Ripe for plucking

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At first the young girl pretended the noise she heard was nothing but the wind rushing through the tall pines outside the cabin. At the age of fourteen, she considered herself too old to be frightened by a few stray sounds in the dark. But she couldn't keep herself from ducking her head under the cover and burrowing her turned-up nose under the pillow. She pressed her adolescent breasts into the smooth sheet and hugged one arm across her trim midriff for comfort. The light scuffling sound came again, closer this time, and she drew the lengths of her slim thighs up under the covers until her rounded knees were tight against the hardened tips of her small brown nipples. She lay in a ball in the middle of the unfamiliar bed and felt her heart trip faster and faster. She had to admit now that the noise wasn't coming from outside the cabin at all.

Suddenly she heard a girl's voice whisper to her from out of the darkness. "Claire! Claire, are you awake? Don't be scared, it's just me. I slipped down to your cubicle barefoot so no one would hear me. Be real quiet and I'll slip under the covers with you," said the mysterious intruder.

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