GOOD GIRL [18+] | Horny Holidays 02 √

01

AUGUST

     After dinner, my entire foster family camps out to the backyard for our annual thanksgiving bonfire. In all of the families I've been with, the Cummings have been the weirdest one yet. They have all these traditions.

     Not that I'm complaining, I love this family, and I've known what stability is because of them. They're the ones who've taken me in the longest and I'm pretty sure Mrs Cummings— or Jolene as she insisted—won't ever want me to go.

     Movement from my peripheral catches my attention and I frown. But awareness prickles and sharpens all of my senses.

     My clit pulses, my nipples hardening, and arousal washes over me. Dear God, I've never had this reaction to anyone and I hate that she of all people is the one to make my entire body tremble with anticipation.

     I don't turn around, instead, I finish my task of loading up the dishwasher. Swallowing the wedge stuck in my throat. The second I finish, I take a huge breath in and try not to show how I'm literally shaking with need.

     “Hey, Betty.” I smile at the gorgeous blond drilling heated holes in me from the entryway.

      I've not seen her since she left for college and I was utterly disappointed and heartbroken when Jolene told us how Betty got a girlfriend, not only that but she was also taking her home for thanksgiving.

      It's not like I blame Jolene, because if she ever knew my history with her gloriously stunning lesbian daughter, I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed Betty to bring her bitch home.

     You're better now. You've moved on, tho. Have I really tho?

     Smiling without mirth, I keep repeating that inside my head hoping that if I say that often enough I'll start believing it. Looking at Betty, with her flowy red skirt, showing off that smooth legs of hers that she's spent locked with mine most of the time. Her red lips and her smug smirk. God, do I wanna rub my pussy on that face.

     “August.” she winks at me and my heart explodes, the butterflies in my stomach get revived one by one all of the sudden. Kicking myself in the balls— not that I have any, but I would if I did. I shake off how her sultry voice caresses me.

     Almost as if, stroking me between the legs without even touching me. Schooling myself, I send her one of my practiced smiles that I've perfected over the course of three months. A smile my friends have teased me about, calling it my 'sex smile' or whatthefuckever.

     “We never really got to talk.” I smile, putting a little enthusiasm in my voice, one I'm not feeling, “So, how's college been?” I ask not really interested in hearing about how she's been doing totally fine without me. That she forgot about us completely.

     Turning around, I grab Mr Cummings— Chris's rum. I feel Betty's eyes following my every move but I don't stop. It's better if I keep moving so I don't feel her gaze latch onto my skin and creep towards my erogenous zones.

      “Uh... College is fine. I—” I tuned her out, bending over the fridge to take Betty's brother's pre-made eggnog— another tradition, it's Christmas once the clock strikes twelve and it's September 1. “it's not really what they said it'd be— honestly, August, what are you doing?”

     My body freezes, the rum bottle halting midair. I shoot Betty a confused look, “Eggnog? Do you want some? Does Jamie?” my face scrunches at the sour taste of Betty's girlfriend's name on my tongue. I reign in my expression quickly, not giving Betty the satisfaction.

     She walks towards me, her doc martens pounding softly on the hardwood floor. My body burns when her scent drifts over to me. It's this intoxicating mixture of citrus with something floral, some mint, and just plain Elizabeth.

      Pressing my thighs subtly together to ease the thrumming hunger that has my panties dampening. “You're not drinking alcohol.” Betty hisses, shoving her face in front of mine.

     Rearing back, I scoff at her, incredulous, “Excuse you? You're not the boss of me.”

     Grabbing my wrist, firmly, my pulse picks up and I glare at her pretty hazel eyes. “You're not drinking alcohol.” She repeats— more like states vehemently.

     I ground my teeth and laugh without humor when I tried to jerk my hand away but to no avail. Breathing heavily, I get into her face. Our lips mere centimeters apart, “No offense, but I've been drinking since you were gone. You know who taught me? That guy you told me to stay away from— let's see, Adym was it?” my heart stutters as I watch Betty's eyes darken, daring me to finish my sentence. Steeling my spine, “We use to drink a lot before I let him fuck me to oblivion and let me tell you, the way his co—”

     “You little shit.” I gasp when Betty's free hand reaches over the back of my neck and grabs at my throat. Using my surprise to her advantage Betty grabs the rum bottle from my hand and dumps it on the sink.

     “Man, is soooo Chris gonna kill you.” I croak. Wetness seeps from my pussy at the burn of Betty's hold on my neck.

     My eyes roll to the back of my head when she takes a particularly rough bite on my lower lip. I whimper against her lips and clutch the white top she's wearing in my fist. “My little rebellious devil, a little wet down there?” she breathes, sweetness grazing my mouth and I moan.

     Pulling her closer, wanting and missing the weight of her perfect body on mine. Missing it for the past few months desperately. “Please? Please, baby.” I cry softly and a shudder passes through her at the mention of the endearment.

     Growling, she stares at my lips with pure hunger, lust coating her hazels, “God, I've missed you so much.” she presses her lips on mine and slips her tongue in my mouth. All the while my ears ring with satisfaction.