Unknown: Noreen first time

"Eat my pussy, you pipsqueak cunt," Noreen said. "You're supposed to be my friend, Jacquette-but you're not."

"Never have been, you fucking dyke bitch," Jacquette snorted. "Not if a friend's someone who goes around lapping your asshole all day. Listen, Noreen. I'm trying to help you."

"You call insulting my body help?"

Noreen had removed her sweat-soaked leotard top and tights.

She snapped her panties off.

Ran her hand down her slick titflesh.

Scratched between the asscrack.

And jagged a fingernail at the itchy cut.

"You're supposed to be a pro, Noreen.

"They don't think so."

"A gymnast. An athlete. A competitor."

"Not anymore. I'm supposed to be gone."

Noreen tossed up her nose. Arched up her ass. Threw her tits out.

She dipped down, rose up curtly. Like a bird sipping water.

"See that, Jacquette? Last time I'll ever do a gymnast's fucking bow."

"Don't shit me, Noreen. You're tough. Don't try to put on a soft-puss act now."

"You said they'd think of me as a cow-an old sow. That's fucking mean!"

"They are fucking mean, Noreen. I know how they think. And I'm telling you."

Noreen turned sideways to the full-length mirror. The naked bod she saw reminded her of someone else-not herself.

Not the body of a sylphlike nymphette. No longer did Noreen's figure conform to that of a miniature wraith-with the deceptive fragility of appearance that all the judges seemed to demand with respect to current fashions among them of form and-the resultant subjectivity as applied to the scales used for scoring.

Noreen examined her newly emergent mounds of titflesh. Saw the rise of assmeat about her haunch. The Mound of Venus was now a mature and forested hillock-furry and furrowed.

"That's good stuff, Noreen."

In the mirror; Noreen saw Jacquette stab a cigarette into her yip and light up. Noreen saw the way the cigarette dangled from the corner of Jacquette's mouth as she spoke.

The tight curve of Jacquette's lips as they clenched the burning faggot gave Jacquette's expression a kind of sneer-yes, Noreen could take that impression, even though she knew it could merely be a function of Jacquette's oral mannerism of holding onto and sucking her cig.

It lent Jacquette a toughness that Noreen appreciated, in fact admired in others. But repressed in herself.

"You know Noreen, you were lucky that you didn't get all fitted and assed-out earlier. That's the real reason you were all pissed-over today. You and me-we're the oldest gymnasts on the team-"

"Were, Jacquette." Noreen's eyes were blank. "You are. I was. Isn't that the problem?"

"With the attributes you have, Noreen, it should not be a problem. Only if you wanted to remain a gymnast. Then it's a big problem."

"What should I do?"

"If you want to remain in gymnastics, you might try to become a coach. But I don't ever recall your mentioning that possibility one single frigging time during any of our discussions-even before we were roommates."

Noreen broke into a smile.

Took hold of one of her tits.

Tugged it.

Shook it in her fist.

She flicked one of her nipples.

The nipple tip crinkled into a hardened point. Stared straight ahead.

"You think a dancer?" Noreen said with a wrinkle to her nose.

"Yeah. Why not? You've already got a lot of background in movement, body control-and you've had as much dance training as most of the would-be dancers in your age range."

Jacquette suckered long and hard on her cigarette. She furrowed her brow. Seemed to bore her eyes into Noreen's erect nip.

Then she dragged her eyes down Noreen's rib cage. Took in the tautness of her tush.

The ripeness of her cunny.

"But, Noreen, dance is a whole different circuit. You would have to start at the bottom. Work your way up."

"Well, most girls of my advanced age haven't even really started seriously on their careers. Maybe some models or actresses-but certainly not lawyers or businesswomen."

"Everyone's got it tough. If you tried to get a gig as a receptionist or secretary, you'd have a fuck of a lot of competition."

"Probably so."

"I mean it, Noreen. There are dudesses and dollies out there right this motherfucking second who are willing to give blowjobs-suck dick right there in the office!"

Noreen made a gagging look.

Jacquette blew smoke and ranted on. "Those bitches-I know some. Jerk-off and buttfuck for any old fat cocksucker they can in order to get those jobs." Snapped her fingers. "Fuck and suck right off the bat, baby."

Noreen grinned.

Flushed.

"I know you're right, Jacquette. But that doesn't make me feel any better."

"Well, Noreen," Jacquette came close to her. Draped her arm about Noreen's shoulder. "You don't have to think they have an advantage just because they are willing to act like whores."

"I know-guys are like that."

Noreen felt a trill through the center of her body as Jacquette rubbed her tense neck.

"And also, Noreen. You shouldn't feel self-righteous just because you're cherry."

"You know I'm not a virgin only because I want to be. I don't believe in that shit either."

"Well, perhaps your standards are too high. I mean, the first guy you ball doesn't have to be Sir Galahad saving you from the dragon of your wasted unsated sexuality or a multimillionaire stockbroker who desires you and only you so much he would break and enter your chastity."

"Standards? High? It's only that the time, place, and guy have never been quite right."

"Excuses. You have to make them right."

"Shit."

"What?"

"I just noticed-"

"Aha!" Jacquette chirped.

She speared into Noreen's furrowy vulva. Tweaked into the flesh.

"Ow! Jacquette!"

Pulled out a woolly tuft of pussyhair from Noreen's twat. Raised her arm to Noreen's face. Twirled the bushy flocculence in the light.

"Omigawd, Jacquette. It's, like, a completely different color."

"Maybe you got some dye on it."

"From my-uh-headhair? Not likely. It's also a different texture-even from the rest of the-uh-ones on my-"

"Cunthairs are like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The other ones-they're just peachfuzz, most likely."

Jacquette turned the crinkly pubes in her fingers. Saw light flash.

"So these are your first real womanly cunthairs, Noreen. Shiny-they're like real blonde, a little red. Be proud of them."

She kissed Noreen on the cheek. "Thanks for ripping them out."

"You'll get more."

"Like you?" Jacquette began disrobing.

"Fuckingchrist, Noreen. You've seen me."

Jacquette shot down her sweatpants. Pinched off her leotard top. Rolled her tights and panties down her legs into a heap.

Standing up to her full posture, Jacquette arched her back.

Tight tiny tits studded her chest.

Rump strutted out behind.

"You're the one who's lucky, Jacquette. You still have thin hips. And your bazooms are like little champagne glasses. You might get to stick around for a while."

Jacquette snorted. "But I don't quite have that fairy quality anymore. It's like all my experience comes out. Like I can't even fake that I'm innocent anymore. Drag getting old."

A hank of long dank barbs pitched out from between Jacquette's legs. The dense fur thatched Jacquette's snatch in straight crinkles with relatively few curlies.

"You know my porcupine pussy," Jacquette smirked. "All these pusshairs. I've got way too many for easy grooming. You can take some of mine if you like."

"Maybe I will."