Kitten Ch. 01

Marlie's bedside lamp was still on, but she was sleeping. Catherine turned it off and found the other bed, the first time they hadn't slept together. She lay down, finding it lonely to be alone in bed as she wondered about it all.

She, the girl who had hardly really kissed a boy - much less another girl - had slept with another girl - done everything they could together - and now "slept" with her brother - not yet everything they could do together, but she wanted to. Everything? She would have let him. Would she want to do what his sister had done - his willie in her mouth, that taste? Would he - would they both - expect her to? It had seemed so big in her hand, not when he had been on the bidet and when they had embraced each other. But if Marlie liked that, if all French girls did - if they all did? - Pierre must really like it. Didn't she owe it to him for how good he had done it to her? She did, and didn't want him to think that she was the prudish American girl she had thought she was. She did want to do it. She fell asleep, wondering what it would feel like in her mouth with the mental image of how it had been in her hand, its head so full and round, and then shooting out like it had.

Later in the night, she woke up from a dream. It had been in her mouth, she had felt that it was, but then it melted away, her tongue still trying to find it. Yes, she really wanted to, and wanted to feel how it felt when it did that, despite the taste. In her dream, she had been looking forward to that.