The Notebook, Part One

By Ebo

Can I talk to you a minute?”

Fresh off the school bus, Dana Harris had barely made it in the door when she heard those words. She saw her step-mother leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen. The woman had a glass of wine in her hand, looked like it might not be the first one she had had today.

Frowning,“About what?”

“Go put up your backpack. I'll be in the kitchen,” she said, turning into the room.

Dana blinked after her, wondered what in the world she wanted to talk about. Shrugging, she went upstairs, dumped her backpack on her bed. She kicked out of her shoes, then headed for the bathroom. Business taken care of, she headed back down to see what her step-mother wanted.

Coming into the kitchen she saw the woman at the island, sipping her glass of wine. Dana came to a halt when she saw the notebook with the fuzzy kitten cover sitting on the counter top, her stomach sinking around her knees. She couldn't draw a breath passed the knot of fear in her throat and she felt hot with adrenaline.

“Have a seat before you fall down,” her step-mother said, coming to her side. Dana let herself be led to the center island, sat on one of the stools.

The damning notebook was right in front of her. She looked down at the fuzzy kitten, thought the end of her life shouldn't look so cute.

Her step-mother went to the cabinet, turned around with a second wine glass in her hand. She sat it in front of Dana, then poured about two inches of deep red wine. Dana looked at the glass, then at her step-mother. The woman only smiled, sat down across from her.

“Where do we begin,” she said, sipping her wine, “I guess we should start with the notebook.”

Dana thought she was going to throw up.

“You really needed a better hiding place than your desk drawer,” the woman said, pulling the notebook in front of her. She opened it and started flipping pages.

Dana could see the paragraphs penned on the pages and her shoulders fell. They were just too heavy with guilt to hold up anymore.

“Then again,” her step-mother said, still flipping pages, “I wouldn't have known to look for the notebook if not for the snooper program your father had me install on your computer.”

Gasping, Dana finally met her step-mother's eyes. As damning as the notebook was, her browsing history was even worse. She could hear the executioner grinding his ax.

“Lucky for you,” the woman said, smiling at Dana, “your father is a bit of a dummy when it comes to computers. I was able to fudge the reports enough to cover your tracks.”

Dumbfounded, Dana said, “My tracks?” “Oh, you probably thought you were being clever when you deleted your browser history but that wouldn't fool the program. Or even me, if I decided to snoop. What teenaged girl didn't have a browser history a mile long on her computer?”

Her step-mother was still smiling, her tone friendly. It completely baffled Dana. Surely she had seen what she was browsing, must have read the things in the notebook. Why wasn't she being yelled at? She should be in so much trouble right now.

“We'll come back to that, though,” she said, then pointed at the glass of wine, “you can drink that if you need to. You look about ready to jump out of your skin if I said 'boo'.”

“Drink it? It's wine,” Dana said, looking at the thick red liquid.

Her step-mother only smiled at her, went on, “I was reading the report from your computer. I was a little surprised how many of the sites I recognized.”

Blinking, Dana parroted, “Recognized?”

She laughed and said, “You know, your father was convinced you were on drugs. You've been so secretive lately, caged off. He was certain you were getting high. I guess you were in a way, just on a drug of a different kind.”

“What are you talking about,” Dana said, frowning. This whole conversation had a surreal feel to it, wasn't going anything like she had expected.

Her step-mother must have found what she was looking for, because she stopped flipping pages.Turning the notebook, she pushed it in front of Dana. Finishing off her wine, she got up and poured more into her glass. Leaning against the sink, she said, “One site in particular grabbed my attention. Can you guess which one?”

She shook her head. How could she possibly know which one of the websites she frequented her step-mother recognized? The fact that she knew any of them was a bit of a revelation. She wouldn't have guessed the woman was the type.

“Lesbian Lolita,” her step-mother said, still leaning against the sink, “a collection of lovely stories about under aged girls and their lesbian experiences.”

The phrase 'lovely stories' messed with her brain, spun around and around without finding purchase. Her step-mother thought stories about young girls having sex with other young girls or older women was 'lovely'?

“There is this new author whose been posting stories, goes by the name Dfox,” her step-mother said

Dana gasped, her eyes growing wide. Did the woman know? Had she figured it out?

“I'm quite fond of the stories Dfox writes. I've read every one she has posted,” the woman said, sipping her wine, “one story in particular always got to me. I must have read it a dozen times since she posted it. It is a sexy little tale called...”

“The Next Door Neighbor,” Dana said, reading the title of the story in front of her.

“The Next Door Neighbor,” her step-mother confirmed.

She'd never been drunk before, only knew the effects of alcohol from what she had seen on TV but she needed sosomething now. Anything. She picked up the glass and took a healthy swallow, grimacing at the bitter taste.

Laughing, her step-mother said, “Don't worry. The second one always tastes better.”

The second gulp was just as bitter as the first but the warmth it ignited in her belly was nice. She found the courage to look at her step-mother, tried to read her expression. She didn't know what to make of the curious look the woman was favoring her with.

“So you really are Dfox?”

“Yeah,” Dana said, waiting to see what happened next.

The woman ran her hand through her hair and laughed nervously, “Wow, this is so messed up.”

Dana raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Blushing, her step-mother said, “Do me a favor and finish your glass?” “Why?”

“Trust me, you are going to need it,” her step-mother said, finishing off her own.

Something told her to listen to the woman and she finished the glass in a few swallows. The fire in her belly was spreading and she was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges. She sat the empty glass on the table, frowned when her step-mother poured the last of the bottle into it.

She was only thirteen and thin, didn't even weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. One glass of wine was already going to her head. She didn't think she'd need another.

“I wasn't kidding when I said I like your writing,” her step-mother said, sitting down, “it reminds me a little of another writer on the site, Penny For Your Thoughts.”

Dana gasped in surprise, hearing the name of her favorite author said out loud. She loved the woman's work, had read everything she had posted. Penny For Your Thoughts's stories were the whole reasons she started writing in the first place.

She was flattered her step-mother compared her to the woman, even if she didn't see it.

“Your stories are like the flip side of hers, told through the eyes of the girl instead of the woman's,” her step-mother said, smiling at her, “the ying to her yang.”

“You really think so? I love her stories,” Dana said, blushing when the woman gave her a look, “she is my favorite author.” “Did you know Ann is actually my middle name,” her step-mother asked, ringing her hands nervously.

Frowning, Dana said, “No.”

“I didn't think so,” she said, meeting her eyes, “I never use my first name, think it is goofy.”

“What is it,” Dana asked, getting the feeling she might already know. She just couldn't believe it was true.

“Penelope,” she said, shaking her head, “my friends used to call me Penny, for short.”

It was a good thing she was sitting down because that little bit of information would have floored her. She stared at the woman, stunned by the turn of events.

“You are Penny For Your Thoughts?”

Standing up, Penny said, “Come on. I want to give you something.”

Dana got to her feet, giggling at how funny her legs felt. She followed the woman out of the kitchen and upstairs. She kept a death grip on the handrail, not completely trusting her balance at the moment. They went to the master bedroom and Penny opened the walk-in closet. Standing on tippy toes, she fished something off the top shelf. Dana saw it was satchel of some sort when she turned back around.

Penny held it out to her, said, “Be sure to hide this better than you hid your notebook.”

“What is it?”

“My old laptop,” her step-mother said, smiling at her.

“You are giving me your laptop?”

“Well, you can't write on your own, can you?”

“Write,” she parroted, more than a little surprised.

Laughing, her step-mother put a hand on her shoulder and slurred, “I'm a horrible step-mother, I know, but I'm a huge fan of your writing. I've been burning through batteries like crazy reading your stories.”

That startled a laugh from Dana and she blushed at the mental image it conjured in her mind. The thought of her step-mother masturbating while reading one of her stories was a little weird. It made her smile though, hearing her writing was being appreciated. Really, really appreciated from the sound of it.

“Sorry, that was inappropriate,” she said and Dana got the feeling she wasn't sorry, at all.

“It's okay. I'll take it as a compliment,” she said, laughing.

“Good,” she said, nodding, “Go put that up somewhere and come downstairs. We have much to talk about, you and I.”

--------------------------------------------

Stretched out on her bed, Dana hoped the room would stop spinning. Her one glass of wine had became four, which was probably two more than she should have had. Still, she had to smile. She had just had the coolest, weirdest and most inappropriate conversation she'd ever had with an adult. She had gotten drunk for the first time. And she had met her favorite author. Not too shabby for a Thursday afternoon.

“Crazy,” she said out loud, giggling at how slurred her voice sounded.

She and her step-mother- no, Penny, as she wanted to be called when her father wasn't around- had talked about stories they liked, about ideas they had. It had been kind of awkward at first, talking about such dirty things with her step-mother but the wine loosened her up and she got surprisingly comfortable with the woman. She talked about her writing, how she found Lesbian Lolita, how Penny's stories had inspired her to write. It was a real bonding moment.

Giggling, she sat up and looked at the laptop on the bed beside her. She kind of wanted to write but she didn't think she had the motor skills for it right now. That thought made her giggle some more.

“I'm drunk,” she slurred, shaking her head. She never expected her first time being inebriated would be with her step-mother.

She pulled the laptop onto her thighs, opened it. Nothing happened when she tried to turn it on, the battery dead from being put up for so long. She set the computer aside, located the power cord and got some juice flowing into the old beast. It powered on this time when she hit the On button.

As she waited for it to go through its warm up process, she touched the keys, wondered if Penny had ever written some of her sexy stories on this laptop. It was possible; Penny For Your Thoughts had been writing for Lesbian Lolita for a long time, had a list of stories a mile long. It made her smile, thinking she would be writing on the same computer her favorite author had.

The computer was finally ready and she accessed the wifi network set up in the house. A few minutes later, she was on the internet, heading for Lesbian Lolita. When the familiar pink background loaded, she felt her pulse quicken, as it always did when she was here. Checking out the new story section, she saw her latest submission had posted.

A naughty shiver worked through her as she saw her handle- Kfox- on the screen. Her kinky little story was out there in the world for everyone to see and that was thrilling. She wondered what her readers would think if they knew she was a thirteen thirteen year old girl.

Giggling, she opened her email account in another tab, not her personal one but the one she gave to Lesbian Lolita. Something had told her to be careful, hence the second email. The story had only been up hours but already she had three emails from readers. She smiled when she recognized all three, regular readers she loved to death.

The name at the top of the list made her heart skip a beat and her face flushed with excitement. The woman had started emailing her shortly after she started posting and they had become friends. Lately, the emails had become more than just friendly. They had been getting increasingly flirty, sexy. Dana was usually blushing by the time she finished reading them, her heart racing.

She wondered if the woman felt the same, reading the messages she had written. Was she turned on as Dana when she read the things Dana wrote?

She wanted to open that email first, but she made herself open the other two first. She had to smile and giggle excitedly as she read the praise being heaped on her by her fans. It was this kind of response that kept her returning to her keyboard even when the story had become mired down. These people were the reason she kept pushing until the story started rolling, again. She loved every one of them.

Sending them a short thank you, she felt as light as feather. With that done, she moved onto her bed, put her back against the headboard. Looking at the last email on the list, she felt a shiver work up her spine. Taking a deep breath, she opened the email:

Hey kiddo. It's your step-mom. Surprise...

“Oh, shit,” she said, her hand going to her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared at those three tiny sentences. She sobered up in a hurry as she re-read them, again, and just what they meant sank in.

The woman she had been flirting with, been sending increasingly sexual messages to, the woman she fantasized about in the dark... Was her step-mother. Her face colored as she thought about the things Penny had said to her, wanted to do to her. Then it turned even deeper red as she remembered all the things she had written back.

There was more to the message, so she kept reading:

You are probably freaking out like I did when I realized what we'd done. I had no idea it was you. Not until I found your notebook. I don't know what to say right now. I should probably say I'm sorry but that seems like it would make it worse, somehow...

Dana ran her hand through her hair, nervously. She didn't know what to think, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Should her step-mother be sorry? She had thought she was talking to another adult. If anyone should be sorry, it was her. She had lied to the lied to the woman, after all.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to pretend to be a woman and not just a girl. She wasn't sure she would have been able to post her stories if she wasn't an adult. When the emails started rolling in, she just let the readers assume she was an adult. She was a little shocked and amused by what people would say to her when they didn't know she was a kid. Up until then, she hadn't been aware of the filter adults used when talking to children.

Some of the things her readers said, she had to look up on the internet. She had learned a lot, maybe too much.

Biting her lower lip, she kept reading:

I need a little bit of time to figure out how I feel about all of this. I'm sure you do, too. We'll sit down sometime and talk aboutabout what to do. Unfortunately, life doesn't have a rewind button so we can't go back to the world before I found your notebook, so we'll just have figure out how to go forward from here.

PS: Love the new story. Hope to see more of the new girl.

That last bit made her smile. Even after all this, her step-mother had taken the time to read her new story.

---------------------------------------------------

Sighing, Dana decided the Sandman wasn't coming anytime soon. She had turned out the lights an hour ago and she was no closer to getting to sleep now than she had been then. Her mind wouldn't switch off. Not surprising really. She had a lot to process after a day like today.

She rolled onto her back, stared up at the ceiling. The breeze outside stirred the oak tree by her window. She watched its shadow sway on the ceiling, the tree back lit by the street lamp across the street.

Right now, her thoughts were a tangled mess and she knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep until she untangled them. Sighing, she picked one thought and started tugging, hoping the knots would slip.

My step-mother knows I write lesbian erotica, she thought, figuring it was as good a place to start as any. She had known it was a possibility, someone finding out. It kind of gave a naughty thrill to the writing. More than once, she had wondered what it would be like, getting caught.

It hadn't gone anything like she had expected. No angry lectures. No groundings.

She had lucked out; her step-mother is as kinky as she was. What were the odds that the woman being Penny For Your Thoughts? Astronomical, Dana was sure. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that her favorite author was sleeping down the hall from her.

Or lying awake like me, she thought, figuring that was probably the case. After all, Penny had just as much to think about as she did.

Like dominoes falling, her thoughts tumbled to her email tryst. Not for the first time, she blushed as she thought about all the dirty things she had said to her step-mother. Would it be hard to look the woman in the eyes in the morning? She had avoided her after reading the email but she couldn't avoid her forever.

Something she hadn't thought of before dawned on her and she felt a twinge of loss. There would be no more sexy emails. It had been fun and exciting, the exchange of naughty messages. More than once, she had masturbated while reading them. Now, that was over.

Bummed out, she sighed.

“I'll just have to find someone else to send dirty emails to,” she said, out loud. She snorted, shook her head. She didn'thave the first clue how to start up that sort thing with another person. It just sort of happened with her step-mother.

Sighing, she gave up on sleeping. Her mind wasn't going to let her. Reaching under her bed, she found her step-mother's old laptop, pulled it out. She glanced at the door to her room, hesitated with the screen still closed. Finally, she gave in and opened it, figuring everyone else was probably asleep by now. The bright screen stung her eyes and she had to look away until they adjusted to the glare.

When she could finally look at the screen, she opened her email account. No new emails. Sighing, she started to close out the window, then clicked on the last email from her stepmother's old laptop, pulled it out. She glanced at the door to her room, hesitated with the screen still closed. Finally, she gave in and opened it, figuring everyone else was probably asleep by now. The bright screen stung her eyes and she had to look away until they adjusted to the glare.

When she could finally look at the screen, she opened her email account. No new emails. Sighing, she started to close out the window, then clicked on the last email from her step-mother. She read it again, clicked on 'Reply'.

What do I want to say, she wondered, staring at the blank text box. The flashing cursor had her mesmerized. Putting her fingers on the proper keys, she typed the first thing that came to mind:

Is it wrong that I'm going to miss our email sessions?

She stared at that single sentence, not sure if she really wanted to send it. It was the truth, of course. She wondered how her step-mother would take it, if she sent her this message. Would she think Dana wanted to do something in real life?

Would I do something in real life, she thought, frowning. She'd never thought about her step-mother that way before. She'd been in her life for seven years now and, while she'd never be her real mother, she was family. She loved her.

Closing her eyes, now, she pictured her step-mother. There was no denying Penny was an attractive woman. She was a brunette, her hair worn long and straight, with beautiful blue eyes that seemed to shine in her dark complexion. Slender and and leggy, she looked good in jeans or a skirt. Or just about anything, really.

If she wasn't married to Dana's father, it would be an easy question.

She looked at the Enter button on the keyboard, biting her lower lip. She lightly caressed it with her index finger, wondered if she dared to press it. Her heart raced as she put a little pressure on the key, but not quite enough to make the contact that would trigger the email to send.

“This is stupid,” she said, pulling her hand away. The right thing to do was to just let the email thing she had had with her step-mother die, to mourn its passing and move on. She knew that.

Sighing, she went to close her email and noticed she had a new message before she finger clicked the mouse. She didn't save her draft, just opened the new email. It was from her step-mother, or, more accurately, her email handle, and it simply read:

Is it wrong that I'm going to miss our email sessions?

She gasped, her eyes wide. It was word for word what she wanted to ask her step-mother. She felt a flush of excitement color her cheeks and she smiled. She wasn't the only one lying awake, missing what they had had.

Clicking in the reply box, she typed :Probably, :). But I will, too. Jittery with nervous energy, she hit ENTER and the message was sent.

Oh, God, she thought, shaking her head, I'm flirting with my step-mother!

--------------------------------------------------------

Her alarm went off way too early and she drug herself mumbling out of bed. A hot shower woke her up, but she still felt wrung out. She had no idea when she finally fell asleep last night, only that it was late.

Getting out of the shower, she dried off, then wrapped the towel around her still damp body. She tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper, then left the bathroom.

In her room, she pulled the laptop from under the bed, opened her email account. Her pulse quickened as she saw she had a new message. She clicked on her inbox, sure it was from her step-mother. Her shoulders fell when she saw it was just an email from one of her fans. She'd never been disappointed by an email from a reader before, which told her how much she had wanted it to be from Penny.

She sighed, closed the laptop without reading the message, slid it under the bed. Straightening up, she made a mental note to find a better hiding place for it. She'd learned her lesson after her step-mother found her notebook.

Dropping the towel, she went to her dresser for underwear and a bra. She hesitated, turned to the mirror on the back of her closet door. Looking at her naked reflection, she saw she was looking more and more like her mother everyday. Her mother had had an athletic build from running track in college and Dana was taking after her. Her legs were long and finally filling in, her hips more feminine and full, her belly flat and taut, her breasts small and high.

Seeing more of her mother in her reflection made tears sting her eyes. It had been almost nine years since the car crash took her away from Dana but she still missed her. She had been so young, the last time she saw the woman, but how she'd loved her. It made her heart ache to see her eyes in the mirror, Dana's the same shade of gray as hers. And her smile. Dana had the same effervescent smile as her mother.

Shaking her head, she looked away. She didn't like looking in the mirror, wasn't sure why she had just now.

She got dressed, messed around with her hair until she was satisfied, then headed downstairs for a quick bite of breakfast.

Her step-mother was in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. She glanced up when Dana came into the kitchen and smiled. She looked as tired as Dana felt.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning,” Dana said, going to the cabinet for some cereal.

“Don't bother with that,” Penny said.

“Bother with what?”

“We are going out for breakfast.”

“We are,” Dana asked, the box of cereal still in her hand.

“Um, yeah,” her step-mother said, running her hand through her hair nervously, “I called the school, let them know you were sick and not coming in today.”

“Why?”

“I think we need to figure some things out,” she said, blushing.

“Like the email last night,” Dana said, putting the cereal away.

“Yeah, that,” she said, with a nervous laugh, “among other things.”

Dana sat down across from her, said, “What do you want to talk about?”

Laughing, Penny said, “There is so much we need to discuss that I don't even know where to begin.”

Nodding, Dana said, “I'm sorry I lied to you. About the email and who I was.”

“Yeah, me too,” her step-mother said, then grinned at her, “it was fun, though.”

“Yeah,” Dana said, smiling back at her.

“You said some pretty dirty things, young lady.”

Blushing, she looked away. Penny laughed and patted her hand. Looking back, she saw her step-mother was teasing. Her cheeks still red, she managed a sheepish grin.

“Then again,” Penny went on, laughing, “so did I. We got carried away sometimes.”

“Maybe a little,” Dana said, thinking, maybe a lot.

Penny's laughter suddenly dried up and she frowned. Looking away from Dana, she asked, “Do you think I'm a horrible person?”

Surprised by the question, she said, “What?”

“I'm married to a lovely man,” she said, shaking her head, “and I'm sending sexy emails to a woman behind his back.”

“Oh,” Dana said, cringing. It was a betrayal of sorts, of mind if not body. She could see the guilt was eating at Penny.

Oh God, I'm the other woman, she thought, feeling a twinge of guilt of her own.

“Why did you? Send the emails,” Dana asked.

“I don't know. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to tell you I liked your stories. Then we started talking and one thing lead to another... Kind of a cliché, I know. True in this case, though.”

“So, you've never done this kind of thing before,” Dana asked, meeting her eyes.

“God, no,” Penny laughed, shaking her head. Dana could see the truth of the statement in her eyes.

“Why did you this time,” she asked.

Penny looked away, blushing. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, said, “That... How do I say this... We were talking, really hit it off... I guess I started having... Feelings.”

“Oh,” Dana said, her heart racing. She understood, completely; it was how she had felt, too.

“I'm so ashamed, Dana,” she said, looking down at her coffee mug, “I love your father. So much, but I let myself be tempted.”

“I was tempted, too,” Dana said, really without meaning to. She looked away when her step-mother looked at her, her face on fire. She couldn't meet her eyes, as she said, “I think I was falling in love with you. The email you.”

She heard her step-mother give a weary sigh, “I know. That made it all the harder when I found your notebook and recognized your stories. I had... romantic feelings toward my step-daughter. ”

Dana couldn't help but meet her eyes, saw the truth in them along with a confusion of emotions. Penny looked about ready to cry, which brought tears to her own eyes.

“I've mucked things up horribly, haven't I,” she said, taking a deep breath to get herself under control.

“A little bit,” Dana said, startling a laugh from her, “with some help from me. I'm the trollop that tempted you away.”

Laughing harder, Penny said, “Trollop?”

“Strumpet?”

“Let's say mistress,” she said, shaking her head.

“Never been a mistress before,” Dana said, grinning, “I dig it.”

Penny gave her a funny look, then shook her head, “Maybe because I know now, but I think I should have known it was you all along. Some of the things you always say... They found their way into our emails and I remember thinking 'Huh, Dana says that all the time'. I just never made that leap, thinking it could be you.”

“Like you said,” Dana laughed, throwing her arms out, “Surprise!”

“Sorry about dropping that on you in an email,” her step-mother said, grinning sheepishly, “I just couldn't do it face to face.”

“Yeah, I avoided you all evening after reading it,” Dana admitted, with her own sheepish grin.

“Well,” Penny said, sitting up straighter, “we can't avoid each other forever. We live in the same house, after all. I guess things are going to be a little different now. Can't see how we can go back to the way it was before.”

“Guess not,” Dana said.

“So,” Penny said, standing up and pacing, “we need to figure out how we are going to go forward.”

“Okay,” she said, watching the woman pace.

“I guess first thing,” she said, laughing, “is I'm not going to tell your father about your writing or your secret identity. Maybe I'm selfish but I enjoy reading your stories too much to do the right thing.”

Dana had to grin at that, “Wow.”

“In return, don't tell him about my writing. He doesn't know about Lesbian Lolita, probably wouldn't approve.”

“Okay,” she said, thinking Penny was probably right.

“Good,” her step-mother said, sighing with relief.

“What about the other thing? The emails,” Dana asked, shyly.

Her step-mother stopped passing, sat down next to her. Glancing sideways at her, she said, “I don't know.”

“Can't pretend it didn't happen,” Dana said.

“Wouldn't dream of it. I had a blast emailing with you.”

“I liked it, too.”

Her step-mother nodded, was silent for a moment. Finally, she said, “After I got done freaking out about realizing I'd been sending... well, you know what I sent... I was sitting at the table, drinking and staring at your notebook. For the briefest of seconds I wonder what if...”

“What if we didn't stop,” Dana asked, her heart racing.

“Yeah, that,” she said, laughing.

“It wouldn't be the same,” Dana said, looking at her, “it isn't anonymous anymore.”

“No, I guess it isn't.”

“Do you think...” she said, then her words dried up. She started to ask if Penny would still want to email, now that she knew who was on the other end. She changed her mind, not sure if she could take it if her step-mother said no. It hadn't been a lie, when she said she was falling in love with the her email-er. A hedge, maybe, but not a lie. There was no falling, anymore. She was in love with her step-mother's alter ego.

Maybe Penny read the question in her eyes or was just on the same wave length, because she said, “You are very beautiful, Dana. I wish I could say I've never noticed before.”

That last line made her grin, “Checking out your step-daughter. Shame, shame.”

Laughing, her step-mother said, “You have read my stories before, right?”

She frowned, thinking about just what that meant. She blushed bright read when she noticed a pattern to a lot of Penny's stories, said, “Oh.”

A smile at Dana's expense kept tugging at the corners of Penny's mouth and she had to look away. Dana could see her trying not to laugh, which didn't do anything for her embarrassment.

“I never... Did you... Am I...” Dana tried to find the words to ask if the girl's in Penny's stories, the ones who ended up sleeping with their step-mothers, were her.

“Were you the inspiration for my stories,” Penny asked for her, her own cheeks coloring, “Not at first. It was my own experience with my adopted mother that sparked the stories. Then you are growing up, becoming this beautiful young woman and... I never intended to do anything about my fantasies.”

“Oh,” Dana said, her mind reeling. She never suspected her step-mother had feelings like that for her, any thought of her past a packaged deal with her father. She knew the woman loved her, maybe even as much as a real daughter but never like this.

“Whoa, my hands are shaking,” Penny said, with a nervous laugh, “I can't believe I said that out loud.”

Dana swallowed hard, wondered if she dared to admit she thought Penny was beautiful, too. She found her step-mother very appealing, especially now that she knew she was the woman behind the emails. Something was changing, her step-mother and the email-er slowly merging into one person and Dana was more than a little surprised how much she liked the person emerging.

“I... I think you are beautiful, too,” she said, quietly. She couldn't meet her step-mother's eyes, even when she felt the woman looking at her.

“Dana,” Penny said, softly. Her voice beckoned and Dana had to look up, meet her eyes. The woman's soul was laid bare in those eyes and Dana could see the longing, confusion, shame, and love in them. She had to look away, couldn't. That look had her transfixed.

The woman finally looked away, breaking the spell. She shook her head, said, “We are way down the rabbit hole, now, aren't we?”

Alice in Wonderland was one of her favorite stories and Dana smiled at the reference, “Does that make me the whiterabbit or you?”

“It's hard to say,” Penny said, laughing, “maybe we are each others' white rabbit.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, shyly, Dana said, “Alice had some good times down the rabbit hole.”

Her step-mother blinked at her, then slowly a curious smile spread on her face. She gave Dana a weighing look that made the girl blush. The smile became playful as she asked, “Are you sure?”

“We are just talking about emails, right,” Dana said, her heart pounding in her breast at the sight of that smile.

“Probably,” her step-mother said, still smiling that smile.

Her galloping heart missed a beat, stuttered, then was racing even faster than before. She didn't know if her step-mother was just teasing or if she'd actually let something more happen than just emailing back and forth.

Swallowing hard, Dana managed to say, “I think so.”

“I need you to be sure, Dana,” Penny said, smiling at her, “if you don't want to continue emailing, then we won't. Or we can stop at any time, if you ever need to. It is up to you.”

Dana took a deep breath and nodded, “I want to.”

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It was late and she should be asleep but Dana wasn't. She sat on her bed, her back against the headboard and her new laptop on her thighs. The bright display lit up the dark room.

She stared at the blank email box, her hands shaking with excitement. She was really going to do it, send her step-mother a sexy email. She had been trying to work up the nerve to do it all afternoon, ever since they had gotten back from their lunch. A few times, she had started to, then chickened out. One time she even started to write something, then had closed the email out, too embarrassed to finish it.

“Okay,” she said, out loud, putting her fingers on the keys. Hesitating, she didn't know what type. The emails had gotten pretty hot and heavy between her and the email-er before she learned it was her step-mother, but diving right back in didn't seem right. Their relationship was familiar yet different, the the same but still new at the same time.

Finally, her fingers began to move and words appeared in the box:

You know that little black dress you wear out sometimes, the one with the spaghetti straps and hardly any back, at all. I love that dress and I hope some day I can wear something like it as well as you do. You always look amazing in it. I don't know if I've ever told you that before...

Re-reading what she had typed, she wondered where she was going with the thought. She had just been writing and it was what had appeared on the screen. Her fingers found the home keys again and she began to type:

I always wondered what kind of panties you'd wear under such a sexy dress. Maybe some lacy boy shorts or a tiny thong. Or maybe nothing, at all. To feel the cool breeze on your bare skin would be nice don't you think and the chance of someone seeing you thrilling. It would be exciting, walking around wondering if anyone knew your little secret...

Dana stopped typing, feeling the first tingle of excitement. Her words were turning her on, the mental image of her step-mother in the black dress making her breathing funny. She went on:

I think I'd be so turned on by the time I made it home, so excited I'd just have to touch myself or explode. I wouldn't even make it to my room, just close the front door and lean against it, pull the dress up around my hips and let my fingers have their fun. I'd rub my clit until I came so hard my knees gave out. I'd just sit there on the floor, my dress around my hips, stunned by how good it had felt.

She felt a flush of heat between her thighs as she became excited. She had two mental images battling for her attention, one of her stepmother in the black dress making her breathing funny. She went on:

I think I'd be so turned on by the time I made it home, so excited I'd just have to touch myself or explode. I wouldn't even make it to my room, just close the front door and lean against it, pull the dress up around my hips and let my fingers have their fun. I'd rub my clit until I came so hard my knees gave out. I'd just sit there on the floor, my dress around my hips, stunned by how good it had felt.

She felt a flush of heat between her thighs as she became excited. She had two mental images battling for her attention, one of her step-mother leaning against the front door playing with herself, the black dress gathered around her full hips; and the other, an image of Dana in a little black dress, doing the same.

Maybe I won't wear panties to school tomorrow. How thrilling will that be? The boys always try to sneak a peek when you wear a skirt. I'd be so nervous that one of them might see me, see more than they bargained for. How exciting that chance might be. I'd surely be so horny by the time I made it home, I'd have to run up to my room and finally do something about the heat between my thighs. Mmmm... I think I might not wear panties tomorrow.

Pausing, she tried to calm down. She'd worked herself into a state, had excited herself, trying to turn her step-mother on. She looked at the SEND button at the bottom of the email box, biting her lower lip. With a nervous giggle she clicked on the button, then wished she hadn't. It had been a spontaneous action, one she wished she had thought out before doing it. She might have still sent it, but now she couldn't take it back.

She stared at the 'Your message has been sent' message, wondered what her step-mother would think when she read the email. A naughty shiver worked its way up her spine and she giggled, again. It was so wrong, sending that email. So wrong and so exciting.

“This was a bad idea,” she said, thinking she couldn't wait to do it, again.

She was too excited to go to bed now, her thirteen year old body thrumming with nervous sexual energy. It was the same thrill she got from writing, from posting her stories on Lesbian Lolita. Thinking about the site, she had to smile.

“Why not,” she said, out loud.

Closing her email, she opened the link to Lesbian Lolita, found Penny For Your Thoughts's page. She clicked on her favorite story, one she'd read at least a dozen times. She glanced at the door, wished again it had a lock. Then again, she might not use it. It only added to the thrill, the chance of getting caught.

Giggling, she stripped out of her panties, tossed them aside. With a shiver working through her, she removed her sleep shirt and threw it aside, as well. Naked, she leaned back against the headboard, gasping as the cool wood touched her bare skin. Putting the computer on the bed beside her, Dana spread her legs wide and let her right hand slip into the junction of her thighs. With her left hand, she used the down arrow to scroll through the story.

The story started slow but built into an erotic frenzy, with a climax that always took Dana's breath away. Her fingers made lazy circles, her finger tips teasing her bud as she read the opening segment. As the story began to gather steam, her caresses grew faster. Soft sighs dripped from her slack mouth and her hips began to roll against her hand as she became more and more excited. Those soft sighs became moans as the sexual tension between the main characters of the story slowly ratcheted up. By the time she reached the scene where the young girl finally succumbs to her step-mother's advances, she was writhing in pure pleasure, had trouble focusing on pushing the down arrow to keep the story rolling.

This reading was different than the others. The characters in her minds eyes had morphed into her stepmother's advances, she was writhing in pure pleasure, had trouble focusing on pushing the down arrow to keep the story rolling.

This reading was different than the others. The characters in her minds eyes had morphed into her step-mother and her. Penny For Your Thoughts lovely prose filled her imagination with sexy images of her step-mother doing wonderful things to her young body, things that had her rocketing toward release. Her body was gathering tension, ready to explode. She was gritting her teeth to keep quiet, not completely succeeding.

She reached the brilliant climax of the story, felt her body stiffen even as the girl came in the story, pushed to the brink of ecstasy by her step-mother's mouth and into bliss. Dana gasped as she orgasmed, too, shaking so hard her knee bumped the laptop, knocking it aside.

“Shit,” she gasped, laughing. She let her head lull back against the headboard as the feel good endorphins began to flow. Her thoughts a little fuzzy, she still finished the story. She loved how it ended, the step-mother and daughter in love. Like a fairy tale, she thought.

She wondered if she was the inspiration for the girl in this story. Did Penny think about them living 'happily ever after'?

Shaking her head, she closed the computer, pushed it under the bed. Not bothering to get dressed, she crawled under the covers, mindful of the damp spot she'd left and closed her eyes. She didn't expect sleep to take her, figured it would be a while before she got some rest. She was wrong.

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Her step-mother looked up at her when she came into the kitchen for breakfast. She gave Dana a curious smile, looked at the skirt she was wearing to school. Dana could almost see the wheels turning in her brain and had to smile. She had read the email.

She got a bowl and a box of cereal from the cabinet, a spoon from the silverware drawer and the milk from the fridge and sat down across from her step-mother. The woman leaned in close and whispered, “You are wearing panties under that skirt, aren't you, young lady?”

Winking at her, she said, “Why don't you ask the boys at school?”