6teen Fan Fiction ❯ Another Lemon in The Lemon ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

6teen: ~Another Lemon in the Lemon~
(or, Chewy Granola Romance)
by AladdinAbu
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NOTE: I know another author did a lemon in the Lemon, and out of respect I titled mine "Another", since they beat me to it fair and square. I say there should be dozens of lemons in the Lemon! Who doesn't wanna get it on in giant fruit?

LISTENING TO: Dragonette's "Galore"

Oh, and if some of you are reading this out of curiosity but you don't much like some of the *ahem* kinkier fetishes I included, watch out for "Part 2". Most of the stuff before that shouldn't offend many... but in Part 2, all bets are off. You've been forewarned.
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"There he is!"

Jen grabbed Nikki by the collar and yanked her behind a potted plant. As they looked on, Nikki leaned in toward her friend and hissed, "Who? And why are we swimming in shrubbery?"

"Corey Halder," Jen told her. "I've been dreaming about those eyes all day... ohh, but I just don't know what I'm supposed to say to him!"

"Wait, wait, back that train up. Jen, I thought you had decided Junior Jock-boy was too 'roid-rage for your tastes."

Jen frowned, playing with a lock of her flowing red hair. "I know. And... okay, shut up about it, but I can't help it, he's so... tasty. Besides, he's only back in town for the weekend. Maybe a little back-of-the-multiplex action, and then he's gone, right? No harm, no foul."

Nikki pursed her lips. "Whatever. If he floats your boat... but how are you gonna set sail if you're drydocked? Go talk to him, get the ball rolling."

"It's not that easy, Nikki - I mean, you've got Jonesy, I'm not sure you remember what-"

"Yeah," she snorted, slapping her knee. "And Jonesy is some prize, lemme tell you. Don't be a twit. Just go over there and say, 'Hey, sexy, let's kick it.' Whatever happens, happens - but nothing will happen if you don't start instigating."

"I just... I don't know. My heart says 'yes', but my head says 'you're delusional'! Geez, I'm such a spaz..."

For a long, tense moment, Nikki just stared at Jen, contemplating. Eventually, Jen began to feel sweat beading at her temples - what was the deal? Finally, Nikki shoved her hand into one of her cargo pockets and whispered, "Here, take it, quick."

"This looks like... a bag of trail mix. Except... is that tree bark?"

"SHH!" she said desperately. "If you ever tell anybody you got it from me, I'll fillet you like a cod."

"Wait, Nikki, is- this doesn't contain marijua-"

"NO," she snapped. "And that's the LAST stuff you want for what you're thinking. But... okay, trust me; take a nip of that yourself, just a pinch, then feed some to your target over there. You won't be able to keep your hands off each other all night. I was going to use it for my date with Jo- I mean, at some future, undetermined time. But I can always swipe more from my parents."

"But... if it's for that, then why would I need-"

"To get your freaking confidence up, wussbag," she said with a snarky grin. "You're never going to approach him in the first place if you don't find some balls - and uhhh, speaking of which, I refuse to divulge the exact ingredients in that bag, so don't bother asking."

Eyebrows knitting, Jen held the tiny plastic bag up to her nose, unsealing it and taking a whiff. "Okay... but how do I get Corey to eat this crap? It- EW, it smells like chocolate and barf!"

"Have Jonesy make it into a granola bar for you. That's what he's doing across the aisle from the Khaki Barn; making custom granola bars."

Jen felt her forehead wrinkling from the strain of digesting that tidbit. "Really? I mean- no, seriously, what's he doing?"

"Custom granola bars. No shit."

"Huh." Jen regarded the bag, glanced at Nikki who smiled that suggestive, sarcastic smile of hers, then shrugged. "What the hey? Might as well, it's not like I have a better plan."

"That's the spirit, my little siren. Go lure him to his doom!"

"Right!" Jen took three steps, then frowned. "Heyyyy..."

~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going according to plan. Jonesy, as it turned out, actually WAS crafting made-to-order whole-grain slabs of sticky goodness at a tiny kiosk, and was more than happy to mash the offending substance between oats, peanuts, brown sugar, and maple syrup. He also had some kind of powdered peanut butter flavoring, and she had him add a ton to mask the flavor of the mystery concoction Nikki had foisted upon her.

"Uhh," Jonesy said nervously, "If, um, you don't mind me asking-"

"I do," Jen said madly, standing over the strange pressing machine like the stereotypical witch over a cauldron. "Just make 'em!"

"Four, right? Ohhhkayyy..."

Not long after, she was stalking through the food court, scarfing down one of the bars. She wanted the stuff to kick in ay-sap. The other three she stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie, keeping them back for the moment she would spring them on her unsuspecting prey. Now where had that desirable sack of man-meat gone...?

"PSSST, JEN!"

Crap - now was not the time to let herself be sidetracked! But Jen knew she was too good a friend to turn her back on a plea - not without hearing what it was first. Sighing deeply, she turned to the Big Squeeze lemonade stand and droned, "What is it, Caitlin?"

"I really have to go to the washroom," she squeaked out. The pain showed in her face, alright; her mascara was beginning to run slightly at the corners as it always did when she was upset, and her normally-perfect (even under the dorky lemon hat) platinum-blonde hair was beginning to look the tiniest bit disheveled. "It's been so boring here in the Lemon all day that I've been drinking my own product, and- oh, I know there's only half an hour 'til closing, but I can't take it anymore! And out of nowhere there's this huge line, and I'd just bail but I'm already on thin ice with the boss!"

"Miss, I haven't got all day," the man at the front snapped rudely. "Hurry it up!"

"Jump in here for me?" she asked sweetly. "J-just until I p-powder my nose! Please, I'm begging, here!"

"Fine, fine," Jen growled, jogging around the lemon. "Be back in TEN MINUTES, or I'll bounce on whoever's still waiting and you can take the heat! I have a mission to accomplish!"

"You're a lifesaver!" Caitlin squealed, literally leaping over Jen in her haste to find a lavatory, hat and apron still falling toward the floor when she was already long out of sight.

"Great, just what I needed." Shrugging in defeat, Jen popped the old lemon onto her head and slipped right into her former job. "Breaktime shift-change, everybody! What was it you ordered, sir?"

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Where was Caitlin? The line was only getting longer - what had she put in the lemonade, heroin?! Twenty minutes... the guy several people from the front was pretty cute. Had he just winked at her? Jen felt herself getting flustered; her hands shook as she poured the lemonade into the blender and hit the "liquefy" button. But, as always, she was professional, the very image of grace under fire. Not one drop was spilled, no matter how desirable the man was. That salt-and-pepper hair, the chiseled jaw...

"Lemonade."

"Coming right up," she told him, giggling. Had she actually giggled? It took her three tries to actually get the straw through the hole in the lid; the palpitations were getting pretty bad! Finally, she handed it over and sighed dreamily, "Here you go. Have a gorgeous day!"

The man's eyes narrowed. "I've got my eye on you."

"Me, too," she giggled again, waving as he moved off.

"Jen!" She whirled to find Caitlin standing at the door to the lemon, jaw hanging open. "Tell me I'm hallucinating!"

"What do you mean?" Jen whispered, clearing her throat. Why was it so hard to talk all of a sudden? "Um, you're back now, so uhh-"

"Were you actually hitting on RON?! He's like, A THOUSAND!"

"He's not THAT old," Jen laughed, waving a hand. It was only once she'd said that out loud that her brain reasserted itself; she HAD been hitting on their sworn enemy, the security guard! He was at least pushing fifty, if not older! What was wrong with her?! "Uhhhh..."

"Maybe you oughtta lie down," Caitlin said fearfully, laying a kind hand on Jen's shoulder. Such a gentle, delicate hand... so immaculately manicured. Like ivory... "Get your bearings back."

"It's okay," Jen said, shaking her hair out. "Let's... I'll help you polish off the rest of these customers. It's almost time to close up anyway, right?"

"Sssssssure. If you say so."

Ten more minutes passed, and they finally had to turn the last few of them away to keep with the schedule. When the old woman started shouting about how she'd been standing in line forever and demanded service, Caitlin hastily slammed the lid of the Lemon, and that was that; they listened as she stormed away, growling and swearing.

"Whew!" Caitlin laughed. "That was intense!"

"You're telling me," Jen laughed back, mopping at her brow with the corner of the apron. Why was she burning up like she was? It was actually fairly cool inside the Lemon, she knew from past experience. As she began counting down the register, Caitlin started turning off all the machines except for the cooler. "Not a bad haul - any idea why we had such a run on this stuff?"

"Well," Caitlin snickered, "I heard that the movie theater switched distributors for their imitation butter flavoring. LOADED with salt. My guess is that everybody who saw a movie and ordered popcorn but no drink..."

"Gotcha. Man, I wish they'd done that when I was working here - look at all the tips in this tip jar!"

"GOSH!" Caitlin's face lit up in the dim illumination from the cooler. "I... wow, Jen, that's amazing - but you have to take half of those, you did half the work for the rush."

"Don't be an idiot; it's your job. I don't technically work here, so it wouldn't be right for me to run off with your money."

Caitlin shook her head as she dug into the jar. "If it IS my money, I can do whatever I want with it - like give it to a friend. It's not like it's from the register, I'm not stealing. So here."

As the girl forced a huge wad of ones into Jen's hand, holding them there and waiting for her to take them, Jen felt touched. Sure, she'd been sort of annoyed at being made to bail her out, but this proved the blonde didn't take her for granted. She was lucky to have the group of friends she did. Jen slowly traced her thumb along Caitlin's knuckles, thinking about what a long way she'd come since they first met, right there in that lemon...

"Umm, what are you doing, Jen? Take it."

"Right," she giggled, hastily stuffing the bills into her pockets, knocking one of her remaining granola bars to the floor. Why had she bought those, again? "Oh, crap - I forgot all about Corey!"

"Corey? As in, Corey Halder? Wow, that's a name I hadn't thought about in a while! What about him?"

"Yeah, I was going to- I mean, I wanted to give him one of these granola bars. Because they're really good. But... oh, I don't even know if he'd still be at the mall after closing. Damn!"

"Maybe you can still catch him," she said brightly. "I'll finish up here, it's fine, you've done so much already."

"Okay, then - see you tomorrow."

And Jen left the Lemon. Except, when she twisted the doorknob, nothing happened; it spun freely, having no effect on the latch itself. "Uhhh... Caitlin, what did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't open the door. What's the deal?"

"That can't be right," she whispered, bumping Jen aside and rattling the knob herself. "I mean, Big Steve just had this lock replaced today, it can't be broken!"

"Looks like he went for another cheap deal," she said through gritted teeth. "I seem to recall one such occasion when he replaced the blender with one from a thrift store... and I spent three days applying continuous coats of lemon residue before I got him to break down and buy a decent one."

"It's okay," she told both Jen and herself, taking deep breaths. "I'm okay, it's okay. We'll just... we'll open the lid and climb over the counter, and then we can call Big Steve about the lock. Yeah, that sounds good."

As luck would have it (or not have it), the hinged roof of the lemonade stand refused to budge. Jen now realized only far, far too late that she'd never mentioned to Caitlin when training her what a mistake it was to ever, EVER slam the lid shut with more force than neccessary; it very seldom (but still too often) shook loose a wire in the hydraulic mechanism, which meant that there would be no opening or closing it until the technician came out to futz with it. Though it wasn't typically a huge deal, this time their door wasn't working, either.

"Crap," Jen swore, whipping out her cell. "Hang on... okay, there, it's ringing."

"Hello?"

"JUDE!" she sighed heavily. "Thank GOD you picked up, we need your help - are you still at Stick-It?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you maybe come over to the Lemon and pick the lock? I know you can do it, I've seen you do it a thousand times when you forgot the keys to the Stick at home."

"Pardon? Sorry, dude, you're breakin' up, like, mega."

"Oh no," Jen hissed. "I forgot, my carrier's reception in the mall sucks - anytime I'm in the Lemon or an elevator or anything, I can only get one or two bars. Listen," she said slowly and clearly into the phone, "come to the Lemon!"

"Whoa, no way! You're a 'tooth man'? Is that like the tooth fairy? DUDE, that is so wicked awesome!"

"Jude, no, you have to listen careful- what? ARGH, it dropped the call!" She sighed, sinking to the floor. "And I'm out of bars, now - I'll just have to wait until the signal gets stronger. How's yours?"

"Well... about that... um..."

"Caitlin?"

The blush in her cheeks was surely not from makeup. "Seems I've had a teensy problem with texting bills lately."

"Your parents yanked it."

"Bingo."

"And Big Steve is too, ahem, 'frugal' to actually install a landline here. What are we going to do, Caitlin?! We can't just... just live in a giant citrus fruit until someone finds us!"

"Ummm... want a smoothie?

~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour had passed. Though Jen tried calling all sorts of people, she could only catch a weak signal at the best of times. Alternately, one of them would stand up and rattle the door, or else try something like using a credit card to jimmy the cylinder like in all those spy movies. Nothing helped, and the lid stayed stuck tight no matter how hard both of them pushed at the same time. It was entirely hopeless; they were locked in the Lemon.

To make matters worse, every passing second she stayed secluded in the Big Squeeze, she could feel her heart rate heighten, her discomfort grow. After the first five minutes, she had eventually realized the cause; those damnable granola bars. Whatever Nikki had given her had some definite effects, alright. The worst part of it all was that she could feel a tingling sensation building somewhere it shouldn't build. As there was no easy way to broach this subject with Caitlin, she suffered in silence, praying Ron would come back and discover their plight - and that she wouldn't throw herself at him again when he did.

"This is so awful," Caitlin sobbed, crouched next to the cooler. "We're going to die in here! Die with the lemons!"

"We're not going to die," she snapped at her, crawling over to sit closer. Even the sensation of rubbing her thighs together like that drove her up the wall! But she blocked it out, forced herself to concentrate on conversation and their plight. "Pull yourself together! It's just one night - even if nobody hears us or notices we're gone all night, eventually morning will come and they'll figure out something's wrong when we're not here and the Lemon is still closed!"

"Well... if you say so, I believe you. But I'm just - how can this have happened?"

"Wait a minute... hey, Caitlin, what's this?"

She wiped her eyes and stared, then shrugged. "A wrapper from one of those granola bars you were talking about. Gotta admit, they're not bad, but nothing to go gaga over."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh? What uh-oh?"

"No uh-oh. I m-mean, nothing, it's no big deal. Say, isn't it getting warm in here?"

Caitlin shrugged, playing with the hem of her skirt. "Maybe a little, but I... Jen, who cares? I'm so... what did I do to deserve this? J-just because I w-went to the bathroom-"

"Come on," she whispered, passing her a few napkins from under the counter, which she immediately began to use to scrape the running mascara from below her eyes. "We've been through worse than this. I mean... at least Tricia's not here."

"True," she responded with a burst of laughter. "Thanks, Jen. I'm sorry I got you trapped here with me, you'd be out there free if I hadn't asked you to cover for me."

"That's what friends do for each other." To reinforce her point, she placed her hand over Caitlin's where it lay on her skirt. Wow - her skin was so moisturized! How did she find time to do that?

"What are you-"

"Can we hold hands for a little while?" Jen asked suddenly; once it had come out of her mouth, it had sounded strange, forward, but she still stitched her fingers through Caitlin's, feeling a thrill running up her arm. "Maybe, uh, not talking... conserving oxygen... resting, you know."

"O-okay," Caitlin stuttered, not fighting against her but clearly confused. "We can rest. Nothing else we can do."

"We could," she whispered before catching herself. "I mean, could not. Do anything else, I mean, yeah. Sorry, shutting up now."

And in silence they sat, hands locked together like the Lemon was locked-down. Jen was still burning up; it was like an oven in there. After a few minutes, she kicked off her sneakers and flexed her socked feet, feeling them breathe and release heat. It wasn't enough, however, and she soon found herself unzipping the hoodie, then shedding her socks. As she was allowing the sleeve on her free arm to slide off, she heard Caitlin whisper, "We don't need to conserve oxygen."

"What?"

"The Lemon is an inch off the ground, except at the little feet," she said, pointing; sure enough, they could see a thin stripe of light coming from underneath. How had she never noticed that before? "Guess they planned for just such a horrible accident like this one."

"Don't beat yourself up," she panted, letting go of Caitlin's hand so she could toss the hoodie into the corner, making her t-shirt immediately follow. "Things like this happen once in a while; Jonesy and Nikki got stuck in that elevator, remember?"

"Jen, what- geez, you're practically naked already, okay?"

"Sorry," she panted, sliding her skirt down her legs. "Seriously, I'm burning up, I can't figure out what else to do."

"Have another smoothie," she suggested. The blonde was swallowing nervously, tugging at her own collar. "Umm... or just the ice? Just chew ice, that helps cool you down bigtime."

"No, I- I'm better," she lied, sitting back again and wasting no time in grabbing up Caitlin's hand; it was very important she hold that hand, feel it against hers. It was all that brought her comfort. "Besides, I can't drink anything else or I'll have to get rid of it, and I don't think another trip to the little girls' room is in the cards for either of us tonight."

"That's for sure. Man, I cannot believe nobody noticed yet! Are you sure you don't have enough bars to make another call?"

"Even better," Jen laughed, allowing her leg to drift over and press into Caitlin's. That felt nice... "The battery's dead, and I don't have my charger here; it's back at the Penalty Box."

"I see," her fellow prisoner said softly, twitching when Jen's head sank onto her shoulder. "T-too bad."

"But we'll be fine," she said contentedly, snuggling in close. "It's not like I mind being stuck in here with you. In fact, it's... kind of nice." Caitlin might as well have not said anything, her reply was such a high-pitched, inaudible squeak. "We've been friends for a while, I guess, but we never seem to get to hang out together much. Not one-on-one."

"Because you don't like me," she half-laughed.

"That's a lie and you know it. We just, don't have very similar interests. But you've been a good friend, and we've had some adventures. Fun. We're having fun now, I think - 'cause it's you and me. It's not horrible like it would be if I were trapped in the Penalty Box with Coach!"

"Yeah," Caitlin giggled now, letting her own head drop down onto Jen's. "This is true, I can think of dozens of people who'd make this kind of thing a true nightmare! Even if it were Jude, or Wyatt."

"What do you mean?"

Caitlin smiled, now kicking off her own sandals, growing more accustomed to their plight. "Okay, they're cool, I know. But Jude would spend the whole time saying that he was hungry, and gassing the room with taco-farts, and trying to find out how many straw wrappers he can shove up his nose. And Wyatt... I bet I'd be hearing a lot of pining over Serena. All night."

"Too true!" Jen laughed aloud, picking up their hands and plopping them back down. "God, are you sure we've only been friends since your credit cards got cut up? It seems like we've known you forever!"

"Nope," she said with a grin. "Just fast friends, that's all."

"I'm... I'm sorry we weren't before," Jen told her earnestly, betraying exactly how much she meant it. Luckily, Caitlin seemed to miss that.

"We moved in different social circles. I was an elite, and up where I was you and the gang were just 'poor people' to me. It took being cut off from the parental cash flow and forced into this yellow monstrosity to wake me up and see what real amigos and amigas are like. And by the way, I'm... this is going to sound iffy, but I'm sorry if I was ever mean to you before, when I was snobby. I never meant to be mean to anybody, not like Tricia; I didn't understand the consequences of my actions."

Jen shook her head, enjoying how that shoulder felt beneath her cheek, breathing in Caitlin's perfume. That fragance was killer - she needed to have it. Or was it the perfume she needed to have? "Hey, one of those things, no biggie."

"But it's still... doesn't it kind of rub you the wrong way? How we're led to believe things have to be a certain way, that you can only like certain people, and- and others are off-limits? Think about it, Jen. What else could we be missing out on?"

At those words, Jen sat up, drawing back to look at this girl whom she had assumed was more shallow than a puddle after a light summer shower. There was a definite rouge in her cheeks, and she was biting her lip. Her philosophical musings had some definite overtones that she may or may not have intended - if it wasn't just Jen reading her own burning needs into them. "Y-yeah? And... what is it we're missing out on?"

"I dunno," Caitlin whispered, frowning. "But... there has to be plenty. We can't have it all figured out. Seeing Tricia walking around with her head up her ass proves it; she doesn't have a single true friend in the world. If I can discover you and I have common ground... there has to be more."

Jen nodded, staring straight ahead, tracing along the bottom of Caitlin's foot with her big toe, squeezing her hand slightly harder than she meant to. "More... there's always more. Yeah."

The breath she let out was flustered, alarmed. However, she only said, "Lots more. And we're missing it... because we think a certain way. Like certain things. But what if there's... there's other things we could like... and we don't try them? We're robbing ourselves of so much... so much p-pleasure."

"Pleasure," Jen said, trying to keep the moan from creeping into her voice... unsuccessfully. Her hand was lying in her lap, innocently from all outward appearance. But in truth, she had a single finger poked around the side of the crotch of her panties, sliding slowly and discreetly along one of her labia. Shame burned in her cheeks, broke her heart, but she had to release the pressure somehow; it was like a balloon being pumped too full of air. Eventually, if she didn't find a valve somewhere on her body, she was going to explode.

"A-and-" It took Caitlin a second to swallow, and once she finished she was panting with the effort it took to focus on her words. "And here we are, in the twenty-first century, or whichever one we're on. People are st-still hung up on things like money, and- and status, and gen- and gend- and JEN, stop doing that to my thigh!"

"Sorry," Jen said with no trace of remorse in her voice, but still resolutely moving their hands back from the inner thigh and resting on top. "Slipped... y-you were s-saying?"

"I was saying that we shouldn't be playing footsie," Caitlin told her meekly. "It doesn't feel bad, but- hey, isn't that kind of, of... strange?"

Jen enjoyed the feeling of Caitlin's toes flexing, trying to twitch away from her. Caitlin's were so much prettier than hers, with the gentle curves, fresh pedicure... Jen had always considered her own to be somewhat angular. Therefore, she had more trouble pulling off a nice pair of sandals. So jealous - but somehow touching them together made her feel better, as if they could share in the glory of having aesthetically-pleasing feet this way. "Nah. We're bored. I forgot to bring my chess board to our incarceration. What else are we going to do?"

Caitlin's voice did not grow louder, but rather yet softer. "But you're a girl. W-we're n-not- this isn't-"

"What was all that stuff you were saying a second ago about letting our preconceptions bar the way to new experiences?"

A few seconds passed. To her surprise, instead of complaining more, Caitlin laughed quietly. "Everything sounds so much smarter when you say it, Jen. Oh, I wish I was as smart as you..."

"You are," Jen urged, leaning more into her, letting her lips brush Caitlin's neck briefly; the girl shivered, gripping Jen's hand tighter. "You just have to figure that out for yourself. I know you are; I see how sharp you are, Caitlin. You're downright astonishing."

"Jen!" she choked out, voice dry and rough. By this point, Jen noticed the girl's other perfectly-formed hand was in her own lap, but only pressing into the flesh slightly through her skirt, nothing overt or drastic. "Why did it take me so long to find a f- a friend like you?"

"That's what you get when you're not looking in the right place. But I was here, all along, waiting. And I'm glad we're how we are right now. So very... very glad. In fact, there's nowhere I'd rather be. Is that... does that make me weird? That I'm content to be trapped in a clamshell kiosk?"

"Oh, yeah," she cackled heatedly, squirming, rubbing her face against the crown of Jen's head. "But we can be weirdos together. I won't tell."

"Good. Me either."

"It's so freaking hot in here!" she burst out, sitting forward and peeling her babydoll shirt up and over her head. Jen forced herself not to look at her creamy, exposed midriff, at the color of her bra - pink, obviously. The skirt came next, immediately, no hesitation whatsoever. "Argh, that's better, but still not bestest. Could I- oh, but no way, that's super wrong, I couldn't do that."

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna take this bra off," she whispered nervously, unable to look at Jen. "But- well, don't be mean to me about it, but I don't want you staring at me. Not that you would, of course! But please, don't look, or try not to. I'm so flat, and I'm shy about it."

"Okay, got it," she blurted excitedly. Excitedly? Forcing herself to remain calm, she tried to sound disinterested as she said, "But let me take it off for you; no sense twisting your arms around back there when you've got a partner here to handle that."

"Yeah, I'd appreciate that," she breathed.

Jen slid right in behind her as she leaned forward, hands pushing the clasp in on itself, releasing the hooks. She was touching Caitlin's back. Now she was touching Caitlin's BARE back - and it was so smooth, so taut. Panting aloud, she slid her hands around the sides and felt the supple, giving flesh around front, just a little. Her friend froze, halfway through the motion to throw the brassiere across the room. Caitlin moaned, shivered, and her hands came to rest lightly atop Jen's, caressing the fingers. Then she whispered, "Guess I didn't say not to touch."

"Nope. You want me to stop?"

"Mmhh... yeah, please. In a minute." Then she cleared her throat. "I mean, right now. Yeah, that's what I meant. Didn't I?"

"Let me know when," Jen breathed, working into the flesh, squeezing, even pinching the nipples; she felt her friend jolt every time she did. "Mmm, wow, what do you mean 'flat'? They're pretty decent."

Caitlin tried to laugh, but it came out more like a gasp. "Not like yours. I mean, you have to have at least a couple digits on me, if not a whole letter grade... maybe two. I know, I- I can feel them pushing into me right now. They don't feel like A's."

"Stop," she giggled, face somehow reddening yet more than it already was. "Flatterer."

"Why would I say that just to flatter you? It's true, you've got the better figure, I'm woman enough to admit it."

Jen smiled as she drifted to the side, pulling in her leg and easing it around Caitlin's other side. The blonde leaned back onto her, happy to have someone to recline against. "If you say so."

"What a stressful day this has been," Caitlin sighed as her hand drifted down between her legs, rubbing herself slowly through the fabric of her white lace. Jen felt woefully underdressed in her standard-issue grey sports bra and girl-briefs. "First we have some crazy holiday-sized rush for no reason, and now we're stuck with no escape... and it's so hot in here! God, how could it be so hot?"

"Well," Jen whispered as she continued to play with the other girl's soft, perky peaks, "we do have more clothes we could take off..."

"We do. But then we'd be- and we're still in the Lemon. What if somebody does find us, and we're naked? That will definitely look unprofessional!"

A quick shrug as she nuzzled into Caitlin's neck. "Survival; we'll die of heat stroke if we don't take drastic action. I'm not saying it's a great idea; just an idea. I'm sure it won't help much anyway."

Caitlin continued to sit there for a moment, enjoying the sensations on her most sensitive parts. Then she flipped over, kneeling in front of Jen, face burning, eyes pleading as they bored into Jen's; the redhead had to fight tooth and nail to keep her eyes up instead of staring straight down at the beautiful cleavage presented to her. "No specifics about tonight ever leave this mammoth citrus. Right?"

"Right, of course not," Jen told her adamantly, hands automatically sliding along Caitlin's shoulders, up to cup the sides of her face. One of her glossy lips quivered when she felt the palms against her cheeks. "I promise."

That's when Caitlin slid her hands up Jen's stomach, forcing their way under the fabric of her bra, pushing into her flesh, playing, coaxing pleasure from her. Jen bit into her lip hard, twitching all over as she fought not to give in to how good it felt, how electric. The bra was being forced over her head, and soon lay on the floor; she was exposed! To the shopaholic! Why? Not that she was done; when she felt fingers on her hips, she breathed, "W-wait, I-"

"I'm sorry," Caitlin blurted, distressed by her own actions. "I'm j-just trying to help you. Weren't we trying to cool off?"

"I'm not sure being that 'free' will cool me off so much as..." As heat her up. But she couldn't say that, not out loud. "No, go ahead, might as well."

Thigh muscles clenched and locked themselves together once her panties had reached her knees. There were limits; she wasn't going to reveal the inner designs of Jennifer Masterson to anybody but her husband. Even when Caitlin's gentle hands glided back up her legs, resting on her hips, she didn't budge. "There. Better?"

"A little," she said with a hesitant smile. Caitlin beamed back at her, so relieved that Jen hadn't started crying or slapped her. "You, now, stand over me."

She obeyed. Just like that, she did as she was told. Jen worked the lace down toward the floor, taking her time, allowing her fingertips to trail along the skin after the panties. Caitlin was teetering visibly from trying to stay upright during this. Once they had fallen far enough, she stepped out of them, then slowly sank toward the floor. A vision of a tuft of whitish hair was all Jen caught before she was straddling her, on her knees, face inches from Jen's. "Thank you."

"Mm."

"I..." Caitlin began to lean in, lips parted, eyelashes fluttering, but then she drew back, grinning again like she'd been doing nothing in particular to be worried about. "So, can I get back in your lap? I liked that; I feel like I haven't had that since I was a kid."

"N-no- I mean, yeah, of course, Cait. But you... have to turn around first."

Once Caitlin had stood and turned, presenting her ample, curved backside for display, Jen spread her legs slowly. Taking a shameless moment for herself, she brushed her own clit, pushing into it, chewing the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from moaning out. Moment over. "Alright, go ahead."

And they were back in position. Immediately, Jen began fondling Caitlin again, not daring to hold back. "WHOA, that- ooh, how did you get so good at this?"

"Doing it to myself," she said with a wicked cackle. "Why, you like it or something?"

"No," she said stubbornly. "But I- well, if I had any boyfriends who could do this, I might have held onto them."

Jen blushed furiously, feeling the tingling sensation heighten yet more. "Good to know. But if you want me to stop, I will; I just like the feeling."

"Me too..."

It was unbelievable; Caitlin had begun masturbating. Right there, right in front of her! Maybe she didn't think Jen could see - and she was right, she couldn't, not inside - but there were only two things that make a girl put her wrist in exactly that position, and Jen couldn't see any empty tampon wrappers on the ground. As they both rubbed various parts of the blonde, her thighs drifted farther apart, her calves draped over Jen's legs. To her credit, her breathing was only slightly shakier than usual; no moaning, no whimpering. But the slight scent of arousal in the air was now very noticeable, and from both of them. Too much was going on.

"Jen, s-something- what's wet back there?"

"Dunno," Jen told her matter-of-factly as she ground into Jen's behind. "I, um... must not have been very thorough cleaning up last time I, um, was in the washroom. Sorry if that's gross, I-"

"Right, right," Caitlin laughed nervously... as her wrist picked up speed, positively vibrating. "It's only pee. S-say, could you do me a fa- a favor and p-pinch my nipples again? I've never done that before, it's k-kind of interesting."

"Anything for... a friend." She had come so close to saying "anything for you". As Jen dug in harder, manipulated the breasts with greater force and less restraint, Caitlin's feet planted on the ground, forcing herself to open up more as she slid those fingers all over, making obscene squelching noises that were impossible to ignore. "Caitlin..."

"Keep squeezing!" she moaned, breath coming in ragged gasps. "We are in the Big Squeeze, aren't we?"

"Caitlin," she said again, wetter, full of shame. "Do you... have an itch? Down there?"

A slight whimper as her hips began turn to the left, then to the right, her hand thundering along in its task all the while. Her response betrayed so much relief that Jen almost cried for her. "Y-yes, I- yes, it's so itchy! Damn, I must have forgotten to use shaving cream the last ti- time I- time I trimmed!"

"Then let me help you scratch it."

Two hands were playing with Caitlin now, sliding over each other in their haste to manipulate the sodden folds. "Ah!" Caitlin squeaked. "Y-you're- why did you touch-"

"It's so different from mine," she said in hushed tones. "Not that I'm made of sandpaper, but you... it's like a cloud..."

"J-Jen, I- this is freaking me out, what-"

"I'm helping you scratch your itch," Jen purred brokenly, other hand still playing with the pliable mound as she let more and more fingers glide over her friend's slick lips, dipping inside only far enough to ellicit a panicked outcry without truly penetrating. "That's all. D-don't be so uptight."

"Okay!" Now she was at it again, feeling all over herself, brushing Jen's hand, sometimes pushing Jen's hand into herself. "Harder, Jen, harder - it's still itchy!"

"I'm working on it."

"Work on me, Jen!" she moaned aloud, beyond the point of restraint, convulsing, leaning her head back on Jen's shoulder as she panted, "It's so bad - I'M so bad! M-make me all better!"

At hearing that, Jen felt herself grow yet hotter, felt more liquid seeping out as she ached to be touched herself - but one at a time. Caitlin was bucking into both of their hands, back arching, mouth hanging open. Such a pretty mouth... with no willpower left to head it off, Jen dipped her head down and drew Caitlin's bottom lip into her own, savoring, aching for more. "Hmnh?!" her friend questioned.

"Wondering what flavor of lip gloss you have on today," Jen invented. "I like strawberry..."

"Have more," she breathed, leaning up, straining for Jen - and Jen rewarded her, mashing their faces together, fondling, groping all the while. It was like kissing a dream wrapped up in ribbons of heaven. At long last, she felt Caitlin begin to screech into her mouth, and hearing how loud her own noises were the blonde redoubled her efforts, opening her mouth wider to allow Jen's tongue to delve in, to slide along her own, exploring. Anything to keep the sound from being heard too clearly.

"Almost got it!" They released their kiss at last as Caitlin's back arched higher and higher. "Almost g-got- al- AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

"Oh!" It was sheer surprise; Jen could actually feel the orgasm around her fingers, throbbing, pressing out and together. It was plain as day. Now she was coated with juices down there, and Caitlin stopped touching herself, opting to rest her hand on the back of Jen's instead, goading her into touching more, playing more, drawing more pleasure from the moment. Then the spell broke, the waves subsided, and she fell back, sucking in huge gusts of air to feed her lungs, limp as a wet noodle.

And now, Jen had a sexually-sated blonde in her arms. How could that have been so divine?


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END PART 1
(next up - THE FREAKY SHIT!)