The Family Pet Ch. 01

'Thank you, madam. Do come back soon.'

Taylor winked devilishly. If it was possible, Amy turned an even deeper shade of red, attempted a smile and hurriedly exited the library. By the end, it was almost a little run. When she got to the door she threw on her hat, coat and scarf and headed out into the cold, running off into the snow. Running in snow ... big mistake. In her eagerness to get out of there and back to her dorm, she slipped and fell right on her backside. Miss Clumsy strikes again ... and she was meant to be a dancer for God's sake! The book went flying in the air and flapped open. She rolled over onto all fours when in the corner of her eye, she saw a little scrap of paper dance through the air. It must have been tucked between the pages, she thought. It landed softly on the snow and she handled it, where it read,

'Cute brunette,

That was really fun. Campus bar, 7o'clock tonight. Be there. Don't be late. Hope you like the reading.

Taylor xxx'

***

Taylor smiled looking at the photo, chuckling of the memory of how nervous and shy her Amy had been that day, that first day. And though she had turned her into a filthy whore now, who would drop to her knees and eat her at a moment's notice, she still retained that nervous submissive streak. It was why she loved her so much.

Karen looked at her mom hesitantly, not sure of her reaction. Her face had briefly clouded over her rage, a rage that was familiar throughout her childhood. Mom Taylor was the strict parent, the discipliner. Mom Amy was the pushover. When she was a little girl, if she wanted something she'd always go to Amy who'd normally cave into her daughter's demands. Taylor would normally come in and over-rule her however, with a face like thunder. She thought she recognised that face when it smashed, but as she looked at it fondly, a softness replaced the hard anger. She sniffed a little, nose running and this snapped Taylor back to life. She opened her arms out wide and pulled her daughter into a hug.

'Oh my sweet little Karen, what's wrong?'

Karen tried to hold it together but then her lip started to wobble and she couldn't hold it in any more. She let out a wail so loud, Amy could hear it in the shower, it probably woke the neighbours. Amy sighed as she scrubbed herself down. She hated to hear her daughter so upset. She would get out there as soon as she had showered. But then ...

A dark voice in her head told her that Taylor could probably handle it. She was a better mom than she ever had been, knowing when to listen and when to discipline. Karen just bossed herself around like she wasn't there .... Like mother, like daughter then. She could handle the crying for a few more minutes. Switching the shower onto maximum, she let the hot water cascade down her naked body. Her ass was still sore and burning, Taylor had really not let up. But she knew best not to challenge her Mistress. She never wanted to anyway. She poured out some shower lotion on her hand and massaged her sphincter, gently rubbing and soothing it but unmistakeably an erotic thrill was still bubbling under the surface. She had just been interrupted before even orgasming, after all. Her nipples were still poking out, that sexual rush that had been coursing through her body minute ago was only just subsiding. She could feel them, pointing out into her hand as she washed her breast. They had never been particularly big, a B-cup all her life, but at 39 years old, they were starting to sag a little.

This didn't bother her that much. She was getting older. Life happens. Life had happened. But she knew she had someone who loved her and cared for her and didn't care what she looked like. Sure, she missed her once toned and exceptionally fit body, back when she used to be a dancer ... but that that was eighteen years ago, before she'd had Karen.

*** December, 21, 1995 ... a little later that day ***

Amy stood before the mirror, poised on her right toe, trying to lift her leg up as straight as possible. Her face was screwed up in concentration. She hardly looked a peach in the mirror, but she looked determined and focussed ...until her right leg gave out and she fell dizzyingly backwards. She swore loudly. What was up with her today? She loved days like today when the gym would be empty and she could have the dance hall all to herself. She could plan and choreography whole routines, individual dances of course. By aged eighteen, she had become a very skilled and fluent dancer but always preferred to dance alone. She was not a team sports girl.

From a fairly young age, she had never got along that well with other girls. She wasn't a bitch or anything and didn't mind other girls so much. She had just never been able to connect with them, particularly once that train puberty rolled around. The chats about boys and make-up and fashion never really appealed to her. She always preferred the company of guys. That brought out some remarks from the other girls, now they were bitches, but she didn't really care. She just had more in common with them. She sometimes wondered how much she stereotyped her own sex but she didn't care particularly. Most women she knew were too feminine for her taste, but she had never been a girly girl particularly. Sure, she did ballet but she'd had little choice in that. Her strict mother had wheeled her up there at the age of 5, but unlike a few issues with her mother, she did not regret it all. As far as she was concerned, and millions of unsuccessful idiots had tried to dissuade her, it was a sport. Physically, it put her through her paces. She was extremely fit as a result, and was mentally strong as well after all the competitions she had been dragged to as child. In just her blue sports bra and leggings, her flat stomach was visible, her hard abs apparent.

But for all that, today she just could not handle it. Her poise was all wrong, her body was She couldn't stop thinking about her date tonight with the hot, seductive and dominant librarian from that morning. Even the thought of it, brought a little smile to her face. She, Amy, the tense freshman virgin, had a date tonight. With one of the hottest girls she had ever seen. She was a little dizzy just thinking about it. No wonder she couldn't pull of a 'penchee' pose.

She headed to the locker room, stripped off her sports bra and kicked off her leggings. She had worked up quite a sweat but shower here or back in her dorm in ten minutes? She would need to get ready for her big date actually. Wait, perhaps. She tugged out her change of clothes from the locker, just slipping into some standard cotton knickers and a matching plain white bra, some sweatpants and a plain-white tee, before zipping up her big parka and heading out into the cold again. It hadn't been a particularly productive session, but she had bigger things on her mind.

When she got back to her room ten minutes later, the time on her new digital alarm clock read '18:08'. Fuck, she only had half an hour or so to get ready before she'd had to leave. She looked again at the note that she had pinned down under the clock. She could almost hear it being read out in Taylor's voice.

'Campus bar, 7o'clock tonight. Be there. Don't be late.'

Reading it again sent a little shiver down her spine. But she didn't have long. She rushed to her en-suite, hit the shower to the max and quickly stripped. She hopped in and began to wash herself down, wanting to look and smell perfect tonight. She hopped straight out as soon as she could and wrapped a red towel around herself, and tousling her hair with another. The time now read, '18:17'. Double fuck. Being a little tomboyish, she could normally get ready in ten minutes flat, but tonight was different. Tonight was meant to be special. She dropped the towel and started scampering round the room in the nude, looking for things she needed. She darted from her drawers, pulling out a hair dryer to the other side of the wall with a plug socket, still naked, a comical sight if anyone had been lucky enough to see it. Meanwhile the minutes just ticked away. She looked at her dry hair in the mirror. It wasn't particularly smooth, but that would have to do, she could brush it later.

Dashing over to her clothes dresser and kneeling down, she heaved open her underwear drawer. Fuck, why did this girl have to ask her out on laundry day? A little notice might have been nice. She barely had anything and clean and what she did have none of it matched. But then she scolded herself mentally. Get a grip, Amy. You're only going for a drink. If you think she's gonna strip you down that far, you're probably daydreaming again. In the end, she pulled out a pair of pink cotton boyshorts which framed her ass well, and a yellow lace bra. She looked a little ridiculous but what the hell! Springing to the balls of her feet, she flung open her wardrobe. Time was really against her. Again, she cursed Taylor's short term planning. She might have been instant and spontaneous but Amy wasn't. She needed time and structure. Spontaneity was not her strong point and she certainly didn't have the wardrobe for it. She had nothing dazzling, never needing to own something like that before.

Flicking through the racks of what she had, she settled for what she'd always thought was a sexy, elegant, red chiffon blouse. It was low cut enough to show enough of her pale chest and the sleeves were loose and draped in the breeze. It was probably the most feminine thing she owned. With a nice pair of tight jeans to go with it, suddenly she was starting to feel a bit more pleased with her appearance.

Admiring herself in the mirror, she glimpsed the time on the clock. Triple fuck! It was '18:47' now. Where had the time gone? It would normally take fifteen minutes to get there without the snow. In her black skinny jeans and red top, she zipped up her parka again, put on her snowboots and headed out to the campus bar in a rush. It took over fifteen minutes in the perilous conditions, and Amy knew she was running late. Exactly what the note had told her not to. When she flung the door open and threw her big coat on the rack, there was no sign of Taylor anyway. As she had expected, the bar was practically empty, aside from some Chinese students drinking in the corner. They must have not been able to book flights back like her. But no Taylor.

Amy sidled over to the bar, and slumped down in a stool. Having rushed to get here, fearing being late, Taylor didn't even seem to be here. She looked over at the barmaid, a prettyish redhead around her mid-thirties probably. She didn't pay much attention to Amy, for the TV was on and she was more interested in that than her customers. Amy cleared her throat.

'Excuse me. Can I get a glass of whatever red wine you've got please?'

The barmaid paid no notice, didn't even seem to hear her. Confrontation was never Amy's strong suit. Maybe she hadn't heard her. She cleared her throat loudly again, when just then a firm hand gripped her shoulder and that New York voice that had rung like a bell in her head all day called out.

'Sarah. For fuck's sake, do your job. Get my friend here what she asked for.'

Amy turned happily to see Taylor standing tall next to her. She was glaring ominously at Sarah when Amy caught her eye, and her expression remained slightly hostile. Amy was a little taken aback.

'I thought I said don't be late.'

Amy froze, unable to read her cold blank face. Was she joking? It didn't seem so. Taylor turned away and leant on the bar.

'Well seeing as you were so late as I specifically instructed against, I think this round's on you isn't it... isn't it ...?'

She seemed to be hinting at something, which Amy was not quite sure of then it came to her. She hadn't even told her her name yet.

'Er .. Amy!'

'Nice to meet you Amy. So this round's on you?'

Amy didn't know what to say, but just nodded and mumbled some kind of agreement. At that, Taylor smirked.

'Great. I'll have a beer then. I'll meet you in the booth.'

And as it seemed like she had a habit of doing, she turned and walked off leaving Amy to pay for and collect the drinks. Sarah handed her a beer without even asking for it as if she knew the order before it was given, and did Amy detect a little hint of jealousy in her eyes? Maybe Taylor came here a lot. Not much of a drinker, Amy didn't get out much, preferring to sit and read at home. With her wine and Taylor's beer in one hand, she slowly walked over to the booth where Taylor was sitting idly, not wanting to spill the drinks. Taylor didn't get up though and just waited for Amy to slide into the booth. She handed her beer and looked into her eyes deploringly.

'I'm sorry for being late, I just ...'

Taylor took the beer and smiled encouragingly, the stern face gone, and indicating to the drink, she said, sipping.

'Look you made up for it, OK? Just don't be late next time.'

Amy's face flushed with relief while those 'next time' rung in her mind. Taylor was just how she had imagined her all day. Her hair, blonde and slightly curly, fell down to her shoulders. Her skin was slightly pale but it matched her blonde hair beautifully. She was wearing a brown stylishly cut leather jacket, with a white T-shirt underneath. Amy couldn't read the slogan on it, so stretched out was it by her blossoming chest and large breasts. She realised she had been staring at Taylor a little too long and took a sip of her drink, eyes looking at the ceiling but inevitably being drawn back to Taylor. It was she who broke the awkward silence.

'So did you get a chance to look at any of those poems I recommended this morning?'

'No, I didn't but thanks again. I've been at the gym all day.'

Taylor's face seemed to light up hearing this. She asked enthusiastically,

'Ah, you go to the gym. I could tell from that body you work out. Do you play sports there or something?'

Amy blushed at the compliment.

'Er ... not exactly. I do ballet and I was using the dance hall. It is a sport though.'

At this, Taylor arched her eyebrow quizzically.

'Ballet? A sport, really?'

She looked at Amy teasingly but she clearly was only playing and for the first time in her life when that annoying phrase had been aimed at her, it didn't bother her. Amy smiled and just ignored it. She had been nervous at the thought of a date, but talking to Taylor was pretty easy. She relaxed and said defiantly,

'Yes, it is!'

Taylor jokingly rolled her eyes and smiled widely at Amy, who beamed back.

'Well if you say so, I play volleyball myself. Now that's a proper sport.'

Amy wanting to return the compliment paid earlier gabbled something out.

'Oh, I could also tell from your body that you work out ... as well... oh God I'm sorry that was awful.'

Taylor laughed.

'It's fine. It was exactly what I just said. But it was cute. You're cute.'

'I'm sorry, it's just I've never been on a date before...'

She tailed off at the end, embarrassed and Taylor almost did a double take, awestruck.

'You've never been on a date before? Seriously?'

Seeing that Amy was looking a little hurt at this surprise, she quickly corrected herself.

'I mean, no that's fine, seriously. I just meant like ... well you're gorgeous, that's all. I'm surprised no-one's snapped you up before.'

Amy seemed a little better but was clearly a little uncomfortable, so Taylor quickly changed the subject

'So did you want those poems out for educational purposes or more for pleasure?'

There was a certain seductive emphasis placed on the last word which Amy couldn't work out if she loved or if it bothered her. Taylor was far more overtly sexual than anyone she had ever met, and much more than she could handle.

'Erm, well the Lovell I originally wanted to get out I had heard about in class. But yeah, those were ... um... more for pleasure.'

Taylor seemed amused by Amy's obvious embarrassment, but she found it endearing. Again, Amy found herself more able to relax.

'What do you study?'

'English Literature is my major.'

'Ah cool! I love to read. Do you enjoy it?'

'Yeah, I love it to be honest. I wouldn't normally be in a bar like this at this time, I'd normally be in bed with a book.'

'Well the guys are missing out', Taylor said winking at her. 'I know the feeling though. I do biology myself.'

'Oh, right. I was never a big fan of the sciences at school. What made you choose it?'

'I like understanding how things work. Natural systems are so complicated and ... they just fascinate me. I'm an expert in the human body. But I suppose you can get that from literature too. Some of those poems I recommended will inform you more about a body and what makes it fly than any textbook will.'

Was that innuendo too? Amy could not keep up.

'A biologist who became a librarian? How did that work out?'

'Well, I mainly do it for the bit of spare money, it comes in hand. And it's good for kissing hotties on the sixth floor, of course. Sorry, if I was a little forward this morning, I wouldn't normally chance it with a straight girl ... but the book was kinda a giveaway, and you were too hot to resist.'

Amy squirmed a little in her seat, before saying something that surprised Taylor.

'I'm not sure if I am a lesbian ... I'm a little confused.'

Taylor smirked and quickly retorted.

'Honey, this morning you were kissing a woman you'd never met before and now you're on a date with her. I think you're a lesbian.'

Amy opened her mouth to protest but just ...why fight it? She had always denied the obvious suggestions about her sexuality, always shut that part of her brain down. But the evidence was overwhelming and here she was, on a date with someone who clearly didn't care, who clearly knew and who clearly loved it. Loved it so much that just at that moment, she felt Taylor's stocking-clad toe run up Amy's jeans seductively. She opened her legs ever so slightly and said.

'Well, yeah, there's no point denying it I suppose.'

Taylor smiled and ran her toe up further, toying with her under the table, tantalisingly stroking her inner thigh. Amy didn't know what to do apart from keep her legs open and enjoy it. She relinquished all control to Taylor Those cute pink boyshorts were more than a little wet now.

'That's a really good attitude. I've been out for two years now, trust me it feels really good.'

'How did that go down?'

'Er ... I dunno, mixed I'd guess. I've known since I was like 8 or something stupid. Friends handled it really well. Some of them REALLY well, and we had some fun if you know what I mean. They were looking to experiment and I was more than a willing test dummy. Family ... meh ... they've never really accepted it that well. My mom denied it at first, but now she's slowly coming to terms with it, I think. It's the grandkids thing mainly.'

Amy tried to look supportive and caring, even though she had this girl's foot about an inch away from her dripping cunt.

'There's always options for that though, adoption or sperm donors. I think you're incredibly brave. I couldn't ... haven't done it yet. And at least being out you got some action right, not like me stuck in the closet?'

Taylor smiled back. For once today, she had looked a little unsure of herself and had felt it too just there. But Amy's comforting cheered her.

'Yeah, I get plenty of action', grinned Taylor as her toe now parted Amy's thighs further and began to stroke the outside of the pink fabric. She could feel the dampness already. Time to get her a lot wetter. 'You could say I've been around campus a few times.'

Just as Taylor's toe had begun to move upwards and pull the shorts down, it was quickly removed, much to Amy's disappointment, as Sarah the barmaid had come to collect their empties. When she leaned forward to collect the empty glass on the other side of the table, she seemed to be thrusting her ample bosom in Taylor's face but she just ignored her, clearly annoyed at the interruption. When Sarah spoke there was a slight bitter tone.