There's a small part of you that's constantly surprised when you see how happy Madison is to see you. Or maybe it's not a small part of you- you just don't expect people to actually be happy when you turn up on their doorstep.
But you can't deny that she is, even if you wanted to, which you definitely don't. Every time she sees you, her face lights up in a grin, and when you're not in school, she's constantly trying to get close to you. Hugging you, holding your hands, tucking herself against you, kissing you- you're not sure you've spent any time with Madison over the past couple of weeks without one of the two of you touching the other. Not that you're complaining. It's definitely not an unpleasant feeling, having such a cute girl want to press up against you all the time.
It's kind of awkward when Madison opens her door ahead of her younger brother on Saturday morning and immediately lets out a small shriek before leaping forward to hug you, though. You're not complaining, but the kid gives you a weird look, and you have to refrain from poking your tongue out at him.
"Taylor!" Madison exclaims, finally releasing herself from you and slipping her hands up your arms to let you clasp her hands in your won. "Come in, come in. Um, I didn't know you were coming over today."
You're forced to release her left hand when she turns so she can lead you inside, but you maintain a tight grip on her right hand. "I wanted it to be a surprise," you say with a small smile. The grin she gives you in exchange is smaller than the one before, but more tender, too.
"It's a nice surprise," she reassures you. "Um..." She hesitates, but before she can say anything, Rick pokes his head around the corner with an inquisitive look. He gives you a nod and a warm look before he turns to Madison.
"Nice to see you, Taylor," he says. "Come to see Madison? Do you need me to distract Jasmine for a while?"
"Um, no." You flush, both at the implication and because you'd seriously considered it last night. Multiple times. In succession. You flush harder. Madison gives the two of you an inquisitive look before her eyes widen and her own face turns scarlet. "I just wanted to hang out with Madison today," you say.
He smiles at that. "Good," he says. "Lunch will be at one today, girls."
"Okay," Madison says in a strangled squeak.
It's cute that Madison won't look at you for the next few minutes as she leads you up to her bedroom, but you grow tired of not being able to see her face pretty quickly. Once you're up there and settled on her bed, you gently push her down and lie half on top of her, slipping your hand up her shirt to draw small circles on her stomach. With your other hand, you reach up and gently lift her chin, forcing her to look at you. It's adorable how flustered she looks, but you only allow yourself to press a single kiss against her jaw before you speak.
"Hey," you murmur. She just whimpers, so you draw your hand beneath her shirt a little higher and kiss her jaw again. "Come on, Madison," you say reassuringly. "It's not that embarassing."
"Yes it is," she mumbles, but she does finally stop fidgeting, letting her hands fall to her side. You take the opportunity to actually pull her shirt up, revealing her bra-clad breasts, and press another kiss to her jaw.
"It's not," you say gently. "It's just sex, Madison. You didn't think we were going to just mess around forever, did you? Unless-" Oh, god, you'd never actually asked Madison whether she wanted to have sex with you, you'd just assumed. What if she didn't? What if this was as far as she was willing-
"No!" Madison's eyes widen, and she grabs your hands from where they were tightly clutching her shirt, gently rubbing them until your grip loosened and she can pull your hands down to rest on her breasts instead. "No," she says more delicately, "I definitely do want to- to have s- sex with you, Taylor." Her face reddens even more noticeably as she stammers over the words, probably not helped by the way you begin softly squeezing her breasts as she talks. "I just d- didn't think Dad would know," she finishes meekly.
Oh.
Well, that's more understandable.
You lean back in, pressing a kiss against her jawline. "He knows about us," you murmur. "I don't know what your Mom knows, but your Dad gave us permission. I didn't want to sneak around your parents' back. That would make it hard to have a relationship with you."
Her eyes darken, and she chews her lip briefly. You don't fail to notice her nipples hardening when she finally opens her mouth and admits, "I kind of thought you were going to steal me away from them. I had a whole fantasy about it. I imagined like you'd take me and- and have sex with me until I couldn't think of anything else, and then-"
You lean up and kiss her, cutting off the flow of words. You're not sure how much longer you can resist taking her here and now if she keeps talking like that.
"I considered it," you say lowly, "but I don't want to steal you away, Madison. I told you already, I want a relationship with you."
Her gaze softens, becoming less heated and more warm. She nibbles at her lips for a moment before leaning up to press a kiss against your neck.
"Good," she murmurs, then returns to lay down submissively beneath you.
"Good," you mimic her. "Now, Maddie, take off your bra and we'll go hang out with your family a bit."
She gives you a small, amused smile, but follows your orders without hesitation, removing first her shirt, then her black, silky bra. You try not to stare at her breasts, although you can't help but lean down and bite her nipples quickly, drawing a shivering gasp from her before she puts her shirt back on. You can see her hard nipples poking through it, but so long as she doesn't cross her arms or pull her shirt down, they're not prominent enough to draw attention.
You don't have any real plans with what you want to do with her today- you hadn't even planned on getting her to strip her bra, it was just an impulsive decision- so you leave it up to Madison to decide what you're going to do this morning. She hems and haws for a moment, seeming to gravitate towards the small TV in her room for a moment before shaking her head, taking your hand and leading you out to her little brother's room.
You haven't really spoken to Madison's little brother- Terry- before. He'd been around the last time you'd been over, and Madison had told you about him, but you've only ever seen the kid from a distance. She seems to be close to him, though, at least from what she's said- she doesn't understand his hobbies or anything, but she's described him as having an infectiously cheerful attitude.
What your girl hadn't described was the way her brother doted on her. From the moment you stepped into his room, he was babbling away, describing what he was doing in this latest game and how he was doing in school and how he'd been making up this story with his best friend Fred and his other best friend Daniel and also his other best friend Julie and isn't it the best story in the wholest of the world, Madison, it's so cool!
Frankly, you're a little overwhelmed by the kid's enthusiasm and energy. You blink rapidly as you try to keep up with the stream of words coming out of his mouth for a moment. Madison just nods along, half-listening with the practiced ear of someone long used to taking in this kind of babble.
"Terry," she interrupts him when he finally pauses to take a breath. He stops crawling around on the floor, where he was looking for a picture he said he'd drawn of the characters of his story, and looks up at her with an expectant look. "I wanted you to meet Taylor. She's a... special friend of mine. Say hello to her, okay?"
All of his enthusiasm seems to drain out of him at once, and he retreats shyly into himself. For a moment, your heart pangs, although you're not sure why. He looks out from behind a curtain of curly brown hair and says shyly, "Hi, Taylor, I am Terry! I am six years old!" His mouth curls up in an awkward, toothy grin as he says it. It sounds like he's rehearsed that sentence several times before.
"Six years old?" You try to make yourself look exaggeratedly surprised, but you're not sure it works. "No way, you seem way older than that!" He giggles happily at that. Encouraged, you continue, kneeling down so you can extend the hand that isn't still holding tightly onto Madison's to him and look him in the eyes. "I'm only fifteen. Do you know how old that is?"
He nods seriously, holding up his hands and poking out his tongue in concentration. "Yeah, yeah! That's... five and plus ten!" He holds up first one hand with all five fingers out, then both hands with all ten fingers out, looking very pleased with himself.
Beside you, Madison coos and pats his forehead. "Very good, Terry," she praises him. His grin somehow grows wider. "Now weren't you going to show us your game?"
"Oh yeah!" He looks shocked that he'd forgotten. "Go sit down, Madison! And you can sit down too, Taylor," he adds, eyeing you and nodding with childlike approval. "You can watch me too, but you hafta be quiet, okay? The monsters can hear you when you talk." With a serious nod at both of you, he scurries over to the cabinet at the far end of his bedroom and begins rooting through a small collection of books and plastic covers sitting atop it.
Having gained Terry's approval, you feel confident enough to take the reigns again. Madison allows you to lead her over to her brother's head, where you sit and gesture for her to lay beside you. She does so, leaning her head on your lap.
For the next few hours, you and Madison watch Terry play various games on his consoles. For all his warnings about the monsters hearing you when you talk, he shouts loudly whenever something happens or he gets a little scared. You suspect that if the game actually could recognize when people were speaking, Terry's cries would act like a beacon for everything on the screen.
Eventually, one o'clock rolls around. You're tempted to stay for lunch and continue spending some more time with your girl, but when you wander downstairs, it's to find her mother glaring at you from the table for a moment before she conceals it behind a strained smile.
Ah. Yes, you remember now. Her mother doesn't approve of your relationship with Madison. Well, that's really too bad- you're not interested in catering to anyone except Madison. Still, you already know that her mother's approval does matter to Madison, and you don't want to get in the way of her family- not when it means so much to her.
Madison follows you to the door, pouting at you. "You could stay," she protests. "Mom's just being a bitch right now." You're actually a little surprised to hear her using such strong language to refer to one of her own parents.
You shake your head, then lean down to kiss her on the mouth, and again on the nose. "No, no," you murmur, "I don't want to cause any issues between you and your mother. Go have your lunch. I'll see you on Monday."
Her pout doesn't fade until you kiss it away, though. In the end, it's actually difficult to drag yourself away from her. You know it's for the best, though.
Besides, you conclude, you can always just deal with Jasmine later. You're hesitant to use your powers on Madison any more, but her mother is a different issue. Madison may be tentatively willing to allow you to see other women while you're with her, but there's no way in hell you're going to cause her that level of pain by playing with her mother's emotions like that.
Instead, you spend the rest of the day wandering around the Boardwalk, casually poking around the storefronts for anyone looking for high school workers.
It's difficult going, unfortunately. You're only fifteen, so you're still covered under child labour laws. No more than four hours work on a weekday, and no working before seven in the morning or after seven at night; even your weekend hours are restricted. Most places that are willing to hire teenagers still prefer to wait until they're sixteen or seventeen, both so they can actually work passable hours and for the less stringent restrictions in the kinds of hazardous work they're allowed to do.
Downtown is a big place. There are still a lot of other places you could look.
Still, you're feeling kind of discouraged by the time you head home.
Your mood has buoyed back up a bit by the time Sunday rolls around and you're headed off to Victoria's book club again, but it doesn't climb back to the heights you'd experienced while spending time with Madison. That's a bit depressing in itself, honestly; you hadn't thought you'd pinned that many of your hopes on getting a job, but you honestly had kind of hoped it a little.
Even outside of being able to actually take your girls out on dates, having a job would mean you'd be able to contribute some money to your household. Dad wouldn't have to scrimp and save to afford the money for your bus trips, wouldn't have to dig into the change jar to be able to afford another loaf of bread if the one you bought weekly goes stale or mouldy midway through the week. It would have helped a lot.
But it wasn't to be, you conclude as you step inside the bookstore again just before noon, this time clutching a small satchel containing an old copy of The Riddle of the Sands you'd dug up from your mother's collection.
For the first time in a few days, you stretch your power out properly.
You find Victoria almost immediately; she isn't making any attempts to hide her emotions. This time, you actually take a moment to pause and examine her emotions. There's the remnants of her lust and loyalty, of course- you begin almost immediately to tug on her loyalty, reinforcing it before she even sees you- but there are other emotions in there, too. Pride, contentment, naughtiness, wilfulness, an undercurrent of anger- and something you can't quite pin down, something you haven't felt before. It reminds you somewhat of the feeling you'd got from one of your neighbours when she'd walked around her front yard nude after you'd played with her lust for a while. Victoria isn't feeling lust at the concept of exhibitionism, not quite- but it's similar. More private, somehow.
She accosts you a few steps after you enter the store, affixing you with a naughty smile as she floats over to you. "Hey, Taylor," she drawls. "I'm glad to see you're back again." She's wearing a heavy jacket again, this one coloured a dark scarlet. Now that you know to pay attention to it, you can see that her skirt does rise indecently high, although it's hard to notice with the jacket's coattails hanging down.
"I wouldn't miss it," you reply.
Her smile just grows larger for a second. "Did you bring a copy of the book today?" she asks. You raise your satchel and go to answer in the affirmative, but she keeps talking over you. "Because if you didn't, you can sit next to me and 'share my book' again." She even makes quotation marks in the air and winks at you as she says it.
Well. Even you're capable of recognizing the innuendo when it's that in-your-face. You drop your satchel back to your side and give her an obviously fake frown. "Looks like I forgot it again," you lie glibly.
She smirks at you and reaches for your hand. You're prepared for it this time, though, and casually place your arms behind your back as you begin to walk forwards. Shes' caught a bit off-balance, and looks at you with a raised eyebrow as she floats casually in front of you towards the stairs. You poke her tongue out at her back when she turns back around. Pull you around, you grumble internally.
In a ritual familiar to you from last week, Victoria casually pushes you into a chair once you arrive in the book club's room, and waits for the store's clock to chime twelve so the attention of the other two dozen or so people in there is focused elsewhere before quickly taking her thick jacket off and sitting down, arranging her materials in front of her so nobody can see anything below her neck. She's wearing her lewd Glory Girl costume again, and it's exactly as revealing as it was last time.
You quickly touch her emotions again, getting a good feel for them. Her loyalty is tugging easily towards you- actually oddly easily. You brush around them some more for a moment, trying to understand what's going on. It doesn't take much; you quickly feel that same almost-exhibition rising up, strengthening her latent good feelings for you and making them much easier to manipulate. Her lust is rising similarly, although you haven't touched that one.
You should be safe to leave her loyalty as it is, you judge; it's not quite as strong as it was last week, but considering how easily she let you leer at her last week, you shouldn't need to worry about that. Instead, you begin gently tugging on her lust. It rises easily, too, but it'll take at least a few minutes to settle in.
In the meantime, you just casually lean over as if to peer at Victoria's copy of the book. You lower your head enough that the others in the room shouldn't be able to tell where your gaze is, and allow your hungry gaze to roam her body. The buzz of the others talking fades into the background as your attention narrows.
With your attention this focused, you barely need to focus your attention on your powers more than peripherally. You can feel Victoria's lust rising, but you can see the visible signs of it, too; little shivers rack her body every time you shift, and her hardened nubs are straining through her shirt. That answers that, you think, ignoring the thread of arousal that runs through your stomach; she's definitely not wearing a bra beneath that shirt.
It takes well over half an hour for Victoria's lust to rise gently enough that she lets you do anything more than just peer at her body.
One of the benefits of flying is that people who can fly don't need to shift the rest of their bodies in order to raise themselves off a seat. They can just float up a little, and to everyone else, it looks like they've just sat straighter for a moment. This allows them to do a lot of things- adjust seat cushions beneath them, straighten their skirts, and so on- without making a big deal of it. In Victoria's case, she's able to do rather the opposite; she bunches her skirt up, lifting it lewdly up and holding it to her stomach with one hand as she gesticulates with the other at someone else in the room, arguing about something or another.
She's wearing rather more immodest panties than she was last week. Or maybe she's just wetter than she was last week- you have been playing with her lust rather a lot. Either way, her panties are clinging to the outlines of her pussy lips, the faintly sheer material giving you just the slightest glimpse of the treasures laying within. You're pretty sure Victoria can hear the immediate change in your breathing, because she smirks triumphantly, leaving the guy she's talking to looking a bit lost.
You hesitate, fingers trembling. Last week, she stopped you from even looking at her panties for more than a moment. It could be a very bad idea for you to try to touch them this week.
On the other hand, it could be a very good idea, you conclude, and casually maneuver your hand such that you can press your index finger against her pussy through her panties.
Victoria stumbles over her sentence, but otherwise lets out no visible indicators of what you're doing to her.
Well, fine then.
You add your middle finger and press down harder, then begin stroking up and down. You can definitely feel how wet she is- she's not soaked, precisely, but your fingers are gliding easily up and down the material. She lets out a muted gasp when you drag your near-nonexistent fingernails down the front of her panties, sending a shiver down your own body.
It would be really easy to get used to drawing those kind of gasps from Victoria, you think to yourself.
You content yourself for the next hour or so by exploring Victoria's reactions as you play with her panty-clad pussy. She's pretty neutral on you gently stroking her normally, you soon find out; she doesn't mind it, but it doesn't draw much of a reaction from her. She has more of a reaction when you drag your fingernails around, or when you press down hard and rub within her entrance a little. What really drives her crazy, though, is when you spread your two fingers out to either side of her panties and squeeze them together, thereby rubbing her lips together, or when you move your fingers up higher and flick her nub slightly. The latter causes a whimper every time, so regretfully you can't do it very often; you're pretty sure that the quickest way to end this little game is to draw any attention to yourselves.
She stops really discussing the book after a few minutes of you playing with her, only saying anything when people directly address her, and even then only with a strained smile. The first time she does, you begin gently pulling on her loyalty again, drawing her attention away from the girl and back towards you; from there, you begin gently playing with both her lust and loyalty, teasing them up in tiny amounts, not really enough to affect anything significant, but enough to keep her attention focused on what you're doing to her.
By the time the clock downstairs chimes two, Victoria's panties are thoroughly soaked. You sneakily raise your finger to your mouth. She tastes pleasant- sweeter than you do.
As with last week, she just shrugs her jacket back on while everyone's attention is focused away, and waits until everyone else has left before she turns towards you.
Today, though, she doesn't make weird remarks about the club being elitist. She just draws you over into a tight, almost crushing hug, and whispers directly into your ear, "You're playing a very dangerous game, Taylor Hebert." When you look at her after she releases you, though, she's giving you a smouldering look, not an angry one. You can live with that.
You give her a faux-embarassed smile. "Sorry," you say sweetly.
She shakes her head, giving you a half-amused, half-frustrated shake of her head. "You don't even know what you're doing, do you?" she asks, softly enough that you're pretty sure you're not meant to have heard. Well, that's rude. You know exactly what you were doing. Louder, she says, "I'll see you next week." It's not even a question. You're momentarily tempted to avoid going next week now, just to spite her for trying to order you again. Then you feel the wetness still on your fingers, and that desire evaporates.
"Planning on it," you say with a cheeky smile.
She huffs out a laugh, then smooths down her skirt and leads you downstairs and out. Then, with a smooch to your cheek, she waves goodbye and floats straight up and away.
Well; that went well, you think.
In fact, it went well enough that you're not feeling down until the moment it's time to actually head off to school the next morning. That does, unfortunately, have the tendency to kill your good moods.
Your headache has returned, but only slightly. You're pretty sure you can still use your power some over the next couple of days without splitting your head in half; you're just going to have to make sure you give yourself a break somehow, or else be prepared not to use it for the rest of the week to give yourself a chance to recover. Or power on through the headache, but that sounds... unpleasant.
So; the question now is, exactly what are you going to do over Monday and Tuesday?
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