I Kissed a Girl, Chapter 10

by Jackie

Maryann woke up with a hangover. It wasn't from alcohol. Unlike the girls she had not summoned the strength to clean up before she passed out. Along with her mental anguish she felt unclean.

She'd over done it and felt remorse and contrition welling up. Sliding over the side of the bed onto her knees she lowered her face on her hands and prayed. She prayed for understanding and she prayed for forgiveness. She truly believed that the Vatican II document gave permission for self-stimulation; but it was intended for the relief of the carnal urges that would threaten the vows of chastity, not as some kind of hobby.

'I didn't make a vow of chastity, ' she reminded herself.

She could have; in some ways she wanted to. When she was ready to graduate from Holy Grace, Mother Superior had promoted the opportunity to stay; to intern as a novice. Her experience with Teresa and the urges that she fought over the three years afterward told her that she was not physiologically suited to the role. She chose a good catholic college and enrolled in a general course of study, always believing that she had missed her first calling, she searched for something else to be passionate about and never found it.

The church remained her anchor, and just as Christ intended her rock. It ate at her that she was unworthy to serve. She cursed the genes she'd been born with and prayed for understanding of why God had given her such a devout mind attached to a depraved body.

Near the end of her second year she'd met Donald Spencer at the church fund raiser. He was five years older and established in a local accounting firm. To her young inexperienced eye he looked like a rock. In some ways he was.

Out of his own need to serve he was volunteering his accounting skills and degree to the church's project. She became involved and they worked somewhat closely together for several months, often having coffee together when their chores were done. It might have been called dating in some circles. Romance was the logical outcome, and as day follows night, marriage.

Don was a good Catholic boy, and as it turned out even more inexperienced in the bedroom than her. Her experience was limited to the brief series of tutorials administered by one conniving novice. She wished she could tell him what she wanted, what she needed, but their relationship—him being the older and wiser, always taking the lead and making all the decisions had gelled early. By the time they were married it had solidified to stone.

Maryann didn't know it but it was a tribute to her sexual proclivity that she was able to derive as much satisfaction as she did from Don Spencer's inept lovemaking. As a young wife and soon there after mother she'd buried the knowledge of the pleasure her body was capable of; put it aside with all of the other hedonistic sinful activities of this world in which she also chose not to engage.

While Don was alive it was do-able—if just barely. When he died the torment started within a month and had reached the intolerable stage before Doctor Perez had provided divine relief. Not just relief but the possibility of a sustainable torment free life. That was all well and good but what about the other; the desire—'Oh God'—the need for sexual liaison with another person.

As she prayed the aroma of her night of excess rose from the sheets that were inches from her nose. She rose from her knees and stripped the bed completely tossing the sheets and pillow cases beside the laundry hamper she went into her bath suite and started filling the tub.

Next door Elizabeth Conrad was also running a bath. She had carefully disengaged herself from her sleeping daughter and was glowing from the progression of her relationship with Michelle. While she soaked in the tub she let her mind drift back to that summer at the cottage deep in the woods.

She lay there dreamily letting the memories heat her from the inside the way the water warmed her on the out. When tiny little Michelle slipped in to the frothy water Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter.

"How are you this morning honey?"

"A little bit sore," the girl answered putting her hand between her legs.

"It'll heal fast ... I have a douche you can use that'll speed things up too. How did your thing at the church go last night?""

Michelle gave the mother a fairly complete briefing on the Catholic Girls' Youth Group meeting. Beth listened actively, smiling and nodding as the teenager described the doctor's approach.

"I won't lie to you sweetheart, I was really tempted to tell you that you couldn't go. I was afraid that they'd fill your head with all kinds of fear and guilt about your sexuality that I would have to try to undo. I'm so glad I was wrong."

Briefing her mother on the experience in the church basement started the crampy feelings in her cookie which unfortunately was still sore. She had the urge to rub it but the stinging discouraged her.

"I'm getting hungry," her mother announced rising out of the bath bubbles.

The sight of her mom's nakedness caused the girl to put the pain aside long enough to give her coochie a couple of quick strokes, but the stinging spoiled it.

With a towel wrapped around her, her mother put a tube of ointment on the tub deck.

"Put some of this on when you get out sweetie; just right around the entrance to your vagina. Tonight before you go to bed I'll clean it up and have a look." The older woman went into the bedroom.

Back in her room she applied the ointment. The feel of her velvet smooth lips under her finger felt so tempting. Standing but in a sort of frog legged squat; legs apart, knees flexed as though she was riding an invisible horse, she made several more circuits of her vaginal opening than were necessary to apply the medication. The phone rang jolting her back from the erotic sensation. She picked up the cordless phone that she had left on her nightstand.

It was Becky. Evidently one of the cheerleaders who lived right in the neighborhood was trying to arrange a pre school-start practice. Rebecca wanted to know if Michelle was interested in coming to watch. The younger girl was thrilled to be asked to the gathering of the high school's elite.

"I'd love to go," she chirped with exuberance, "but I'd better check with my mom. I don't think there's anything planned but ... can I give you a call back when I get down stairs."

"Sure," Becky agreed. "I won't be going over until after lunch ... as long as you let me know this morning."

Lying on her bed in just her panties Rebecca hung up the phone. The e-mail that she'd opened half an hour ago had actually been sent last night. Probably while her and Michelle had their faces between each other's legs.

'I wonder what the rest of the team would think if they knew ... they've all got boyfriends ... maybe they'd be shocked."

She remembered that she had a boy friend too—well sort of. Things were a lot different now than they'd been last spring, before—; 'I kissed a girl and I liked it ... taste of her cherry ChapStick... ' the song lyric invading her thoughts was becoming routine.

Things were different than they'd been at the end of the last school year but it wasn't really because of a kiss. The first one, the one with Melanie, had happened way before that. She'd just never figured out a way to do an encore until Michelle arrived. Encore didn't begin to describe the direction things had gone with her new neighbor.

Becky lay on her tummy, back arched, supporting her upper body on her elbows. She was trying to remember how it had been before. It wasn't that long ago, hardly a week, yet it seemed like eons. Thinking back to her first and only drunken party, to Gloria's cousin...

'I got so brave drink in hand ... lost my discretion—' that wasn't her line from the song it was Melanie's.

Gloria had said Melanie might come over to watch them practice. It came as a surprise that the possibility of seeing the girl who'd given her her first kiss made her pussy twitch.

'I wonder if she does more or if she was just drunk and experimenting ... maybe I'll find out today.'

Becky realized that she'd been grinding against the sheets and now her cookie was really feeling hot. The door to her room opening startled her. She turned her head to look without altering her position. Her mother entered and immediately put the laundry basket she was carrying down.

The sight of her daughter's round pubescent bum so tightly covered in the white cotton panties hit her right in the crotch and she suddenly lost all strength in her arms and legs.

After initially looking in the direction of the door Becky returned to the front facing position which was toward the headboard of her bed.

"I'm gonna go over to Gloria's after lunch," she told her mother without looking back.

Maryann was grateful that Becky was looking the other way. She was on her knees beside the clothes hamper but it wasn't to facilitate the sorting operation. She knew she needed to respond to her daughter's statement but an "Uh-huh" acknowledgement that she'd heard was all she could muster.

Rebecca was sort of idly kicking her feet and the kneeling woman thought of the other night, while watching the movie, how the two girls doing the same sort of thing had affected her. This was worse; at least that time they'd had shorts on. Now she could clearly make out the shadow of the crevice between the firm round hemispheres. When her waggling lower leg didn't block the view she could see the crotch of the panties stretched over the hairless teenaged vulva.

Recollecting its shaved smoothness from the Girls' Group meeting last evening started the infernal throbbing that had plagued her for months. The urgent neediness that she thought she'd over satiated last night was back. She began to fear that having denied herself her whole life that she might have a lot of catching up to do.

Elizabeth put the things from her daughter's hamper that she'd include with the sheets into her laundry basket and rose to her feet. It was as if her mind divided. She was watching herself walk across the room and sit near the foot of Michelle's bed.

The girl who'd been up on her elbows folded her arms across her pillow and lowered her head onto them.

"What did you think of the meeting last night?" the teenager asked.

The memory of walking in the door of the church basement meeting room and seeing half a dozen or so teenagers with their fingers on their naked pussies flooded back and Maryann was speechless. As if the question had been rhetorical, or as a continuation the girl asked,

"Are you going to come to the next one ... I mean stay for the meeting?"

Thinking about the topic the doctor had announced for the next meeting made the older woman's pussy twitch. It came as quite a jolt because the hum that had started when she caught sight of her daughter's derriere was increasing in intensity now that she was sitting well within arms-length of it.

Her arm seemed to have a mind of its own. Her left hand came to rest on one of her cotton covered hills. Maryann was startled by how warm and firm her daughter's ass felt under her fingers as her hand began a slow circular motion.

"Oh I don't think that would be appropriate honey. The group is for teenagers not mothers and daughters."

Becky thought her mother's voice sounded strained and she was suddenly having difficulty concentration on their conversation.

Before her mom had come in she'd gotten herself a little heated up and now the feel of the caressing hand on her tushy turned her thermostat to boil and her girlhood responded. Michelle knew that her hips were moving just slightly in rhythm with her mom's hand. It was a subtle but definite up and down motion with a tiny rotary component to it.

'She likes this' Maryann thought as her sentient hand continued its gentle movements over the panty clad ass.

Her mind would not—could not—recognize what she was doing. Her physical sensory mind and her reasoning thinking brain were separate. Her Catholic schooled devout brain demanded that she stop this sinful activity but the sensory brain was in charge; at least for the moment.

'What would happen if I slipped my hand inside ... under her panties ... and touched her ... her—' That thought was interrupted by the telephone warble.

The sound made them both jump. Maryann jumped right off the bed and over to the door as if the person calling would be able to see what was happening in her daughter's bedroom.

Becky was jolted out of her ever growing state of arousal and grabbed the phone from her night table.

"Yeah ... uh, yeah that's great" she stammered into the phone, fighting her spinning head to acknowledge Michelle's acceptance of her invitation.

The real world intrusion was like a shot of speed for the mother's religious mind. She grabbed the clothes basket and hustled toward the laundry room feeling the tell-tale squishiness between her legs.

She loaded the machine but still felt disconnected. Her physical yearning and her Catholicism were still at odds.

'What had Doctor Perez said last night ... chastity is easier when there's brotherly love in the community' Maryann was having some difficulty defining chastity now.

That concept seemed near the heart of the conflict. She was going to need help to resolve it.

As Maryann went about her chores she decided to call the woman who had become her spiritual adviser; the woman whom she had come to trust with her soul. The bond she'd formed in such a short time with the Hispanic physician did not come as a shock. She had in truth been searching for many years; sometimes it seemed like all her life for a counselor, someone to help resolve these conflicts that divided her in two.

Perhaps it was desperation and perhaps it was divine providence that brought her to Angelina Perez at this critical juncture in her life, who could say. The key was that she implicitly trusted the doctor's expertise in her religion and understanding of her body. It was the essential combination of knowledge required to get her through the impasse.

She sat on the bed and picked up the phone from her night table. Maryann was prepared to be put on hold; prepared to be told the doctor was with a patient and would call her back, so when the pretty red haired receptionist put her right through it came as a pleasant surprise.

"Good morning missus Spencer. How can I help you?" Angelina Perez sounded as chipper and confident as usual.

"I wanted to ask about the—" the name of the document had escaped her, "um, the Vatican two document that you've been referring to."

"The Perfectae Caritatis," Doctor Perez supplied. "What was your question?"

"I can't see how having ... uh I mean engaging in sexual activity with a partner can preserve chastity."

"I think the problem stems from an incorrect definition of chastity," Angie explained. "Chastity is defined as abstinence from unlawful sexual intercourse." She waited for the words to sink in.

Maryann was reminded of Bill Clinton's TV interview about the Monica Lewinsky affair when he had suggested that there were multiple meanings of the verb 'is'.

"Many people think that chastity refers to any sexual activity but that's not accurate, and it's not the way the Church uses the word." Again the doctor paused giving her patient time to digest the information.

"By engaging in self-stimulation, and as the Perfectae Caritatis puts it brotherly love, the temptation to engage in unlawful intercourse is diminished. You're not planning on having sexual intercourse outside the bonds of holy matrimony which is the definition of unchaste." Angelina smiled at the silence coming through the phone line.

"I'm not going to tell you that this is the only interpretation of those words, but it is the one that many people in the church ascribe to."

"Thank you doctor, you've been a great help." Maryann said pensively, speaking for the first time since she'd posed the question.

"Remember your sexuality is a gift from God; it's not intended to be a punishment. God wants you to enjoy His gifts ... not be tormented by them."

"Thanks again" the pensive woman on the bed said.

"Via con dios" Angie replied and hung up.

Maryann went about collecting the next load of laundry. Her question had been answered. Her mind continued to turn the problem over as she worked. If she accepted Doctor Perez's interpretation of the church's stance her problem was resolved. She was divided, her mind in conflict with her body like there was a curtain between the two, but if she looked hard enough she could see light shining through.

Doing the housework on autopilot had the unexpected benefit of making time fly. Before she knew it, it was time to make lunch.

Rebecca came and helped wearing a wrap around checked skirt over her leotard. Maryann thought the aerobics shoes looked odd with a skirt but that was her antiquated and ultra conservative fashion sense talking. Her daughter had her hair pulled into pig-tails which the older woman always thought made her look much younger.

Not much was said as the Spencer women stayed in their own worlds. The older woman's mind did some free association and segued from her daughter's skirt and running shoes faux pas to her own wardrobe.

'I owe Elizabeth an apology for yesterday' she concluded. 'She made us a nice dinner. She tried to give me help with my clothing choices, and I repay her with suspicion and mistrust. I'll go over there after lunch and apologize.'

They were clearing up the last of the lunch dishes when Michelle rapped on the door. Rebecca gave her mother a pleading look.

"Oh go ahead ... have fun with your friends," her mom conceded feigning annoyance.

Becky put down the tea towel, kissed her mother on the cheek and scampered out the door without a word.

Maryann touched her cheek where her daughter's lips had just been. She couldn't figure out why that kiss had been different than the hundreds that had come before it.

The underwear was the same—it was all the same—but she changed the dress she'd been working in for a newer sack style frock. Checking in the mirror was not so much to approve her appearance, which was the same—it was always the same—it was just to be sure that the dress wasn't rumpled and that the skirt was hanging properly below her knees and even as it should be.

When she knocked on the side door of the Conrad's house there wasn't an immediate answer.

'I should have called' Maryann thought but she had wanted to deliver her apology in person. She was about to turn away when Elizabeth appeared at the door.

Her neighbor was wearing short shorts and a T shirt and looking a little sweaty. The twin projections from the front of her 'I love NY' shirt with the word love replaced by a heart attested to the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. The shorts displayed every possible inch of her gorgeous legs and made them look even longer than their actual impressive length.

Maryann had never worn anything like that and couldn't imagine answering the door dressed as Beth was. The sight shocked her and some sort of very unexpected tremor occurred between her legs.

"Maryann! What an unexpected surprise. Come on in." the provocatively clad woman invited enthusiastically. "I must look a sight" she added running her hand through her chin length blondish brown hair.

"I won't stay long," the visitor promised, accepting the invitation and following her host into the kitchen. "I just came over to say how sorry I am about yesterday."

Elizabeth had replayed the scene from her bedroom a number of times wondering; where she'd gone wrong, if she'd done irreparable damage to the relationship and if she'd ever get another chance.

"Oh nonsense ... you don't have anything to be sorry for ... it's me ... I should apologize for being so presumptuous; but I was sincerely trying to help."

Maryann found her eyes continually being drawn back to her neighbor's chest and the pert nipples poking out the 'I' and the heart shape.

"I know ... I know you meant well," the woman in the shapeless dress acknowledged, "and you're not wrong. I do dress very ... uh, frumpy." She found a word that she thought summed it up. "It just that I've never been comfortable with people staring at me."

"The reason people stare is that you have an incredible figure. Some people will notice in spite of your efforts to hide it," Elizabeth put her hand on her neighbor's upper arm intending it as a soothing gesture but Maryann jumped as though she'd been touched with a branding iron.

"I still think those things I showed you yesterday would look absolutely gorgeous on you, but I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with." The woman in the very short shorts and T shirt said and this time when she put her hand on the Maryann's arm the widow from next door didn't move.

'That's all I came for—mission accomplished—now go home, ' she told herself but she didn't move. Elizabeth's hand on her arm felt nice—soft and hot. In fact so hot that the slight contact was creating heat that was spreading all over.

"I'd like to try them," Maryann said so quietly that she barely heard herself.

"Pardon?" the lady in shorts asked. She thought she'd heard but it was so unexpected that she needed confirmation.

Maryann could scarcely believe she'd said it out loud. She'd been thinking it ever since she'd runaway the day before. Fear and avoidance of sin had propelled her then; just now she'd had a slip but she could take it back, pretend she hadn't said it, no harm would be done. She looked her host in the face and found the woman's deep brown eyes searching. Those probing eyes reached into her secure area and pulled her out—pulled part of her out.

"You won't be disappointed," Beth said and applied a little persuasion to Maryann's arm. Just enough force to start her moving toward the stairs. She still wasn't sure she'd heard the busty blonde correctly but if she was wrong her gambit wouldn't get far. It looked like trying to get her to repeat herself was only causing second thoughts Elizabeth correctly deduced.

Guiding Maryann toward her bedroom she sensed reluctance but no resistance. Inside Elizabeth somewhat unnecessarily closed the door. They were after all alone in the house.

Maryann had that divided feeling. The surreal out of body experience where she was sort of watching herself from a distance. Inside her neighbor's bedroom the illusion was enhanced by seeing herself in the floor to ceiling mirror, just like the one in her bedroom. The furniture and the drapes of course were different but the room was the same, just the looking glass version—completely reversed. Her closet and mirror were on the left when you entered the room Elizabeth's were on the right.

She took in her reflection with detachment. Her dress looked like a burial shroud, no a cocoon like the ones hanging in the trees outside.

Elizabeth who had left her standing alone in the middle of the room came into the reflection and was standing behind her. Her neighbor's face was smiling broadly over her shoulder.

"Let me help you with this," Beth offered and began lowering the zipper down the trembling woman's back. She'd decided to take this part more quickly than last time.

'She had too much time to think ... to get nervous and embarrassed, '

Pulling the zipper down in a smooth quick motion Elizabeth was in front of her dress-up doll in less than ten seconds. Maryann's body position was the same as yesterday's—hands wringing in front of her. When Beth pulled the dress down off her guest's shoulders she held her breath. This is where it had all gone wrong. The hands and arms had to separate for the dress to come off.

The half dressed woman didn't resist. It was as though she was made of plasticine. Elizabeth was able to position her victim's arms straight down near her sides which made the further removal of the hideous dress simple. When there was nothing left holding it up, or on, she just let go and the beige polyester print fell in a pool on the bedroom's hardwood floor.

When Maryann felt the dress around her ankles a surge went through her. She might have expected embarrassment or shame but that's not what she felt. She didn't know what to call the feelings; they were unfamiliar—uncharted waters. The physical sensations, on the other hand, were all too familiar.

Missus Conrad took a half a step back to survey her work. As she'd theorized the white cotton briefs came up to well above her guest's navel. The featureless bra was so concealing that it could have been worn as a top and not drawn a second glance walking down the street; except of course for the incredibly full looking melons it contained. Elizabeth was gaining confidence.

'If she was going to freak-out on me surly she'd have done it by now.'

Around behind the underwear clad woman she wasted no time unfastening the four tiny hooks down the back strap. She heard her guest sigh as the pressure was released. Nothing unusual there; it was probably one of the most delightful parts of any woman's day—particularly well endowed ones. Back in front of her guest she grasped the shoulder straps and hesitated at the moment of truth.

She'd been dying to lay eyes on her neighbor's tits but throughout this whole undressing scenario she'd been so focused on all of the ways that it could go wrong, that she'd almost completely lost sight of what it was all about. Now she looked deeply into Maryann's eyes in case there was going to be an eleventh hour balk. What she saw there surprised her. The sparkling blue eyes weren't pleading anymore; they were ... sparkling.

Their pelvic sensations were remarkably similar as the matronly bra descended. Heat and intense twitching at their respective roots made them both apply their teeth to their lower lip to prevent the feelings from being vocalized.

The somewhat baggy cups resisted removal because the weight of their D cup cargo had sagged and held the cotton blend material trapped against the now nearly naked woman's ribs. Elizabeth adjusted the direction of the force she was applying from outward to more downward. That did it. They were free. Both women gasped but, obviously, for different reasons.

Although the thought didn't fully form at that moment, in some vestige of modesty, Maryann realized that her host was the only other person alive to have ever seen her matured chest. The strange unidentified emotion was getting stronger, as were the physiological responses to being stripped by this relative stranger. The tingle in her breasts went up several notches now that they were bare, and her areola felt like a tightly balled up piece of paper.

They were everything she'd hoped and more. In spite of their post-nursing roundness and heaviness Elizabeth could still see remnants of their original spectacular conical shape that Becky's were developing. The huge areola and sewing thimble sized nipple made her tongue tingle. The hostess wondered if there was anyway she could get away with sucking on them. The urge was so strong that she made a guttural sound in her effort to control herself.

Buying her neighbor, one she'd known for less than a week, a sexy new outfit was presumptuous; stripping her naked to try it on was extreme; physical assault might be just that much too far—yet. But what next? The matronly panties were still in place.

'Does the bra go on before the underpants come off, thereby avoiding total nudity—all the assets on view at once?' With her limbic system in overdrive it was hard to think.

When Maryann took the conundrum off her mind Beth's legs went weak. Her guest pushed her briefs down and stepped out of her beige wedge heeled pumps and the bloomers simultaneously. The stooping effort provided a thrilling view of her full breasts swaying pendulously. She stood back up as naked as the day she was born; save her jewelry.

Elizabeth's eyes automatically tracked to the most recently revealed treasure. The triangle of very dark blonde, virtually brown curls at the apex of her thighs was disappointingly demure. The woman in the short shorts and T shirt was really feeling like she needed to sit down.

Maryann picked up the lacy looking panties and examined them. Not only had she never worn anything like them, she was hard pressed to remember ever having had their like in her hands. The rush she felt as she stepped onto them nearly made her loose her balance. The way the smooth silky fabric gripped her ass came as an unexpected delight. She'd never felt anything like that from her own knickers.

The see through nature of the embroidered mesh seemed to highlight the triangle of pubic hair. Elizabeth wondered if they'd ever reach a comfort level where her neighbor would let her modify that. The now not quite naked woman continued by wrapping the bra around her waist—cups in the back. Once the hooks were fastened she spun it around, slid it up immediately under her bust, pulled the cups out and open, then leaned forward to drop her heavy hooters into the transparent stretchy mesh. Slipping her arms through the shoulder straps she pulled them up, straightened them with her thumbs and looked down at the stunningly sexy sight.

The strategically placed embroidered flowers were not big enough to cover her entire four inch areola and the light stretchy fabric was incapable of restraining her surging nipples. The stiff pegs pushed the image of a rose out giving it an unintended depth.

"Oh ... oh my god Maryann you're ... you're gorgeous!" the sincere breathless compliment brought a smile to the face of the scantily clad woman whose eyes were on the mirror.

The cocoon had opened and beautiful black butterfly had emerged.

Her head was spinning and she suddenly identified the mystery emotion—pride. She was proud of her body and having this other woman appreciate it thrilled her. She couldn't, she wouldn't deny it anymore.

'One of the seven deadly sins' she reminded herself. 'So be it! I'll confess tomorrow ... right now I just want to enjoy'

She ran her hands over her tingling breasts, over the revealing silky material, on down over her ribs, over her respectably flat tummy to the bikini cut panties. Something about watching the reflection of her own hands caress her curvaceous contours made the whole thing just that much more erotic. She no longer had the feeling of looking at herself from outside her body. She was in the beautiful body and just vaguely aware that some part of her was watching, detached and disapproving.

It was too much for Elizabeth. She plopped down on the bed feeling like she was going to hyperventilate herself into unconsciousness.

Maryann picked up the dress and dropped it over her head. Gripping the elasticized synching she pulled it over her bust and straightened the dress looking in the mirror. She didn't even know what gave her the idea, never having done anything like it before, but she reached into the bodice of the dress, one side at a time, and plumped up her breasts. Straightening the dress the sinful, prideful rush over took her again. The insistent tingle in her tits sending its maddening signals to her throbbing womanhood played like a background symphony.

'Size six was right' Elizabeth congratulated her decision to ignore the apparent sizing she'd covertly learned from snooping in her neighbor's closet. The skirt fell a little below mid thigh displaying shapely well tanned legs; just enough cleavage to be sexy without being slutty.

"Holy fuck!" Beth exclaimed not even realizing that she'd dropped the 'F' bomb in the presence of her religious neighbor.

Maryann smiled at her benefactor sitting on the bed who was looking flushed and breathless. She turned sideways to see how he butt looked draped in the shiny black material. Bigger than she'd like maybe and she couldn't help thinking about the unexpected pleasure it provided during her self exploration the night before. The recollection made it start tingling so she ran both hands over it under the guise of smoothing the skirt. It came as something of a surprise that this made her nipples feel as though they'd been pinched, which in turn sent a wonderful jolt directly to her crotch.

For the woman sitting on the bed the impact of the spectacular vision began to fade, despite the eroticism of the dress smoothing. Beth got the grip on her arousal essential to accomplishing the greater goal. She got her into the dress, now she needed to get her back out of it. Rising from the bed to stand in front of her neighbor again she said.

"How do the under things fit? I didn't really get a good look before you put the dress on." A shadow passed over Maryann's broad smile as they looked into each other's eyes.

Elizabeth saw some of the nervousness and doubt return. Her dress-up doll didn't answer the question immediately. The look was back, the one Beth interpreted as pleading but she still couldn't figure out for what.

The woman in shorts and T shirt gripped the dress under her neighbor's arms and said,

"May I?" the intension was clear but blonde in the sexy black cocktail dress still didn't speak.

Pulling outward on the elasticized synching under the bust and working it over Maryann's prominent boobs was the hardest part. As soon as the high waist cleared that obstruction the dress could easily be slipped over the head, provided of course that the dress wearer cooperated.

For a moment she was stuck Elizabeth saw the pleading look turn to fear and felt her stomach tighten. To her, the situation was not very different than it had been the day before.

For the woman who was about to be stripped it was very different. Her conversation with Doctor Perez had given her permission, a way to surrender to her lusty desires without feeling that she'd abandoned her Catholic values. Her hesitation now had a less compelling reason to it. She simply feared the unknown. She'd never had sex with anyone but Don—how would she know what to do? Don always took the lead, but he was a man, Elizabeth was a woman, just like her—they were equals.

'For Christ's sake Maryann ... she wants to see how the lingerie she bought you fits. What makes you think it'll go any further than that, you're jumping to conclusions.'

The thought was sobering partly because she wanted it to go further and she was afraid that it would. In any case the decision was made. She raised her arms over her head and the dress slid smoothly up and off. As soon as she was in full possession of it Beth tossed the shimmery black garment onto the bed without looking. Maryann watched the light material float like a butterfly and land softly a top her host's comforter then she looked down at what had been revealed.

She couldn't see much beyond her own jutting boobs, but she did notice the beige dress that had been kicked to the side still lying on the floor. Her meticulous personality wanted to pick it up; to lay it out straight or hang it up. Somehow she didn't care about the cocoon from which she'd emerged, it seemed unimportant. What had materialized out of that wretched sack was not a black butterfly but a moth; a moth inexorably attracted to the candle's flame with all of its glorious heat and thrilling danger.

Elizabeth took in the whole package and felt the tightening in her pelvis. A moment later her hands were on the shoulder straps of the stretchy black bra tugging lightly,

"How does it feel ... does it fit right?" she asked as she played with the straps, "I had to guess at size ya know." It was a tiny lie.

"It feels wonderful," Maryann gushed without reservation.

"It sure looks great," the would be fashion consultant said sliding her hands slowly down from the straps and onto the upper outer part of the cups.

The feel of the other woman's hands on the periphery of her breasts caused her large areola, which had relaxed somewhat during the dressing and undressing, to tighten again and her nipple caused the rose embroidered strategically on the front of the cup to stand out in relief.

Both women watched in fascination as the transformation took place. Beth continued to move her hands over the silk soft fabric encasing the melons that she'd been fantasizing about for a week. Her caress traveled down and around the outside of the orbs. Maryann felt it like a violin bow being drawn across a string. Sensations were welling up and she was sure that when she moved she would render her sexy new panties unreturnable.

"Your nipples are huge," the stroking woman sighed.

"I ... I know it's from breast feeding," the black moth replied and it came out like a groan.

"I bet they're really sensitive too," Beth speculated and just to prove her hypothesis, ran her thumbs over the sewing thimble sized projections.

The torrent of pleasure that flowed from her tits to her pussy caused a deep grunt. Maryann closed her eyes and let the feelings envelope her.

"Mine got bigger too, from nursing ... but not this big," the woman still in short shorts and T shirt confided. "Didn't it feel wonderful? The nursing I mean."

"Yeah," Maryann responded breathlessly. Both women were recalling the guilty mini climaxes that they'd experienced all those years ago. Maryann opened her eyes and looked at her neighbor's chest. The bumps atop her modest boobs were more prominent against the I love NY T shirt than ever.

Her hands had been at her sides, fingers clenching and releasing in an effort to deal with the intoxicating sensations her neighbor was coaxing from her breasts. On an impulse she brought her hands up and cupped the other woman through the thin T shirt, feeling the rock hardness of the twin points bore into her palms.

Elizabeth yelped at the unexpected erotic contact but hesitated not a second to strip the cotton T over her head. The black moth's hands were dislodged by the action. As the I love NY flew in the direction of the bed Beth grabbed her partner's wrists and directed them back to her needy boobs. Her hands now on the bare flesh of another woman's breasts for the first time in her life Maryann felt dizzy but her hands squeezed reflexively just the same.

Elizabeth reached around and skillfully released the hooks holding the sexy black bra in place. Maryann's hands were forced away again but this time as her new lingerie hit the floor she needed no encouragement or prompting to return to her task.

There might be disagreement about which was more erotic, missus Spencer's boobs in the stretchy black decorated mesh or naked. It was less likely for there to be a difference of opinion on which felt better. Elizabeth ran her hands all over the silky smooth globes while her neighbor continued to knead her breasts. It was impossible for her to tell which pulsing and cramping in her womanhood came from which stimulus.

The woman clad only in shorts and a thong now was amazed when she began to stroke the dark brownish and heavily textured areolas. Using the tips of all four fingers of each hand she was not able to cover the entire circle of erogenous flesh. She made circular motions with her finger tips marveling not only at the size but the firmness of the nipple that pushed against her caressing fingers like a rubber joy stick. That's pretty much how they felt to Maryann as well—joy sticks. The sensations streaming to her crotch were like the ones she produced with her own hands, but not, somehow they were much more intense, and that was saying a lot.

Elizabeth lowered her head and captured one of the turgid pegs in her mouth, sucking and rolling it with her tongue. A squeal of delight erupted from the panty clad woman's throat as an even larger wave of ecstasy swept over her. Her late husband had enjoyed playing with her tits during their five minutes of foreplay but he'd never produced thrills like the woman who was now giving her other boob a working over.

She lost access to the boobies she'd been squeezing when her host began sinking toward the floor. Elizabeth's wet tongue traced a line between her ribs and down over her tummy. The twitch in her pussy when the kneeling woman probed her belly button came as a surprise. Maryann had no time to contemplate the discovery of a new erogenous zone because Beth was now nuzzling right between her legs. The direct contact with her coochie made her moan and wobble, her hands entwined in the kneeling woman's hair were as much for balance and support as they were to encourage the thrilling pressure other woman's face was exerting through the black mesh panties.

Elizabeth rocked back on her heels and gripped the waistband Maryann's underpants. Their eyes met and Beth saw that pleading look again but this time there was no question in her mind what her neighbor was pleading for.

Getting the panties over the firm round backside took some force, but once the crotch began to separate from the dark blonde triangle the black bikinis slid down the naked woman's thighs with no effort at all. When they reached her ankles Maryann stepped out of them as if by reflex.

Elizabeth examined the fragrant vulva from point blank range. The curls along the edges of the meaty gash were wet and flattened, otherwise the pubic hair was thin and sparse as might be expected noting the absence of other body hair. Inhaling the perfume of her arousal made the kneeling woman's mouth water and she was dying to taste it. She ran her hands slowly and gently up and down her partner's thighs and looked up to gage the pious woman's reaction. Maryann's expression was cause for some concern.

She'd never engaged in oral sex and thought it was sinful. Her husband had hinted at it from time to time but only suggesting that she perform the act on him. She never did. The feeling of being outside herself was disconcerting in one way but comforting in another. It was as though she had relinquished control, surrendered to her carnal desires; she wasn't responsible. But even the part of her that was detached was starting to get turned on.

Initially, when she realized that her host was going to perform cunnilingus, she'd had an attack of conscience—misgivings.

'How else would two women pleasure each other, ' she asked herself.

It was obvious and expectable but she'd never thought about it in that kind of detail. Now as the separation between her pious self and her carnal self widened she longed for the contact of her lover's tongue.

When Elizabeth grasped her hips and guided her back onto the bed, Maryann was as compliant as a toy doll. Lying back on the bed she felt her thighs parted and her legs raised and she knew her womanhood was completely exposed to her neighbors gaze.

The fingers gently separating her folds were like an orchestra warming up. A cascade of sensation rolled over her but there was no real focus. The manipulation of her labia was very pleasure-full and she moaned in appreciation but she knew where she needed the stimulation and the need was becoming urgent.

Having arrived at her ultimate destination, Elizabeth settled onto her left hip and enjoyed the beautiful sight and smell of her hard won prize. She did a thorough visual inspection of the deep pink oozing tissues concealed behind the thick inner labia that she was now holding open before applying her tongue to the velvety slipperiness. Above her Maryann had stuffed a handful of the comforter in her mouth to mute her screams.

Resting on her hip with its middle aged padding was far more comfortable than being on her knees. She worked her way all around the prone woman's entrance carefully avoiding the pea sized glans that was poking out from under its hood. Elizabeth almost forgot that there was a whole woman attached to the delectable treat that she was enjoying.

For variety and to give her tongue a rest she backed off occasionally and put her fingers inside. She started with three but quickly decided that the woman who had given birth could handle all four. Pumping in and out the quantity of juice that Maryann produced was amazing. Continuing the in and out motion Beth lowered her head and slurped up the excess nectar.

Elizabeth rotated her thumb up so that it rubbed on the firm little nubbin at the top of the flowing gash. Even the bed comforter could not completely silence the resulting scream. When her neighbor's hips began to heave the seated woman accomplished the awkward maneuver of sucking on the pulsating clit while continuing the rhythmic thrusting of her fingers. The writhing and kicking left Beth with no doubt that her partner was in the throws.

When the thrashing subsided to twitches the seated woman wearing the short shorts and thong slowly extracted her fingers from her neighbor's dripping pussy and licked them off. She made her way up onto the bed and wrapped her arms around the shuddering woman and began kissing her soft beautiful face.

For Maryann the tender lips on her forehead and eyes and cheeks was like nothing she'd ever felt before. The kisses she exchanged, usually in greeting, with her erstwhile husband were hard and cold; less tender than a warm handshake. When he occasionally kissed her during their lovemaking it was even harder and more aggressive. Elizabeth's lips were so soft and sensual feeling. The post orgasmic cloud that she was floating on seemed to get caught in an updraft. Soaring on the thermal she sought out her neighbor's exploring lips with her own. She tasted her own juices and for a moment wondered if Elizabeth tasted different but then she was consumed by the sheer delight of the way their mouths molded around each other and the way their tongues interacted inside the adjoined mouths.

A couple of blocks away the song was playing loudly from the mp-3 player hooked to the amplified speakers.

'Us girls we are so magical ... soft skin red lips so kissable ... hard to resist so touchable ... too good to deny it ... ain't no big deal its innocent... '

Around the corner of the house the shouts of the acrobatic practicing cheerleaders did not interfere with Michelle and Melanie's ability to hear Katy Perry's voice clearly. Nor did it interfere with their enjoyment of each others 'red lips so kissable—' but when Melanie's hand slid up under Michelle's top and cupped her pubescent boobie the shouts were handy in covering the younger girl's squeal.