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Big Tits

Fiona parked outside Charlotte’s house when they got back from their trip across the border. Charlotte longed to lean across and kiss Fiona but knew that sort of thing was never going to happen. Not in broad daylight with her mother watching through the living room window.“Thanks for being my model.”“I loved it. And I’ll drop the dress round later.”“There’s no rush. Drop it round any time. I’m heading back to Belfast this evening. Need to get into the darkroom to develop these pictures, and then work on the final painting.”Charlotte’s face fell.“So you won’t be around for a while?”“Just for a couple of weeks. By which time, you’ll be on your summer holidays and maybe you can come and stay in Belfast for a few days?”Charlotte grinned.“It’s a deal.”She skipped out of the car and headed inside to change. She hung Fiona’s dress in her wardrobe, running her fingers over the lace as she remembered the afternoon in the graveyard. The memories of Fiona’s face between her legs caused Charlotte’s fingers to slide inside her panties. The thought that Fiona had taken all those pictures afterwards while her panties lay discarded on the grass made her blush.Charlotte placed her other hand on the wardrobe door to steady herself as she pressed down on her fingers. She curled two fingers inside as the heel of her palm ground against her clit.Fuck, she was soaked. Charlotte bit her bottom lip as she slammed her fingers in deeper, harder and faster. She could hear them squelch. She replayed the scenes from the afternoon in her head. Fiona with her face between Charlotte’s legs, Fiona straddling Charlotte’s face, Charlotte running her tongue around and around Fiona’s clit. She dropped to her knees. She knelt, one hand holding her up while the other was shoved inside her knickers. She could still smell Fiona on her face and as she leant forward, face pressed into the carpet, she came all over her hand.She slowly brought her breathing under control. She pulled her hand out of her ruined knickers and wiped her cum over her face. Her tongue darted out to lick the strands of webbing from between her fingers. Her reminiscences were rudely interrupted by her mother calling to tell her that dinner was ready. With a sigh, she pulled on clean clothes and headed downstairs.At school on Monday, Deirdre handed her a sheet of A4 file paper.“I’ve got an idea for a song. Can you come up with some music for it?”Charlotte read the lyrics, focussing more on the structure than the meaning. It was basic enough. Four lines in each verse, an AABB pattern and a four-line chorus, also AABB.“Sure, what kind of tempo had you in mind?”Deirdre glanced around and then shyly sang the first verse in a whispered voice.“I was thinking that kind of speed,” she shrugged güvenilir bahis when she had finished. “I like it. I’ll try and come up with something for practice on Wednesday.”Charlotte spent the evening messing about on her guitar. The guitar playing caused another row with her mother. Something that was becoming more frequent. This one was about how she had the end of year exams coming up which would be used as predicted grades for applying to university.All Charlotte could think about was how she couldn’t wait to get away from here. Maybe she could apply to Liverpool. Get back with her old friends again. Mind you, she reasoned, she had the band here, not to mention Fiona. Though she would be heading off to London in a  few months. Charlotte decided it was best not to think about that. She wished she could spend more time with Fiona but she wasn’t at all sure how Fiona’s sister Emma would react to the news that both her sister and her friend were lesbians.Charlotte distracted herself by putting chords to Deirdre’s lyrics. She settled on A, C and D for the verses with a change to F and Em for the chorus. She began working out a guitar solo but decided it might be better to let Deirdre hear the structure before putting too much work into it.Reluctantly she pulled the history books towards her and tried to get her head around Roosevelt’s New Deal for the seventeenth time.Wednesday night practice was a disaster. Fergal was late, and once they did start, Emma couldn’t keep in time and Deirdre kept messing up the lyrics. After half an hour, Fergal decided he’d had enough and suggested the three girls practised without him before they met up next week.Emma slung her bass into the case and slammed it closed. She picked it up and headed for the door. She looked back at Deirdre and Charlotte.“Are you coming?”Deirdre hurried after her as Emma stormed off up the road. Charlotte still had her guitar and cables and effects pedals to pack up so she just slunk down onto the floor and slowly, quietly, tidied everything up.“What’s up?”Charlotte looked up at Fergal. He looked concerned. Charlotte shrugged.“Fuck knows. She’s been in a mood for the last couple of days.”“What about you? Are you ok? Surviving Strabane?”Charlotte grinned.“Just about.”She’d never really got a chance to talk to Fergal properly before. He was always the drummer and when he wasn’t drumming, she was conscious of Emma and Deirdre watching her. Now that they were on their own, she found he was really easy to talk to, as well as being quite cute. No scratch that, not quite cute, really cute.They left the community centre together and walked down the road, Fergal tapping his drumsticks against his thigh as Charlotte lugged the guitar case. They came to the güvenilir bahis siteleri entrance to Charlotte’s estate. There was a patch under a couple of large trees which blocked out the glow of the streetlights.Without meaning to, without even realising it, Charlotte and Fergal kissed. She stood there, the guitar case still in one hand as Fergal took her face in his hands and kissed her. She felt herself lifting up onto tiptoes as their lips moved in unison.Fergal broke the kiss and stepped back. He looked sheepish.“Sorry, I… I couldn’t help myself.” Charlotte smiled and swivelled her left foot.“I liked it. Maybe you should do it again.” She lowered her guitar to the ground and wrapped her arms around his neck.He really was the most delicious kisser, Charlotte decided. She liked that he was the first boy in ages who didn’t act like a teenage octopus. Fergal was content to let his hands rest on her hips and hold her as they continued to make out under the shelter and cover of the trees. It was the sound of the footsteps of an approaching Army patrol that finally broke the kiss. Charlotte blushed, giggled and picked up her guitar case. With a hurried “goodnight” and one last kiss, Fergal slipped off into the night and Charlotte headed inside for another round of “Where have you been to now, on a school night, young madam?” with her mother.The last week of school finally arrived. Band practice had been curtailed for a few weeks due to the exams and Charlotte hadn’t spoken to Fergal in weeks. The nascent career of ‘The Whirling Dervishes’ was going to be put on yet another hold as Deirdre’s mum had announced they were all going on a family holiday to Majorca for two weeks once school was over. Despite Deirdre’s pleas, protestations and tantrums, she was going too. The phrase, “You will be allowed to stay at home on your own for two weeks over my dead body” may have been uttered more than once.Emma’s mood hadn’t improved but at least Charlotte now knew the reason. Emma’s ex-boyfriend was back for the summer and he’d brought his new girlfriend home with him. Deirdre had told Charlotte that Emma had been hoping they’d get back together over the summer. Emma had even applied for courses in the same university he was at but he had arrived back home with a new girlfriend in tow. Emma was adamant that she wasn’t bothered but she was fooling nobody. The fact they’d been holed up in their rooms for the past few weeks and hadn’t been out drinking or seeing bands just added to the heightened sense of frustration. Charlotte couldn’t wait for the weekend.First, however, was the small matter of Fiona’s end of year exhibition at the Art College in Belfast. Emma and her Mum and Dad were going up to see the exhibition iddaa siteleri and they asked Charlotte if she wanted to tag along. Charlotte’s parents agreed to babysit Emma’s little brother and sister and so Charlotte piled into the car for a trip over the mountains to Belfast.When they got out at the Art College, Charlotte could see why Fiona didn’t come home every weekend. Over two hours in the car over twisty bumpy mountain roads was not a journey she’d want to make too regularly. There had been a train at one time but someone in their wisdom in the 1960s decided the car was king and all the train lines had been torn up. Now there was just one train track left around the coast from Derry to Belfast that took even longer than the car.Fiona came running down the steps to meet them. She was looking as glamorous as ever in the black lace dress that Charlotte had worn on the photoshoot and it was hugs and kisses all around. She pressed her lips to Charlotte’s ear. “I hope you like the painting.”She quickly led them inside and a few minutes later, a glass of warm sticky white wine in hand, they crowded around Fiona’s exhibition space.Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She stood mesmerised as she ran her eyes over the painting. It was definitely her, lying defiled on the gravestone. The bright greens and blues of the summer June Saturday had been transformed into a cold grey night scene but it was still recognisably Charlotte lying there with a painted Fiona looming over her, mouth open and two long incisors dripping with blood.Fiona brushed off the compliments from everybody as just an illustration for a gothic vampire story but the eroticism in the painting was palpable. Charlotte could sense Emma sidling up beside her and felt herself blush as Emma gave her considered opinion of the work.“You look like you’ve just had the shit fucked out of you.”Charlotte got the impression Emma was angry with everyone and just looking for an excuse to lash out so she bit her tongue. “I need a drink,” Emma slurred and Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief as Emma wandered off to find a wine waiter.Charlotte slowly walked around the exhibition room, looking at the work Fiona’s classmates had produced. Most of them were going on to study at art college, either in Belfast or heading across the water to England. Every so often, she’d steal a glance back at Fiona and sometimes catch her looking back.Charlotte felt the conflict inside her again. Fiona and Fergal, both competing for her attention. Fiona was everything Charlotte loved but it was so difficult. Lesbian was thrown around the playground as a term of abuse and Charlotte was so confused. She wasn’t a lesbian. She fancied boys, she fancied Fergal. She wanted to sleep with Fergal. She’d lain in bed and thought about Fergal taking her, fucking her. But then she thought about Fiona. She’d recently bought the same perfume as Fiona and sometimes lay in bed, inhaling the heady scent and imagining Fiona was there beside her. 

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