Lies, Old and New

Good. It was a drop in the ocean compared to the mark he'd left on her so many years ago.

"Ungh, ungh... godddd...." Tami moaned as she felt the first rush of climax building. Bash felt it too--her gushing, contracting channel made sure of that--and, with a growl, he clasped her other thigh and lifted her bodily off the floor. Reflexively, she squeezed his waist and crossed her feet at the ankles, her curled toes bobbing to match the pistoning ass beneath them. "Fuuucckk!" Tami moaned as the tremors rattled her bones, and Bastian emptied himself into her in a way that brought a rush of memories through every inch of her flesh.

Memories that he was sharing with her. She knew that immediately when, with a kind of sweet incongruity, her lover gently carried her over to his desk, swept aside the detritus there, and laid her down so he could look into her eyes, all while still diamond-hard within her. Slowly, almost absently, Bastian began massaging the one, oversized breast that she'd managed to free before they'd begun, taking his time to relish the feel of it once more. Of her pebbled skin and hard little nipple. Of her warmth. Of the electricity of the touch between them. It was... it was...

"Kiss me, Bastian. Please, please kiss me."

Tami was abjectly begging, she knew that. She didn't care. He was with her once more, and he could have her any way he wanted. She gave him her body without hesitation, now she needed to show him that she'd keep going. Keep giving.

His lips on hers came right along with renewed thrusting... and that was it. Paradise gained after years of it being lost. Nothing else existed for either of them then.

Not even the thud of the office door closing.

__________

Jillian burst into the girl's locker room without even knowing which door she'd slammed through. A blind run is a blind run, and instinct was the only thing that gave her feet any kind of direction. By this time of day, she'd expected whatever hidey-hole she found to be empty--needed it to be empty--so seeing someone standing at the mirror, playing with her silky black hair... it was jarring.

Jarring, but not unwelcome.

"Drevin... you scared the life out of me! Why'd you slam that door?" Kristy Park whirled to face Jillian, taking her fingers out of her half-done pony tail while her surprisingly big tits bounced in her no-nonsense bra. The lissome Asian girl didn't seem to care that she was just standing there in her underwear, though that wasn't so weird. It was a locker room, after all, and the eighteen-year-old had done this countless times in her years at the academy. Still, she really was very much... out there.

"What are you still doing here?" Jillian ignored the girl's question and subtly tucked her chin while fixing her gaze on her classmate. She took a step. "Are you alone?"

"Track." Kristy shrugged. Kristy bounced. "And yeah, it's just me. I took longer in the post-stretch." She paused then, seeing something in Jillian's demeanor. "Hey, about the other day... I'm sorry. I deserved you shoving me. I don't know why I... I mean, we were friends for years. I shouldn't have listened to Amy when she said you keep staring at me like... uh, well... like you are now." Kristy shied back a bit as Jillian closed the distance between them. "What's... up?"

"Today's a day for doing the most fucked thing you can think of. That's what's up."

When Jillian's final lunge put her nose about an inch from the nonplussed runner's, Kristy's mouth went wide at the same time as her pretty eyes--prettiest in the school, Jillian had always thought--which was an opening that the purple-headed invader couldn't pass up. Her tongue in the other girl's mouth stifled a shocked squeak, but her fingers down Kristy's panties brought another right back up. By the time Jillian had her other hand inside the cup of her friend's bra, the noises her prey was making would almost have been funny... if anything could have been funny ever again.

If anything could have been good ever again.

She would settle for satisfying, though. Good enough.

Jillian fought against the pushing Kristy was doing on her shoulders, curling her fingers up inside the trembling teen's twat while rubbing that magical nub with her thumb. This was a first for both of them, but Jillian, at least, had done her homework. Maybe not to prepare for this, exactly... definitely not for this setting, at least... but she was as practiced as she could be without experience. By the sudden noodling of Kristy's arms--and backbone--Jillian could tell that she'd passed the test.

Time to graduate.

"Ooohhh holy shiiiitttt..." Kristy went from pushing on Jillian's shoulders to clinging to them for dear life. She'd managed to get her mouth free just enough to utter the breathy, moaning expletive, which actually brought a smile to Jillian's face for more than the obvious reason. Never heard miss prim swear in twelve years. Fuck yeah. She celebrated by popping one of the boobs she'd dreamed about for far too long into her wet mouth.

Kristy began shaking like she'd been thrown out into a blizzard. "What are... what are you doing to me... oh. Oh. Oh, oh, oh!" Over and over, the staccato syllables emerged, then melded into one, long wail. "Ohhhhhhh!" And with that, Kristy drenched Jillian's fingers, even as Jillian drenched her own panties.

Did I just fucking come from finger-banging another girl to orgasm? That was insane, but she couldn't deny the evidence when the thighs under her own tartan skirt glided together with almost no friction. Goddamn, that's awesome.

"Jill... Jill... you... you just..." The word... the accusation... about to come from Kristy was aborted by yet another tongue-lashing from Jillian. Still not an ounce of tenderness in it, but, by that point, Kristy was primed and didn't care. All she needed was to be led.

After a good five minutes of groping and tweaking and licking and nibbling and... well, on and on and on... Jillian lifted herself from the wooden bench on which her toy had ended up beneath her. With both young women panting and sweaty, and Kristy whimpering, Jillian eyed her conquest imperiously. "Hey, come by my house on Saturday. My dad will be out."

Not an offer. Not a suggestion. Kristy gulped, then nodded in understanding. When Jillian nodded back to seal the deal, then readjusted her uniform in preparation to leave, the puddled athlete managed to gurgle up one question. "Uh... and your mom?"

Jillian stopped moving, then shot a look over her shoulder. "I don't care. About any of them." She began walking.

They just take, so I'll take too.

__________

That Saturday, Jillian learned two things. First, and best, was that Kristy's legs spasmed like she was being electrocuted when she was flat on her back and having an orgasm.

The second was that her mom was absolutely terrible at conducting an affair.

That second little factoid was, tragically, very much stuck in her head that day, even while Kristy's perfect little nipple was very much stuck in her mouth.

"Haah. Ohhh shiiit..." Kristy, sweaty and still twitchy, was nonetheless collected enough, barely, to run her hands through Jillian's vivid hair in appreciation. For her part, Jillian had responded to that small tenderness with a bite--albeit a light one--on the meat of her classmate's nicely rounded boob, and a plunge of no less than three fingers into her partner's gash. "Jill! I... I'm still sensitive...!" Kristy moaned and tried pushing back, but, as in the locker room days earlier, it was pointless once her nerve endings were lit.

This is mine. Jillian worked her arm faster and harder under that flipped-up miniskirt, and Kristy's back bowed involuntarily, thrusting her bared tits up to roll deliciously across her chest. The girl could only grunt, almost pig-like, as this surprise climax robbed her of speech. When it was done, a good, good minute later, Jillian propped herself up to lock gazes with Kristy before bringing up her hand to take a long, slow drag of her tongue across her own slick fingers. Then she dipped her face down and did the same along Kristy's sweat-sheened skin; from her navel, up to her sternum, between her trembling breasts, and along the length of her neck, right to her ear, where she pursed her lips.

"You don't know what sensitive means, sexy. But I've got all day to teach you."

Kristy groaned, partially in excitement, but nearly equally in dread. It was then, though, that she found her voice. "Jill... what about your mom? When I came in, she just... ran out. Is she coming back soon?"

Jillian remembered. It was a scene burned into her; Kristy at the door, looking like a skittish fawn and wearing an outfit so salacious that she wondered if any neighbors were reporting them for hiring a prostitute... and her mom utterly oblivious to that while muttering some inanity to her daughter and scooting out of the house around what was obviously a girl showing up for sex. Every red flag in the world being ignored as easily as... well... as she'd ignored most everything all of Jillian's life.

Jillian looked down at Kristy, lip curled. The athlete let out a light eep in reply, then tried to push her head through the pillow beneath it. "I don't want you even thinking about my mom. No one should be thinking about my..." She stopped. "Forget it. I'll show you what I want from you. Get ready."

Kristy might not have gotten ready, but she got something. A lot of something, over and over for hours. The only fly in the ointment came when Jillian brought out one of her toys. Kristy, from some hidden depth, found her backbone then and refused, saying that they weren't going to have sex. Jillian briefly considered laying into the dizzy girl for being an idiot--what the fuck else had they been doing?--but settled for just laying her. Let her keep her illusions... it didn't matter. They'd disappear soon enough.

All illusions eventually did.

__________

Tami was lost, and she knew it. Her stable home, her stable husband, her decidedly unstable daughter... all pushed into a kind of background haze--rather, a new kind of background haze--as the weeks went by. Her... excursions after work were growing more frequent, and she found herself finding excuses to be 'late' coming home, though not invalid ones, honestly. After all, Jillian was having troubles at school, and a good mother would do what she could to address that. Meet with people that could help. Teachers. The Principal.

Other staff.

"Mrs. Drevin, this problem is becoming a crisis." Tami blinked at the shift in tone of... what was it again? Kapowski? The severe, statuesque blonde behind the foreboding desk was starting to sound more than a little impatient. "We gave Jillian a second chance, dropped her suspension to two days, but she doesn't seem to appreciate the reprieve." The Principal plucked up a sheaf of paper like she'd been itching to since the moment Tami had walked in for this meeting. "There have been... reports." She sighed. "Rumors, really, which is why I hope we can head things off before they become more."

"Rumors?" Tami frowned. "Are you seriously saying that my daughter's future is in jeopardy because of high school gossip?"

"They're credible rumors. Even I've seen... well, that's for me to address." For some reason, Miss... Tami took a quick glance at the nameplate on the desk... Kowalski licked her lips absently. Must have skipped lunch, or something. "In any event, you and your daughter need to have a heart-to-heart. Regulations keep me from voicing my suspicions unless, until, lines are seen being crossed."

"Lines?" Tami was very confused. "I mean... is she starting fights? I know she had a thing with that other girl, but I thought--"

"I'll be dealing with Kristy Park." Kowalski got that distracted look again for a second, her eyes unfocusing like she was seeing something that wasn't there. "You're better suited to see to your daughter's needs personally."

"I agree." Tami stood suddenly, taking the Principal by surprise. Apparently she hadn't expected the conversation to end this abruptly. "In fact, I have a meeting with Bas... Mister Baxter," she pretended to look at her wrist, remembered that she never wore a watch, and felt herself flush, "uh... like right now." She began moving towards the door like she was being pulled on a rope. "He knows Jillian, and together we're... we..." The flush became a full-on inferno across her skin. "...we're doing... it. Y'know... helping."

That was pretty much all the prudence Tami had in her, and if the other woman had a comment, or even a further thought, she had no idea, as she was out of that office and nearly sprinting towards the one she truly wanted to be in without a single look back.

It was only after Bastian had made her cum for the second time, and they'd settled into a slow, almost lazy fuck with her swaying gently in his lap atop his office's sofa, stuffed with his still-hard member, that Tami's head cleared enough to do the right thing.

"Ba... Bash." Tami almost giggled, using that nickname seemed kind of... naughty, in a way. "We need to talk."

The big man looked up to her face, peeling his pretty, pretty eyes from that combination of giant tits and narrow, toned core that she knew had always entranced him. "Yeah?" He gave one last upward thrust into his lover, then settled back down, letting her recover from her final, delicious little aftershock climax.

"Mmm... yeah." Tami took a deep breath--a very appreciated deep breath, from the hum of approval--and opened her eyes. "We need to make a plan."

__________

After the tenth circuit of tiptoeing past her father's office, the man finally looked up with a chuckle. "Okay Jillian. What do you need?"

Jesus, about time. She never felt quite free to just intrude on her dad, but she knew he'd pay attention to her if she was obvious enough that she needed him. Right then, she needed him bad. "Sorry, but, uh... can we talk?"

"One second... let me..." Chad tapped his chin and looked back at the monitor in front of him, clicked the mouse a couple times, then nodded once to himself. "Okay. Done." He looked back at his fidgety daughter. "I have a minute. What do you need, honey?"

For a panicked, nearly suicidal instant, Jillian actually considered blurting everything out.

I'm a lesbian.

The girl I was fucking ended it.

I'm pretty sure she's fucking the Principal now.

...your wife ruined...

She squeezed her eyes shut and took hold of herself. "Dad... have you, uh, been seeing anything weird about mom lately?"

"Weird? Honey, your mom's always been... different. We both know that. But she's trying her best." Chad shrugged a shoulder. "Every family has ups and downs, and, with you almost out of the house, maybe your mom is just, I dunno, feeling the years on her, or something like that." He smiled, though it did look a bit strained. "She loves you, you know that."

Do I? Jillian's lips puckered sourly. "Dad, you need to hear this. Mom and..." She gritted her teeth, then powered through. "She's been... bad."

As she continued this long-overdue conversation with her father, Jillian's heart went out to him. It wasn't his fault that he married what he married. A part of her wanted to sugar coat everything to try to soften the blow, but that was a small part. The biggest was what screamed out for justice, because if she was going to lose the thing that'd papered over her broken heart... then everyone's heart needed to be shredded right alongside. Fair was fucking fair, after all, and this evil, twisted world was not of her making.

She'd never asked to be in it, and the people who forced her to be were going to regret it.

­­­__________

"Is it him?"

Tami froze with her hand on the knob of the front door to her home. The tone in her husband's voice was... off. She looked at him over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes while he just stared back at her from his favorite recliner. "Is what who? Chad, I don't really have time for this. I gotta get to the school. Jillian keeps getting in trouble, and I need to talk to--"

"Is. It. Him?"

"Chad..."

"Eighteen years, Tami. Eighteen fucking years, and you still--"

"Yes." Tami turned face her husband fully. "Yes. Eighteen fucking years, and I still." She raised her chin. "I didn't even hesitate." She suddenly snapped her fingers. "Didn't waste one second."

Chad was trembling, and he shook his head in denial. Abruptly, he flung out his arm and swept it across in front of him. "Is this a joke? We built a life together, and you're going to throw it all away for some fucking on the sly?"

"I'm not--"

"Not what? Holy shit, did you actually think I'd put up with this? Did you think you could have some fun, let it run its course, then plead temporary insanity so I'd forgive and forget?"

Tami shook her own head then, and her perfectly-coifed golden hair danced around her head. She could see that her appearance--from the glamourous 'do, to the skin-tight blouse, and right on down to the thigh-high nylons under the side-slit pencil skirt--was like fuel to her husband's inferno. It was all coming in a rush that she hadn't been ready for, so all she could do was say, "Wow."

"Wow." Chad grunted. "A stupid word from a stupid slut."

It took a good few seconds for Tami to compose herself then. "I'm going. Right to him." She steadied her breathing. "I will always go to him. I don't care what you say. I don't care what you fucking do. Not now. Not ever."

Tami left her husband right there, sitting in that chair with the outraged bile choking his throat and stealing away any word he may have produced. Once she was past the door, she slammed it closed... then practically collapsed back against it, her legs suddenly weak.

"Holy hell, what am I doing? How can I make this work?" Her gaze rolled across the evening sky like the answer was up there somewhere. She turned her head to take in the illumination coming from behind the gauzy drapes at one of the windows like she was trying to see what she'd left behind back there. She took a long, shuddering breath. "How will I make it right?"

The sky didn't have answers. The window didn't have answers. Nothing did.

She did hear a crash and a bellow of rage issue from within her home, but it didn't stop her from getting in her car and peeling out hard enough to leave tire marks on her driveway.

__________

From her hidden spot around the corner to the dining room, Jillian watched her father confront her mother. The exchange was quick, which was probably good, seeing as how her fingers ached after only a few seconds of her death grip on the back of a chair. So, yeah... quick, but the furthest thing from painless. For anyone.

Except that psychopathic slut that her dad married.

"FUCKING WHORE!" Chad's enraged roar came right along with him picking up an end table and hurling it into the big picture that hung over the fireplace; the one with the fancy frame that showed the three of them smiling and happy. The one that was many, many years old... and now was a shattered, shredded ruin.

Goddamned fitting. Jillian, slowly, quietly, emerged from her shelter, inching towards her trembling father with her hand outstretched. "Dad... I just... I'm so..."

Chad whirled to face her, and his wide, wet eyes went flat. He watched her for a long, fraught moment, clenching his jaw so hard it was a wonder his teeth weren't cracking. Just when Jillian had worked up the nerve to try again to do what she could to help, all the life seemed to drain out of her dad, and he just fell into his chair, put his face in his hands, and shook his head over and over.