Jehovah's Witness Romance Ch. 03

*

Holly, Samantha and Andrea had returned to their room when dinner finished, and their parents went out to the opera. The teenagers had all removed their shoes, and were lying stomach down on their beds reading, their legs bent at their knees, swinging their feet back and forth.

Andrea and Samantha both had bare feet, the stirrups of Andrea's pants tight around the arches of her feet. Samantha had removed her cute white ankle socks and shoes, and she wriggled her toes, her pink soles and toes contrasting with her beautiful black skin on top. Holly still wore her pink pantyhose, her dainty little feet visible through the nylon fabric.

Andrea was more interested in the two girls opposite than in the book she was reading. Samantha's blue pleated skirt had ridden up slightly, and only just covered the fabric of her panties. If it rode up less than half an inch, Samantha's undies would be in view. Holly, on the top bunk, appeared distracted, and Andrea saw her often checking her watch.

As the time of 7.30 arrived, not to Andrea's great surprise Holly climbed down and slid on her shoes. "I'm just going downstairs for a while. I promised some of the others from Kingdom Hall that I would play pool with them," said Holly, her facial expression looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She collected her purse and asthma inhaler. "I'll catch both of you later."

"See you later," said Andrea and Samantha in unison.

Holly exited and closed the door, and Andrea shook her head and muttered in a voice over-loaded with sarcasm, "Yeah, I know where you are really going."

Samantha looked over, puzzled. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, just talking to myself," said Andrea.

"Oh," said Samantha. The girl thought about it for a minute and then said, "So far as I know, Holly can't even play pool."

"Maybe she's going to learn to do some new things that she's never done before?" suggested Andrea, knowing that Samantha was not going to pick up on this double-entendre.

Andrea's hypothesis was immediately proven correct by Samantha's reply. "Yes, I guess they must be teaching her." Samantha looked across at Andrea. "I've never played pool either. Why don't we go and join them?"

"No, I don't think that's a very good idea," said Andrea.

Samantha's facial expression showed puzzlement. "Why not?"

"Because Holly obviously doesn't want us there," said Andrea. "If Holly had wanted us there, she would have said something like, 'Hey, why don't you come along?' wouldn't she? But Holly didn't say that, so that means she doesn't."

"Oh," said Samantha, looking disappointed. She looked around the room. "So, what would you like to do?"

"How about we watch music videos?" suggested Andrea, reaching for the TV remote control.

Samantha looked horrified. "Holly and I aren't allowed to watch music video shows."

"Well Holly won't be watching it," said Andrea. She was certain that Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien would prefer Holly to be watching music videos than what she was up to at this very moment, but they would never know about that. "Adam and I aren't supposed to watch music video shows either, but what my parents and your parents don't know can't hurt them."

"I guess," said Samantha, looking most uncomfortable as Andrea turned on the television and put on a music channel. Andrea noticed that her pretty black roommate was reluctant to look at the screen, fearful at doing something her parents had forbidden.

After about five minutes, Samantha stood up, Andrea seeing Samantha's white panty fabric under her pleated skirt as she got to her feet. "I have to go to the bathroom." Samantha walked on her bare feet to the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her.

Lifting her skirt to expose the white cotton panties with seascape print she was wearing, Samantha pulled them down to her ankles and sat on the toilet, her knees open to show her black triangle of pubic hair and her black pussy with a bright pink interior. The girl unwound toilet paper intermittently as she used the toilet for the next five minutes, but as the teenager reached for the toilet roll for the sixth time, she saw something fall from her hair and land on her arm.

Casting a casual glance to see what it was, Samantha went rigid on the toilet, her eyes widening and fear filling her face, panic rising in her stomach. Crawling around her upper arm, which thankfully was covered by her sweater, was the yellow and black body of a bee. It had become entangled in Samantha's hair hours earlier during the sight-seeing excursion, and remained un-noticed until now. There was nothing in this world that Samantha feared more than stinging insects -- bees, wasps, hornets and yellow-jackets. She wasn't allergic to them, however the last time she had been stung by a bee, it was on her lower forearm and it had come up in a painful, itchy red lump.

Seeing the bee's abdomen pulsating, as though it was preparing to bury it's stinger into her arm. Full of panic, Samantha screamed out, "Andrea! Andrea, help!"

Andrea, who had only heard the sound of Samantha advancing the toilet roll from the bathroom, was alarmed to hear her panic-stricken voice, and ran to the door as fast as her bare feet would carry her. "Samantha, what's wrong."

"Andrea, there's a bee on me! Please help me, I'm really scared."

"Okay Samantha, just keep calm and don't panic," said Andrea, cool and collected, and always good in a crisis. "I'll help you."

"Please help me," pleaded Samantha, as she watched the bee. "I'm frightened it will sting me."

"I'll be right with you," Andrea assured her.

Andrea collected the room key, a drinking glass and a drinks coaster. "I'm coming in," she said, opening the bathroom door and stopping short slightly breathless. Samantha was sitting on the toilet in her full view, the girl's skirt hitched up and her cute white panties with the seascape design of starfish, dolphins, shells and seahorses she had seen on the line the other day around her ankles and bare feet.

To Andrea's amazement, Samantha's legs were wide open and her knees far apart, fully displaying her pubic hair and vagina. Andrea tried not to stare, but it was impossible for her not to discretely look at what she had been wanting to see more than anything else in the past few weeks; Samantha's teen pussy. She wished it was in circumstances different to Samantha sitting on the toilet, such as them undressing and getting into bed together or sharing a steamy shower, but this was still pretty hot. Andrea felt her clitoris respond and a dampness in her own panties as she looked at the curls of dark pubic hair that covered Samantha's mound and extended between her legs and Samantha's vagina, her pussy flaps black like the rest of her skin with the interior bright pink.

"Andrea, hurry," pleaded Samantha.

"Okay, keep very still," said Andrea, walking over to the toilet. She pulled Samantha's sweater fabric back from her arm. Samantha squirmed in terror on the toilet, her eyes wide as Andrea scooped the bee into a glass with the coaster, and the insect buzzed around in its glass prison. Andrea glanced downwards at Samantha's bare feet and lowered panties, seeing a cream-colored feminine stain on the saddle of her panties, again getting excited in her own pants.

"Andrea, please get rid of it," begged Samantha.

"Okay, I'll put it out the window," Andrea assured Samantha, opening the frosted glass window, releasing the bee which flew off with loud buzzing into the damp Seattle night.

"Thank you so much," said Samantha, still oblivious to the fact that she was sitting with her legs wide open, showing off her pubic hair and vagina to Andrea.

"You're welcome, it's no problem at all," Andrea assured the girl. She tried not to look directly at Samantha's pussy as she turned to leave.

Samantha looked down at her panties and froze. In her line of sight were her wide-open knees. Looking down at her crotch, the teenager's face registered horror as she realized that she had been sitting like that the whole time Andrea was in here. She hastily closed her legs, and covered her pubic hair by cupping her hand over her mound, but this was a classic case of closing the gate after the horse had bolted. Her face hot with embarrassment, Samantha wanted to be reassured that Andrea had not seen her pussy. "Um Andrea," she began in a small voice. "You didn't see my um, err, vagina, did you?"

Andrea waited a second too long before replying. "Um, no."

Samantha was mortified. "You did see it."

"No I didn't," said Andrea, trying to sound convincing. "I was worried about catching the bee, I didn't see anything."

Normally, the naïve Samantha was easy to deceive, but there was no fooling her on this occasion. "I know you must have seen my vagina," she lamented.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Andrea reassured Samantha. "It's not like I haven't seen a vagina before. In fact, I see at least one vagina every day."

The naïve Samantha returned. "Whose vagina?" she asked with a puzzled expression.

Andrea smiled. "Think about it Samantha. Am I a boy or a girl?"

"You're a girl," said the confused Samantha.

"Exactly, so whose vagina do you think I see every day?"

Samantha finally got it. "Your vagina."

"That's right, I see my vagina every day," said Andrea. "I'll just leave you to have some privacy." Andrea stepped back into the bedroom, and closed and locked the bathroom door behind her. She heard Samantha unwinding toilet paper several times as the girl finished, before the sound of Samantha flushing the toilet and washing her hands was audible.

The sound of the cistern refilling still audible, Samantha opened the door and came back into the bedroom, sitting on the bottom bunk of her bed, opposite Andrea. "I am so sorry I was sitting on the toilet with my legs open like that," said Samantha. "It must have been embarrassing for you as well as me."

"It's okay really, there's no need to keep worrying about it," said Andrea. "I think every girl in America has had an embarrassing toilet experience at least once in her life."

"That makes it two in a week for me," said Samantha. "After last period gym class, I was the last to finish having a shower and getting dressed. I really needed to use the toilet, but when I went into the girls' bathroom in the gym, there was no toilet paper in any of the four stalls. I had to go and ask one of the gym teachers for some, and he gave me a dozen rolls of toilet paper out of a storage closet so I could re-stock the girls' bathroom. I was walking through the gym carrying the toilet rolls, and the boys' basketball team, full of great-looking guys was practicing. Anyway, I tripped over, my skirt went up over my waist showing my panties and my toilet paper went everywhere. The guys had to help me pick up the toilet rolls. It was so embarrassing."

Andrea laughed. "Samantha, that sort of thing happens to all of us. About a month ago, I went to the bathroom at home one night. I was sitting on the toilet, and all of a sudden there was a blackout, the power went out and I couldn't see a thing. I had to call to Mom to bring me a flashlight so I could finish."

"Were you embarrassed?" asked Samantha.

"Yes, and it only got worse the next day when Mom was on the phone to Grandma, telling her about how I got stranded on the toilet during a blackout. And this morning, there was no toilet paper in that gas station girls' bathroom when Holly needed to use the toilet. Adam had to get her some tissues to use instead. So as you can see, that sort of thing happens to all girls."

"I didn't see that with Holly this morning," said Samantha. "I still feel embarrassed, though."

Andrea again tried to reassure Samantha. "Don't feel embarrassed. It's just the two of us who know about it, and if we don't tell anyone, it will be our little secret."

"Wow, all these secrets," said Samantha. "First the music videos, and now this."

"All girls have secrets," said Andrea.

"I know I do," said Samantha. "Lots of secrets."

Andrea was puzzled. Samantha was a terrible over-sharer, and completely naïve. Would she have any secrets, and what would they be? She decided to probe further. "I can't imagine you have too many secrets, Samantha," said Andrea.

"Oh, but I do," said Samantha. "Terrible secrets that I've never told anyone about."

"Would you tell me any of them?" asked Andrea. "I wouldn't tell anyone. We're friends, right? I'll be like a Catholic priest hearing confessions. I won't say a word."

Samantha looked reluctant to speak. "Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," Andrea assured her. The teenagers went and sat on Andrea's bed, and the nervous Samantha found her voice.

"Sometimes I promise my parents I'm going upstairs to read my bible," said Samantha. "But I don't read my bible, I read other books or magazines instead."

Andrea was disappointed. This was hardly an earth-shattering secret, but then again, should she really have expected any different? "Well, that's not too bad," said Andrea. "We all do that."

"Really?" asked Samantha.

"Really," said Andrea. "I do it, and I am 100 percent sure Holly does too."

"I thought it was just me," said Samantha. "But that's not my biggest secret."

"Go on," said Andrea, expecting another minor, trivial thing that Samantha felt badly about.

"Do you promise you won't tell?" pleaded Samantha.

"I promise," said Andrea.

Samantha took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone about this, but I have always been really jealous of Holly."

Andrea's ears pricked up. This was interesting, and unexpected. Well it could be interesting. Perhaps Samantha's jealousy of Holly stemmed from her sister doing better in a kids' bible class when they were younger, or some other minor thing? Then again, perhaps there was more to it. "You're jealous of your sister?" she asked, trying not to sound judgmental.

If Andrea wanted to avoid a judgmental tone in her voice, she failed. "See, I knew you wouldn't understand," Samantha pouted.

"Samantha, I do understand sibling rivalry," said Andrea, "but why are you jealous of Holly?"

"Because Holly is Mom and Dad's real daughter, and I'm only adopted, they love Holly more," said Samantha, a glum look on her face. "It's not even as though I can pretend that I'm their real daughter. My parents are short fair-haired people; my aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins are short and fair. And then there's Holly, who's not only short, but an albino as well. Finally there's me, tall and black. When we walk down the street together, it looks ridiculous."

Andrea was surprised. How had Samantha kept this, which obviously was a big secret causing her so much angst, to herself for so many years? She tried to be reassuring. "Samantha, your parents love you just as much as they love Holly. You are their real daughter, it's just that you were adopted. They're still your parents as much as they are Holly's."

"Yes, but they always paid so much more attention to Holly with her asthma, her bad eyesight and being albino," said Samantha.

"That's understandable," said Andrea. "Holly has always had a lot of health problems. But I understand it must have been difficult for you."

Samantha nodded. "When I was younger, I used to wish that I had asthma just like Holly."

"You wished you had asthma?" Andrea was disbelieving.

"Yes. Holly would get to stay off school, and Mom and Dad's attention would be all on her when she had an asthma attack. She sometimes had to go to the hospital if her asthma was bad, and she would get to stay over and play and have fun with the other kids there. Then there was her bad eyesight. I was always getting in trouble if I did anything that might damage her glasses, like trying them on to see what they were like. And one time when we were kids, this lady who was writing a book about albino kids rang Mom and Dad, and wanted to interview them and Holly. Holly got to wear her best clothes and sit with Mom and Dad and talk to the interesting lady, while I got sent outside to play on the swing-set."

"That must have felt bad," said Andrea.

"It did," said Samantha, "and when we got older, things only got worse. Holly got better grades, people liked her more and she would do the right thing and get praised while I would try to do the right thing and get in trouble. Then she was allowed to play sports, and I wasn't."

Andrea, like her twin a frustrated athlete who was likewise prohibited from team sports, interjected at this point. Even if Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien had wanted nothing more than for Samantha to be a star athlete, this would never have happened. "I can see your parents' point on that one," said Andrea. "Holly needed to do sports because of her asthma."

"Yes, but I wish I could have played too," said Samantha, oblivious to her lack of sporting talent, cruelly displayed in each gym class. "Then Holly learned to drive really easily, and I still can't get my license at 18-years-old. It sucks, having to rely on my parents or Holly to drive."

"Maybe you'll get your license at your next test?" Andrea suggested.

Samantha shook her head. "I said that the last time, and the time before that, and I still failed. The worst thing is with Holly is that she is so sweet and nice, and I love her. If she was mean or spoiled, I wouldn't feel so bad about being so jealous of her. But because she's so nice, and has so many health problems, I feel so bad."

"Wow, I never would have guessed that in a million years," said Andrea.

"That's not even my worst secret," admitted Samantha. "I can't tell you that one."

"Come on, you've got me on the hook now," said Andrea. "It can't be that bad."

"You won't freak out, or tell?" Samantha implored.

"I promise I won't," said Andrea.

Samantha drew her breath, and Andrea could see she was nervous. "Do you like cute, good-looking guys?" Samantha asked. "You know, guys at school, on TV and at the mall?"

"Yes, of course," said Andrea. Maybe Samantha had been with a guy and felt bad about it? Andrea doubted it, but what else could she be getting at?

Samantha continued. "When you see a pretty girl with them, like their girlfriend, or an actress or co-host on TV, do you ever think that even though the guy is hot, the girl is way hotter?"

Andrea felt her heart racing. Did Samantha mean that she liked girls in a sexual way? Surely not? "What do you mean?" Andrea asked.

"It's kind of hard to explain," said Samantha. "About a month ago, had a dream about one of the cheerleaders at school naked and I woke up feeling all funny between my legs. My panties were wet through, and it had got into my pajamas too. It felt like my period, but way stickier." She suddenly looked all panicked. "I shouldn't have said anything. Sorry, forget what I just said."

Andrea put her arm on Samantha's shoulder. "Samantha, relax, I know exactly how you feel."

"You do?" asked Samantha. "You aren't just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No," said Andrea. "I like pretty girls even more than good looking guys."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," said Samantha, still unconvinced.

"I swear I'm not," said Andrea. "Samantha, do you ever pretend that you're out on a date with a girl, like a movie?"

"Um, yes," said Samantha.

"Do you ever think how great it would be to hold hands with a girl that you really like?" Andrea queried.

Samantha nodded. "Yes."

"Would you like to kiss a girl, and make out with her?"

"Yes, but please don't tell my parents or Holly."

"I'm not going to," said Andrea, gently stroking Samantha's hair. "Because I think exactly the same way. I like guys, but I like girls even better. I'd love to go out on dates with girls, hold hands with girls and kiss and make-out with girls."

"Wow," said Samantha, her eyes wide. "So, um, what should we do about it?"