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Questions which I had quickly pushed away into hidden recesses of my mind, but now they were back in force. “Come on, slut,” Candice whispered throatily, “now’s the chance to kiss your neighbor’s pretty boobs like you’ve wanted to all the time.” I hesitated and tried to come with a way out. This was going to fast, far faster than my emotions could keep up with. But the greedy, self-assured look in her made something in me shift, and I felt like watching a movie when my head strained against Candice’s strong grip and my lips finally latched on to her nipple, felt the bumpy, incredibly soft surface of her areola and encountered the stiff center. “Good slut,” she whispered with a sigh, her eyelids drooping. My lips and tongue appeared to know exactly what to do. I had never before been intimate with another woman, but it seemed so natural to nibble softly on the crown of her breast, to run my tongue in circles and flicks over the silken skin and to suckle lovingly. My body froze for a. I stood there in Jilly's room, her pretty pink nursery with teddy bear wallpaper, rubbing my tummy, rubbing my tits through my t-shirt, feeling the almost scratchy lace underneath sliding over my nipples, up and down and all around. I just looked at the sleeping little girl and thought it would be so cool if I really was a mommy and Jilly called me that and forgot all about that other woman. Gina. The one that didn't love us anymore.They weren't sexual thoughts, not like real ones, but something else, just ideas flashing through my brain, images and feelings playing like a slide show and going too fast for me to really understand what they were or what they meant. I didn't want to be a mommy, did I? I wanted to be a model and run away and be someone else and never, ever come back to this place or see these people again ... Right?That had been before though. That was the old Amy, the one that Daddy didn't love. The one that Mommy nagged and yelled at and finally slapped hard right.
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