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Reviews 8 : - add review, Author : anne, Part 1 from 1.

My New Home...1

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*This story is fictional; except for the fact, that maybe it has some and not all things that I feel. Trust me…I am not depressed and do not need a counselor lol and my father is not that bad. He does not hire hookers/prostitutes or drinks or anything bad though and he is alive so don’t get the wrong idea! I’m not depressed or abused! Lol so anyway, this was just set so that there is more emotion and feeling and development not only for this story and for the next few to come. Thank you and tell me what you think!*

I cannot think of any possible way that this could become any worse than it already is. Since the death of my father, my mother has done nothing but cry endlessly every night mourn, thinking that if she put just enough faith into it, he will return. My father meant nothing to me. He was a hopeless entity of lies, not knowing his own daughter’s age, birthday, or grade. He abused, he yelled, his temper was uncontrollable, but yet I wonder…how could my mother love such a horrid man. I could not be any happier now. I’m free of those lonely nights that I’m locked in my room, remembering the day my father cooped me up and kept me in my room without electricity for a week. I starved. Moreover, I thought my life was improving; I can finally go out and see my friends. Spend a weekend at a friend’s, shop, dance, live, but you know what? That is not going to happen for me now is it? My mother “feels it’s best for us to move”. Where are we to move? Of all the places, she chose a gigantic, rich city in Ohio that I never even knew existed.

She felt the need to use the money my father failed to waste, that is right, waste. Hookers…prostitutes, he thought I never knew. Oh but how much it hurt when I kept it from my own mother. Enough about my useless life…and start with my new life, my “new and improved” life as my mother said, attempting to sound as cheerful as possible. However, I could tell from the swelling of her eyes and the bags under them that she was not the least bit cheerful. I waved to her carelessly as I grabbed my backpack and slammed the door behind me. I boarded the hideous, yellow school bus that I never had to ride back in New York, in which my mother was awake enough and sober enough to drive me to school every day. Convincing my mother to buy me a car was even more hopeless than trying to bring my father back. I have my license, but I still cannot drive, what is this? I have had it…once I turn eighteen; I am out the door with a stash of cash in my backpack. I know it is wrong to steal from my own mother…but she is as good as dead anyway.

This is what I told my new school counselor, and the very young, extremely beautiful brunette nodded and consoled me. One thing I have not told her though…why my father’s carelessness for me and why my mother fails to want to care for me anymore. I did not tell my parents and the counselor about my sexuality. Guys always hit on me, tried to convince me into just one kiss on every date I attempted to go through, but I pushed them away. I have never had a real crush on a guy before…but looking back when I was even just a child…I have noticed what I have felt for girls back then. Those feelings were what normal girls felt for guys. I was head over heels for my counselor even just at the first sight of her. It was so tempting to just stand up and put my head in her lap, to feel her touch me and hold me in her arms.

But I couldn’t, too much of a risk and I am obviously the shy type…too shy to attempt such a task. When my counselor stood from her chair, she walked over and gently placed both hands on my shoulders from behind. My heart probably skipped a beat or two; my heart jumped and instantaneously started beating faster and harder. I hid my difficulty in breathing as she massaged my shoulders, I thought nothing of this since, after all, she is merely my straight counselor. My counselor took her hair tie out and let it drop to the floor, her layered, shoulder length brown hair fell softly, I felt a few strands touch my face. Unexpectedly, she did the same with mine; my light brown hair fell limp onto my shoulders from that messy pony tail it was in. I did not reject her; I let her continue as she whispered soothing words into my ear.
“It’s okay sweetie…I’m here for you.”

I nodded and closed my eyes as my counselor began massaging my neck, her expert fingers felt so good on my tensed muscles.
“Just…relax.”
She removed her hands for a moment but I barely noticed, I felt completely relaxed, my fears and pain are aloof…for now. I heard a click and began to stand when I felt her hands on my shoulders again, pushing me back down and on my back on the cushion.
“Don’t worry about anything babe…just relax for me. I simply…locked the door.”

I did just that, I felt her move then before I knew it, I opened my eyes and my counselor was on top of me. Just gazing into my dark, brown eyes, I felt mesmerized by her entrancing yet beautiful blue eyes. I could not take my eyes off her; every inch of her was perfect. She must have felt the same way when I felt her lips gently touch mine. A small jolt of electricity ran through my body as I felt her tongue enter my mouth. She did this ever so gently, so calmly, and without any hesitation. I felt her hand make contact through the thin fabric of my tight tank top, her right hand rested on my abdomen. She rubbed my flat, toned stomach slowly as she made her way up, her other hand holding and caressing my face. My hands were resting on her hips; she was on her knees, which made it so irresistible that I just wanted to just tear off all her clothes. I controlled myself, slowing myself, pacing myself, I moved my hands up to feel her perfectly curved waist then down slowly, caressing her perfect thighs.

She moaned into my mouth, I became even more turned on as I heard her, our tongues met and intertwined, dancing and swirling about. I felt something make contact with my cunt, it was my counselor’s, and she had lowered herself down. Then she pulled me to the ground with her, she was now on the bottom. She rolled me over so that I was on the bottom again and she slid her hands under my tight tank top. Her hands felt so good on my skin, I moaned as she kissed down my neck. I felt her hands slide behind and unhooked my bra; she managed to quickly throw that aside and took my medium sized, 36B cups in her hands. She rubbed my nipples with the palm of her hands in tiny circles, I moaned even more, begging for her to continue. She squeezed my breasts ever so gently, I felt like I was in heaven. A female’s touch can be so different I thought, she smiled and pulled herself up. She pulled me up and sat me back down in her chair, she tied her hair back up and took my bra and threw it into her desk drawer.
“Souvenir.”

She said as she tossed my hair tie back at me. I pulled my hair back into a much neater pony tail as my eyes begged for her. She smiled again, almost a grin perhaps. She bent over, her face directly in front of mine, just three inches apart. I could see her perfectly rounded breasts of a 36C cup displayed right under my nose. I wanted so badly to take her nipples into my mouth and nurse on them. She took my chin and pushed my head up slightly, bringing my attention to her eyes and face. I gave a small, nervous laugh, she grinned again.

“You’ll come back tomorrow at the same time. We have lots to discuss…and lots more to do. Today…was just to make sure that you would come back for another session.”
“What makes you think I won’t Ms. Garnet?”

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“Please…Caitlyn. Anyway…I just thought a little preview would make you…want to come back for more.”
Ms. Garnet winked at me and opened the door, it clicked, and she did indeed lock it. She escorted me out the door and wished me a good lunch period…I had spent the first three periods of my first day in school in counseling. A terrible start…but I think it was worth it. Tomorrow will be another fantastic and even better three hours with Caitlyn.



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