I heard Lina giggling with delight as she witnessed what she had caused, spanking my ass lightly as I flailed atop the bed. She pulled the vibrator out and tossed it to the floor, and then lay beside me, gently rolling her fingers over my skin. She held me tenderly, and for the rest of the night we kissed and cuddled and played with each other some more. It was as if we had been together forever, and yet we had only met hours before. I came to realize that the allure of a woman’s flesh was far greater than any man could be in my mind. I was now a fully-fledged lesbian, and I couldn’t wait to go to bed with Lina again.
Summer Holiday
Emily Cantore
Copyright 2012 Emily Cantore. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Emily Cantore
www.emilycantore.com
Email
[email protected]
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Summer Holiday
My summers growing up were usually quite dull affairs. Although I lived a privileged lifestyle in the wealthy suburbs with my parents, there was rarely anything to do beyond watching TV or playing in the pool, which got old really fast. Growing up I had a small group of close friends, with whom I would regularly play dress-up in my room or one of theirs, or we would spend countless hours planning our weddings, specifying every detail down to the precise date. It was fun, but not nearly enough to stretch out the month and half we would spend out of school for the holidays. As I grew older, the problem simply worsened with even the appeal of such childish pursuits waning as I became interested in the allure of boys. With my long, shiny blonde hair and ample, but perky tits, I was pretty enough to attract my fair share of male attention and even indulged in a few drunken fumbles whenever I was able to slip out of my room in the middle of the night. My experiences in sex left me wanting, though, and I could never quite put my finger on precisely what it was that my sex life was missing. That was, however, until the summer before I left for college.
I had turned 18 just a month or so earlier and was busy reading up on some preparatory literature in my bedroom. I heard the rumble of vans pulling up outside the house, and walked into my parents’ bedroom to look of the window. I could see the vans and a bunch of guys in matching uniforms climbing out. I realized who they were immediately – the house next door had been empty for a while, and as a car pulled up and a family got out, it was obvious that they were to be our new neighbors. As I peered down at them through the net curtains, I could see two adults, a young boy in his early teens, and a girl who seemed to be roughly the same age as me. She was incredibly pretty, or at least she seemed to be as I glimpsed her briefly as she disappeared behind the branches of the large apple tree in our front garden. She had long, jet black hair and the top she was wearing made it look like she had perfectly round, juicy breasts. A slight feeling of jealousy ran through my veins as I watched her, immediately deciding she was my enemy, even though I knew I would be moving out come autumn. I watched them disappear into the house and thought no more of it, going back to my room to continue studying for the rest of the afternoon.
A few days later I was out in the back garden taking a well-earned break from my boring text-book. My parents were both at work, so I had the
Summer Holiday
Emily Cantore
Copyright 2012 Emily Cantore. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Emily Cantore
www.emilycantore.com
[email protected]
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Summer Holiday
My summers growing up were usually quite dull affairs. Although I lived a privileged lifestyle in the wealthy suburbs with my parents, there was rarely anything to do beyond watching TV or playing in the pool, which got old really fast. Growing up I had a small group of close friends, with whom I would regularly play dress-up in my room or one of theirs, or we would spend countless hours planning our weddings, specifying every detail down to the precise date. It was fun, but not nearly enough to stretch out the month and half we would spend out of school for the holidays. As I grew older, the problem simply worsened with even the appeal of such childish pursuits waning as I became interested in the allure of boys. With my long, shiny blonde hair and ample, but perky tits, I was pretty enough to attract my fair share of male attention and even indulged in a few drunken fumbles whenever I was able to slip out of my room in the middle of the night. My experiences in sex left me wanting, though, and I could never quite put my finger on precisely what it was that my sex life was missing. That was, however, until the summer before I left for college.
I had turned 18 just a month or so earlier and was busy reading up on some preparatory literature in my bedroom. I heard the rumble of vans pulling up outside the house, and walked into my parents’ bedroom to look of the window. I could see the vans and a bunch of guys in matching uniforms climbing out. I realized who they were immediately – the house next door had been empty for a while, and as a car pulled up and a family got out, it was obvious that they were to be our new neighbors. As I peered down at them through the net curtains, I could see two adults, a young boy in his early teens, and a girl who seemed to be roughly the same age as me. She was incredibly pretty, or at least she seemed to be as I glimpsed her briefly as she disappeared behind the branches of the large apple tree in our front garden. She had long, jet black hair and the top she was wearing made it look like she had perfectly round, juicy breasts. A slight feeling of jealousy ran through my veins as I watched her, immediately deciding she was my enemy, even though I knew I would be moving out come autumn. I watched them disappear into the house and thought no more of it, going back to my room to continue studying for the rest of the afternoon.
A few days later I was out in the back garden taking a well-earned break from my boring text-book. My parents were both at work, so I had the
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