Bed of Rose's Ch. 01

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Two young women are reunited by coincidence.
9.2k words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/19/2022
Created 11/22/2004
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Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,659 Followers

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (or undecided), is entirely coincidental. The following story involves graphic descriptions of sexual encounters. If such things offend you, please read no further. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy the story.

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"This Bed of Rose's . . ." Part 1

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"Oh, fuck," she muttered as her fingers traced her vaginal lips. Rose was as turned on and looking for release. She was sitting in her traditional spot overlooking the college soccer fields, watching the girls' soccer team practice. Rose had realized back in high school that she was sexually attracted to girls, and she had a definite preference for athletes.

She had discovered this spot a while back. The university wasn't that far from where she lived, and was suitably overgrown so that no one down on the field without a set of binoculars had a chance in hell of seeing her. And she like to watch those girls play while she played with herself. She leaned back in her lawn chair, cupping one of her breasts while she fingered her pussy with her free hand. She would occasionally run the breast-hand down her rock-hard, sculpted body so to double the effort on her moist sex. She noticed the goalie was taking shots, and Rose redoubled the speed of her fingers.

You see, Rose REALLY liked the goalie. Her name was Charlotte Webb, which had gotten her teased quite a bit in high school because of the its association with the story and with an old Statler Brothers song. The two of them had sort of known each other back then. But Charlotte was the kind of girl that was supposed to leave town for an Ivy League school and a get a frat-boy boyfriend/husband-to-be and a degree in accounting after she graduated. It wasn't like the university she was going to wasn't prestigious, which in fact it was; it just didn't fit the story Rose had created in her head. The two girls had played on the soccer team together for a year, until Rose's "coming out" with the young English teacher caused problems with her for the other girls. Rose heard that Charlotte had actually stood up for her when no one else would. Rose had wanted to thank her, but she had transferred to another school so she wouldn't have to deal with the constant string of acidic attacks.

Thinking of Charlotte made Rose even more aroused. She slid her tight, well-worn jeans all the way down to her knees so she could work on of her fingers into her ass while teasing her clit with her thumb. She pinched one of her nipples, then the other, then started rubbing her mound, wishing it were Charlotte. Charlotte was one of those girls who was just intrinsically cute. She wore her medium length blonde hair up in pigtails all the time and her blue eyes sparkled underneath long lashes. She wasn't cut like Rose was; rather she had just a little of baby fat to fill out her very delectable curves. She definitely had some muscle there (as most soccer players did), but she still had a look of softness to her. She had a nice set of boobs and a lightly rounded but still firm butt.

Rose's fingers were working frantically towards the goal of achieving orgasm. All the girls but Charlotte had headed for the showers, and she was just doing a few last-minute stretches. The sight of her bending over and hugging her legs was enough to put Rose over the edge. When Rose achieved release, she did it with gusto. Her body tensed up and started shaking. She let out a series of low, gasping noises before her body arched itself in the final stages of her ecstasy. She sat back into her chair, letting the breeze roll over her sweaty body and waiting for her energy to recover a bit. She looked out onto the field, and Charlotte was still there. She had her stuff in hand, and actually seemed to be looking towards the hill where Rose was sitting. Rose didn't move. It was not likely she could be seen, much less identified from this distance through the terrain but she wasn't going to take any chances. Finally, Charlotte turned and headed back to join the other girls.

Rose quickly got dressed and headed back through the woods to her house. It wasn't much of a house, but it was hers. Her father had run off with a county-fair queen a number of years ago, while her mother had waited until Rose had turned eighteen before jumping in a big rig with a nice trucker she had just met and hadn't been heard from since. Apparently, whatever maternal instincts she might have had diminished when she found out her daughter was gay, and hence unlikely to find a rich husband who would support them both. That was almost two years ago.

The house (using the term "house" loosely) had been handed down to her father by his crazy father and by default to Rose. They had basically stuck a barn over a large basement and had attached a garage with an overhang next to it. The storm cellar was actually a very comfortable apartment, so that was where she actually lived. Her grandfather had converted it into a fully self-sufficient bomb shelter back in the 50's. It had its own shower, kitchen and phone line. And it was pretty much sound proof. You could get in by going down the concrete stairs at the side of the house or, when it was raining, using a spiral staircase that opened up into a closet in the house. Her grandfather had been paranoid, but Rose thought those stairs were really cool! The upstairs house was both her personal gym, with a punching bag and full weight set, and her office. After her mom took off, she needed to support herself. Her dad had left his tow-truck behind, so Rose had started working for a couple of repair-shops. Some of them were initially reluctant to work with a woman, particularly one as young as Rose, but her automotive knowledge impressed them into giving her a shot. The one thing her otherwise useless father had done was to teach her about cars. She had rebuilt her first engine when she was 13 years old, and she had never looked back. She had been a good student, but the sudden vanishing act of her support system had left her unable to attend regular college, so she took the tow-truck gig. Her goal was to eventually open her own garage, specializing in domestic cars. When she wasn't on call, she took classes from the community college on how to run a small business, and she picked up tips from some of the guys she worked for. It wasn't the glamorous life little girls dreamed of, but she got by.

Since the weather was nice that day, she took the quick route to the cellar through the outer doors. She needed to get cleaned up after her little "session" on the hill. She shirked her clothes and headed for the shower. She took a moment to look over her body to see if anything was getting flabby. It wasn't. She took great pride in her appearance. She had long been a workout fanatic, even back in middle school. She was five foot seven inches of lean muscle. She wasn't overbuilt like a professional bodybuilder, but she had clearly defined muscles in places where most people didn't know they had places. After she had gotten kicked off the soccer team, she had started taking boxing lessons at the community center, and took an immediate liking to the sport. She hit the heavy bag at least a half an hour every day, which helped keep her toned. And she liked being able to see the definition, so she had shaved almost all the hair from her body. All except her mohawk. She had naturally red hair that she had grown long until high school. At that point she had shaved both sides of her head, leaving a two-inch streak running straight down the center of her skull. Because the hair that remain was long and because she never used hair spray or anything like it, her hair almost resembled the mane of a horse, which was just fine with Rose. The end of it almost reached her belt-line. Her wardrobe consisted mostly of faded denim or leather pants and she had a bunch of single color, sleeveless cotton shirts. Her breasts were firm enough that she really never war bras, or underwear for that matter. The only clothes she actually took pride in were her biker boots and a long leather duster that ended right above her ankles, which she had inherited from her grandfather. But she only took that out for special occasions, like when she was looking for some action.

Action had not come to her often. It wasn't that she was unattractive. Even with the haircut and her style of dress, most people thought she was quite a looker. But she had developed a somewhat distrustful attitude towards the world, which is why her isolated life didn't seem that bad to her. She would occasionally bed some well-built but dumb-as-a-post trailer park wife who was looking to spice up her meaningless existence by having a bisexual fling with a bad girl like Rose, but they never meant much to her. She was content to have her periodic affairs and her afternoons on the hill overlooking the soccer fields. And she had a lot of toys she used when she was at home.

She was on call in the evenings that week. School was letting out, so students who had abused their cars all semester were trying to get out of town and their overloaded vehicles were always breaking down. She made pretty good money that week. Enough to pay the bills, put food on the table, and put a little away in her savings account. Someday, she was going to open that garage.

On the last day of her workweek, she was headed home when she got a call. While normally she would ignore it, it was raining hard and the thought of someone being stranded out there in the rain bothered her just a bit. The caller had reported a street name that wasn't far at all from her house, which is why they had called her. It didn't take her long to find the vehicle. It was one of those cute little new Volkswagen Beetle convertibles. Call her a purist, but Rose liked the older ones better. She backed up to the front of the car and grabbed her cheap umbrella and made her way out into the storm. She knocked on the driver's window. When the window rolled down, Rose found herself looking at cute blonde girl with very distinct pigtails.

"Rose? Rose McGuire?"

"Ch . . . Charlotte?"

"Holy shit! It's been forever!" The blonde girl lunged through window and gave Rose a breathtaking hug.

"Hi . . .breath . . .crushing umbrella . . . getting wet."

"Oh, sorry!" Charlotte withdrew into her car. Rose felt her heart beating awfully fast. "You're the tow? That is so cool!"

Weird. Charlotte didn't actually sound sarcastic or condescending when she said that. But she had always been a bit bubbly.

"Yeah. So what happened?"

"When?"

Rose chuckled. "With your car."

"Oh, that. I don't know. The lights started dimming, including the headlights, so I pulled over. The car stalled, and I couldn't start it again."

"Well, could be battery problems, but I can't really look at it out here. I could tow you back to the house where I've got a garage. It's just down the road, so I wouldn't even have to charge you."

"That would be so cool! Do I just sit here?"

"Nah. You're supposed to sit up with the driver."

"Cool!" she said again. "We can catch up." She grabbed her purse and rolled up her window. Rose felt a pang of regret at that. Charlotte was wearing a low cut shirt underneath her fashionable jacket, and Rose had enjoyed the view. When the door opened, she held the umbrella over it so Charlotte could mostly avoid getting wet. Once her passenger was inside the truck, Rose got very drenched hooking the little car up before climbing in herself.

"I REALLY hate the rain."

"I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"No trouble. Just my job."

Once back at her little garage, she lowered the Beetle and had Charlotte pop the hood. Both of the battery cables were loose, and one wasn't even touching the battery. There was some other loose wiring, but it only took her a few minutes to get everything straightened up.

"There you go. Whoever installed your battery or mucked with it last probably just didn't tighten everything up enough. You should be good to go."

"Excellent! How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it. You were literally on my way home, and it took me all of two minutes to fix everything."

"Thank you. You are SO wonderful!" She paused. "Man, it is really beginning to pour out there!"

She was right. The rain had turned it up a notch. Rose half expected an ark laden with two of every animal to come drifting into view.

"Listen, if you want to hang out for a bit until this calms down, you're welcome to. We could just chill . . ."

"Great. I'd love to! Just let me call my folks and let ‘em know I'm running late. Yes, I still live with my parents. But I got to move into the pool house, so at least I have SOME privacy." She pulled out her cell phone and wandered towards the house. Rose enjoyed watching her butt move. She was wearing a fairly short skirt that didn't even make it halfway to her knees. "O.k. Thanks again for the offer. My mom said that a lot of the roads are flooded anyway, so she'd rather I wait it out."

"Cool," said Rose, trying to sound nonchalant. Privately, she was thinking how weird it was. Just a week ago, she had masturbated while thinking of this girl, now here she was. She led Charlotte into the house. Charlotte looked perplexed by the lack of furnishings. Rose tried to put her at ease. "This is my gym. And sometimes my office. I live downstairs."

"Downstairs?"

"Check this out. I think it's cool." Rose opened the door to what Charlotte thought was a closet and revealed a winding staircase. They descended into the basement, which was a little less sparse. Rose had a huge, king-sized bed that wasn't made. The comforter was black, while the sheets were red satin. She had a plush red sofa, a large comfortable looking rug (with a picture of the signs of the zodiac on it) covering the concrete floor, and various other accoutrements one might expect.

"I love your house!" Charlotte practically shouted. "Or should I say your lair!" She grinned. Rose smiled back. Smiling felt strange to Rose. She didn't remember doing that much of it for a while.

The two girls talked for hours. Charlotte talked about her university experiences thusfar, her courses, her soccer stories, and her dreams of becoming a doctor. Rose talked about the history of the house, her business ambitions, her workout routines, and some unusual things she had found under the hoods of cars she had towed. There seemed to be no end to the amount of laughter the blonde girl could produce. And the fact that she leaned forward and put her sizeable tits on display whenever she was listening intently didn't hurt matters either.

Unfortunately, the rain died down noticeably. Charlotte looked up the stairs. "Well . . . I guess I'd better get going while I've got a break in the weather." She sounded a little disappointed.

"Yeah. Listen, it was great talking with you again." And she meant it. Her isolation was mostly self-imposed, but she found it was nice to have at least one person to talk to.

"Hey, mind if I drop by again? I'm not doing summer school, so I've got some time to kill. If you're not too busy."

"No, that'd be great. I work evenings next week, but I start a month of morning shifts the week after. Besides that, I'll be around." Rose escorted Charlotte up to her car, and waved pensively as she drove away. Rose wondered if she would actually see the other girl again. She went inside and pleasured herself, all the while thinking of a blonde-haired girl with pigtails.

She didn't have to worry. Charlotte dropped by several times a week for several weeks. Rose still enjoyed her quiet moments alone, but her friend's visits gave her life a little sense of balance. And with the weather warming up, Charlotte's clothing was getting smaller. The girl seemed to enjoy short shorts and skirts, as well as tight, low-cut shirts and blouses. Sometimes they would go out for dinner, sometime they would eat in. Rose showed Charlotte how to hit the punching bag without breaking her wrist and Charlotte brought tapes of some of her team's away games. And after every visit, Rose would go back to her room, break out one of her many sex toys, and masturbate to images of Charlotte.

One evening, Charlotte was over and had been there for a while. It had started raining again, giving the two unlikely friends more time to talk. Rose was sitting on the sofa drinking hot chocolate when Charlotte sat down fairly close to her and propped her legs up on Rose's knees. Rose finally worked up the nerve to say something she'd meant to say years ago.

"Hey. Got a question for you. Remember when I got kicked off the team back in high school?"

"Yeah." Rose noted some disdain in her voice.

"Well, I heard you actually stood up for me."

"Fat lot of good it did. What a bunch of narrow-minded . . ."

"It was nice that you tried, though."

Charlotte stood up. "I didn't do what I should have done." She put her cup on the counter and wandered into the bathroom.

"What do you mean?"

"It's easy to stand up for what's right after the fact if you're not really risking anything. They gave you the boot because you're gay, right?"

"Yeah. And for having sex with a teacher, but . . ." It was strange hearing it said out loud.

"Well, I should have told them if they kicked you off for being a lesbian, they needed to kick me off too."

Rose froze. Her cup was at her lips, and she found herself staring blankly forward. "Come again?"

"Well actually, I haven't cum the first time, but we'll see how this goes." Charlotte came out of the bathroom clad only in a shirt, which was unbuttoned all the way. Rose could see the inside of her cleavage bouncing between the gap in the cloth, as well as her neatly trimmed pubic region. "You see," she continued, "after hearing about you and the teacher and after you got kicked off the squad, I stuck up for you because I was hoping they might accept me too. If I came out of the closet, I mean."

"You're serious? You? Gay?"

"I guessed you hadn't figured that out yet. That's why I decided to make the first move. I figured you had to be at partially interested, the way you're staring at my tits all the time. I just want you to know before you say anything that I'll be crushed but understanding if you turn me down . . ."

Initially, Rose wasn't sure if this was all a joke or a dream or what, but she was face to pelvis with a girl she had fantasized about, and she had made up her mind already. When Charlotte got close enough, Rose leaned forward, reached under the other girl's shirt and grabbed both of her wonderful, round butt cheeks. Charlotte's skin lit up with goose bumps almost instantly.

"So, you're not saying no then?"

Rose looked up and saw genuine worry disappearing from Charlotte's face. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you." She pulled the girl forward so that Charlotte was standing on the sofa, her moist sex just inches from Rose's face. Rose lifted her head a bit and began to lick.

She wasn't sure how many partners Charlotte had been with, because the blonde girl was reacting to the most basic of Rose's oral skills. She started by just flicking the different parts of Charlotte's nether region at random spots, seeing what was the most sensitive. She darted in the direction of her asshole a few times, which made Charlotte freeze-up noticeably. Not everyone was into that sort of thing, which Rose respected. Besides, she had plenty of other delicious spots to work with. She buried her face in Charlotte's crotch, pushing her tongue as deep in as it could go. For her part, the other girl was beginning to grind her pussy as hard as possible against Rose's face. Rose brought her fingers into play, sticking two of them into Charlotte's pussy while rubbing her clit with the thumb. Charlotte was also becoming painfully aware of the tightness of her jeans and the quickly growing dampness of her crotch. She struggled with the buttons with her free hand, determined not to divert any more attention than necessary from the task at her lips. Finally she was able to fit her hand and start fingering herself, relieving some of the pressure.

Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,659 Followers