Holiday

Lindsey met Ashley at her locker amidst the din of four hundred excited girls banging locker doors, slamming books into backpacks, and talking, talking, talking.

“Hey, Ashley,” said Lindsey, glancing around the too-crowded hallway. “C’mere for a minute.” She led the way to an empty classroom, and the girls slipped inside, closing the door behind them.

“What’s up?” Ashley asked, recognizing a certain look on her friend’s face as portending mischief.

“Monday’s Presidents’ Day,” Lindsey replied.

“No duh. I’ve been dreaming of the long weekend all month.”

“Well, listen. My parents don’t get the day off.”

“So?”

“So… the house to myself for about eight hours and the ’rents all the way in the City.”

Ashley caught her drift and grinned. “So you’re planning somethin’. What?”

Lindsey bent over and whispered in Ashley’s ear. “I was thinking… some cuddling and kissing… some petting… some… nice, slow, undressing. And then…” Her voice got even softer. “Lots and lots of… oral sex.”

Ashley pulled away, shocked. “Oh my god! I — I had no idea — you… you and Jeremy were so… y’know… um, advanced.”

Lindsey smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’m not inviting Jeremy. I’m inviting you.”

— Frenulum