Page 34 of Petite Fleur

I hate putting all this onto Shelby, but she reassures me she has broad shoulders and can take it. She lets me get everything out of my system, all while she hugs onto me and runs her hand through my hair.

“Lay down; maybe a nap will help you feel better. I'll rub your shoulders until you fall asleep.” She insists.

I shake my head, moving to stand up, but she stops me. She pushes me back onto my bed. “I'll get the outline for your class, microbiology, right? I'm sure I know someone in that class; just go put your pajamas on.” She says more sternly in her flawless southern belle accent.

How can I argue with her when she sounds so smooth and stern?

Why would I want to?

I hop up and head into the bathroom, changing into my silky pink shorts and matching tank top before going back into the bedroom and back to Shelby.

I don't even argue; I just lay face-first on my bed, hug my pillow, and let Shelby take over.

Her hands dig into my tense muscles, rubbing out the countless knots in my neck and shoulders as she makes her way further and further down my back until her hands start to knead my butt.

I groan loudly and immediately blush a deep, bright red.

I can't believe that noise just came out of me.

“Sorry.” I say nervously, but Shelby doesn't respond.

She doesn't react in any way other than to continue to rub my butt, going lower and lower every few seconds until her hands are at the hem of my shorts and rubbing my bare thighs.

Her hands slide into my shorts, rubbing my bare skin as she makes her way higher and higher until her thumbs are grazing my back hole, and I feel myself tense.

Why is she touching me like this?

Better yet, why do I like it?

"Relax, darling. I'm just going to make you feel good, okay?" She asks me.

I feel boneless, a melting puddle on my bed from her magic hands, and I can't fathom an answer beyond a mumbled “mhm.”

She trails her hands lower until her thumbs start tracing my lower lips.

I want to kick her away and put five layers of clothes between us, but I also don't want to stop her.

I want to lift my hips and let her pull my shorts off of me.

I don't know how I feel about that.

I thought I may have liked women when I was younger, but my mother convinced me that it wasn't true, that I was simply a confused idiot child.

She shamed me until I pushed that part of myself so far down that it hadn't surfaced again until now.

Her thumbs continue to rub along my lower lips, parting me gently. "Is this okay?" She asks me.

Is it?

"Yes..." I say quietly. I'm unsure, but I want it.

I want her.

Shelby tugs on the waistband of my shorts, making me lift my hips while she slides them down my thighs and tosses them across the room.

Once I'm more exposed than I've ever been around another person, she grips my hips and pulls me until I sit up onto my knees and sink my chest into the mattress.

I heard her mutter something about me having a cute pussy, I don't know. I think I'm delusional, but it makes me blush.

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