The memory evoked long dormant emotions, and Shannon’s hands floated over her body as she fantasized about the time they had sex in the shower. It was the summer between their junior and senior year. They both had stayed at Mount Holyfield after most of the girls had gone home for the ten-week break. Shannon’s parents were touring Europe, and Caroline was doubling up on courses hoping it would ensure her acceptance at Columbia.

Shannon entered the locker room after finishing a grueling tennis match against the local pro. She hadn’t beat him, but she had come damn near close this time. If that gorgeous woman in the tight shorts hadn’t walked by when she had, she would have caught up to his drop shot. Instead, she was left flat-footed with her mouth practically hanging open and he had won the set and the match.

Sweat droplets dripped off her hair and her clothes were plastered against her body as she approached the locker. The humidity in

• 34 •


Descent

Connecticut was brutal this time of the year and every inch of her was wet. Unlocking the small door, she heard a sound to her left and after drying off her face with her towel, turned to see a gorgeous girl standing not fifteen feet from her. When she looked again Shannon realized that the girl was actually one of her classmates.

Caroline Davis was in several of her classes and they had exchanged a few words now and then and were lab partners for a semester. They were both involved in mountain bike racing and had raced against each other for the past year, but were on different teams. Shannon was in heaven, getting the opportunity to stand close to the hottest girl in school, but Caroline always backed off when Shannon tried to become more than simply friendly. Lesbianism was taboo at the all-girls school, but those that were knew those that were and sex happened in their rooms, closets, empty classrooms, and any other place two young, horny teenagers could find. It was in the deserted locker room when Shannon made her move.

They had danced around their attraction with words and sly looks until Shannon finally took control. Caroline was wrapped in a towel and headed to the showers unaware that Shannon was on her heels.

When she stepped inside the private enclosure, Shannon followed.

Caroline’s eyes went wide with surprise then turned dark, something Shannon came to recognize as desire. When she reached behind her back to lock the thin metal door, Caroline reached for her.

As if it had been choreographed, they came together with lips, hands, fingers, and heat. Shannon spun around, pinning Caroline against the door with her body. Breasts slid against breasts, thighs scissored together, and Shannon could not get enough of the girl who had been the object of her dreams and the source of her frustration for months.

Caroline’s body was every bit as soft and firm as she had imagined.

Her curves were curvy, her muscles hard and defined, and those special womanly places warm and silky. Caroline grabbed her head and pulled her closer when Shannon’s mouth circled one nipple, then the other.

She licked and sucked and ravaged the flesh with passion she never knew she had. She almost came when Caroline said her name.

The banging of a door reminded Shannon that they were not alone and she dragged her mouth off the luscious, full breasts. Quickly turning on the water to drown the sounds of their adventure, she pulled

• 35 •


JuliE CaNNoN

them both into the warm water. Caroline was shorter than she was by about four inches, and when she wrapped her arms around Shannon’s neck and rose up on her toes, Shannon grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her. Caroline got the message and locked her legs around her waist. Shannon bent her knees slightly to support them both.

Shannon’s hand slid down Caroline’s ass and one finger slid easily into her. Caroline took control of her own pleasure and Shannon remembered holding on for the ride. Grinding her crotch into Shannon’s stomach, Caroline’s breasts were inches from Shannon’s mouth and she was not going to let that opportunity go by. Alternately sucking and biting each nipple and sliding her finger in and out of her pussy in tempo to Caroline’s thrusting, it wasn’t long before she felt Caroline stiffen, freeze for just an instant, then climax.

Wave after wave of pleasure rocked through Caroline and Shannon felt every spasm. They were sharing the same experience as if they were one. Shannon’s legs gave out long before Caroline stopped gasping for breath. As much as she didn’t want to, Shannon had to let her down.

Caroline’s soft legs slid down hers until her feet were on the ground, her still pulsing clitoris pressed against Shannon’s thigh.

The laws of physics and lesbianism were such that Caroline’s position put Shannon’s clitoris in direct contact with what she needed to release the pressure inside her that was ready to explode. Caroline must have sensed her hardness because she quickly became the aggressor giving Shannon as much as she got.

Caroline’s mouth was on her neck, her lips, her breasts, and Shannon didn’t know whether to breathe or die. The steam from the water enveloped them like a warm mist. Caroline’s hands roamed her body, often replaced with her lips and teeth as she navigated her way south. Shannon shuddered at the loss of contact against her clit, but when she realized Caroline’s destination, thrust her hips to meet her.

Shannon let her head drop back, savoring the sensation of Caroline’s mouth between her legs. Caroline’s tongue flicked over her clit and Shannon grabbed her hair to keep her there. Faster and faster Caroline flicked, sucked, and licked driving Shannon out of her mind. Her orgasm started soft like the water cascading over her face but climaxed like Niagara Falls, rushing over the edge. She didn’t know if

• 36 •


Descent

she screamed, whispered, or was completely quiet and really didn’t care.

If anyone heard her she would be happy to accept the consequences.

The sound of her own voice echoing off the marble walls in the shower of Room 454 in the Chateau Brodale brought Shannon back to the present. Her body felt as it had that time long ago. Her breathing was rapid, her pulse racing, legs weak, head spinning. She pulled her fingers from between her legs and collapsed on the seat at the end of the enclosure. Catching her breath, Shannon realized what was missing.

Her body was satisfied and full, but because she was alone in the shower, she was empty.

v

The van pulled into the winding drive of the Gite Sur la Bonne Piste, a quaint bed and breakfast located at the base of Mount Brome, or Mont Bro as the locals called it. The house was typical Canadian style with a wide front porch, large windows framing either side of the massive oak front door, and three dormer windows peeking out from the high-pitched roof. The drive was crushed granite and crunched under Caroline’s shoes as she walked to the back of the van to retrieve her bike case.

Rarely did she let anyone carry her bike, preferring to handle the oversize hard case that contained her livelihood herself. The case was fairly easy to maneuver despite its awkwardness, but she depended on its contents that could not easily be replaced. Caroline extended the handle on the black carrier and pulled it behind her up the narrow walkway.

The sign on the front door read Come In in bold cursive burned into a wooden plank. It felt odd not to knock upon entering a house that was not her own, but she reminded herself this was a B&B as she moved into the large front room.

The room was decorated in rustic style with antiques, handcrafts, and paintings giving the room, a cozy, lived-in feel. She had her choice of staying at one of the local hotels but preferred the privacy of the B&B to the noise and commotion she knew would exist in the hotels hosting the other riders.

• 37 •


JuliE CaNNoN

A stand in one corner of the foyer was filled with colorful umbrellas while a coat rack was mounted on the wall to her left. The hardwood floors gleamed up at her while the thick wool runner muffled her footsteps.

“I’ll be right there,” a strong female voice said from the room to her right, and Caroline set her bike case directly under a picture of a snow-covered mountain. As corny as it seemed, the house smelled like fresh-baked cookies.

“Hello, you must be Caroline. I’m Beatrice. Welcome to the cottage,” the woman said practically in one breath.

“Yes, I am, thank you.” Caroline took the hand offered to her.

“Well, come with me and we’ll get you checked in and settled in no time. Just leave your stuff by the door. Michael will bring it up to your room promptly. You’re one of the riders?” Beatrice nodded toward the large case.

“Yes, I am.” Caroline repeated her earlier answer. “You have a lovely place here.” She followed Beatrice across the room. The craftsmanship of the woodwork was evident in the crown molding at the ceiling and on the winding staircase that led to what she assumed were the rooms upstairs.

“Thank you. Michael and I had been thinking of turning the house into a B-and-B for years and in 2002 we took the plunge. It’s our dream come true, you might say.”

Caroline could hardly imagine transforming your personal home into a type of rooming house where you have to make breakfast for everyone every day, make sure the bathrooms were clean all the time, and where strangers roamed through your house of their own free will as a dream come true, as Beatrice phrased it. To her, it sounded like a pain in the ass that could very easily turn into a nightmare.