There is a photograph, a picture taken many years ago. And it stands on the mantlepiece in our family home.

The photograph is dominated by a young woman, blonde and beautiful with her hair in pigtails. And the dappled winter light plays on her smiling face as she studies the map of a European snow bound city; it is glistening snowy white in the background.

I know exactly what is on her mind as I recognise the look that plays across her face. She is totally happy in her confident organiser way. For the woman in the photograph is my mother and that look has guided me for the last twenty years.

The simple snap, taken by my father on their honeymoon, shows my mother orientating herself for the adventure in Prague that she has organized. And it perfectly captures the mother she was destined to be.

I now know my father didn’t put the photo on our mantlepiece just to remember their vacation. Rather he knows what she knows, that she understands where they want to go, has their journey planned and she only needs to check the details to make sure all is right.

For she is the lodestar of our lives, loving us as she guides our way forward. And I now tear up every time I see that photograph, knowing she can’t do that for me anymore.

Sheltered, traditional, naïve maybe even a little bit rudderless. Not words that I would have recognized as applying to me, but ones that in reality did sum me up as I finished my second decade on earth.

And it was a phone call from my brother that October wishing me a happy twentieth birthday that planted an idea in my mind, an idea that grew into the first step on a journey, a journey that changed everything.

I have two older brothers and Elijah, my oldest brother, had shocked Dad by announcing the previous year that he was moving to Australia with his Aussie girlfriend Shelia.

“Faith,” Elijah said down the phone, with an unusually serious tone in his voice, “They have student visas here. You can come to study and work up to twenty hours a week.”

“Why would I do that?”

“What,” he said with a laugh, “Turn down an opportunity in order to stay at home waitressing. Or did you enrol in college in the US?”

“Not yet, mom…”

“No Faith you put your life on hold and gave mom two years before she died. Another year has passed and dad can certainly cope without you. Time for Faith to have faith in Faith.”

“Alright I will think about it,” I conceded, knowing I didn’t really have a plan let alone a better one.

“And I will help you by emailing some information about Australia.”

Surprisingly dad was enthusiastic about me going, though he gave Elijah a good talking too about looking after me.

Unlike his daughter whose initial enthusiasm was tempered by a growing unease about leaving the comfort of home, and the strangeness of the word overseas as I didn’t, until that point in time, even have a passport. But Shelia was also so enthusiastic about me visiting and, given I could stay with her parents, costs were so reasonable that I convinced myself that I had nothing to lose.

Life changing decision as it turned out.

As the day of departure got closer, I couldn’t hide my growing nervousness from dad. So he, with tears in his eyes, gave me a copy of that photo of my mother in Prague that will always stand on his mantlepiece.

“Don’t be nervous Faith,” dad said, “Keep this photo with you, I have always felt anchored by seeing it. Anyway, I imagine you will feel right at home. After all Australians are just like us. English speaking, and allies all the way to Iraq.”

But dad was wrong, oh so very wrong. While his little girl wouldn’t get to confirm whether all of Australia was different from home, sure as hell, Sydney ended up being nothing like Montana.

Dad’s message of easy comfort started to unravel as I sat in the airport waiting for my plane. The idea of leaving a Montana winter to arrive in summer having had a day disappear on me did my head in.

Fourteen long hours flying across the Pacific and losing a day seemed bizarre enough. But summer, can it really be summer in November?

The reality of the heat hit me as I walked out of the Sydney airport terminal with Elijah and Shelia. Hot and sticky and not yet midday. Oh God, I thought, what have I let myself in for.

Driving from the airport, on the wrong side of the road I might add, we crossed the Harbour Bridge and I had a glimpse of the Sydney Opera House, looking like a sail-boat in the shimmering water. Its unexpectedness took my breath away, betraying how little I had actually thought about the place I would be living in.

And then in coastal suburbia we passed beach upon beach, all packed with people. Unlike home where the water was hours away, this place seemed connected and defined by its relationship to the sea. And that included Shelia’s family home which was set back on a hill overlooking a wide expanse of sand.

I was welcomed and asked to treat her place like home. And so began my days in Australia, a succession of hot days and sticky nights.

Every day, often more than once, I would put on a bikini and with footwear that no one could agree on what they were called, I heard thongs, jandals or flipflops, head across the burning sand to dive into the refreshingly cool water.

And every night, Shelia’s dad would announce he was going to put a few shrimps on the barbie, and we would have dinner, though puzzlingly it was only occasionally actually prawns, out on the deck where we ate, talked and laughed accompanied by the constant chirping of cicadas.

The food, the noises, like even the birds sounded different as they were all parrots, the sticky humid smells, and even the lower drinking age were all so strange compared to home. And as for the words they used, like lift for elevator and taxi for cab, chatting had me in mental gymnastics translating what was said and never feeling I could quite keep up with the conversation.

One evening I went into my bedroom and screamed. And the family came rushing and, when I pointed out the large hairy spider on the wall, they laughed.

“It is only a Huntsman.” Shelia’s dad patiently explained, “They are harmless.” And the next day he took me outside and found me a funnel web spider in the backyard, and added with a smile, “Don’t go too close, these ones are deadly poisonous.”

Fuck, I thought, who wants to live in a country that has poisonous spiders in the back yard. But I tiptoed more carefully from then on.

At the beach I got to meet Shelia’s friends, almost all of them bronzed by the sun with tight bodies hardened by swimming and, more exotically, surfing. I tried the board and they laughed as I easily and frequently, fell off into the water.

Their laughter made me determined and, oh so slowly, I got the hang of standing on a surf board in the summer waves. But their conversation and accents still left me behind, struggling to work out what to say.

They were a so much more diverse group than the white bread set I had grown up with. Dreadlocks and drugs. Gay and straight. European and Asian. But with all their teasing banter there was an undercurrent of acceptance, and I slowly got more accustomed to friendship the Australian way.

But those differences left me still a little nervous and tongue tied. And, almost as quickly as I recognised my continued nervousness about fitting in, I recognized something or I should say someone else.

She was, like a lot of Australians, of Chinese origin, elfin, not breaching five foot, and slim, almost without breasts. I watched her and she seemed like the emotional heart of the group, always making sure everyone was okay. And always making suggestions to someone to help someone else with something.

Her name Bixie, Shelia told me one evening, was traditional and like her namesake she had the talent for assisting anyone who suffered from bad Feng Shu. I had no idea whether what Shelia said was right, but I did see Bixie the Pixie, as the boys had christened her, always looking out for others.

It didn’t take long for her to notice that I had noticed. And she sidled up to me one day at the beach and said, “Most don’t notice, but you do. I like that; so Faith any requests?”

I giggled, “Maybe I will fit in more if I can surf better. But tell me what should I call you.”

“Surfing, easy babe. While I try to make people use my Chinese name it is a losing battle and so just call me Pixie.”

So we spent an hour in the water together every day and I learnt the basics of surfing and as a result came to be a little more respected by all.

And amazingly right from the start there was an easy, almost intuitive, style that Pixie and I had with each other. She often would add something idiomatic to what I said, and that helped me break through my nervousness, enabling me to increasingly feel able to join in the banter.

But even though I had started to fit in, I still, last thing every night and first thing every morning, gazed at the photograph of my mother in Prague. The winter light that played on her face felt connected to the summer light that now played on mine. But I envied her the map she confidently held in her hand.

The newness and strangeness of Sydney was a constant source of scary wonder, and I had no idea how long I was going to stay and what I was going to do.

And then something even stranger and more unexpected happened. His name was Stephan, a blond surfer dude, whose Aryan good looks and tight body were kind of attractive. I hadn’t dated all that much back home, and really hadn’t had a full-time boyfriend, but if I had a type when it came to boys, he would have been my type.

One day there was this party and all Shelia’s friends were there. I was, of course, hanging back a little, drinking vodka cruisers which it turned out packed more of a punch than I had expected. And while taking in everyone, I watched Pixie and Stephan most intently as they were deep in conversation.

And when they took that conversation into one of the others rooms, I couldn’t help myself. I followed wondering what they were up to. But I was conscious of the strangest feeling, I was envious of their connection.

At the doorway I paused, close enough to hear but not close enough to be seen, or so I thought.

“But Stephan, you have to see it from a girl’s point of view,” Pixie was saying.

“Which is what, Pixie?

“Well not all girls like sucking cocks.”

I was surprised and curious as to why they were having this particular conversation.

And then Stephan asked, “Do you like sucking cock?

“I doubt it. It isn’t actually relevant as I am lesbian.”

For some reason my heart leapt into my mouth, Pixie was a lesbian, who knew.

But that thought was put on hold as Stephan continued, “But you like sucking strap-ons, so why not my cock?”

Strap-ons, I thought, drinking my vodka cruiser, oh my God. And Pixie looked over at me and smiled, adding, “You don’t hide very well Faith. Could you help me out here?"

I wandered over realising that, despite the alcohol in my system, I was as nervous and uncertain as I had ever been. Wandering over to my closest friend in Australia to discuss sucking cocks with her and the hottest guy in the group.

“So,” said Pixie, putting an arm around me, “What, Faith, do you think about cock sucking?

I giggled and replied, “An essential skill for a girl wanting to avoid pregnancy.”

“Yes,” Pixie replied, “I can see that advantage. But a strap on is even better as you don’t get pregnant from fucking it.”

“But,” Stephan added, “It has to be said that a cock feels better in the mouth than a strap on. Isn’t that right Faith?”

“I have no experience of sucking a strap-on, so I can’t say,” I replied.

“And I have no experience of sucking a real cock, so I can’t say either,” Pixie added.

Why I said what I said next I will never know, maybe it was the vodka cruisers or maybe because Stephan was actually as nice as he was cute. And maybe because deep down I did really think that sucking cock was all there was to my sex life.

But with an air of confidence that definitely originated in the vodka, I said, “Well there is only one way to find out, drop you shorts Stephan.”

And he did, and Pixie and I watched his large cock instantly grow into life.

“So what do you think, Pixie?” I asked.

“It's ok. This one isn’t bad as that prick isn’t attached to a prick.”

Stephan smiled and added, “As I am not a prick, I should point out that we can stop at any stage.”

“Thanks babe,” Pixie replied as she kissed him on the cheek, “But I am interested to see this, so long as you want to Faith.”

And for some reason I did, not just because I liked Stephan, but also because Pixie had been so good to me, helping me integrate into Sydney, and the least I could do is help her with something she was less familiar with.

So I dropped to my knees and licked the head of his cock, which came alive with my tongue. Licking and then sucking with my hand gripping the bottom of his shaft, I soon heard Stephan moan. My eyes locked with Pixie’s and she smiled obviously appreciating my demonstration of my cock sucking skills.

But unfortunately, like boys back home, Stephan lacked in stamina what he made up for in cuteness. And I soon felt his cock twitch, and he spurted his cum into my mouth.

And as I sucked him dry, I heard Pixie say urgently, “Yes I can do this. Kiss me Faith.”

Instinctively I stood and Pixie and my lips met, and my mouth opened and her tongue invaded my mouth. And as we kissed Stephan’s cum leaked from my mouth into hers.

We kissed and kissed until we locked eyes and swallowed, and I asked, “Well?”

And Pixie replied, “That was okay, thanks Stephan you cum isn’t as gross as I feared.”

Stephan smiled, “I am pleased to have helped your education Pixie, and yours too Faith.”

“Mine,” I questioned, “I already knew how to suck cock.”

“Indeed,” Stephan replied, “And you are very good at it. But my reference to helping your education Faith was about you kissing Pixie.”

Oh fuck, I thought, realising that my knickers had dampened, and knowing that most of that happened while kissing Pixie and not while sucking Stephan’s cock.

The next morning Shelia came in to my room bearing tea, saying, “Time to wake up sleepy head.”

I groaned and sat up rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Big night wasn’t it,” Shelia observed.

“You could say that,” I shyly replied, as I grabbed the tea, “Party was something else, too much vodka.”

“Does something else include kissing girls, sister-in-law?” Shelia asked slyly without a hint of embarrassment.

Not getting embarrassed was beyond me, I blushed and stuttered, completely unsure of what to say.

“Don’t spill the tea,” Shelia said, grabbing my hand, “I shouldn’t tease you when you have a hot drink in your hand.

“Um…” I stuttered.

“Spit it out sister, the words not Stephan’s cum I mean.”

“Um… well…”

“For God sake just say.”

“Well um.”

“I guess you brother is right,” Shelia observed.

“What?”

“His view is that all these hot surfer dudes haven’t captured your attention. But Pixie just has to walk past and you get so distracted. So, he is convinced you are more into her than a hot guy like Stephan.

“But…”

“But nothing. Being bisexual or gay is ok. And just so you know, Pixie isn’t really bisexual.”

"Well, oddly, I have some idea of that after yesterday," I giggled.

“Good, she wants to help Stephan but she only usually has eyes for girls. And given that way she looks at you, I know she would be open to fucking you honey.”

“She is Asian.”

“I know, how cool is that. The perfect opportunity for you to shatter your racial and sexuality norms.”

“You’re bad.”

Shelia took my half-drunk tea and put it on the floor. Taking my hands in hers, she whispered, “It’s not bad to want you to grow into the person who truly are. It not bad for a brother and his fiancé to help his sister.”

Later that afternoon Elijah drove Shelia and I up to Palm Beach where the surf was better. My brother and future sister-in-law got their boards and joined the gang in the water catching waves.

I swam in the refreshing water and sat on the sand pondering the last twenty-four hours. The party had bought with it a new way of seeing things. I seemed to like kissing girls, and was intrigued by the talk about strap-ons.

And as I saw Pixie surf a wave, I owned up to what Shelia had implied, namely the fact I liked one girl more than the others.

Just as I was being honest with myself for the first time ever, Pixie walked up the beach, board under her arm. Safely staring behind my sun glasses, I couldn’t help again notice how slight her 4-foot 10 inches figure was. Boyish hips and tiny a-cup breasts, didn’t detract from her appeal, to me she looked so sexy.

She dumped her board in the sand, and said, “So what’s up Faith?” as she sat beside me.

“Hey,” I said plucking up my courage and wanting to get what I was about to do over with, “I see Sandals restaurant is open.”

“Biggest time of year for them I guess.”

“Let’s go tomorrow night.”

“Just the two of us?” Pixie asked, with a hint of a smile.

“Yep, but you have to dress up. And yes, I do mean a dress.”

Pixie laughed, but then her face turned serious, “You know that, despite what we did with Stephan, I’m gay don’t you.”

“Good. It would be kind of awkward if the first girl I invited on a date turned out to be straight.”

Pixie giggled, adorably, “I would love to. And for you I will turn into super-femme.”

I fished my mobile out of my bag and rang the restaurant and booked for seven. Afterwards Pixie said, “You are not the same girl who arrived in Sydney.”

“Definitely not. I have grown up and lost some of my prejudices. This is actually the first time I have ever asked anyone out.”

“Then I am honoured. Go take the board out.”

“And leave you alone with Stephan?” I said with a giggle.

“I’m cool, you minx. I will keep my eyes focused on you, watching you surf and enjoying a delicious feeling of anticipation.”

“Of tomorrow?”

“Yeah babe. We are going to have fun.”

In the surf I surprised myself by executing a perfect turn, my first time ever. Of course, trying to repeat the feat resulted in two face plants.

And looking over at Pixie in the distance I swear her body language suggested she was sniggering.

When I got out of the water everyone was sitting down in one large group and so Pixie and I didn’t significantly interact, though when I caught her eye we both grinned.

And that was enough for Shelia as, as soon as we got into the car, she asked, “Spill the beans.”

“Nothing really, Pixie and I are having dinner tomorrow”

My brother looked at his fiancé meaningfully, and that was enough for her to back off and nothing more to be said.

Until the next afternoon when Elijah screamed, “For fucks sake, calm down.”

“But I have nothing to wear.”

“Shelia,” he yelled.

And she came running, “What’s up babe.”

“Will you take my fucking sister shopping and help her buy a fucking dress for her date with fucking Pixie tonight before she drives me fucking insane.”

“Date? So, it is really a date, that’s wonderful,” Shelia said, giving me a hug.

“Not if she doesn’t calm down it’s not. Here take my card and charge it.”

I was stunned into silence, Elijah was paying, “You don’t have to.”

“Maybe not. But I think mum would expect me too.”

I burst into tears on Shelia shoulders and she then endured what she later described as a fraught shopping trip. But a relatively expensive little black dress was acquired.

And so, Sandals seated two young women in little black dresses, braless, hair styled, and makeup discrete. And I felt wonderful as I sipped a glass of Riesling that Pixie had ordered.

For a moment I allowed myself to wonder why.

Why was a girl from a farm in the Midwest sitting in a beach side restaurant in summer in December?

Why was a girl who at school talked about dating a broad-shouldered young farmer for whom a new pair of jeans was a big night out, sitting with a petite Chinese-Australian woman in a gorgeous little black dress?

Why was I so sure that me, who had barely had a relationship, would have anything in common with Pixie who seemed to put it mildly, somewhat adventurous?

And why, though no one could every suspect this, why was my pussy leaking like it had never leaked before?

I had stepped into the unknown, and nerves were about to claim me when Pixie took my hand, “I know, I feel it too. Let it go and relax, and let’s enjoy the food and each other’s company.”

“Easy for you to say. And how the hell did you know?”

“This is all new to you Faith. And you don’t yet realize just how unusual we are in being so intuitive with each other.”

I giggled, and said, “I have never felt more in need of one of my mother’s maps, to know what to do.”

“Don’t overthink it. I guess you mum would have said, what feels right will be right.”

And Pixie was right, we just chatted and laughed as we ate scrumptious fish, and drank a glass or two more wine. And, just a little giggly, we tottered in our heels out of the restaurant and outside Pixie looked me in the eye and said, “Want to come back to my place, Faith.”

And for the first time in a while I didn’t think about my answer, I just reacted with how I felt, “Yes please.”

And I was conscious that the flood in my knickers had suddenly reached biblical proportions.

The door slammed behind us and I felt her breath on my neck as Pixie ran a finger up the back of my arm. I froze, just embracing the feel of the goose bumps that emerged on my arm.

Pixie must have wondered why I froze as she asked, “You ok?”

I turned to face her and ran my fingers through her hair, “Everything about you is intense, it is such a good feeling. Even the touch on my arms, goose bumps.”

She smiled, a demure look I had never seen before. So gorgeous.

“A lot of barriers had to come down for me to be here. And I intend to enjoy every minute with you Pixie. My brother told me this afternoon that I am giving him every indication that I need to make love to you.”

“Elijah said that?”

“Well he did actually use the word fuck.”

Pixie giggled, “And what do you think?”

“It taken me a while to realize just how much my brother understands me.”

“Who knew that he was the most intuitive and emphatic person we know.”

And Pixie stood on tip toes and her arms went around my shoulders and her lips met mine. And instinctively my hands pressed against her butt and she wrapped her kegs around my hips. And I knew exactly what to do as I carried her to the bedroom. And she knew exactly what to do when we got there, slipping off her dress and panties and helping me off with mine.

Despite the breeze gently drifting through the apartment, I could feel the heat and sticky humidity. And hear the sounds of cicadas chirping. Such an Australian summer night.

A little moonlight came through the open window in her bedroom, just enough for me to see Pixie smile.

“You just going to lie there appreciating the Aussie summer, or are you going to kiss me.”

I giggled, “You’re bossy.”

“No, I’m needy. And you haven’t kissed me properly today.”

I placed my lips of hers, gently embracing the softness of her lips. Not a full kiss, as suddenly I felt self-conscious.

“What is it sweetie?” Pixie asked.

“With you it all feels so new.”

“It’s special for me too sweetie. Let’s enjoy what comes naturally. And we can go as fast or slow as you want.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I know I want you. But…”

“Shush,” Pixie said, putting her fingers on my lips, “You don’t need to explain. We already have a connection, you can trust in it. And believe me, I want you to like me so much that you keeping coming back for more.”

Her words implied a relationship, and that sent a shiver through me. And the recognition that while Australia had disorientated me up too now, I felt that finally had a sense of belonging. Naked in Pixie’s bed was, what was the aboriginal word, yes Murrumbidgee.

“With you I don’t have barriers,” Pixie added, as she drew my head to hers. Our bodies, side by side, snuggled closer as our fingers traced abstract patterns over each other’s back.

Our lips met and she ran her tongue across my top lip. I shivered with the sensuality of her touch actually savouring my first proper kiss with a woman.

And I surprised myself by taking the lead, letting my tongue drift out and touch hers. The world stopped as we held the position for a moment or two, just simply enjoying the feel of lips and tongues touching, my whole body trembling with the contact.

My mouth moulded onto hers, delicately at first, and I experienced the first time her gentle kiss that seemed to communicated something more, much more, than any kiss that had gone before it.

Caressing and exploring, our tongues teased each other, and we gently kissed for what seemed like an eternity.

Gentleness turned more passionate as our tongues engaged, that kiss felt like heaven and seeped all through my body, reaching my pussy which suddenly seeped incredibly strongly, flooding my thighs with my juices.

“I can smell your arousal,” Pixie whispered oh so seductively.

“I have never felt like this before,” I said conscious of my lack of self-consciousness and of the goose bumps that emerged on me from Pixie’s delicate touch.

Pixie was the first one to break our pattern of increasingly passionate kisses. She eased me onto my back and then kissed my forehead and eyes with little butterfly kisses. I heard myself moan once and then a second time when she kissed my ear and then ran her mouth down my neck.

Pixie obviously noticed the moans as she returned to the exact spots and kissed them again and again, drawing even deeper sighs of pleasure from me.

Then she trailed her tongue down my breastbone and over my tummy. Little kisses searched out my sensitive spots. And when she found them, Pixie paid particular attention to them. I was squirming as Pixie kissed her way back up my body.

And squirming even more when Pixie ran her tongue around my nipple, gently caressing it until it was hard. When she gently sucked the hard nipple, I squealed in delight. Pixie moved across to my other breast and teased that nipple, I sighed in absolute pleasure. Round and round Pixie’s tongue went massaging my nipple and then sucking firmly.

“Oh my God… yes,” I moaned.

After a deeply affectionate kiss, I turned Pixie on her back and ran my tongue across Pixie’s neck.

Little kisses across Pixie’s face and neck only drew, as I expected, a smile from Pixie. I was about to discover one of Pixie’s little secrets. As I ran her tongue across Pixie’s breast bone and down over her tummy, Pixie smile turned into one of anticipation. And when I started to kiss her way back up Pixie’s body, she started to squirm.

Then when I ran her tongue gently across Pixie’s puffy little left nipple she howled with pleasure.

I looked up, raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked, “You seem sensitive?”

“Very, very sensitive.”

I lowered her head and ran her tongue across Pixie’s puffy nipple for a second time. And, as I expected, her nipple exploded into life. My tongue circled and circled her hard-little bud and Pixie’s moans became increasingly intense.

I finally sucked Pixie’s nipple into her mouth, drawing a squealed, “Oh God… yes,” from her. As I sucked, I drew increasingly loud moans from her.

When I moved my mouth across to Pixie’s right nipple and placed the most delicate of butterfly kisses on it. Pixie moaned and started squirming in anticipation. I looked up at Pixie and waited until she looked at me. Surprising myself with my confidence, I held her gaze teasingly until Pixie groaned, “Please… Don’t stop.”

I lowered my head and licked Pixie’s nipple, and while Pixie had moaned when I licked her, she fair screamed and squirmed even more when I sucked her right nipple.

And she then surprised me by flipping me on my back and kissing her way across my chest. Her attention to my breasts was just perfect but she then kissed her way down my tummy.

I just knew what she was about, and I said, “Hey you don’t have to do that.”

“Maybe not Faith, but I really want to. I like giving pleasure and I like you. So, it is the most natural thing in the world to want to do.”

I couldn’t resist and I smiled happily as Pixie continued to kiss over my tummy, and then soft little kisses down my left thigh and up my right thigh. I was surprised by her gentleness.

Then Pixie's lips gently landed on my pussy, as lightly as a butterfly. A first for me and the touch was as sensual as it was delicate.

"Ohhhhh....." I sighed.

I watched Pixie use her lips to gather my juices and then run her mouth up and through my labia. A pause and then Pixie’s lips slide down. She used her thumbs to very gently spread me even more open. Then Pixie’s upper lip ran feather soft over my clit and meet the lower lip right at the opening.

Pixie kept licking and kissing all over my pussy, always very slowly. It was if she was savouring every taste and touch of my sex. And I even heard the occasional little slurp as she sucked.

I realized that I so loved what Pixie was doing and started to squirm. A lot. And made little almost cat like meows of pleasure.

I moved my knees even, wider. Silently seeming to beg Pixie for more. But rather than more, Pixie started moving even slower and even softer. Her slightest touch was taking my breath away, playing me with perfection.

After what seemed like an eternity Pixie ran her tongue straight up my pussy in a single maddeningly slow, agonizingly light lick, lighter over my opening, somehow even more so over my clit.

Then tongue extended, Pixie focused and lapped at my clit like a kitten takes milk. My eyes closed and I succumbed to new but wonderful feelings, softly calling out Pixie’s name, again and again.

A deep sigh escaped from me as Pixie’s tongue curled and pressed inside my opening. Circling around inside, tracing my circumference. Then slowly, deliberately Pixie moved back to my clit.

I was slipping into a new-found ecstasy. Driven by the twirling and lapping of her wonderful tongue. Pixie's tongue caressed my clit a little faster and firmer, and my breath shuddered in tiny little gasps.

My fingers curled gripping the sheets. My gasps turned into moans. My hips pushed up like they wanted to force themselves deep into Pixie’s face. My body started trembling. I became very vocal, “Oh yes… Pixie. Oh fuck, you are magic. Yes… Make me cum.”

Pixie’s started sucking my clit. "Oh my god. Yes… yes," I screamed and I came. Hard, harder than ever before.

The orgasm shuddered through me and then I slowly unwound, relaxed and smiled. A smile so very, very sweet as Pixie sensuously kissed her way back up my body, still like she was being a butterfly. Soft and slow.

Pixie ended up lying on top of me, resting her cheek on my shoulder. One of my bigger breasts pressed against her tiny breast. I slowly brought my arms around to hug Pixie even closer.

"That was beyond words, Pixie. I loved it," I whispered, kissing Pixie’s forehead, “I didn’t know I could feel like that.”

“My pleasure,” she replied, “I love that you had the confidence to let me.”

And I surprised myself my confidently saying, “In a moment I will really make sure it is your pleasure. Just let me recover my breath.”

“Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes, I think I do. Let’s see if I was actually programmed at birth to know how to love a girl.”

“One of your mother’s maps, maybe,” Pixie said with a giggle.

“Maybe, though not one she ever actually drew for me.”

I eased Pixie onto her back and rolled on top of her. Then kissed and kissed before sliding my body down hers. Running my tongue across Pixie’s nipples drawing groans of pleasure from her. As my mouth kissed its way further down Pixie’s body, my eyes never left hers, even when my knees landed on the floor with my face inches from Pixie’s pussy.

It felt like a moment of truth for me: how would I feel? But I wasn't prepared for the response I drew from Pixie. Pixie smiled so wantonly and spread her legs giving me total access to her most private of places.

And I was stunned by the response that drew from me, “You want this baby girl, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes, like you wouldn’t believe. Please…”

Running on instinct, I blew on Pixie’s pussy causing her to shiver. My fingertips grazed Pixie’s wetness and I almost reverently spread her pussy lips. My mouth delicately kissed the folds of Pixie’s pussy, tasting her and liking my first taste of her tangy juices. Then my tongue curled and slide into her opening, and she sighed as I slowly fucked her with my tongue.

Her squeal of frustration when my mouth left her pussy was followed by a deep sigh of satisfaction when she felt my finger slide into her. Somehow I just knew to pump her with my finger a few times before burying it in her wet pussy.

I then slid two fingers into Pixie and pumped her with my fingers again and again. Pixie’s hands went to her breasts and she flicked her nipples with her fingers, moaning as I buried both fingers in her incredibly tight pussy.

My tongue found and flicked against her clit for the first time, gentle teasing little touches. Pixie whimpered and her nipples stiffened. She surprised me by pulling her stiff little nipples and pushing her pussy into my face, seemingly indicating her desperation to cum.

I looked up at Pixie with the most innocent look and asked, "Am I doing a good job?"

“Little minx. You are doing a fucking good job. Don’t you dare stop."

"Ooh," I smiled, "you're really wet now."

I surprised myself, and even I found it teasing erotic. God only knows what is was doing to Pixie.

My tongue, soft and wet, returned to fluttering over her clit while Pixie pulled on her nipples, both sending more shock waves through her body, as she screamed with the sensory overload.

Pixie could barely speak, the intensity was becoming all consuming. Then she whispered, "Yes. Oh my God… yes,” and began tremble all over. I thought she was about to cum right then and there, but I instinctively backed off, stopped playing with her clit, and with fingers alone slowly moving, held her close to but not over the point of no return.

My tongue then flicked out and licked Pixie’s clit like it was melting ice cream. Slow and languid letting the pleasure build again. And then, making the sexiest shape with my mouth, I sucked her clit between my lips. Pixie just closed her eyes and let me do my magic on her.

When her hips started to grind against my face, I, while still lavishing attention on Pixie’s clit, curled the two fingers deeper into her pussy. Pixie gasped.

Pixie increased the intensity with which she squeezed her nipples, while I never let up with both my mouth and fingers on her pussy. Working as one, totally focused on Pixie, I couldn't believe the powerful reactions we were drawing from her.

And then Pixie just let everything go, in a way I have never heard before, "Fuck yes. Oh God. I… God yes. Make me cum. Holy shit."

For a moment she dangled on the precipice of pleasure and then she tumbled over, seemingly, delirious with the intensity of her orgasm.

Like mine her orgasm shuddered through her, rendering her mute for a while. Until she opened her eyes and looked down at me and smiled. At smile of much more than thanks, a smile I recognized as one infused with total affection.

I snuggled next to her and felt as calm, relaxed and peaceful as I have ever felt.

And the next thing I knew I was waking, with the morning sun streaming into her bedroom, snuggled with Pixie like otters despite the heat. Consequently, I was so sweaty as was Pixie when I ran my hand over her back.

Just staring at her as she slept, I felt a warmth in me that I had never felt before. The strangest feeling of need for her, made me desperate for her to wake up.

I just couldn’t resist and my hand crept out and my fingers touched her nipple which came alive in my hand. Firm and hard and as I touched them, Pixie whimpered. And then, with her eyes still closed, she added, “Pinch them Faith.”

And I did, gently of course and she opened her eyes and giggled, “Good morning gorgeous, you can pinch harder you know. I won’t break.”

“Like that,” I said as I firmly squeezed.

“Fuck yes, baby girl.”

“You know you seem more adventurous in bed than me,” I said as I pinched the other nipple.

“So far,” she replied before she kissed me, “want to find out how adventurous you can be?”

I just nodded, confident that Pixie wouldn’t push me too far.

When her fingers pinched my nipples, I felt myself moan, as shockwaves ran straight to my pussy.

“I take it you like that,” she accurately observed with a giggle.

And I gently smacked her butt, and she just stared at me and smirked and landed a firm smack on my butt. And I replied in kind and watched her eyes sparkle with delight when I landed another firmer smack on her cute butt.

“Interesting,” she said with a smirk, as she put a finger in her mouth and covered it with saliva, “We will be doing more of that.”

Then her hand drifted across my arse and her wet finger circled my anus, stimulating a set of nerves I didn’t even know existed.

“Like that?” Pixie asked, and my whimpers as her finger penetrated my arse answered that question for her.

So, she added, “Touch mine Faith, I love that.” And so, with our eyes locked together, I copied her and licked my finger and ran it around and around her butt, no I decided to call it arse hole.

“Oh God,” she whimpered, “I love that we seem to just click in bed.

As her finger stimulated my arse, the first time that had ever happened, I felt my pussy leak. I was so turned on touching her and being touched by her.

And from the look on her face Pixie was too.

“Trust me Faith?” she whimpered.

It only took a second for me to know that answer, “Yes,” I replied.

“Good because MissPixie wants to fuck her baby girl.”

The words MissPixie and baby girl sent a shiver through me. In truth I didn’t know exactly what Pixie had in mind but I so wanted her to teach me.

Pixie restrained my arms behind my head and tied me to the bed. I then watched as she put on a strap on. And then crawled cat like over me and stared into my eyes as the strappy grazed my pussy.

“Ask for it baby girl?” she whispered.

“Please?”

Pixie smacked my arse, “You can do better than that baby girl.”

I moaned my desperation clear, and somehow I just knew the words she wanted, “Yes Miss Pixie, fuck me with your girl cock. Take and own your baby girl.”

Pixie raised her eyebrow, “Really baby girl, You don’t want gentle do you?”

I felt my head shake.

My legs hung spreadeagled off the bed, my arms restrained above me, with my dripping pussy right on the literal and figurative edge.

Pixie lined up her strap-on, letting the head penetrate the folds of my tight pussy. I whimpered, as turned on as I ever remembered. Still Pixie was careful, entering me slowly, and gradually, inch by inch, the pink plastic cock slide in.

I was relishing being filled and Pixie too seemed to relish the pressure of the base against her clit. Bottoming out, impaling me, Pixie leaned briefly on her elbow to bite my ear and whispered, "I so want this, my beautiful sexy girl."

I just moaned back in response, beyond words, totally into the pleasure of my pussy being filled.

Pixie pulled nearly all the way out and started a gentle rhythm of long strokes until my legs locked around the small of her back and my hips rose to increase the friction on my sensitive bits.

I enjoyed that for a minute or two but it didn’t seem enough. "Harder, Pixie. Please just fuck me harder."

Pixie sped up, thrusting repeatedly into my wet pussy and I started moaning and speaking indecipherable gibberish. In and out, in and out and each time she bottomed out, my eyes popped back open with the force, knowing in the depths of my mind I was, for the first time ever, being fucked good and proper.

And, just as I was on the very brink of an explosively satisfying orgasm, Pixie stopped. And asked, "Who do you belong to?"

“You, Pixie,” I answered strongly and emphatically, accepting the verbal path necessary to restart the pounding my pussy obviously wanted.

"Whose girl are you?"

"Yours baby. Please."

"Say it again. Keep saying it."

"I'm your girl. I'm your girl. I'm desperate, I want you to fuck me.”

In a single thrust Pixie was back deep inside me, wildly driving the strap-on in and out of my sopping wet pussy. I arched my back up as far as I could, and thrusted up so violently that only my shoulder blades and head remained touching the bed.

I was lost in lust. Sweat dripped freely from both of our brows, and there was grunting and whimpering as Pixie impaled me, and my hips rose to impale myself on the dildo. The frantic frenzy signalled two approaching orgasms and, with a loud howl of pleasure, I exploded, orgasming seemingly throughout my whole body before collapsing breathless back onto the bed as Pixie’s orgasm raced through her.

“Like that, baby girl?” she whispered when she had recovered her breath.

“Yes, so much.”

“Good I like being your Miss Pixie, and I like that you know how to be my baby girl. But do you know what I would like even more?”

I snuggled into her, and took my time replying. Teasing her as I really did know what she liked more, “You want your Miss Faith to fuck her baby girl.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe, my love.”

“Well we have plenty of time.”

“We do indeed.”

And as we lay together, contemplating the significance of the last things we had said, I couldn’t resist lowering my head and sucking the strappy, which tasted of my pussy juices. Swirling it in my mouth I looked up at Pixie and the observed, “Two things. One a real cock probably is better. But as this is my girl’s cock, then than makes all the difference and so this is perfect.”

“Your girl?” Pixie asked with a gorgeous smile.

“If that is not too presumptuous?”

“No babe, it sounds totally perfect.”

From that day on we were inseparable, often out with friends but every night snuggled in Pixie’s bed. And there I learnt more about myself and the joy of exploring uncharted territory with my lover. In particular coming to appreciate the word switch, as I oscillated between baby girl and Miss Faith. But over time I noticed I more and more became Miss Faith.

Everyone had told me that the New Year Eve’s fireworks on Sydney Harbor were on the must do list. So, even though we had only been dating for a few weeks, it was just assumed that Pixie and I would go together. And with food and drink in hand, we joined the throngs which grew to over a million people crowded around Sydney Harbour.

Pixie even carried a rug which, when I asked why, resulted in one of her inscrutable smiles and no further information. I knew better than to ask, my girlfriend was in one of her Miss Pixie moods. We found a spot at Blue’s Point and whiled away six hours in the afternoon and early evening heat, talking like chatterboxes though we did watch the boats floating around the harbour.

Then the nine o’clock show started. And I was gobsmacked by the scale of the fireworks and even more so when Pixie said that the midnight fireworks were even more spectacular. Three different parts of the Harbour burst into extraordinary explosions of light and colour.

After the early fireworks had ended, Pixie pulled her rug around us and we snuggled together, even though it was warm enough to do without the rug. And I knew why she had brought the rug as soon as her fingers grazed my breasts, causing my nipples to harden.

And the question of how you fill in three hours in the dark between the two firework shows was answered for me. Pixie having wrapped us in her rug, took the opportunity to slowly explore my body, while all the time whispering sweet nothings.

I protested of course, but she ignored me, giggling as she whispered, “You are my baby girl, and you just have to do as you are told.”

And I did, surrendering to her touch. A few minutes before midnight I looked up into the sky, as Pixie’s fingers pushed in and out of my pussy. And in the cloudless night sky, I had a momentary glimpse of a bright star.

“Look at that star,” I whispered to Pixie as her thumb grazed my clit.

“It is Alpha Centauri, baby. And next to it Beta Centauri.”

“Oh God,” I whimpered, “Should you really be finger fucking me in public.”

“You love it, and yes I should. Those two stars are the pointers, baby.”

“Pointers?” I asked as the sky burst into light with the first boom of the midnight fireworks.

“Yes baby, pointing to the Southern Cross, Australia’s constellation of stars.”

And the midnight fireworks rumbled the explosive prelude to the start of the New Year. The sky was continually filled with explosions of light, colour and sparkles.

But as the final salvo of fireworks began, I realized my truth.

And focused on what I knew, even though my orgasm was racing at me as Pixie kept strumming my clit with her thumb. If there is heaven my mother is there and I let myself imagine that she had helped me glimpse that there was a map written for me in the stars.

The pointers were the key, drawing my eyes to the Southern Cross dominating what I should see in the southern sky. I was in the arms of my lesbian lover, feeling my pussy about to explode, and watching the Harbour Bridge erupt with explosions overhead and a stream of candle fireworks that fell from the base of the bridge like a golden waterfall to actually touch the water.

And I knew, knew that while the vibrant light and colour of the New Year’s Eve fireworks burned bright, in the sky the stars actually burned brighter. And the course they charted for me was clear, I had journeyed from home and found home.

The last of the winter’s ice that covered my heart followed my mother’s death had melted in the Australian sun. I was in love and as the last massive fireworks exploded over the Harbour Bridge, I shuddered as the orgasm ripped through me flooding Pixie’s hand with an intensity than matched the light and colours in the sky.

One steamy night in January after a couple of beers, Elijah and I went outside and had a conversation that had been brewing for a while.

“So, brother why?” I knew I didn’t have to tell him what was on my mind. He had already convinced me he knew me as well as I knew myself.

“I realized that I was in a cul-de-sac and needed a way to navigate out. I felt trapped in a dead end, one that worked for our parents and our grandparents who had built the farms into a rewarding life. But I just knew the farm wasn’t enough anymore. Which for me became clearer when I met Shelia, and even more so when I came here.”

“To live in Australia, you mean?”

“Not necessarily literally Australia, more the idea that I had to find my direction and place.”

“There is a lot of mum in you isn’t there?”

“You are a fine one to talk sister. There is a lot of mum in both of us, Faith. But I quickly realized, however, that our brother is a dick head. I love them but for fucks sake the way he sees the world is so limited. But you are a dreamer, you lose yourself in books and so with you I just had to take the chance. Your love of life froze when mum got sick and I thought if I got you here, perhaps Australia would open your eyes to a direction for your life.”

“It has. Did you know?”

“That you are gay?” I nodded.

“No, I hadn’t thought much about what was best for you, rather for me it was about a different environment helping you find out what was best for you.”

I held out my hand and took his, “You are wonderful you know. I never realised it was possible to actually love a brother.”

He laughed and gently squeezed my hand, “This is the eye of the hurricane, normal frantic teasing will resume shortly.”

“Fucking long hurricane, twenty years to get into its eye. But now we both are actually in the eye of the hurricane, we both know family and love.”

“Don’t you dare let the world know how mushy I have become.”

I heard giggles from behind and realized that Shelia and Pixie had crept out onto the patio.

“You two are so alike,” Shelia said, “Fortunately both Pixie and I can see through your bullshit and recognize the romantic that you both try to keep carefully hidden.”

“Fuck you,” my brother and I said in unison, before laughing at the fact that our words were identical.

In the silence, well the relative silence given the noise of the cicadas, that followed I broached the subject that was in the forefront of my mind. “Elijah I should Skype dad and introduce Pixie. But I am scared.”

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Shelia’s arm go around Pixie.

The fucking cicadas became a cacophony as Elijah took his time responding.

Finally, he asked, “Faith have you ever wondered why dad was so agreeable to you coming to Australia?”

“I am sure it wasn’t because he thought I needed a lesbian surfer in my life.”

I heard sniggers from behind, but my brother just looked at me inscrutably. “I doubt dad has ever thought about surfing let alone lesbian surfers. No, the right answer is in that photograph of Prague.”

“But that was Prague years ago, and this is Australia. That was winter, this is summer. Mum had a map and I was kind of rudderless. And mom died a year before the idea of Australia even arose.”

“Yeah it is true that mom like dad had probably never actually thought of Australia let alone someone like Pixie. But you are missing the point. You do know the meaning of that photo of mum in Prague?”

“Yes, you know I have a copy here with me. She looks so happy knowing where she is about to go.”

“Faith, that is exactly the point. Mum told dad before she died that you had sacrificed too much looking after her and he was to make sure you, as dad puts it, found your own map.”

I sniffed, tears forming in my eyes. Pixie’s arms went around me.

And Elijah continued, “Dad thought you were drifting not swimming and didn’t know how to give you a sense of direction. That is where I came in and suggested Australia might trigger you as it had me and he was thrilled.”

“That I came maybe, but maybe not who I have become.”

“I don’t think so, Faith. He believes that mom didn’t actually know what finding your direction really meant, so he will accept who you are if you are happy and focused. And you are.”

“I hope so. But you are sitting next to me when I Skype dad.”

“Sure, smiling paternally at the new Franken-sister I have created.”

I smacked him for that.

And later that week we skyped and Elijah was right. Dad saw the bigger picture, spoke warmly to Pixie, and liked that his daughter had a sense of direction. My other brother was a little less enthusiastic but I had the pleasure of hearing Elijah’s response when my other brother asked me whether mom would approve of an Asian lezzie.

“Listen you piece of shit. Mom wants us all to be happy. I am and now Faith is. Mom is thrilled with us, it is you being a Neanderthal that she worries about.”

I looked at dad as he stood behind my other brother, and saw him smile at Elijah’s use of the word Neanderthal. I was so happy that dad subsequently got the shortest email ever, ‘Thanks, I love you.’

And the response was almost as short but packed an emotional punch, ‘Love you, your mother and I are so proud of you.’

Stability, focus and especially love, they were the gas, no I should say petrol, that fuelled me the next year. I enrolled at nursing school at Sydney University and was determined to be the best student and the best girlfriend ever.

And I think I succeeded. Dad is coming over in the summer for three months and my future sister in law is working out social events which you should read as dates for dad. Elijah and I let her get on with it, not quite accepting that there is a thing called dad’s social life.

I am totally and absolutely in love with Pixie who is perfect in all her kinky loving ways. We totally click both in and out of the bedroom. And whenever I am in bed with her, I see them, the two photographs.

The first is that photograph taken many years ago, and the copy stands, as it always will, beside my bed. A young woman, my mother, blond and beautiful with her hair in pigtails. And the dappled winter light plays on her smiling face as she studies the map of a European snow bound city. Her map is the detail of her plans for my parent’s adventure in Prague.

And next to it there is a now a second photograph taken much more recently. A young woman, similar looking, but with her blond hair hanging freely. Pixie snapped it and the shimmering summer light plays on my smiling face as I study a hiking map of this southern sun-kissed city. My map is my plan for our day’s adventure.

I know the look that plays on both their faces, the confident organiser look. And I now realize they are happy for exactly the same reason. And that, as it turns out, is more about the photographer than the photograph; the smile in both photographs reflects that fact the picture was taken by the one they love.

For I am my mother’s daughter and her honeymoon photograph has echoed down the years, pointing me towards being my own lodestar and to live my life as it suits me, which in my case turns out to be being loved by Pixie, down-under.