“Is something wrong, April? Are you alright?”

  Ms. Hollander had finished checking attendance and standing in front of her desk had begun asking our thoughts on Gilded Age society when I looked down and realized that I was looking too far down—that I was barely squeezed into the student-sized desk I was sitting in. That I was me again, David.

  “Yes, Ms. Hollander,” I said automatically, hoping nobody would notice my suddenly adult, masculine, deep voice.

  “If you’re sure.” She examined me skeptically. “You do look a little out of sorts. If you decide you need it, I can give you a pass for the school nurse.”

  “Yes, Ms. Hollander,” I repeated, and someone snickered. Had they noticed? Could they tell? I sat as still as possible.

  “So, class,” she went on. “We’ve discussed the decadence of the Gilded Age, and I’ve decided to perform a demonstration. Lizard?”

  “Yes, Ms. Hollander,” he said, kneeling in front of her. (And where had he been?) Naked, she leaned back to rest her butt on the edge of her desk and spread her legs for him. Her mons and labia were as smooth as mine, and I wondered if she shaved.

  Lizard lunged forward to plant his face in Ms. Hollander’s pussy and she threw her head back with a deep inhale, hooking her legs up over his shoulders as he grabbed her thighs. The class giggled as wet sounds filled the air and our homeroom teacher moaned. I shifted uncomfortably, noticing I was April again but now I was naked, too. None of the other girls were naked and that hardly seemed fair. Would I be part of the demonstration? Sitting to my left, Gemma turned to look at me and I flushed hotly but her eyes went back to the front of the class and our moaning, writhing teacher. Mine did too.

  We watched, fascinated, as Ms. Hollander had a very hard time keeping still under the assault of Lizard’s tongue. My flush deepened and moved down, and to my horror I knew I was wet. Very, very wet. Dripping, puddling my hard plastic seat wet. No no no no no! I tried to sit even more still, hands on my desk as I felt the pulse between my squeezing thighs. My breath quickened as our teacher whimpered, grabbing Lizard’s hair and pushing her heels against the back of his school blazer.

  Apparently it wasn’t enough for Ms. Hollander; pushing his head away and sliding off her desk, she turned in place to lay her upper body over it, widening her stance and presenting her ass to Lizard and the class. Reaching back, she spread her pale cheeks so we could all see her glistening wet vulva, red and swollen below her entrance, and above that the shadowed pit of her anus. Seizing her thighs, Lizard dove in again and the pulse at my core became a fluttering as the wet sounds resumed. As my body tightened I knew I had to get out of there, that everyone would see. But if I moved, everyone would notice.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to ignore the sounds coming from the front of the classroom but when Ms. Hollander cried out my eyes flew open. Up on her elbows now, she threw her head back as she shook, her body seizing, and just watching I knew I was going to come but when I desperately raised my hand to get her attention and ask for that nurse’s pass my own orgasm caught me, my body shuddering as my pussy contracted spasmodically and I burst, flooding my seat until my clear ejaculate dripped onto the floor. I sat naked in my chair, twitching with aftershocks in a puddle of my own fluids, as the whole class looked at me. Sitting clothed behind her desk at the front of the class, Ms. Hollander looked up from her reading at my raised hand.

  “I see you’ve made a mess, April,” she said, sounding very disappointed. “I’ll give you that nurse’s pass. And call the janitor for a mop.” Around me the laughter started as I sat paralyzed in my dripping seat under everyone’s eyes. Even Gemma laughed and pointed as I opened my mouth to try and explain my condition and— I jerked upright in Pinky’s bed, gasping and shuddering.

  “April?”

  It was a dream. Just a dream. Only a dream. Oh, God.

  “April?” It wasn’t Ms. Hollander. Pinky lay awake beside me as I curled over my legs, wrapping my arms around myself and trying to calm down, to convince myself that I hadn’t just come squirting in front of Ms. Hollander and Gemma and my entire homeroom class. Drawing my legs up beneath the blanket, I rested my head on my knees.

  “April, are you alright?” Pinky asked softly, sitting up and putting a hand on my arm. Sometime in all that she’d flipped the light on and I nodded into the blanket, wanting to disappear as the dream faded. When I’d made my plans I hadn’t even thought— I’d thought I’d always just woken up, before. That I’d just laid there and dreamed and woken up wet.

  Changing for bed, instead of grabbing a fast shower as cover to rub out a quick orgasm I’d worn a thick pad inside my panties, ready to get up in the night and change if I needed to without waking my new friend. But the clock on her study desk said it was 2 AM—if Pinky was awake then I’d woken her up. What had I done? What had she seen? How much had she heard?

  “Hey.” She ran her hand up my bare arm to my nightshirt sleeve to rub my hunched-over back, loosening me a little. “What was that?

  I squeezed my eyes shut, as if she couldn’t see me if I couldn’t see her. After all my fears, it had been such a good night, exactly what Mom had described. We’d eaten pizza, we’d talked about school (a lot), boys (only a little), and dreams (Pinky wanted to be a Supreme Court Justice). We’d watched a Girl’s Night high school comedy while eating ice cream. I’d changed in her bathroom, wearing one of my new longer nightshirts (black with huge cat-eyes on it) with my night shorts, and we’d gone to sleep in her double bed in her room that still held echoes of her tween years (including her extensive teddy bear collection; she’d loved that I’d brought Hads with me). Despite my nerves at sharing a bed with someone—something I hadn’t done in my entire life—I’d dropped off to sleep easily. And now there was this.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Opening my eyes, I let out a shaky breath, raising my head to meet her eyes. “What woke you up?”

  “You were, um, moving around,” she finally said. “A lot.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “Anything else?”

  “Well, once you said ‘Yes, Ms. Hollander.’ And I’m pretty sure you came, just now. Did you— Did you have a wet dream about Ms. Hollander?”

  “Oh God.” I dropped my head back on my knees. “No. Yes. It was—it was a social anxiety dream? And a sex dream? I—God.” Minus the part about briefly being David again and that was something I didn’t want to think about at all, I told her my horrific social-anxiety sex dream.

  By the time I finished her eyes were wide and her mouth an oval of horror. “So you dream about coming naked in class?”

  “No! It’s— I do have wet dreams sometimes. Okay, a lot.” I pushed my hair back behind my ears, not looking at her. “And when I do I . . . come. But I’ve never had a wet dream and an anxiety dream at the same time. Just tonight.”

  “So . . . this is because of me.”

  Wait, what? “No! It’s not, it’s—”

  “Catching us at the party is what put Lizard in your head, right? And earlier you were all nervous, I figured it was just you weren’t used to sharing a bed with another girl, but really you were nervous about . . . this? Me seeing that?”

  “I—” I blew out a deep breath. “Maybe? I guess?” I laughed half-hysterically. “I sure hope that dream isn’t a new regular thing.” Fuck, I’d had my share of naked-in-school dreams the first time around and for years after graduation, but the humiliation of this one had been next level. In the minute between waking up and coming fully out of it I’d wanted to just shrivel up and die.

  “Me too,” Pinky agreed. “I’ve had that whole naked in the hall between class bells dream myself, but I never dreamed of coming in public!”

  I barked a laugh and slapped a hand over my mouth.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking that! Now I’m imagining walking to my locker naked, or, or running laps on the track bare-assed hoping nobody will notice! Thanks a lot!” Sighing, I took a breath, wet reality slamming back into me. “And I need to go change.” Sliding out of the bed I flipped back the blanket, trying to check without being obvious, but though I could feel cooling wetness between my legs the pad had held everything, I’d left nothing on the bedsheet. I sighed again. “I’ll be just a minute.”

  Grabbing my overnight bag, I stepped into Pinky’s bathroom and closed the door. It took only a moment to drop my night shorts and remove the pad, rolling and wrapping it and throwing it away. Pulling my nightshirt off I stepped into the shower for a quick clean, drying myself off and slipping on a pair of fresh white panties before putting my nightshirt back on.

  Looking in the mirror, there was no hint that I’d come squirting in my big sister’s bed.

  When I opened the bathroom door I saw Pinky had moved while I’d been cleaning up. She sat back against her headboard looking thoughtful, and when I turned out the bathroom light she gave me a smile. “All good?” she asked, and when I nodded she patted the bed. “Get in here, then.” When I did, sliding under the blanket, she handed me Hads to hold. I expected her to reach for the bedside light, but she didn’t.

  Instead she turned to me, looking serious and biting her lip.

  “What?”

  “. . . You wanna have sex?”

  My thoughts skipped and skidded. “Excuse me?”

  “Excuse me?” She threw back her head and laughed. “Is that a polite ‘Fuck off,’ or a polite ‘What the fuck?’”

  “I— Um— The second one? Really, what? You’re not a lesbian.”

  “And I know you’re not, not the way you make eyes at Brad and Chet. No, I’m just saying we’re Hadley sisters, we’ve both shared some pretty intimate stuff. I like you, you like me, and I’d like you to have a better memory of tonight than your social anxiety nightmare and horrible embarrassment. Also you’re just too cute for words and I’d love to be your sapphic sister.”

  “. . . Sapphic sister?”

  “You know, two girls who really like boys but think other girls are also very pretty and who like making intimate friendships fun and intimate?” At my lack of positive reaction, any reaction, really, the smile gradually dropped from her face. “But if the idea of being intimate with another girl just turns you off that’s okay—”

  Dropping Hads, I twisted to grab her hand. “No, that’s not— I mean—um. Did not see this coming.” Really not. Not in a million years. “My head’s just all over the place still? Give me a moment, please?”

  She nodded and now I was biting my lip. I had to check my first thought. “Um, you’re not actually bi and . . . crushing on me or anything, right?”

  She visibly held in her laugh. “Nope. Well, maybe bisexual, but totally guy-leaning romantically if that makes sense? You’re cute as a button and I really like you but seeing you across a crowded room doesn’t make my heart race or anything, okay?”

  I sighed, relieved. “Okay. And me, too. I mean, yeah, the same for me. With you. That’s good.” It checked off the qualm firmly lodged in my mind by Sister Edwards; I hadn’t been, wouldn’t be, leading Pinky on, and she wasn’t giving me expectations. We weren’t romantically inclined that way, there was no risk of misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

  Relieved of that issue, my mind turned to some of the illustrations in A Pillow Book, and even its suggestion that girls could learn a lot of things from each other if they were minded to, things that would stand them in good stead in straight intimate relationships.

  If that was true, well, Pinky was offering to teach me more about my body and now she just sat smiling at me, still holding my hand and okay with my silence. “Well?” she finally asked with a half-laugh.

  I nodded. “Yes. Okay. I’m— This is— I’m kind of scared right now?” That was the absolute truth; my voice had started to shake a little and moved to a higher register. “But yes, I’d really like to have sex with you. Please?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She laughed lightly but couldn’t miss my nerves. Tightening her grip, she pulled gently, making me fall forward onto her and wrapping me in a hug. “Hey, I’m not going to jump you and ravish you, alright?”

  I nodded into her shoulder, sighing again. This was starting so, so well if my big sister’s first urge was to comfort-hug me. Held there against her, I felt very small and very stupid. “So how do we start?” I whispered.

  She showed me.