Dr. Hooters Pt XXIV The VanderLeer Equestrian Academy was as isolated as a lepers' colony, but far more comfortable. Nestled away in the Blue Ridge Mountains in the extreme north-west corner of North Carolina, the Academy had played hostess to three generations of young, upper- crust, Southern womanhood. Sherrie was quickly given an idea of what the summer had in store for her. As soon as she got off the bus from Raleigh, and stepped into the van, she saw there were two other girls inside. One was a pale blonde with a blue vein running across her fore- head, the other an anorexic brunette with her nose buried in a magazine. "Hi!", said the blonde, "I'm Marilyn." She extended her arm minimally, making Sherry cover most of the distance between them to shake it, then she withdrew it almost immediately. Marilyn's voice was reedy and nasal, very disagreeable. Listening to it all the time would be worse than hearing her baby brother Rodrigo massage a balloon, Sherry thought. "I'm Sherry Rodriguez", she replied without enthusiasm, "from Mi- ami". The two girls in the van exchanged a knowing look. "Charmed", intoned the other girl, a lanky brunette with no chin, who returned directly to her magazine. Feeling it necessary to fill Sherry in on at least the rudiments of what the Academy was all about, Marilyn began speaking, as much to the other girl as to Sherry. "It's wonderful that we get a few of you people here each summer on scholarship. It adds so much diversity to the Academy..." Sherry felt the blood rising to her cheeks. "My father paid full tuition and board for my stay, thank you. All fourteen weeks in advance." This made the brunette look up form her magazine in surprise. Good, thought Sherry, a ten-week girl pretending to be planter- class. Probably a Baptist to boot. Well, this is gonna be an interesting summer. She turned to the snarky blonde. "What kind of horses do they have here at the Academy?" "Tennessee saddle horses, certainly", replied Marilyn. "What kind of horses do you-all ride in Miami?" She pronounced it My- am-uh. "My father has a stable of prize paso finos. My sisters and I ride 'em a lot. They're descendants of the horses the conquista- dores brought over from Spain", Sherry replied proudly. "Lovely", replied the brunette noncomittally. It was obvious that neither Marilyn nor the Baptist wanted to discuss equine blood-lines with a girl from a city they didn't even consider to be part of their country. Sherry turned around and stared out the window at the mountains until Mrs. Vanderleer, a grey-haired, all-business woman of fifty-plus, returned, introduced herself quietly, and started up the road out of Mercer to the Academy. Sherry felt her chest burning again, like it did on the airplane from Miami to Atlanta, except worse. She folded her sweater, so useless in torrid south Florida, but so necessary here, over the affected part, and rocked slowly to make the pain go away. "Do they have a lot of drug dealers in Miami?", asked the blonde. Sick of the shit, Sherry responded sarcastically. "Yeah. My dad made his stake in flake Peruvian cocaine, and mom was a gun- runner for the Contras." The Baptist lifted her head up from the magazine. "You've got a sense of humor", she droned. "That's good. You'll need it at the Academy." ************************************************************** Opening the door to the cabin, Sherrie threw her bags inside and stepped in. Her cabin-mate was hunched over her bed, ass in the air, rummaging through something on the other side. Sherrie drew her breath in at the sight of the jeans-clad ass, one of the finest she'd ever seen, and continued to stare in astonishment as the owner of that splendid ass drew herself up to her full height, and turned around to greet the newcomer. Sherrie's cabin-mate was a tall black girl, towering over Sherry by at least a foot. "Hi there!", she yelled, thrusting out a great hand and grasping Sherrie's own. "I'm Veronica. Veronica Talbot, from Virginia Beach." Sherrie stood pumping her arm in disbelief. Not only was Veronica the tallest girl she'd ever met, but also one of the most beautiful. Her rich cocoa-colored complexion was even and flawless. Her jet-black hair fell in natural waves over her sculpted shoulders and down her back, without a trace of processing. Dark, almond-shaped eyes glis- tened above a rich, generous mouth, and her cheekbones flaired slightly, giving her face an oval shape and an Asiatic flavor. "You're beautiful", stammered Sherrie. "Thanks", Veronica responded, sitting down on the bed. Sherrie noticed that Veronica's hair just brushed the mattress when she sat down. "But I can see why they put us together. Let the brown girls stay together. Hmm. Did they think you were a scholarship case, too?" Laughing, Sherry repeated what Marilyn had told her on the van. Veronica winced. "Half these white girls up here with the fine names are here on scholarship!", she laughed, "Either that, or they're six-weekers or ten-weekers. I'm here for fourteen weeks, myself, courtesy of my father James E. Talbot IV of Talbot Mo- tors, Virginia Beach" Unpacking her suitcases on her bed, Sherrie continued her story. "My folks paid for fourteen weeks up here. Papi said it would give me a little polish." "Oh, it will, it will, honey", exclaimed Veronica. "Mrs Vander- leer's big on polish. You'll learn how to dress at dinner, how to hold your fork, how to curtsey, all that important stuff. But, if you're darker than buttermilk, as they say in Virginia Beach, you'll learn a lot of other stuff here as well." "Whuddaya mean?" Veronica stretched her impossibly long legs out, covering her en- tire cot. "These white girls, their families have been sending them up here for three generations. They're Old South, very old school. Mostly they come here to put that little varnish of hypocrisy over the multiple layers of snobbery that passes for character in their circles." "Trouble is, the bloodlines have been getting a bit thin, and Daddy's bank account's getting a bit low, so they let a few rich young savages like you and me in each summer. Then they use the money to bring a few of their impoverished relatives up on schol- arship, and they make a big deal about the fact that the Academy allows scholarship girls up at all 'to foster respect for differ- ences and diversity', and hey presto! Everyone assumes that us darkies are here on scholarship and the secret is safe for anoth- er generation." "The bitches!", exclaimed Sherry. Veronica laughed, revealing a smile so white it almost glowed. "Don't let it bother you. By the way, what's your name?" Sherry. Sherry Rodriguez." "Don't let it bother you, Sherry-berry", Veronica continued. "This is my third summer at the Academy. Most of the girls mean well, even if they say some incredibly stupid things from time to time. It comes from having a limited view of the world. The re- al snoots are usually pushers from families on their way up, or bare-elbow gentility on their way down." "And they do have some beautiful horses here", she added. *********************************************************** That evening, Sherrie sat with the other forty-odd girls in the Acade- my's elegant dining room, as Mrs. VanderLeer gave the invocation. White linen blouses, white gloves, blue skirts and blazers with grey woolen stockings were required, and Sherry felt as out of character as if she had been wrapped in a tarp and kidnapped to the circus. She glanced over to Veronica, sitting with the third- year girls. Veronica winked back at her. Sherrie's chest began to tingle again, this time pleasantly, and Sherry almost giggled as wave after wave of sensation crested in- side her, as though she were being massaged by a thousand tiny hands. She stared up at Mrs. VanderLeer, all staid and serious, and thought how funny she would look if that proper blue skirt were suddenly lifted up over her head... When suddenly, from nowhere, a random breeze blew in from who knows where and did just that very thing. The solemn atmosphere, of course, was entirely destroyed, and Mrs. VanderLeer sent the girls away early, after a brief prayer. My God, Sherry wondered to herself, did I do that? ********************************************************* The next few days, with the vivacious Veronica as her guide, Sherrie fell into the round of activity at the Academy. Morning chapel was, naturally, a burden to be borne, but most of the girls felt this way, and it was soon over, followed by morning saddle exercises and riding. There was keen competition for the finest horses, and Sherrie, as a first-year girl, had to make do with what was left after the others got their pick. Most all of the horses at the Academy, though, were of a uniformly high qual- ity, and Sherrie didn't have to suffer a nag more than once or twice. Also, she distinguished herself early for her horsewoman- ship, and the other girls made certain that she had a mount wor- thy of her. There were Western-style and English-style riding classes. Sher- rie enjoyed them both; Western for the playful rough-and-tumble, English for the elegance of the habit. But best of all were the barrel races. The feeling of such raw animal power between her legs and under her control amply compensated Sherrie for the lack of boys at the Academy. The favorite horse at the Academy was, far and away, Silversheen, a powerful grey stallion who was kept as a stud at the Academy. He had racehorse blood in him, and he was uncommonly intelligent. Since Silversheen was far more valuable as a stud-horse than as a saddle horse, Mrs. Vanderleer limited the amount of time he was available to the girls for riding. One day, Sherrie surprised all of the girls one day by coming out in her corte sevillana, a traditional Spanish riding fashion from Seville. After seeing Sherrie in her Spanish riding habit, Mrs. Vanderleer decided to mount her on Silversheen for some promo- tional photos, so that Sherrie was able to spend the better part of the day with the beautiful animal. A bond formed quickly between the grey stallion and the girl from Miami, and Sherrie found it possible to guide Silversheen without using the reins or bridle, using a mere tap on the his flank to turn him or stop him. By the time the a couple of weeks had passed, Silversheen started to become restive each time he and Sherrie were separated,and wouldn't let anyone else ride him. Finally, Mrs. Vanderleer saw no alternative but to allow Sherrie to ride Silversheen regularly. Naturally, this enraged the other girls at the Academy, who saw no good reason why 'that little spic' from Florida had exclusive riding rights to the most beautiful horse at the Academy. If she had been making some headway against their ingrained prejudice with her vitality and outgoing nature, Silversheen's attachment to Sherrie united all of them against her. Fortunately, Veronica proved to be a good friend, and a loyal defender, although she was as disappointed at Silversheen's 'defection' as everyone else. "You sure made a hit with that horse, Sherrie-berry", she con- fessed one night. "I wouldn't mind knowin' how you did it". "It wasn't anything I did", Sherrie responded, "I just seemed to make a link with him. Silversheen's a very smart horse". Veronica turned out the light, but the cabin didn't darken for Sherrie. Her eyes adjusted, and she could see as clearly as if it were day. It made it difficult to sleep, until one day, Sher- rie realized she no longer needed to sleep. She remained awake the entire night, reading in the dark, and felt no weariness all the next day. Experimenting, she continued the next night and the next day, and found she no longer had any need whatsoever of sleep. Since night was the same as day for her, she took to slipping out of the cabin and spending the night in the surround- ing forest. One night, a brilliant full moon-lit night, Sherry was sitting in a clearing in the woods, and she created a glowing wheel of ener- gy. It formed in the air at her mental command, strengthening and growing as she continued to will it into being. Astounded by her new abilities, she didn't notice that Veronica had stolen away from the Academy and followed her into the woods. The tall black girl, clad in jeans and a white midriff blouse, stepped into the clearing. "My God, Sherrie", she exclaimed, "Did you do that?" "Yeah. Don't ask me how, though." Sherrie stepped up to her friend's side and watched as her wheel of energy turned slowly in the middle of the grove. It looked like a miniature galaxy, mil- lions of tiny lights all rotating in a tight spiral, shifting and changing colors as it turned. "Its beautiful", Veronica admit- ted. Then Sherrie looked at her friend. At her mental command, the tiny lights dissolved away from the spiral and drifted through the air in a swarm, to surround Veronica in a mantle of fairy- light. A diadem of brilliant diamantine lights twinkled in the black girl's hair like a princess's crown. "I can control it, Ronnie", Sherrie told her. "I made it and I can control it. And that's not all. I've been two days and two nights without sleep, and I don't feel in the least bit tired. Not only that, but I can see in the dark like a cat. Its like noon out here to me!" Veronica pulled a bill out of her front pocket. "How much is this, Sherrie?" "Its a ten, Ronnie" Pulling the bill close to her face to inspect it, Veronica gasped. "You're right!", she exclaimed. She pulled another bill from her pocket and held it up in the night air. "That's a one", Sherry said. Veronica fished around in her jeans, pulled out a forbidden pack of Newports, and stuck one in her mouth. Sherrie stepped close to her and lifted her index finger. A tiny point of light ap- peared at the tip. "My God, Sherrie", Veronica almost shouted, "you're E.T. You're one of them! I'm outta here!" She turned to run, but Sherrie put her hand on the black girl's shoulder. "Please, Ronnie!!", she pleaded, "Don't go. I need you here". "You're a space alien, just like in the magazines in the grocery store say!" "Please! I'm a girl, same as you. Please stay with me!", Sher- rie begged. Veronica calmed down when it appeared Sherrie was not going to eat her, vaporize her, or carry her away in her flying saucer. "Amy and Brittany, there back in the camp, are still awake", she explained. Sherry heard them giggling and making plans for a clandestine visit to town as she ratched up her auditory senses. "You can hear them from here?", asked Veronica, moving closer. "Yeah", replied Sherrie. "I can hear as well as I can see now. At first, I couldn't hear anything but the crickets and the owls, but I've learned to filter it." As Veronica moved across the grove, Sherry felt a familiar hunger move over her. She had known for some time that she was as power- fully attracted to girls as she was to boys, but Sherrie labored diligently to suppress these urges. Her Catholic upbringing, the disapproval of her family and friends, the general clumsiness of early adolescence all militated against the easy expression of her feelings. Only once or twice with Marsha Sanchez had her passionate nature overwhelmed these barriers and impelled her to- wards the gentle fury of girl-girl sex. Only with Marsha, she thought, and that damned Amanda Quinteros, who had burst into her life and changed it forever. Watching Veronica, Sherrie felt the desire rise to move her hands up those smooth black legs, up under the nightgown to those slen- der, yet well-muscled thighs, up to the hidden center of Veroni- ca's emerging womanhood, to reach around to those incredible, free- standing, self-propelled hemispheres of Veronica's remark- able.... "Hey, homegirl!", Veronica accused, "You lookin' at my black ass again, Aint ya?" The two girls sat down on a fallen tree trunk. Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, Sherrie felt hot tears rise as she beat back the urge to fall on Veronica's perfect, sculptured neck and shoulders, and cover them with burning kiss- es. "I'm sorry, Ronnie", she confessed, "is it that obvious?" Playing idly, Sherrie began to conjure up small, brilliant points of energy, like miniature stars fallen to earth in the Academy courtyard. as soon as she got one glowing properly, sherry sent it drifting over to settle on Veronica's nightgown, adorning her hair, her shoulders, her bosom, her waist. before long, the porch was bathed in the opalescent radiance of Sherrie's artifi- cial stars, and Veronica was clothed in diamantine light, like a princess in a fairy tale. "Veronica", Sherry whispered huskily, "you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out. You're also as good a friend as I've ever had, or am ever likely to have. Veronica turned her doe-like eyes on Sherry, blinking in amaze- ment at the witch-light that illuminated her nightgown, casting a hundred tiny shadows on the porch and beyond. The homegirl swag- ger disappeared, and the beautiful black girl began to tremble with mixed fear and astonishment. The conjured starlight vanished instantly, and the darkness of the night closed around them again, locking them into an intimacy that transcended the physical. Sherry sat at the edge of the grove, drinking in the fresh scents of the pine woods on every side, pulling down on her white tennis shorts so the rough wood wouldn't scratch her cheeks. Suddenly, Sherrie doubled over, and began pulling her shirt off. "Sherrie!", yelled Veronica, "What's wrong??" "My chest!", Sherrie replied. "It feels like its on fire". She stripped her shirt off and stood naked to the waist in the moon- light. Her small, pert, baseball-sized breasts stood out in full relief, with her nipples erect in the night air. "They're burn- ing up!", she moaned. Veronica put her hand on her friend's small, hard left breast. It was hot to the touch, but there was no sweat. Sherrie put her hand over Veronica's hand. "Ronnie", she said to her friend, "have you ever done any girl-girl stuff?" Veronica swallowed hard. "No", she admitted. "I'm going to ask you to do something you probably won't want to do, but if you love me, and if you don't want me to hurt, you'll do it." Thoroughly spooked but intrigued, Veronica nodded her head. "What's going on, Sherrie?" "There's a lot going on, Ronnie my dear, Ronnie my precious. More than I know, even, and I'm still guessing a lot. But my guess is that I'm going to grow an enormous set of tits here in the next few days." Sherrie began moving Veronica's hand so that it gently massaged her aching breast. "I'll tell you the whole story, but only if you do what I ask", she promised. But Veronica's other hand had already strayed to Sherrie's other breast, and was stroking in gently. Sherry moaned with delight as Veronica's cool fingers caressed the tight hotness of her breasts. Veronica moved in closer, and Sherrie reached behind her and began massaging her tight, high, jeans-clad ass. "Touch my nipples, Ronnie my heart, my dark goddess", she implored. In answer, Veronica bent down and extended a remarkably long, pink tongue to the tip of Sherrie's left nipple. Sherrie inhaled sharply, and thrust her chest upward into Veronica's hungry mouth, which closed over the rest of her breast and began sucking furiously. "Ronnie! Ronnie!", Sherrie gasped, as Veronica's fevered suck- ling began to cause the tightness and heat in her breasts to dis- solve into an indescribable sweetness. She passed her hands un- der Veronica's jeans and began to grab great handfuls of the black girl's generous ass. Sherrie moved her crotch into Veronica's upper thighs and began grinding it against her. In response, Veronica dropped her hands from Sherrie's breasts down to inside her shorts, where Sherrie released one hand from Veronica's ass to guide Veronica to her throbbing clit. "That's it, Ronnie love", she whispered hoarse- ly, "Right there!" Together they tumbled to the forest floor, where they grappled in a bed of soft pine needles. Sherrie moved her free hand around tot he front of Veronica's jeans, where to her surprise, she found that Veronica was sopping wet. With a practiced hand, she inserted two fingertips into the wetness, extracted Veronica's love muscle, and began feathering it with her fingertips. "Sherrie! Sherrie! Oh God!", Veronica began to moan, as she whipped her long thick mane across Sherrie's face. Having pulled away from Sherrie's breasts, she sought out her mouth, burying it in famished kisses. She bucked roughly on Sherrie's inquisitive fingers and redoubled her efforts on Sherrie's clit. Sherrie felt the pressure in her chest give way in tidal wave of sweetness and pleasure. Tingling as if from the prick of a thou- sand tiny needles, she convulsed in Veronica's arms. She felt Veronica contract roughly too, as she spasmed in orgasm. Sheep- ishly the girls kissed, and fell apart in each other's arms. ********************************************* "That was a sin, Sherrie-berry", said Veronica, still cradled by Sherrie's left arm in the delirious moonlight. "I know", whispered Sherrie softly. "I'm Catholic enough to know that, but not Catholic enough not to enjoy it when it happens." "How long has it been since you've been with a boy?" "Since two weeks before coming to the Academy" Veronica sighed deeply. "I broke up with Justin just before com- ing up here. We made love one last time just before I left. " She sighed again with the memory. "I should think they would ex- pect this sort of thing to happen, keeping us up here in the mountains, miles from the nearest swingin' dick." "Nah", Sherrie replied, "I don't think these little gringas even have cunts. Just cash registers down there. They seem to spend all their time trying to scoop enough money together so's they don't have to have anything to do with guys and can afford to spend the rest of their lives shopping." By the position of the stars, it was getting very close to dawn. Sherrie shook Veronica awake, and they walked arm in arm back to the Academy. Tossing her long black tresses over her shoulder and down her back, Veronica laughed infectiously, her brilliant white smile flashing even in the pale moonlight. "Ain't you some shit, Sher- ry-berry?", she laughed. "I mean, who would have thought that Supergirl would turn out to be a lezzie?" "I'm not Supergirl", Sherry responded darkly, "and I'm __NOT__ a lesbian!" "Oh yeah? Well, who else can light cigarettes with the tip of her finger, hear people whispering in the next county, and see in the dark like a cat?" Sherrie tucked her friend in, then showered and dressed herself in her Academy uniform as the first light of day filtered in through the cabin window. She'd have to manufacture some lie for Mrs. Vanderleer so that Veronica could spend the day in bed, but Sherrie herself felt wonderful, even after her third sleepless night.