“Another Open day? Was London not enough for you?”

“But Mum, the whole school is going. It’s just to Belfast for the day. It won’t cost anything. You just have to sign the permission slip.”

Charlotte’s mother sighed with exasperation and scrawled her name on the photocopied slip of paper while muttering about how they hardly seemed to be in school these days.

The next morning, most of the Upper Sixth were gathered in the playground at 7:30 am and being shepherded onto buses chartered for the day to take everyone to the Open Day at Queens University in Belfast. Neither Charlotte nor Emma were remotely interested in any of the courses at Queens but a day off school and a free bus trip to Belfast were reason enough. The plan was simple. Get off the bus at the University, walk in through one entrance and out the other and hit the record shops and Fresh Garbage for some new clothes and be back on the bus at 3 pm and home in time for tea.

They stood in the Good Vibrations record store flicking through the C section, searching for Cure records they didn’t already have. 

“Ten pounds for a 12 inch? Are you taking the piss?”

The guy behind the desk looked up at the 12” extended remix of Boys Don’t Cry that Emma was waving in the air. He shrugged.

“If you don’t want to pay a tenner, someone else will. We don’t hold onto Cure records for very long.”

Charlotte wanted to take the record out of Emma’s hand and walk up to the desk and buy it but her money was limited. She was still trying to buy her guitar back and she’d also just seen a poster on the wall.

“Emma, where’s the Ulster Hall?”

“It’s just around the corner,” the guy behind the desk offered.

“Why?” Emma queried.

“Look. The Mission are playing there in February, as part of the Deliverance Tour. We should go.”

“How are we going to afford that? Plus there won’t be any buses running to it. They only run a bus for big gigs.”

Charlotte sighed. 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

After another forty-five minutes browsing through the album stacks and coveting everything from The Cure to the Sisters of Mercy, with the Mission and Fields of the Nephilim in between, they reluctantly headed down the road to Fresh Garbage. Charlotte had loved shopping here during the summer with Fiona and was determined to show Emma just how cool it was. 

Emma headed off to the changing room with a handful of tops and dresses to try on. Charlotte was trying to decide which flavour of joss stick she should buy when the bell above the door jingled and a familiar face walked in. Charlotte looked up just in time to make eye contact with the black-haired girl in the doorway. The girl smiled and Charlotte could see her trying to place where she knew Charlotte from.

“Oh hi, you. We met in Lavery’s during the summer. You’re Charlotte, aren’t you? I hardly recognised you.”

It all came flooding back. She was the girl who had taken pity on her when Fiona had disappeared for ages in the bar.

“Hi, Chloe?”

The girl stepped forward and hugged Charlotte.

“So nice to see you again. I presume you’re here for the Open Day.”

Charlotte grimaced. They had been ordered to wear their school uniforms and Charlotte died a thousand deaths inside as she saw Chloe appraising the yellow blouse and brown jumper and skirt ensemble. 

Charlotte grinned. “It’s an anti-boyfriend design. They make us look so fucking ugly no one will touch us.”

Chloe smiled and leant in closer. 

“I don’t think it works.”

“Ah hmmm.” A very loud cough from the direction of the changing rooms interrupted them.

They turned to see Emma wearing a leather and lace gothic dress.

“What do you think?”

“I like it,” Chloe told her. “Very Patricia Morrison.”

Emma cursed in frustration and stomped off back to the changing room. Everyone used to say how much Fiona looked like Patricia Morrison from the Sisters of Mercy and Emma hated anyone ever saying she looked like her sister.

Charlotte and Chloe watched her go, then Chloe nodded at the poster for the Mission’s gig in the Ulster Hall that was blu-tacked to the window.

“Are you going?”

Charlotte sighed.

“I’d love to, but Emma doesn’t think there’ll be any buses running and I don’t know anyone who lives here so… I don’t think so.”

“I live here.”

Chloe shrugged as she looked at Charlotte.

“I’m sure I could fit you on my sofa or wherever for one night.”

She dug around in the pockets of her coat then pulled out a notebook and scrawled her name and phone number on it.

“Take it anyway. You never know when you might need it.”

She smiled when Charlotte took the piece of paper.

“Anyway, I only called in to take my friend to lunch so see you later, maybe.”

Charlotte watched as a tall girl with blonde hair came out of the back of the shop, kissed Chloe on the cheek and the two of them headed off, arm in arm down the street. Emma came back, having decided that she didn’t like any of the clothes so the two of them trudged back to the university to meet up with the rest of their class.

Charlotte stared out of the window of the bus as it headed home through the rain. She had liked meeting Chloe again. She remembered how nice she’d been to her that time in the bar and she did look very cute with her upturned nose, big brown eyes and long black hair. But Fiona was going to be home for Christmas soon and at the thought of her, Chloe disappeared out of Charlotte’s head.

Charlotte marked another day off the calendar. No days left. Fiona would be arriving home in the next couple of hours. The postcards from London had dried up over the past few weeks but Charlotte figured that was just because Fiona’s college life had got a lot busier. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her fingers slowly traced a line down her neck and over the tee-shirt she wore as a nightshirt. Just thinking about Fiona had already made her nipples hard and a soft moan escaped her lips as her finger traced the outline of the nipple poking through the material.

She glanced at the clock. She’d another ten minutes or so before she needed to get up. She bit her lip and lifted her hips, quickly pulling down the black cotton panties she’d slept in and spread her legs open with the panties around her ankles. Her fingers crept down below the hem of her tee-shirt and over her smattering of brown curls. 

She knew she was soaked already. She’d woken up thinking about Fiona. When she dragged her middle finger through her slit, the little bursts of pleasure caused her legs to close and press her knees together. She pictured Fiona kneeling between her legs, she could visualise Fiona dragging the flat of her tongue along her dripping pussy and swirling it around and around her aching throbbing clit. 

“I’m such a needy little bitch,” Charlotte whimpered to herself as she pushed two fingers inside. The heel of her palm ground against her clit as she imagined Fiona taking her, fucking her, using her. The thought of Fiona smearing her cum over Charlotte’s face as Fiona rode her bound body was too much and Charlotte greedily fucked herself to orgasm before her Mum could bang on the door to tell her to get up.

Charlotte licked her fingers clean before rolling out of bed and stepping out of her panties. She pulled on her school uniform and contemplated the plan for that evening. With a half-day at school, there was plenty of time to get ready before heading to the gig in the Alleyman’s and with everyone coming home for the Christmas holidays it promised to be a good night meeting up with them all.

The last class of the morning was Art and the teacher had recognised that he was not going to get much work out of them so he told them they could work on their sketchbooks but as long as the noise didn’t get too loud, they could talk among themselves. Emma and Charlotte were busy discussing plans for the evening when Deirdre appeared at their table.

“Err… Hi.”

Emma slowly raised her head. Emma and Deirdre had been friends for years before they’d fallen out. It had started over Charlotte sleeping with Emma’s sister, Fiona. Then Emma had chosen to ask Charlotte for help as she didn’t want Deirdre to find out about the abortion she’d had. As a result, Deirdre had cut all ties with the pair of them.

“Hi, Deirdre. You alright?”

Deirdre stood looking really uncomfortable, twisting a pencil between her fingers.

“I’ve missed you, both of you.”

Emma stuck out her foot and pushed a stool towards her.

“Have a seat,” she said, smiling.

Charlotte rang the doorbell of Emma and Fiona’s house. Their Mum answered and just nodded for her to go on upstairs. Emma and Deirdre were already in Emma’s room and the smell of hairspray would knock you out. Charlotte got a flashback to her first weekend in Strabane and waited expectantly for Fiona to stick her head into the room, much like she had that time before.

“Just like old times,” Deirdre smiled as she handed Charlotte a bottle of cider. Since it was snowing outside, they’d decided to risk drinking in Emma’s room rather than freezing their tits off hiding down the industrial estate drinking their carry-out booze before heading to the pub.

“So,” Charlotte wondered. “Did Fiona get back ok?”

Emma snorted. “Yeah, she’s back but acting as weird as fuck.” She shrugged. “She’s away out at the minute but said she might see us in the bar later.”

Charlotte nibbled her fingernail as she wondered what might happen if Micheál and Fiona were both in the bar. ‘Fuck,’ she thought. ‘Why couldn’t Fiona have been here so they could have reunited in private.’

The blast of heat when they opened the door of the Alleyman’s bar was like a furnace. They had staggered and slid their way along the road, cursing the council for not salting the roads or footpaths. The snow had stopped but the temperature had dropped and the girls giggled and clung to each other to stop themselves from slipping as they headed to the bar.

Once inside, Charlotte scanned the room. There was no sign of Fiona but she saw Micheál and Stephen and a couple of other heads talking by the poker machines. The night of the Formal, when Micheál managed to get cum in Charlotte’s eye and on her borrowed dress was still fresh in Charlotte’s mind as she watched Micheál make his way over. 

She knew it was now or never. With Fiona back for the best part of three weeks, Charlotte knew she wanted to spend every available minute with her and Micheál would just get in the way. There was nothing for it, she was going to have to tell him.

She hated this. She was a natural coward and hated confrontation. Back in Liverpool, she would usually slowly become disinterested until the other person gave up and disappeared on her. She didn’t have time for this trick here.

She had practised the line in her head. “Micheál, I think we should finish.” It sounded so cold and she still couldn’t think of a good reason why. She had thought “Because you came all over my face” was a contender but that wasn’t really his fault but she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. While “Actually, Micheál, I’m a muff diving lesbian and I want to spend Christmas fucking my amazingly talented and gorgeous girlfriend” might be true, she didn’t think Micheál was ready to hear that.

Fuck, he was coming over. Charlotte took a swift drink of the cider and blackcurrant and prepared herself.

“Hey, Micheál.” she smiled at him but he was looking serious. 

“I’m sorry Charlotte but can I talk to you.”

Charlotte got a mild panic attack thinking somehow he knew already.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“I’m sorry, but I think we should finish.”

“What?” Charlotte was so confused she couldn’t help herself. “What do you mean... You want to finish it?”

Micheál blushed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I, um, well… There’s someone else.”

Even though this was exactly what she wanted, Charlotte couldn’t help but look this gift horse in the mouth.

“Who is she? What’s wrong, Micheál? Is a blowjob not enough? Should I have spread my legs for you? Is that what you wanted?”

Micheál looked more and more embarrassed.

“It’s not like that. It was just bad timing. I shouldn’t have asked you out. I wasn’t over Dearbhla.”

Charlotte saw red.

“Dearbhla Donnelly? You’re back with that little slut. Not content with breaking you and Deirdre up, she has to break you and me up too?”

“It’s not like that,” Micheál tried to protest but Charlotte was on a roll.

“Just fuck off then, Micheál,” Charlotte spat at him as Emma and Deirdre slowly dragged her away.

Charlotte sat, a pint glass clenched in her hand, playing the wounded victim to perfection. She couldn’t believe her luck. Emma and Deirdre launched a full-scale character assassination on Dearbhla and Micheál, letting everyone within earshot know just what a little slut she was.

Fiona didn’t come into the bar. Last orders had been and gone. Charlotte waited until the barman had wedged both doors open to get an arctic wind blowing through the bar to shift the last few customers before reluctantly accepting that she wasn’t going to see Fiona.

The three of them trudged back to their estate through the smattering of snow which was starting to turn to slush already. 

“I hate the snow here,” Deirdre complained “You never even get a chance to make a snowman or anything.”

Just then, a lump of freezing ice and impacted snow struck Charlotte just behind the ear.

“Fucking freaks.”

The insults rained down on them along with the snowballs as a bunch of kids ambushed them on both sides. The girls ran for it, slipping, sliding but finally making it to cover, hiding behind the burnt-out garage at the edge of the estate. 

It was the perfect shitty end to a shitty evening, Charlotte reflected once home as she peeled off her coat and rubbed a towel through her hair.

Her first lie in of the holidays was rudely interrupted the next morning when her Mum shouted up the stairs that Fiona was at the door. Charlotte sprang out of bed and quickly pulled on a tee-shirt and pair of jeans before attempting an air of nonchalance as she slowly walked down the stairs.

“Oh, hi, Fiona. I heard you were back.”

Charlotte was determined not to show how desperate she was to see Fiona but the facade crumbled as soon as Fiona smiled at her.

The two girls hugged as Fiona whispered in Charlotte’s ear; “I’ve missed you so much and want to fuck you till you scream.”

Charlotte blushed and stammered, unable to think straight as Fiona’s words bypassed her brain and made their way directly to her clit.

“Anyway,” Fiona continued as she grinned at Charlotte. “Mum and Dad have taken everyone else into Derry to do some last-minute Christmas shopping so I wondered if you fancied coming round to hang out at mine for a few hours?”

Charlotte swallowed. A million thoughts rampaged through her mind, most of them x-rated.

“Um.. yeah... Sure.” She tugged at her tee-shirt. “I’ll just go change.”

Fiona laughed and shook her head.

“No need. You can cum just as you are.”

“I’m just going to brush my teeth,” Charlotte announced then turned and ran back upstairs and into the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, she couldn’t help slipping a hand inside her knickers. She was soaked already and only from talking to Fiona. What was she going to be like by the time she got to her house?

As soon as Fiona closed and locked the front door, she turned and advanced on Charlotte. She took her in her arms and kissed her passionately. Charlotte melted into the kiss. Her arms ran up and down Fiona’s back. Then, just as suddenly as she had kissed her, Fiona stopped and took a step back.

“Give me your coat.” Fiona held her hand out and waited for Charlotte to shrug off her parka. Charlotte watched as Fiona hung both coats on the hall coat rack.

“Let’s go to my room.”

Charlotte turned and headed up the stairs, past Emma’s room where she usually hung out, and on to Fiona’s room at the end of the corridor.

Fiona closed the door behind her and leant against it, watching Charlotte through hooded eyes. 

“Strip, Charlotte.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Strip. I want to see you naked.”

Charlotte blushed bright red. It wouldn’t be the first time Fiona had seen her naked but it felt so cold, stripping whilst Fiona stood there and watched.

“I’m waiting.”

Charlotte nodded and slowly tugged her tee-shirt up. She hadn’t put a bra on in her hurray to get dressed earlier and she knew Fiona could see just how hard her nipples were as she tugged the grey cotton over her head.

“Now the jeans.”

Charlotte looked into Fiona’s eyes as she unfastened the button on her jeans. She watched Fiona lick her lips as she slid the denim down her thighs. She balanced precariously on one leg as she untied her trainers and managed to tug the jeans over her ankles and step out of first one leg, then the other.

She stood, her hands clasped lightly in front of her, covering the crotch of her pink panties, aware that there was a wet patch on them already.

Fiona sighed and ran her hand down her chest, fingertips tracing the curve of her breast. Fiona looked as good as ever in her long black shirt and tie-dyed leggings. She had kicked off her army boots at the front door and Charlotte noticed the purple nail polish on the big toe sticking out of a hole in her sock.

“Now the panties.”

There was something so erotically charged about being forced to strip whilst Fiona remained fully clothed. Charlotte felt like she was a plaything. Something for Fiona to look at. She hooked her thumbs in the elasticated waistband and slowly peeled them away from her sticky crotch. She knew Fiona was watching, knew she could see the puddle of pussy juice in her panties and the strand of goo connecting her to them. She tugged them down to her knees then let them fall in a heap around her ankles. She stepped out of them then raised her head to look Fiona in the eyes.

“Good girl.”

The words affected Charlotte so much. She felt a rush of pleasure that Fiona was pleased with her. She put her hands behind her back and watched as Fiona pushed herself off the door. Fiona slowly walked around Charlotte, appraising her from all angles. She stood behind her and leant in, her breath warm on Charlotte’s neck as she whispered, “You are mine, Charlotte. Do you understand?”

Charlotte nodded as she managed to whisper “Yes, Fiona.” 

She whimpered as she felt Fiona’s fingers trace a line up her arm and round to cup her breast. Charlotte felt her nipple harden as Fiona smeared it with her thumb.

“It’s Miss or Miss Fiona. Do you understand?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes, Miss Fiona.”

Fiona’s fingers tugged the soft pink marshmallow nipple as it quickly hardened. Charlotte groaned. She felt her nipples were hot-wired to her clit and this simple tease was making her squirm on the spot. Fiona’s fingers dropped and traced across Charlotte’s stomach. She smirked as Charlotte pulled her stomach in. Fiona’s fingers cupped her mound. 

“So wet already, Charlotte. And we haven’t even started yet.” 

Charlotte didn’t trust herself to answer as she felt Fiona’s middle finger slide between her labia. Her lips were already slick with her juices. Fiona pressed herself against Charlotte’s back. The girl squirmed as Fiona’s finger explored her folds.

Fiona held her finger up in front of Charlotte. They both could see Charlotte’s juices glistening on it. Fiona dabbed the heady goo on Charlotte’s neck like perfume.

“This is your new scent. Eau du putain.” She paused. “You do speak French, don’t you?”

Charlotte blushed even more as she whispered, “Yes, Miss.”

“What does it mean, my little fucktoy?”

Charlotte blushed again.

“The scent of a whore, Miss.”

“Good girl, now be a good little whore and get down on your knees and you can show me just how good you can be”

Fiona stepped back to watch as Charlotte lowered herself down onto her knees. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the red lacy bra underneath. Charlotte noticed the black studded collar around Fiona’s neck.

“I like the collar. Very punk rock.”

Fiona blushed a little and ran her index finger along it before reaching down to peel off her leggings. The matching red thong looked so good against Fiona’s pale skin.

Fiona leant back against the dressing table, spreading her legs, revealing a very visible wet patch on her red knickers.

“Crawl to me.”
Charlotte slowly began to crawl, not breaking eye contact as, hips undulating, she slowly covered the distance across the bedroom floor. She kissed her way up Fiona’s leg, her lips tracing a path towards the soft skin of Fiona’s inner thigh.

She paused to stare at the triangle of damp cotton. She licked her lips then leant in, tongue outstretched to taste. Her fingers gripped the elastic and slowly tugged them down, revealing a triangle of dark brown curls. She buried her nose in them, inhaling the scent; musky and intoxicating. Charlotte dragged the flat of her tongue along Fiona’s slit from perineum to clit, her tongue flickering over the swollen pearl.

She felt Fiona’s fingers grip her hair as her face was pressed into Fiona’s hot wet pussy. Charlotte moved her face from side to side as her tongue dipped, licked and flickered over clit and cunt. Charlotte’s fingers gripped Fiona’s arse as she rolled her tongue into a tube and pushed it into Fiona’s wet velvet. Fiona rode Charlotte’s face. Her fingers snaked their way through Charlotte’s hair. She tugged and pulled, guiding Charlotte’s face as if Charlotte was purely a masturbatory aid and didn’t stop until with a strangled cry, Fiona threw her head back and came all over Charlotte’s face.

Charlotte drank and drank. She felt the sweet sticky honey smear over her mouth and chin. Her tongue scooped as much as she could into her mouth as Fiona shuddered and spasmed above her. Finally, Fiona pulled Charlotte’s face away from her. She looked down at the girl kneeling before her and grinned.

“We are going to have so much fucking fun today.”