Girls Only: First Time Read online

  Table of Contents

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  GIRLS ONLY: First Time

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  ABOUT SELENA KITT

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  MOXIE

  By Selena Kitt

  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Selena Kitt’s *Girls Only*—where the girls get naughty together, but it feels oh, so good!

  Molly likes babysitting for single mom, Faith. She’s younger and cooler than most of the other people she sits for and Molly finds herself lingering at the end of the night, asking the older girl questions about life and love… and sex. When Faith comes home a little drunk and a lot horny, Molly finds that tonight, Faith has some show-and-tell answers to her provocative questions that leave both women more than satisfied!

  Selena Kitt Single

  Short Story—Big Bang!

  (approx 5000 words)

  Warning: This title contains hot panty-melting girl-on-girl action!

  GIRLS ONLY: First Time

  By Selena Kitt

  Selena Kitt Singles

  Short Story—Big Bang!

  Molly hated fast food—couldn’t stand the sight or smell of it, in any way, shape, or form. Most of her girlfriends claimed they hated it too, but they ate it—Chicken McNuggets and fries, double bacon cheeseburgers, all with Diet Cokes, of course. Molly truly couldn’t. It made her gag just to walk by a McDonalds. She had some weird food aversions, it was true. She hated both shrimp (the eyes and veins!) and broccoli—like eating little trees. Blah. But fast food was the worst. She’d seen one picture of the “pink slime” they make nuggets out of and was done.

  That was honestly why she started babysitting. Her friends all had seven-dollar-an-hour jobs working the drive-thru, handing out hot coffee and sausage biscuits and hash browns before school, but Molly couldn’t walk into a McDonalds let alone get a job there. So she was stuck finding babysitting jobs, getting paid anywhere from five to ten dollars an hour, depending on the family. It wasn’t a steady paycheck and it left a lot to be desired at the end of the month when she wanted to splurge on an outfit or a concert.

  That was why finding Faith was such a godsend.

  They met through an ad Faith put on Craigslist.

  Cool single mom, loves her baby boy, but also loves to go out and party and have fun. Who says you can’t have it all? Need a reliable babysitter for weekend nights, Friday and Saturday for sure, some weeknights, depending on my work schedule, someone responsible who loves babies (he’s nine months, sleeps through the night, it’s an easy job!)

  Molly had responded without a lot of hope. She was still in high school, just turned eighteen in January, and while most of her families had been hiring her for years and she had great references, she had a feeling the cool single mom, in spite of her partying ways, had pretty high standards. She was probably looking for Mary Poppins or Supernanny. She even considered putting on a suit and an accent but knew it wouldn’t fool anyone, so she went in her jeans and her geeky Dr. Who t-shirt with not a lot of expectations or hope.

  It turned out it was the best thing she could have done.

  “Oh my god, I love Dr. Who!” That was the first thing out of Faith’s mouth when she opened her apartment door for the interview. “Seriously, I’m totally on a Netflix marathon.”

  “Awesome!” Molly laughed, looking at the baby on the woman’s hip. He was a big, blond boy with wide, dark eyes. He looked a lot like his Mom. Even the round cheeks and curls around his face and little rosebud mouth. “Cute baby.”

  “This is Gilmore.”

  “Gilmore? As in Happy?”

  “Isn’t he?” Faith laughed, swinging the door wider and inviting her in. “I had a weird thing for Adam Sandler when he was born. Besides, his father wanted to name him Huffington Post and call him HuffPo for short, so it was the better of the two, as far as I was concerned.”

  “Well it’s better than North West,” Molly agreed. “Where is his dad?”

  They settled in like two girls having a casual conversation around the kitchen table while the baby—Gil—crawled happily around on the tile floor with a sippy cup and a Cheerios bowl, occasionally banging against their legs for attention and getting it. Molly was amazed how easy it was to talk to Faith, but she was still pretty young—just twenty-eight—and they liked all the same things.

  Except that Faith, unlike Molly, loved to go out dancing. That was the one thing they didn’t have in common. Dr Who? Check. Tosh.O? Check. IFunny? Check. But dancing? Molly didn’t do that. Besides, she spent her weekends and free time babysitting, not going out to the clubs with her friends. And most of her friends were out dancing and teen clubbing and having a great night life—those that weren’t already hooked up with some steady guy, that is. Those girls were usually out on dates at the movies, or holed up in some unsuspecting parents’ basement having sex on leather couches.

  Molly hadn’t ever done any of those things. She was still a virgin and thought she’d probably stay that way a long time, if the boys at school were any indication of what was available out there. Unless August “Gus” Coleman happened to glance her way one day and suddenly find her utterly irresistible. But that was about as likely as hell freezing over in July.

  That’s what she thought, until today.

  Her literal run-in with Gus Coleman as she ran to catch the bus had her so flustered, she forgot to give Gil his bottle before bed and he woke up crying and hungry at midnight. She fed the baby his formula while he suckled like a greedy little piglet and she daydreamed about that afternoon.

  Not only had Gus Coleman apologized for his clumsiness—while it had been her usual head-down, headlong pace that actually caused the altercation—he had picked up her books and when she glanced up to meet his eyes, he’d asked her name—never mind they’d gone to school together since they were in kindergarten—her name tripped off her tongue and when he repeated it with a bemused smile on his face, she thought she just might faint right there on the spot.

  She’d gone out at lunch with her friend, Mandy—Mandy’s parents were rich and had given her a car for her sixteenth birthday—and was still carrying around her Slurpee as she ran for the bus. Mandy usually drove her home, but she had track practice after school. Which was why many of Molly’s textbooks were now splattered with red frozen slush.

  “Aw, man, let me get you a new one.” Gus tucked her AP English book—A Farewell to Arms—onto the stack she was carrying. “I go right by 7-11 on my way home. Cherry?”

  “Uhhh… I have to go
.” She had just blinked at him, wondering how in the hell he knew she was a virgin, before she realized he was just guessing her Slurpee flavor.

  Molly had rushed onto the bus, finding a seat near the back and crouching down low. He didn’t pursue her and while part of her was grateful, another part of her realized she’d just let maybe the biggest opportunity of her life pass her by. She watched, feeling sick to her stomach, as Gus Coleman’s red Mustang GT rolled by, purring like a cat.

  Gus Coleman had offered her a ride home—and she had refused.

  She put a milk-sleepy Gil back in his crib, still lamenting this fact as she curled up on the couch in front of a re-run of Friends and imagined it all happening differently. What if she’d said yes, instead of running off like a scared rabbit? What if she’d laughed and did that hair-flip thing all the popular girls had perfected—although with her short, bobbed dark hair and glasses, it probably wouldn’t have come across the same way. Her glasses would have flown off and landed under the bus or something, with her luck.

  Even in her imagination, she couldn’t be sexy!

  By the time Faith was sticking her key into the deadbolt, Molly was fast asleep. She heard the key but was in the middle of an incredible dream about Gus Coleman. Her conscious mind couldn’t seem to go there, but her unconscious had no problems, apparently, stripping her naked in front of the only boy she’d had a crush on since their first day of kindergarten. Not only were they naked, but they were kissing and touching and rubbing and oh my God, it all felt so good she thought she might explode with pleasure…

  And then Faith was shaking her gently awake and the image of Gus and his lean, hard body slowly faded to black. Molly could smell the alcohol on Faith’s breath and she opened her eyes to see the older woman’s smiling face, her blond hair a mass of curls, eyes dark and soft, like a doe’s.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Faith slurred, a motherly hand stroking the back of Molly’s cheek. “Some dream?”

  “Huh?” Molly half-sat, flushing a bright, hot red.

  “You were moaning and called out… some guy’s name… Gus?”

  Molly thought she couldn’t turn any redder and Faith laughed at her response, tossing her purse onto the sofa and standing to slip off her heels. Faith’s club attire was always flashy, short and revealing. Her little white and silver slip dress was no exception. It rode high up on her thighs, high enough for Molly to wonder if she was wearing underwear as she bent to undo the straps on her strappy silver heels.

  “So spill!” Faith curled up on the other end of the sofa, her long legs folded under her. “Who’s Gus?”

  “No one.” Molly shook her head vehemently, knowing her answer only made it more obvious.

  “Did he ask you out?” Faith asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Is he cute?”

  “No.” Molly sat, cross-legged in her jeans and t-shirt, on the couch facing Faith. “Well, he kind of asked me to go somewhere with him but I… didn’t. And yes… he’s a hottie.”

  Faith squealed, sounding delighted. “So why didn’t you go out with him?”

  “I don’t know.” Molly pushed her glasses up on her nose. It was the question she’d been asking herself all night. “Because… I guess… I don’t know, Faith. I’m not like you.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Faith raised her fair, delicately arched eyebrows with a smirk.

  “Nothing bad.” Molly flushed. “I’m just not, you know, used to flirting with guys and being…”

  “A slut?” Faith’s eyebrows rose further.

  “I didn’t say that!” The heat in Molly’s cheeks was unbearable.

  “You know, just because a woman likes sex, that doesn’t make her a slut.” Faith leaned over and tucked Molly’s short, dark hair behind her ears. “There shouldn’t be any shame in sex, ever. For any gender.”

  “Do you?” Molly licked her lips, surprised at her own daring. “Like sex, I mean?”

  “Of course.” Faith laughed, throwing her arms wide and leaning back on the couch. She was drunker than usual tonight. “Sex feels good. What’s not to like?”

  “It’s all…” Molly sighed, crossing her arms and sitting back on the couch. “It’s all so complicated. I mean, I like boys. I think about them. You know, kissing and touching and… things.”

  “Things?” Faith snorted, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch, her chin in hand. “Have you ever even kissed a boy?”

  Molly shook her head miserably, meeting the older girl’s eyes.

  “Poor girl.” Faith commiserated. “It all seems complicated, but it’s really very simple.”

  “No it isn’t.” Molly laughed, shaking her head, hair flying. She wished she could hide. Disappear completely. Be invisible. Faith said it wasn’t complicated, that there shouldn’t be any shame in it, but she couldn’t see how. It all felt overwhelming, impossible. The mechanics alone, of what went where, when and how, were enough to make her break out into a cold sweat.

  “Want me to show you?” Faith slid closer to her on the sofa, winding a soft, slender arm around her neck. “Then when he kisses you, you’ll know what to do.”

  “Show… me?” Molly’s breath stopped and so did her heart as she looked into the woman’s beautiful doe eyes. She was so pretty it was almost hard to look at her fully—like looking at the sun. Faith couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like?

  “Like this.” Faith leaned in so close Molly had to close her eyes and when she did, Faith’s lips touched hers.

  It was a light, feathery kiss, a sort of asking—Okay? More? Yes? Faith’s hand moved over her shoulder, pulling her closer, and Molly gasped as their upper bodies pressed together, Faith’s full breasts mashing against her smaller, pert ones. Her gasp gave Faith an opening and she took it, tongue snaking out to lick Molly’s lips, dancing so delightfully in her mouth, she felt it all the way to her toes.

  When they parted, Molly sat, mouth half-open, eyes dazed, brain full and throbbing with the experience. And that wasn’t all that was full and throbbing. The kiss had ignited a spark between her legs that licked at her thighs with heat. She was on fire—everything burned.

  “Did you like it?” Faith breathed. She smelled and tasted like alcohol, something sweet and fruity.

  Molly nodded slowly, unable to deny it.

  “Want me to do it again?”

  Molly nodded again, biting her lip. She did want her to do it again. She wanted it very much.

  Faith tilted Molly’s chin up, eyes searching for the truth. She seemed satisfied with what she saw because she leaned in to capture Molly’s mouth again, her lips impossibly soft, her tongue like pink velvet. It was a strange and wonderful sensation, something Molly had thought about and dreamed of—of course, she’d been thinking about doing this with a boy, not another woman.

  “Is this wrong?” Molly gasped when they parted. Faith’s hands circled her waist, pulling her closer with a little smile.

  “Does it feel wrong?” she whispered, feathering kisses on Molly’s neck, making her shiver.

  Molly didn’t know how to answer that question. Her body certainly didn’t think it was wrong—her nipples hardened like pebbles under her t-shirt, aching to be touched, and the heat between her legs was like an inferno—but her brain was giving her all sorts of mixed messages. She liked Faith, thought she was very pretty, had admired her for a long time. But was she attracted to her? Did she like girls? Did this mean—

  “I’m not a lesbian,” Molly insisted as Faith’s hands moved slowly up her waist.

  “Neither am I.” Faith nuzzled her, running her tongue along Molly’s collarbone. “I’m just showing you how it works.”

  “But…” Molly moaned softly when Faith’s hands moved up to cup the girl’s little breasts in her hands, her thumbs moving back and forth over her hard nipples. “It’s not the same. I mean… as it would be, with a boy.”

  “Not exactly.” Faith smiled, her gaze dipping down to Molly’s chest where she continued petting her nipples thr
ough her shirt. It made Molly feel weak-kneed and dizzy. “But if you’ll let me show you, I bet you’ll be a lot more relaxed with… what was his name again?”

  “Gus?” Molly whispered faintly as Faith pulled her t-shirt up, exposing her bra. She’d almost forgotten about him. Would he kiss her like this? Touch her this way?

  “Your nipples are sensitive aren’t they?” Faith undid Molly’s front-hook bra with one expert motion. Molly had never been naked in front of anyone before, unless you counted her mother, and that was back when she was eight. She felt shy and moved to cover herself, but Faith caught her wrists in her hands.

  “Don’t.” Faith’s gaze skipped up from her breasts to her face, shaking her blonde head. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Me?” Molly blinked in surprise at her words, at the unmistakable look of lust in Faith’s eyes. She’d never felt beautiful in her whole life, but the way Faith looked at her made her feel that way.

  “Come here.” Faith held out her hand and Molly took it, following the older girl down the hallway, past the baby’s room, into Faith’s bedroom. She had a big queen sized bed which took up most of it. Faith sat her on the bed, reaching down to pull off Molly’s t-shirt and bra. Molly let her and didn’t even cover herself as she watched Faith slip her little white dress over her head, answering the question about whether she was wearing a bra or panties underneath.

  She was wearing neither.

  Molly stared in awe and wonder at her body—full breasts with big, pink nipples, her mound shaved completely except for a strip of curly blond fuzz at the top. Her hips were full, her navel pierced, and she had a tattoo on her side of a colorful hummingbird whose bill pointed upward, like he wanted to draw nectar from her breast.

  “Are you scared?” Faith asked, touching her cheek.

  Molly shook her head. She wasn’t afraid, not exactly. Excited, yes. Anticipant. Nervous, maybe. But not afraid.