Kristene Baker knelt at the foot of the stairs, not quite able to believe her eyes. The sight of her older sister lying on the living-room floor, her boyfriend's face buried between her legs, was something both confusing and exciting. Watching them was wrong, of course, but she couldn't move.

Her life experience up to this moment hadn't prepared her for such a situation. She'd lived out of the country for almost five of her eighteen years. Her father, who was Lebanese, had taken her back to his home country when he and her mom had divorced.

She'd never quite understood why she was the one who had to go, and not Amy, who was a year older, and more out-going. However, it had happened and her life had changed dramatically as a result.

Living in the Middle East as a Muslim, and having to adapt to the customs of her father's people had been quite a challenge for the young American girl. She didn't look like the rest of the Muslim kids, being blonde and fair-skinned like her mother, and she stood out like a Christmas tree during Ramadan.

She was self-conscious about how strange she must look to the locals, and was glad that she was required to wear the concealing chador, the prescribed clothing of a Muslim female, whenever she had to go outside her home.

Now that Kristene was back in the United States, everything was again strange to her. After the strict religious life of Lebanon, and the exacting discipline to which she had been subject there, life in America was frightening. There seemed to be unlimited freedom, and that scared Kristene more than she cared to admit.

She was afraid of the kids at school, and afraid of the teachers too. There seemed to be no order, no belief system, no discipline of any kind. People did what they wanted, whenever they wanted it, with little thought of right and wrong.

So there she was, kneeling behind the banister of the stairway at home, watching an ungodly act take place in her own living-room.

Kristene had been unsettled by her sister's behaviour ever since arriving home after her father's death. She had been relieved when her mom insisted that she be allowed to return to her surviving parent, but had been in a state of fear and confusion ever since.

Being confronted with her sister having sex with her boyfriend was just another in a seemingly long series of events to which Kristene was finding it hard to adjust.

As she turned and ran away in embarrassed confusion, she heard her name being called. Oh god, they must have seen her watching them!

Kristene couldn't face that. It was unthinkable that she'd even watched them having sex, far less oral sex, which was an offense against the Quran, and probably the Bible too.

She ran on, unseeing, tears of shame coursing down her cheeks, neither knowing nor caring where she went, just wanting to get away.

Amy had noticed a movement from the stairs and saw her sister turning away. She was instantly sorry that she'd let Rob talk her into having sex at home. She struggled to a sitting position, shoving Rob's face out of her crotch, and yelled for her sister to stop. But it was too late.

There was no telling how long she'd been there. Amy knew that her younger sister was having trouble adjusting to the American lifestyle, and that this little scene would probably set her back even further. She felt bad, even ashamed.

She grabbed her skirt and quickly wrapped it around her waist, then she slipped on her shoes and ran out the door after her sister. By then, Rob had figured out what had happened and ran out behind Amy, straightening his clothes as he went.

They searched until they saw Kristene sitting in the bleachers of the little-league field, about a mile down the road from her home. The young blonde was crouching, her sweater pulled over her head like a chador, as if she wanted to hide from the world.

As Amy came up to her, Kristene went rigid. Not knowing what to do or say, she hid her face, her shame and embarrassment just too much for her to bear.

"Kristene, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for you to see us, honest," Amy pleaded. She felt guilty about her sister looking so lost and frightened, and almost wanted to cry herself.

Kristene mumbled that she was sorry she'd spied on them; that it had been an accident; and that she'd never do it again.

The sisters sat together, hugging each other, for a long time, with Amy continuously reas- suring her younger sister. She rocked Kristene gently, back and forth, as if she were a baby she was trying to soothe.

Meanwhile Rob stood watching this touching scene, thinking how nice both sisters looked. Their faces flushed and streaked with tears, and their color heightened by exercise and crying, both were quite lovely.

He still felt horny, having planned a nice afternoon of slow sex with Amy. He felt a bit frustrated by the turn of events, but remained hopeful. He'd been attracted by the younger sister when she first showed up, several months ago, but had been put off by her strange behavior.

For the first couple of weeks she'd insisted on wearing that 'chador' thing, and using Arabic to describe anything for which she didn't know the English expression.

Admittedly, she didn't have a foreign accent when she spoke English, but she didn't know the English name of lots of things. It was just weird.

He'd driven both her and Amy to the mall shortly after Kristene's arrival home. They'd taken her to several clothing stores, and Rob still remembered her trying on some dresses for school. Amy had picked out some really sexy stuff, and Kristene had tried them on. She'd looked incredibly sexy, especially in a little red dress which came down only as far as a few inches below her snatch. (He smiled at the recollection).

When Kristene had said that she couldn't possibly wear something like that in public, Rob had tried to convince her that it made her look like a goddess. Eventually she had let Amy buy it for her, but she'd never worn it since.

That afternoon Rob went home frustrated because Amy wanted to be alone with her sister. He locked himself in his room to 'beat his meat', imagining what it would be like to have both sisters at the same time. With thoughts like that he soon got relief, though he remained somehow unsatisfied.

His thoughts returned once more to his girlfriend's younger sister.

That night Kristene dreamt that her sister and her sister's boyfriend were making love in front of her. Unlike during waking hours, the vision wasn't under the control of her will-power. She dreamt that, instead of turning and running, she had walked into the room and stood over the lovers as they lay on the floor.

In the dream her sister looked up at her while Rob busied himself between her legs. Amy smiled sexily at her, a strange look in her eyes, and asked if she'd like to join them.

Rob looked up at her then, her sister's sexual juices smeared over his chin and lips. He reached for her hand and slowly pulled her down to the floor beside Amy. He then, as slowly, unbuttoned her Levis and undressed her from the waist down, as he had already undressed her sister.

The dream made Kristene look up at Rob while he removed his own clothing. He was beautiful, all muscles and tan.

In the dream he was a perfect lover, gentle with her, and expertly nestling his face between her legs. Her sister was lying down on the floor, her face propped on her elbow. She was smiling at them, saying how beautiful they looked together.

Kristene felt Rob licking her sensuously, massaging her private domain, as he had been doing when she'd watched him with her sister on the living-room rug.

A pang of fear shot through her when she felt, and then saw, him sliding his body up along hers. She had marveled at his sex equipment when she'd first seen him undressed, but hadn't thought it through.

He continued to climb up her body until he rested in her cradle. Kristene reached down between their bodies and grasped his penis, his oh-so-hard penis, wriggling a little sideways so that she might see what he looked like up close.

For some reason his penis looked really inviting, slick and nice, and unbelievably large. Then, without a word, Rob pushed her hand away and hovered over her, his hands firmly planted on either side of her T-shirt-covered shoulders, and touched her sex with his.

She could feel him knocking at her opening; then she felt his penis head stretching her open, followed by a smooth thrust into her depths. . . 'Ohhhh....Gggooddd!' she moaned as she came in the night.

Kristene's eyes shot open as she experienced her first true orgasm, biting her lip, trying to remain quiet. She lay there, silently rocking back and forth, unusual sensations rushing through her body, shivering in physical ecstasy.

Just dreaming about Rob had made her come in her sleep.

After the unfamiliar raking orgasms slowed, and finally stopped, Kristene was ashamed of what her body had just experienced. She'd only had one other even remotely similar experience, when she was thirteen, just before going to the Middle East. She'd always remembered that feeling, but hadn't understood what it was, or quite how it had happened.

Having subsequently been under tight moral control, she hadn't even thought about sex for the next five years of her life.

She started feeling guilty about her dream. Having sex with her sister's boyfriend was against everything she'd learned from the Quran, and from Hadith. She was more confused than ever, and tossed and turned through the night.

When dawn came at last, she was up with the birds. Her body had generated a great deal of nervous energy following her new experiences, so, her mind still in turmoil, she went for an early morning run to work it off.

The shower was on full blast as Kristene stood under the flow, letting the hot water work its magic on her tense muscles. The run had done her good, but somehow she still felt tense. She knew she had several more minutes to enjoy the hot water, but then she'd have to get going if she wasn't to be late for school.

Standing under the soothing flow, her mind drifted, and she thought about her high school and the day that stretched before her, her fellow students and teachers.

She was academically far ahead of most of the other kids at school, and the teachers liked her for that. Her classmates, however, were less impressed, and though they didn't exactly shun her, Kristene still hadn't made any real friends. She thought it was probably her fault. She was terribly shy, so conversations with boys were almost painful to get through, while few girls talked to her at all.

The McPheresons lived next door, and Carry, the older of their two daughters, had been paired off with Kristene when she arrived home from the Lebanon. However, they hadn't yet gotten very close; again it was probably her own fault, she thought sadly. Their parents had tried hard to make them friends, but it didn't feel quite right.

Kristene was abruptly returned to the present when her sister popped her head through the steam-filled opening of the shower-stall and asked: "Hey, lazy-bones, you going to school, or you planning to stay in here all day? Mom wants you downstairs asap!"

Kristene felt strange to have her sister standing there, appraising her naked body.

"You know, you really should wear something other than Levis to school. I'm telling you, senior year is the best time you'll ever have. And with a body like that you could have them eating out of your hand.

She reached in and turned off the water. Kristene just stood there, not knowing what to do. She deliberately didn't try to cover herself with her arms and hands; she didn't want to look as if she felt guilty about something.

Meanwhile Amy looked her over from head to toe before saying: "Well, you coming out or not?"

Kristene stumbled out of the shower, while Amy grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing her body vigorously to dry her.

Kristene nervously asked her sister what she was doing. "Amy, I can dry myself, you know. Please give me a little privacy."

Amy looked into her eyes and smiled. "I do know you can dry yourself, Krissy, but I want to do it."

Kristene didn't know what to say to this. She didn't know why Amy was acting this way, but she didn't want to offend her, so she stood in the middle of the bathroom and let her sister dry her body completely. She jumped, however, when Amy's hand 'accidentally' touched her left breast.

"I think I'm dry enough, Amy. Thanks for your help, but I'll take it from here if that's OK with you?" she said, a nervous squeak in her voice.

"Krissy, you're gonna have to learn to be less up-tight. You've been to places I can only dream about, and met people I never will, and that's great; but you're back in the good old USA now, and you need to try to fit in more than you have. Try letting some of those formidable defenses down a little." She smiled while saying it, but Kristene was hurt by her sister's criticism.

Amy left her at last to dress in peace, glancing behind her one last time as she left the room, admiring her younger sister's body and thinking to herself: What a waste to keep that hidden!

For the past week or two Kristene had been toying with the idea of wearing more feminine clothes, but she guessed she probably wouldn't really do it. She felt comfortable in pants, and after the ridicule she'd had from kids in her neighborhood for wearing the chador when she'd first arrived, she was in no hurry to change her style of clothing.

But her sister's criticism stung her. Was she a mouse, or a woman? Kristene stood naked in front of the floor-length mirror and looked at herself. There was nothing in the reflection that bothered her, she thought. She had a well-proportioned body; to which she'd never really given much thought before, she was pleased with her general appearance.

For most of her teenage years she'd been covered from head to toe, and no one else had seen her unclothed body . Having Amy look at her nude had been surprisingly exhilarating. What would it feel like actually to wear the skimpy red dress Amy had insisted she try on? It had felt quite deliciously sinful wearing it.

Kristene still savored that feeling. She'd almost fainted, she'd been so excited at having her body on public display. She smiled at herself. "What a dope I am!" she thought. "Women wear stuff like that all the time."

She was determined to try to 'fit in', so she decided to wear that dress to school, and start working on making friends.

Just then she heard a knock, and she turned to see Carry McPhereson looking in through the door. Kristene quickly held her towel up to cover her nakedness.

Carry was surprised to find Kristene not yet dressed; she'd always been before. "You're not ready," she said accusingly. "Hurry up; I don't want to be late. I'm in enough trouble at school as it is."

It was Carry's 'job' to accompany Kristene to school each day. She didn't really mind it, and, in fact, wasn't too upset that her charge was running late. It was interesting to see her in such an embarrassing position.

On an impulse Kristene dropped the towel and turned to face her classmate. "Carry, how do you think I look?"

Carry stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, then stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"You look really nice, Krissy." She came and stood right in front of Kristene and smiled. Then, wrapping her arms around Kristene's naked body, she pulled her close and kissed her.

Kristene began struggling after her initial surprise had worn off. She was surprised and shocked at her own feelings during the moments before reason told her that Carry was doing something wrong.

In those brief moments she'd returned to that strange place she'd inhabited the previous night, in her dreams. She fought to break Carry's kiss, but she felt weak; her knees buckled under her, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Carry's hands were roving over her smooth back, and down to her round bottom, her hand linger- ing there while she massaged one cheek between her fingers and thumb.

Eventually, unable to continue kissing Kristene without taking a breath, Carry reluctantly pulled her lips away after a last swirl of the tongue and stepped back.

"Yes, you look really sexy, Krissy," she said calmly, sitting on the bed to watch her classmate dress. "So, what are you planning to wear today?"

Carry behaved as if nothing untoward had occurred, but Kristene was immobile with shock, as much by how Carry had made her feel as by what she had done.

"W-what j-just happened there?" she asked in a small, trembly voice.

"Didn't you know? I'm gay, and I like other girls. I thought you knew, and were coming on to me. At school I hang out with the "in" crowd, and most of us are gay or bi. It's really 'in' right now. I might go straight later, if I find the right guy, but for now it's a lot of fun...

She chattered away, but Kristen didn't hear her; she was still shocked at how much she'd enjoyed Carry's kiss and her groping hand.

Impulsively, she went up to her. "Carry, what do gay people do with each other? I don't see how they could have, you know, sex. I mean neither of us has the right equipment..."

She stumbled through the words, not know- ing quite how to express what she meant. All she knew was that Carry had made her feel wonderful, and that she wanted more of that feeling.

Carry knew just what to do; she could tell a horny virgin when she saw one. She reached up and ran her cool hands over her classmate's naked breasts.

Kristene closed her eyes and bathed in the sensation. She almost jumped when she felt a hand between her legs, but then decided she liked that too.

She stood there, her legs trembling, waiting for... she didn't know what. She had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that she had an urgent need, and that Carry might know how to satisfy it.

Examining her at close range, Carry was becoming excited. She'd previously admired Kristene's body, even in loose-fitting clothes, but had never expected to get anywhere with her. She'd decided that Kristene was some kind of Islamic weirdo, but, weirdo or not, she was something else.

Carry was instantly turned-on, and began probing every nook and cranny of her new friend's body with her hands. She stroked her velvety skin, running her hands repeatedly over Kristene's breasts and nipples, and seeing her tremble at each intimate contact. When she reached the naked pussy and started rubbing, Kristene collapsed onto the bed, next to Carry, her legs no longer able to keep her erect.

Carry rolled over on top of Kristene's spread-eagled body and really started doing what she liked to do most. She started with Kristene's nipples, and worked slowly down to the fresh little pussy, her tongue flicking here, there, and everywhere.

Kristene moaned with unleashed lust at the feel of Carry's hand and mouth. It made Carry smile inwardly, recalling her own first time. "Bring your legs up, as if you're going to do sit-ups," she ordered.

Kristene did as she was told, but she was nervous, her body quivering at every touch.

Carry now put her hands on Kristene's knees and made her spread her legs, then slid her hands down inside her thighs towards her crotch.

"Beautiful pussy!" she murmured.

Pussy? Kristene frowned. She had heard the word before, referring to a girl's crotch, but had been told that girls hated that word.

Carry realized what she was thinking. "It's OK to say pussy; sometimes even cunt, or twat - whatever you like. Just don't use words like that in front of anyone you wouldn't say 'fuck' to."

She put her hands on Kristene's inner thighs, and Kristene jumped as Carry lowered her face between her legs and pressed her mouth against her pussy. After the first shock, however, she just stared at the ceiling and let Carry do her thing. She'd never before imagined that this kind of activity occurred between girls.

Carry licked up and down the spread pussy lips, so lightly that Kristene almost fell asleep. Suddenly, however, Carry moved her hands inward and touched Kristene's vagina. She pulled the little lips apart and eased her tongue inside.

Kristene's body became rigid as her friend slowly, and methodically, tongued her. It felt weird, but good. So good, in fact, that her entire body became warm.

Suddenly Kristene felt herself about to urinate on Carry's tongue. Thinking of the humiliation she would suffer should something like that happen she tried to stop the feeling, but it only grew more intense. Eventually she just had to let herself go.

However, she didn't urinate. Instead, a star burst inside her body and radiated outward, as Carry gently brought her classmate to her first wakeful orgasm.

Kristene lost all control of her body, the release was so intense, so wonderful. She was crying as her body was racked by repeated orgasmic spasms.

Carry maintained her rhythm on Kristene's clitoris until she could no longer take the intense pleasure, and pushed her friend's head away.

Still crying, Kristene curled herself into a fetal ball, while Carry held her in her arms. She continued slowly stroking Kristene's now-sopping pussy lips, enjoying the moment, until the girls heard Kristene's mother calling for her to come down for breakfast.

From that morning, Carry and Kristene were the best of friends. Kristene wore her little red dress to school that day, and soon afterwards got in with the 'in' crowd.

As far as men were concerned, however, she remained a virgin for another five years.

Acknowledgments: All my thanks... to Stephen for his encouragement and proofing and to Ian for doing such a good job editing my little story.