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“When do you think we should plan on leaving Memphis to head back to school?” Bonnie asked Sami, between nibbles of Sami’s clit.

“Since we’ve preregistered for the fall semester, we don’t really have to be back until the last week of August, baby,” Sami replied but not really wanting to talk about school, or anything for that matter; no, Sami wanted Bonnie to stop talking but continue nibbling, that’s what Sami wanted.

Since Bonnie’s return from her grandmother’s funeral, she and Sami had somehow moved towards domesticity; neither knew it, but knowing it has nothing to do with living it.

Sami and AJ kept their interaction at work, the same as it was before their weekend of lust. Neither had alluded to it, except once, a week after it had occurred, when AJ made a comment to Sami over a cup of coffee.

“You still remember ‘Rule’ number two, I trust,” AJ said, off-handedly, sotto-voice.

“Yep,” Sami replied tersely.

“Just checking,” AJ offered, but with a smile on her face for Sami.

Sami hadn’t told Bonnie of that weekend with AJ, she didn’t really think it necessary, or so she told herself at any rate; but still, it did nag at her. And it was the nagging of her conscious that finally caused her to ‘fess up one night, after one Tequila shot too many.

She and Bonnie were relaxing, after sharing a pizza, and decided to do ‘shots’; no real reason, but just for the hell of it, they said. After the third shot, Bonnie was lying on the couch with her head in Sami’s lap as Sami stroked her hair and face, Bonnie being a light-weight when it came to liquor.

“Bonnie?” Sami said, a few minutes after she had taken her fourth, and last, shot.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I had a ‘thing’ when you were back in Gulfport, a couple of weeks ago.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah; I sorta’ shacked up with someone over the weekend,” but, of course, not revealing with whom.

Remember, Rule Number Two.

“I mean, it just sorta’ happened, and I haven’t felt right since, about not telling you about it.” “I mean, I know that I probably shouldn’t have, but I did, and it just doesn’t feel right, not telling you, you know?”

“I think so,” Bonnie said while her mind was processing what Sami was saying, and wondering why she was saying it. Did it mean that Sami’s feelings for Bonnie were more than carnal and friendship?

“But, Sami?” Bonnie said, after a minute or so, “You’ve been with other girls since you and I have been, well you know, lovers; so why are you telling me about this one?”

“I don’t really know, baby, but I do know that it’s been eating at me slowly, that I’ve kept it from you; I don’t why that is either, but it’s there, nevertheless,” Sami answered, feeling a bit teary; must that fucking Tequila, Sami thought as she ‘sorta’ sniffed back a tear.

“Sami, don’t cry, baby, please don’t cry,” Bonnie said as she sat up quickly, and wrapped her arms around Sami, pulling Sami into her body to comfort.

“I’m sorry, Bonnie, it must be the Tequila; I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Sami said as she hugged Bonnie back.

“It’s okay, baby, its okay,” Bonnie said soothingly.

Neither said anything for a few minutes, content to be in each other’s arms in that moment.

“Want to make it up to me?” Bonnie asked, breaking the silence of the room.

“More than you know,” Sami replied, genuinely contrite and genuinely sorrowful, though not knowing really why she felt so.

“Take me to bed and make love to me, baby; make love to me like you know to do,” Bonnie said, wanting Sami-girl to make love to her now; more than ever, she needed Sami to make love to her.

And Sami did exactly that, she brought Bonnie with her, to their bed; for the canlı bahis next three hours, Sami-girl made slow, delicious love to Bonnie Sue Madison, taking her time, making love to Bonnie as she had never done before.

And afterwards, after the sex was over, when all they had left were each other in embrace on the sex-wrecked bed, they both knew that a line had been crossed by them; and while neither of them voiced it, both of them knew it.

__________________________

Bonnie took the wind out of the young, “Breaking News” reporter’s sail, finally telling him that she didn’t want to go out with him; not now, not later, but more like, never.

“I’ve been thinking about it, but with my Uncle being who he is, it just wouldn’t be a wise thing to do; I mean, you could be working for me someday,” laughing about it, but also knowing that it could happen just as she said.

‘Breaking News’ boy backed off and all was right in Bonnie’s world.

They had informed Uncle Joe of when their last day would be at the station, and both thanked him profusely, for the summer jobs, letting him know of their appreciation. Uncle Joe told them that, truthfully, he really hated them leaving, but he also reminded them of the importance of ‘the Degree’, and wished them both well.

Their last day at the station, there was an informal, going-away thingy put together for the girls by their co-workers, and a fun time was had by all. It had been a great summer, Bonnie and Sami agreed on the drive home that night.

As they made love to each other that night, both girls thought that this had been the best summer ever, for each.

“That was daddy,” Bonnie said when Sami stepped out of the shower, drying her hair with a fluffy towel, “He thinks we should hold up before heading back to school, that we should wait a couple of days to see what that hurricane will do.”

“Katrina?” Sami asked as she debated to put on make-up or not; screw it, she finally decided, all they were doing today was packing up their stuff for the trip to their homes.

“Yeah, daddy said that it’s in the Gulf now, and building into a real bad-ass storm.”

Their plan was for Bonnie to drop Sami off in Jackson and then, she’d drive on to Gulfport, on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Sami’s dad would be bringing Sami and all of her crap back that Friday, the 29th of August, to school in New Orleans. Bonnie would drive over that same day and they would reclaim their room at the dorm; it had been set up before they had left for summer break.

“Well, we could just drive to my home and hang out for a couple of days, if you’d like, and then see where the storm goes,” Sami suggested.

“That’s a thought,” Bonnie agreed, “We have to get your stuff there anyway, regardless.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, and maybe take a day-trip on the scoot to the trace for a picnic or something,” referring to the Natchez Trace Trail that wasn’t far from Sami’s parents’ farm, outside of Jackson.

“Sounds like a plan; probably ought to call your parents to let them know,” Bonnie suggested just before she jumped into the shower.

They left Memphis on the 26th and made the short drive to Jackson and then on to Sami’s home; Sami’s mom had a wonderful dinner waiting for the girls that night, and they ate way too much, but Sami’s mother was a wonderful cook, so how could they not?

The girls stayed up to watch TV after Sami’s parents went to bed, and tuned in the Weather Channel for the latest updates, which weren’t good, not good at all.

Katrina had strengthened considerably and the projected storm path put the eventual landfall of this monster storm someplace between Morgan City, Louisiana and Mobile, Alabama, which, bahis siteleri of course, included Bonnie’s home in Gulfport.

The next morning, the 27th, they were packing a picnic basket for their day-trip to the trace when Bonnie’s cell chirped.

“Baby, it’s daddy; listen to me now, I want you to stay up there at Sami’s until we know for sure what this damned storm is going to do, but I think we’re going to get a hell of a blow for sure,” Bonnie’s father said, “Mom and I are going to drive up to Birmingham and hunker down until we know for sure, so don’t worry about us.”

“Daddy, do you want me to drive there?” Bonnie asked, a bit worried about her father’s concern about this storm.

“No, baby, I don’t; I’d rather that you stay put, and stay off the roads, okay?”

“Okay, if you say so; ya’ll call me when ya’ll get there, okay,” and breaking the connection, they hung up.

“Huh,” Bonnie said to Sami, “This storm must really be a bad one; daddy and mom are heading out to Birmingham, to my aunt’s house until the storm’s over.”

“Huh,” Sami remarked.

Taking the less-used roads, the girls were at the trace and searching for a picnic spot to have lunch by a little before noon that day.

Bonnie was enjoying being with Sami on the scoot; Bonnie loved Sami’s scoot and loved even more, riding bitch behind her Sami-girl.

Spying a secluded trail-head, they decided to stop there, and after locking up the scoot, they walked onto the trail, picnic basket in hand. They walked about a half-hour, not meeting a soul along the way, though the trails off of the trace were a popular hiker’s dream.

Moving off the hiking trail to a copse of Southern Pines, they spread out their blanket and dished out their goodies, eating, enjoying the quiet and smell of the pines. After eating, they cleaned up their trash, stashing it in the basket for disposal, later. That done, they lay on their backs, on the blanket, looking up to the sky above the tall pines, enjoying just being with each other on this perfect summer day in Mississippi.

Rolling over to her stomach and propping herself on her elbows, Bonnie began kissing Sami; small kisses to Sami’s face, neck, ears, each kiss becoming a bit more sensual.

Sami was thoroughly enjoying Bonnie’s kisses to her face and all, loving the tenderness of Bonnie’s full lips on her skin. And when Bonnie’s hand drifted down to Sami’s flat belly, and began creeping under Sami’s jeans, Sami simply unbuckled her belt and unsnapped her jeans to make access to her honey-pot a bit easier for her Bonnie’s hand and fingers.

Sami opened her mouth to Bonnie’s tongue at the same time that Bonnie’s fingers had found her pussy; sucking on Bonnie’s tongue in hunger, she spread her legs a bit to accept the two fingers that Bonnie had inserted, slowly fingering Sami-girl, slowly driving Sami-girl a bit crazy with desire.

And when Bonnie had her two fingers as deep into Sami as she could reach, Bonnie fingered Sami to a long and sweet orgasm, one that took Sami’s breath away, literally, making it difficult for her to breathe as her climax shook her body.

Taking Bonnie’s hand in hers, Sami brought it to her lips, slowly sucking Bonnie’s fingers which were wet with Sami’s orgasmic juices. And after licking Bonnie’s fingers clean, Sami quickly pulled Bonnie’s shorts from her body, followed by her panties.

And in the seclusion of the copse of trees, less than fifty feet from the hiking trail, Sami went down on Bonnie Sue, her tongue bringing Bonnie to repeated orgasms, one after the other, for a deliciously long time.

They eventually packed up their stuff, somewhat redressed themselves, and arms around each other’s waists, the two bahis şirketleri lovers strolled back to Sami’s scoot, both of them a bit weak in the knees from the sex that they had so enjoyed.

Later they would both admit that the idea that they were having sex in public added to the thrill for them both.

“Girls?” Sami’s pops said, “Ya’ll need to see this,” referring to what was on the TV in the living room.

Sami and Bonnie had just returned from their romp in the woods and walked into the house, through the kitchen, the smell of Sami’s mom’s fried chicken wrapping both of

the girls in its little fingers.

On the screen, there was video being shown of the interstate and highways leading out of New Orleans, north or west, clogged with non-moving traffic, both sides of the highway being used as out-bound lanes of travel.

“The weather folks are all pretty much agreed that Katrina will hit New Orleans almost dead-on,” Pops said as his eyes, and theirs, stayed glued to the surreal scene before them, “and they’re saying that it could be a category 5 by tomorrow morning,” he informed them.

Category 5 is the strongest rating for hurricanes, indicating winds at the center of the storm to be over 150 mph.

Simply said, Katrina was the 800 lb. gorilla that was about to enter New Orleans’ living room and sit where she damned well pleased.

Sami and Bonnie said goodnight to Sami’s folks around midnight, and the girls stayed up all night, following the storm’s steady and sure path that was heading right to the Crescent City. They channel surfed between the cable news networks, but mostly stayed with The Weather Channel for updates.

Both had friends who lived in the city, or just outside of it, and both were worried about them and their safety. Forget calling them; cell towers were melting all over the Gulf Coast from the traffic bouncing off of the dishes.

The girls grabbed short naps but except for bathroom breaks, they stayed on the sofa, both mesmerized by the surreal events occurring before their eyes. At some point during the night of August 28th, live feeds from the Big Easy ceased, and America held its breath for Katrina’s onslaught of destruction that was about to be unleashed into the belly of our country.

August 29, 2005…The Night of the Living Dead.

The levees broke near 17th street during the early morning hours; they broke because the Corps of Engineers did a piss-poor job of building the damned things to begin with, never mind not having a plan in place, ‘in case’.

And of course, the waters flowing through the breeches flooded the Lower Ninth Ward, a predominately black neighborhood, hurting the people who could afford it the least; but Katrina spread its hurt all over the city and ‘burbs, the wealthy families on equal footing with the not-so-wealthy, as Katrina fist-fucked the Crescent City.

For the most part, except for wind damage, the French Quarters was spared the flooding, but it was one of only a handful of enclaves that was lucky in that regard. But soon, it wouldn’t matter anyway because when the city could no longer keep its infrastructure together, the entire metroplex of New Orleans became a living hell for the thousands of people trapped in the city, those that could not leave.

The most oft repeated analogy over the next few weeks and months, as the horribleness of Katrina’s wrath came to light, was that on August 29th, 2005, the City of New Orleans was a scene straight out of Dante’s Inferno.

Sometime that afternoon, when the girls could absolutely not stand another second of images, and horrible reports of death and destruction, they numbly walked up the staircase to Sami’s room, the room they were sharing.

Holding onto each other, both girls cried as they had not cried in forever, and blessedly, the fatigue pulled them into sleep, but not a restful sleep.

No, it would be months before restful sleep would be had by either.

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