Naomi

I'd say the past week has been hell, but I think even Lucifer hadn't thought up anything for his condemned as miserable and depressing as how I feel right now. First, just when my stupid head is straight, after a year of yo yoing around... Emily has gone and found someone else...and Effy Stonem at that. How am I supposed to compete with that sort of opposition? I mean, I never even knew la Stonem swung that way. Last year she spent all her time only jumping off Cook's technicolour dick just to sink down on Freddies. No wonder they both got Chlamydia in the holiday, for fucks sake, she hardly dried off one erection before swallowing the next...

And now she's fucking bisexual, or something? Thats like, my worst nightmare. The fittest girl in college bar none, decides to try out fanny, and Emily is her preferred dyke of choice?

I was just getting my head around them kissing in the car park, which reduced my brain to jellied mush when Emily follows up by giving me a brutal volley behind the gym, before telling me her and Stonem are now an actual item.

And the icing on the cake? Cook, the rotten fucker, sidles up to me between lessons that afternoon, and tells me Emily and Effy were heard noisily shagging in the disabled toilet at lunchtime. Normally I would have dismissed his lewd whispers as just another Cook wish fulfillment exercise. Last year, I lost count of the times he either asked me and Ems (Oh, and didn't that burn, when she told me only her friends could call her that) for a threesome, or for photos of us two going at it. Fucking creep.

But JJ nodded his head sadly when he heard Cook goading me. Fuck, even though I never really took to Jeremiah Jones, especially when I found out Emily had given him a pity shag, I knew he was basically honest. My lunch revisited my mouth, and I had to rush to the girls toilets to throw up.

Fate never gives you a fucking break though, does it? After I was done disposing of my sandwich down the loo, washing my mouth out with clean water at the sink afterwards, in saunters Effy fucking Stonem, with a face which clearly said, "I got the girl, deal with it"

She moved to the mirror and touched up her smoky eye makeup. Fucking bitch never has to try much, I thought, reaching to the floor to pick up my bag. I wanted to make my escape with a tiny shred of dignity remaining.

Fat chance.

"The answers yes" she smirked, with that fucking annoying cryptic tone she had by default.

"To what?" I said flatly, trying not to give anything away. I might as well have a bandana with "I still love Emily Fitch" on my forehead for all the good my feigned ignorance did.

"Yes I'm sleeping with her...but also... yes she still loves you..."

I hadn't asked either question, but the answers she offered without prompting had the desired effect. I felt elated and nauseous at the same time.

"Why are you torturing me Effy?" I said, hating myself for carrying on a conversation I didn't even want to have in the first place. I fucking knew she was sleeping with Emily...Cook's lurid description of the noises coming out of the toilets earlier was plenty graphic enough for me. I didn't need confirmation from the recipient of Emily's no doubt impressive talents.

"I'm not" she snorted "First, its a fact that I'm sleeping with your ex... And second, its another fact that she still loves you. The first you can't do much about. Emily's not ready to forgive you...and I'm discovering a lot about her that makes me want this to go on for a while longer...she's a fucking tiger in bed, isn't she"

I almost threw up again. Emily a tiger in bed? We'd only properly slept together twice, and both times ended up with me either running out on her or pissing her off so much she walked out on me. The other times were heated fumbles, when I was drunk enough not to care who saw where her hands were wandering. Poor Emily must have had a severe case of lesbian blue balls quite a few times. My face burned in shame at the way I'd behaved last year. And now Effy Stonem, who didn't even do embarrassed, was making out with Emily wherever and whenever she liked. It hurt like a bitch. And it was all my fault.

"She doesn't love me...she hates me" I mumbled. That row behind the gym was still painfully vivid in my mind.

"Oh dear, Naoms" Effy breezed "You don't really DO emotions, do you? Of course she still loves you. Are you that dim that you don't get that...even now? She just doesn't LIKE you very much at the moment. But you can't switch off something like that overnight. Me and Ems...we're just having some sexy fun. She fell hard for you last year...you fucked her over and deserted her..and now she needs time to heal. But I'm not gonna make it easy for you either. She's fun, attractive and hot as hell. So in the meantime, while she's working out if you're worth another try...me and her...we're going to enjoy ourselves. Its up to you what happens afterwards"

Thats definitely the most I have ever heard Elizabeth Stonem say in one go.

"Thats supposed to make me feel good, is it? Knowing you and her will be at it like rabbits until she decides I'm still 'it' for her...a bit cold blooded, even for you, Stonem?" I snarled.

"Your problem" she shrugged. "If you can't hack it...there are plenty of hot dykes in Bristol who would love to take my place in Emily's bed. Like I said...up to you Naoms...see ya"

And with that, she swept out of the toilets, leaving me staring into the space she had just vacated.

XXX

So there I was, a week later, standing in a corner of a club bar, trying to be inconspicuous, while Emily and Effy grind against each other on the dance floor. And this isn't the first time I've tortured myself like this. Its the third time this week.

Each time, same story. I tour the bars for hours, drinking steadily, until I find them. It isn't difficult. Usually a small crowd of horny guys and jealous girls show me where they are. I hide out in a corner of the bar, watching them get closer. Lips nuzzling necks, hands wandering over arses and brushing tits. I can't look away, even though it makes my stomach roll. Eventually, when the tears burn my eyes so I can't see properly any more, I stagger away from the scene of the crime. I make my way home, sobbing quietly and fall into my bed, only to stare at the ceiling and torture myself some more all night.

School days are just as bad. The longing looks I used to get from those brown eyes are now pointed away from me. Effys sultry return looks often lead to a strange, sudden need for both of them to visit the toilets at the same time. I squirm in my seat until they come back, laughing. Usually, there's a brief touch of their fingertips before they sit down. It doesn't take a genius to work out what they've been up to.

To be honest I think I might be about to go insane, if this goes on much longer.

It all seemed so simple when I was in Cyprus. I did my thinking. I wanted Emily, and I knew I had the courage now to show her I did. And then there was Sasha.

She was older than me...ten years at least. On holiday in the chalet next door with her sister Linda. They were from Leeds, having a break from their husbands on a girls only holiday.

Her sister was short, blonde and a bit shrewish looking. She disappeared most days after a Greek waiter chatted her up in a bar downtown the first night they arrived. Sasha came over when I was sunbathing by the pool. It was early afternoon, and the other guests in this little complex were out and about, leaving the small square of bungalows surrounding the pool deserted.

We chatted about something and nothing, and then I noticed that behind her sunglasses, she was definitely checking me out. With only the shy Emily Fitch as a reference point, I wasn't exactly Miss Gaydar, but Sasha wasn't being too subtle about it, her eyes were raking my tits and legs while she talked. I licked my lips and she smirked at my response.

Long story shortened. I flirted back...she put a smooth hand on my bare thigh and stroked it, like a physical question mark, and I smiled up at her from behind my own sunglasses. Deal done. If I'd have known it was that easy, I'd have had a much easier time last year.

Ten minutes later, I was naked and panting under a twenty something Leeds housewife who knew exactly what to do with a willing woman. It was glorious. She was inventive, considerate and much more experienced than me. After her fingers and tongue had brought me to an explosive climax, I flipped her over and duplicated her efforts. It was all so...easy.

She was my height, dark haired, blue eyed and deliciously voluptuous. Everything a budding dyke could ask for.

After the first time, we swam in the deserted pool for half an hour still naked. When I finally dragged myself up onto the side, she swam over and spread my legs, looking up at me cheekily. She licked me to another shattering orgasm, before I even remembered that someone could come back at any moment.

Giggling, I dragged her out of the water, back to my chalet. I made love to her with shaking fingers. She held my face in her hands, gasping her way prettily through her own orgasm. It was a stunning sight, watching her eyes roll as she lost it. It was such a rush, knowing I could do this to a woman.

I remember thinking briefly what a complete fool I had been to deny my sexuality before. I fucking adored this...sex with another woman. The softness of her lips, her sensual tongue..her big round tits, tipped with nipples which reacted instantly to my fingers or lips...the sweet, cloying wetness between her legs...the way her hips rolled and bucked when I entered her...the way she groaned and scrabbled fingers in my hair when I slid my tongue against her erect clit. I delighted in making her lose control.

I don't know how many times we fucked that afternoon and evening. I just know it was dawn before we exhausted ourselves. We spent the remaining days of my holiday sneaking an hour here, an afternoon there. It wasn't love...it wasn't even close to the way I felt about Emily. It was just wall to wall glorious sex. And it changed everything I knew and everything I wanted..

But it looked like it was all going to be for nothing now. Emily had hardly glanced my way since she finished yelling at me, and Effy just smirked irritatingly as always. I started to feel invisible again, just like I had last year, before a certain petite brunette started to play with my heart strings. Naomi Campbell, loner, loser, fraud.

And then something happened. Just when the lonely days and the tortured trips to clubs to see Emily making out with someone who wasn't me seemed to be driving me towards a complete breakdown, things changed. Not because of anything I did...not because of anything Effy or Emily did. Because a variable I had never considered entered the equation.

Mollie.

Who's fucking Mollie, I hear you asking? Well Mollie Douglas, to give her full name, exploded onto the Roundview scene without warning one crisp autumn morning.

First, she is American. Tall, slim to the point of skinniness and naturally blonde, with grey eyes and cute freckles. Her father is in the US Air force, and they had just moved over here with his unit from Germany. Second, she was as outgoing as I was introverted. She arrived this autumn morning, with a nervous Doug in tow and was introduced to the class as an exchange student. And guess where she sat? Yup. Next to me...Billy no mates. Mainly because it was the only vacant seat...seeing as how I was being ostracized by the people formerly known as my friends. Cook only hung around on the off chance of seeing my tits or getting my lips round his hard on. JJ was still scared of me on account of him shagging Emily. Freddie ignored me, because we had never been close anyway, and because he spent most of the lessons staring at Effy as she flirted with Emily. Katie hated me on general principle, but especially now she had a reason too. If Emily disliked me...that was good enough for the older twin. And Pandora was Effy's best friend...I was excluded by default.

But Mollie knew nothing about us band of vagabonds, or our messy history. She was new, attractive and endlessly chatty. Before the first Politics lesson was over, we were talking and swapping stories like old friends. I spent the lunch break with her on the sports field. Sitting side by side under a tree at the edge of the football pitch. She laughed at my jokes, my accent and my sarcasm. I laughed at her fearlessness (Cook tried his usual pick up lines, until she fixed him with a withering stare before giving him the silent finger) her sense of humour and her infectious enthusiasm for just about everything.

I know its a cliche, but we just clicked. We both hated politicians, but wanted to change the world anyway, we liked peanut butter (she thought my English crunchy peanut butter sandwiches were 'cute') the Arctic Monkeys and even my secret passion for miniature frog ornaments.

By close of play, we were behaving like real friends. I hardly noticed the time passing. I found out she was staying in a rented house about half a mile from my own in Alfred Road. I walked with her to the end of her road and promised to give her a call later. It was Friday, and for the first time in what seemed centuries, I was actually looking forward to a weekend...

We spent Saturday morning shopping for clothes. I hadn't gone out on the Friday night, so I was spared my usual lonely vigil in some dingy club, watching Emily get off her face and virtually screw Effy on the dance floor. I'm not saying it didn't cross my mind to go out, but a mini text war with Molly passed an hour or so, and by the time I would normally be drinking the dregs of a half bottle of vodka, prior to hunting the happy couple down, I was too pissed and comfortable to get dressed and go out. So I had an early night, woke up hangover free for the first time in weeks, and after showering, went to meet Molly in town.

I bought some new jeans, a couple of tops and a new bra. Molly shopped like a pro, spent a fortune and we ended up in an upmarket cafe, drinking mocha's and gossiping about the people I knew and she didn't.

I gave her a potted history of last years events, only leaving out the most painful bits. She smiled in the right places, winced in others. I found myself admitting to being gay (she shrugged) and to breaking Emily's heart and then my own (she uttered sympathetic noises for both of us)

Finally, I managed to turn the conversation to her previous life.

"Oh, the usual Air Force brat shit" she giggled "Pop is on the move every two years. I just get settled, find a nice girl and wham...we're off again"

Well, that was a show stopper...a nice girl?

She saw my expression and winced at her inadvertent admission.

"Whoops" she shrugged.

"So...you're gay too Molly?" I said after the first awkward pause we had endured since we met.

"Bi...":she said nonchalantly "Tried both...quite like both. Why should a healthy 18 year old go without trying it all? Most times, I prefer girls...softer, better kissers...more emotional. But occasionally, especially when my old friends JD or JB are in town, its kinda stimulating to have a good old fashioned hard screw against a wall"

I must have looked a picture with my mouth open, because she giggled again.

"Don't tell me you're a fucking Gold Star?" she laughed

"Gold Star?" I asked "What the fuck is that?"

She smirked and sucked her middle finger in a kind of mock fellatio.

"Never had a dick inside" she chuckled.

"Oh..."I blushed "Well, then I'm definitely not a gold star. I tried it like you did, but it was either over before I knew it, or it was so boring, looking up at the ceiling while they bang away, I get fed up and finish the job myself"

This time we both laughed. The tension was gone again.

Then she leaned closer and stage whispered in my ear.

"I guess we're gonna have to further your education then Naomi"

"Right" I said, shivering slightly at her proximity and the sensation of her warm, coffee flavoured breath on my ear.

"There's just one thing though" she said quietly "Who is that fucking girl outside giving me evil looks?"

I turned quickly to see the departing back of someone I knew very well...very well indeed.

XXX

So...its been a week since Mollie arrived. We've settled into a pleasant routine. I meet her on the way to college. We share a coffee shop mocha on the steps if it isn't raining, and separate at the lobby. Lunchtimes, we have our sandwiches in the field behind the gym, or in the cafeteria if its wet. After college, we either go somewhere together, like the library or an exhibition (she likes modern art, which I think is a load of Jackson Pollocks, but whatever) and we text and phone each other a lot. She's not my lover, although she's definitely hot. Neither of us want or need that at the moment. She wants someone to help her make sense of Bristol and the strange British way of life. I wanted, no I needed someone to talk to, to just be with without expectations or pressure. It just kinda works for us.

I've not been out drinking or clubbing since Mollie arrived. There has just been a mountain of other stuff to do. And that means, apart from the welcome break in routine for my hammered liver, that I haven't spent any evenings recently hiding in the corner of a bar, while Effy paws Emily on the dance floor. Its been a relief, to be honest. I knew, whilst I was doing it, that I was just indulging in masochistic punishment for my behaviour last year, but it was like an addiction, I couldn't stop. They probably didn't even notice I was there. So Mollie has been good for me.

And then there's the strange effect Mollie's appearance has had on Emily. Two days after she saw us through the window of that cafe, I saw her in the corridor between classes. Up till then, even when I was still trying pathetically to talk to her, she had avoided even catching my eye. We were like two total strangers, unaware of each others existence. It hurt every time she deliberately turned her head away, or laughed too loud at someones joke. It was as if I had ceased to be.

But this morning, I saw her eyes widen as I came out of my English Lit class. I prepared myself for another snub, looking down at my books as if they had suddenly become riveting material. I was shocked when I looked up, expecting to see her back disappearing down the busy corridor. Instead, she was standing in front of me, with a look on her face I couldn't interpret.

"Naomi..." she said quietly.

I had no idea whether that was a statement or a question.

"Emily" I said.

She just nodded and walked by, ducking her head.

I caught a whiff of strawberries and vanilla. That sweet, but not cloying aroma which I always used to call the 'Emily' scent. Indefinable, but irresistible.

My heart jumped then. She'd spoken to me. I had a second to register that she didn't exactly look her best, before she disappeared from sight. Her eyes looked tired and her skin was paler than usual. My normal instinct to feel protective was tempered by the certainty that her exhaustion was caused by 6 days a week clubbing with Effy, no doubt laced with wall to wall rampant sex.

The next day, she did it again, this time as I came out of the cafeteria with Mollie. My friend had laced her arm through mine. Not possessively. It was just Mollie...tactile in all things. I saw Emily's eyes narrow when she spotted the linked arms, but she smothered the tiny moue of annoyance, and smiled thinly instead.

"Naomi" she said, looking directly at me this time.

"Hi Ems" I replied, before wincing. Ems is for friends, idiot, remember? I scolded myself.

But the small twist of her lips told me I had got away with it. Again she nodded quickly before retreating.

"So..."Mollie grinned "Looks like the ice is melting hun..."

"Fuck off" I grinned amiably "She probably just wants us to be distant friends now. She's still loved up with the Party Queen, remember"

Mollie stopped me with a tug of my elbow as I tried to walk away. We'd had a couple (OK, several) in depth discussions about the disaster formerly known as my love life, and I knew bullshit didn't work with her. She'd told me to let the dust settle, wait for the thing with Effy to run its course and then move in for the kill. Trouble is, that was advice that was very difficult to take. It still hurt a lot when I saw Effy whisper something in Emily's ear in class to make her laugh, or take her hand as they left college in the afternoon.

"The way she just looked at you Naoms, is not the way you look at someone you just want to nod to in the street occasionally. She's still got the major hots for you. I think maybe Emily is having second thoughts, now you've got a hot American dyke as a new BFF"

Part of me thrilled with that advice. But the normal Campbell negative thoughts soon took over.

"Yeah, right" I said dismissively "Won't stop her shagging Effy fucking Stonem tonight, will it?"

"Probably not" Mollie shrugged, not being prone to sugar coating "But its a start, huh? Maybe you should do some shagging of your own, you know...while you're waiting?"

Her infectious grin made me laugh out loud at that observation. I swear I thought my vagina was healing up. Since I'd got back, and Emily had dropped her bombshell on me, I almost turned asexual. All my thoughts about sex had been tuned into Emily Fitch for so long, I had no idea how to stimulate myself any other way.

Sasha had been a pleasant and exciting distraction in Cyprus, but apart from that...nada.

I don't even remember how long it had been since I last masturbated. I'm a healthy 18 year old, and ever since I discovered what that little button did, I'd never stinted myself in the self pleasure department. Three, four, even 5 times a week (a whole lot more once I met Emily Fitch) was normal. Now, I had to rack my brains to remember the last time I'd indulged. Fuck, it was ages...

"You offering?" I giggled, hoping and fearing the answer in equal measure. I thought Mollie was hot, but she'd been a better friend to me than any of my so called mates from last year. I didn't want to spoil it for a quick mercy fuck.

"Naah" she chuckled "Not that I don't think you're hot babe...fucking excellent tits...but we wouldn't work. Too different...too similar. In any case, I think your hearts taken, isn't it?"

Bollocks, I thought. She's right. Mollie was as fit as fuck, but shagging her just wouldn't feel right. I shrugged and blew out a long breath.

"Yeah...you're right. Guess I'll have to make do with my little pink rabbit tonight"

She punched my arm in mock anger.

"Blowing me out for a battery powered charmer...some friend you turned out to be...bitch!"

We laughed again and walked off arm in arm to our next lecture...

XXX

You know that strange feeling when you're neither asleep or awake? It was Sunday afternoon. I'd been out swimming on my own, which I didn't mind. Fifty lengths of the pool, a hot shower, and by the time I got home, I was knackered. My mum was out saving some endangered mammal or other, and after a cinnamon hot chocolate, I stripped down to just my knickers and dived under the sheet on my bed. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but it was a cold day, despite it still being September. I closed my window against the unseasonably sharp wind that was billowing my curtains and slept.

I don't know what the time was when I surfaced...my head felt heavy, still thick with sleep. I groaned and rolled onto my back. Daydreams swirled around my head in disjointed waves. I stretched my arms over my shoulders and stifled a yawn. Jesus, I need to get laid, I thought, apropos nothing. There was only silence downstairs, my mum would probably be out until supper time, unless she got fucking arrested, like last time she went on a rally.

I don't know what impulse put it into my mind, but suddenly I was aware of a throbbing sensation between my legs that I'd almost forgotten. I tried to bat away the connection it made to my dreaming head, but it kept nagging at me. Like a loose tooth you can't leave alone. Fuck me...I'm actually horny, I thought.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the best bits from Cyprus. I knew, even in my dozing state, that thinking about Emily and sex together would pour instant cold water on the heat in my stomach. I'd tried that before, and it didn't work. Too many bitter tears had flowed.

No, I needed something emotionless but sexy to get off to. I thought about Sasha's brown tits, big and lush under my fingers. She'd been married for 5 years, but no kids yet, so her flesh was supple and firm all over. Those tits had fascinated me. I spent a few happy afternoons just teasing her...mouthing and lapping at her sensitive nipples until they were almost painfully erect. Until she growled at me in frustration, and forced my hand between her legs. God, that lady love to fuck and be fucked...

My right hand stole under the thin sheet and began to trace gentle lines round my stomach and breasts. No pressure...yet...just fingernails and the tips of my fingers. My mouth opened in a silent 'o' as my nipples crinkled and stood firm. I have sensitive nipples too and I knew just how much this teasing would help me have a spectacular orgasm. An empty house, my own fingers, happy memories...it was bliss.

Gradually I pressed harder, pulling at my nipples until they ached pleasantly. My other hand slid down from where it was gripping the bed rail. I needed more stimulation now. My legs opened wide as my fingers slid across my stomach, teasing the fine, soft hair before oh so gently finding my wetness.

"Oh yeah" I grunted as the tip of my middle finger found my clit, which was just coming out to play. I dipped my finger lower and collected some slick moisture there. I was so wet already...I knew it wouldn't take long. I'd denied myself this pleasure way too long already.

Gradually, with images of first Sasha, then a succession of beautiful and impossibly inaccessible celebrity faces and bodies, I built my desire. Soon the hand that was cupping and kneading my breasts in turn was needed elsewhere. I like penetration when I come. Always have. I considered stopping, so I could dig out my small pink dildo from the bottom drawer of my bedside table, but stopping meant not feeling this delicious rush for a few seconds, and I didn't want to break the mood. Instead, I pushed my left hand between my rolling thighs and thrust two straight fingers up inside me.

My breath came out in a whoosh as I registered how full I was now. I set up a regular rhythm...in and out with the fingers, curling them on the out-stroke, and with my other hand, used two fingers to isolate and circle my clit.

Instantly, I knew this was gonna do it. I thrust deeper, spreading my legs as wide as I could. My head went back into the pillows and I heard my own ragged breathing and repeated moans in time with my frantic fingering.

Suddenly, the images in my head changed abruptly...instead of Sasha's lush tits, a smaller, more conical pair filled my minds eye. A slimmer, youthful body occupied my fantasies. A familiar face looked down at me. My mind was spinning with her scent, her growls, her...thrusting inside me. I arched up off the bed, hammering at myself with straight fingers. My clit throbbed purposefully and I heard myself groan her name...again and again. As my toes curled into the mattress and the orgasm shook me over and over again, I could hear my voice calling her name.

"Emily...Oh FUCK baby...I'm coming...oh fuck..Emily!"

Just as the spasms started to slow, and my wet fingers slipped nervelessly from inside me, I heard my bedroom door squeak. Not loudly, like it did when my mum barged in...but softly, like it did when someone was coming in slowly and carefully.

My stomach and thigh muscles were still twitching from the aftershocks, and my head just rolling back to its normal position. I gazed with unfocused eyes at the doorway. It couldn't be my mother. Catching me masturbating was an occupational hazard for her. After the first time she walked in on me getting off, which resulted in her attempting to 'put me at ease' by sitting on the bed beside me while I cringed under the sheets, not knowing whether I wanted to die of shame or kill her first, then die of shame, she had abandoned her talks on sex altogether. Thank fuck.

So no...it couldn't be my mum. Mollie? Oh God, that would be embarrassing, but not terminally so. She'd probably shrug and read a book till I finished.

But it wasn't my mum...it wasn't Mollie. It was a person I never expected to see in my bedroom ever, ever again.

Standing in the doorway, woolly hat in one hand while the other was held over her open mouth, was one Emily Fitch. My ex...