never lose the pounds that way," Sarah teased as April had to stop pedaling as her orgasm racked her slight body.

April looked at the odometer when Sarah pulled the two fingers out and sucked them clean.

"Oh well, Ten miles? I was finished anyway," she giggled and got to shaky legs.

She pointed to her hairless crotch.

"You were right, though; it's a lot better without the hair," she said.

"Uh huh; you going to clean it off so I can use it now?" Sarah ordered as she started to shimmy out of her clothing.

April knelt down and began to suck the leather saddle clean of her juices.

She squealed as Sarah knelt behind her and slapped her drooling pussy with a loud 'smack.' Sarah slapped and slapped until April grunted in orgasm.

The End.

*****

Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

Thank you for reading my stories.

Yes, I need an Editor.

Yes, it jumps around too much.

Yes, there's too many people to keep track of.

Yes, this is stupid shit.

Yes, I suck.

And you have yourself a super sparkly day.