They both stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Jean clutched Monique around the girl's waist and giggled helplessly.
“How silly we are!” she gasped. “Oh, Monique, to think that we both had the same secret and we were both so stupidly ashamed of it!” Jean could feel the French girl's body shaking with laughter against her face. Through the thin sweater she could smell the sweetness of Monique's perfume — a subtle and fresh bouquet which blended wonderfully with the girl's feminine scent.
She drew Monique down until her ear was level with Jean's mouth. “Tell me", she whispered. “Did you enjoy touching yourself, Monique? Tell me what it was like…'
The girl stiffened slightly, then Jean felt her body relax again. “I was in the bath", she replied, lowering her voice to a husky, breathy whisper. “And suddenly I felt this desire to — to feel myself. Do you know what I mean?”
Jean nodded, keeping her lips close to Monique's ear, her face only scant inches from the French girl's.
“I pretended to myself that it was another girl who was touching me", Monique continued. Her voice was so low that Jean had to strain her ears to hear what she was saying. “I put my fingers between my thighs and…”
“Yes?” Jean felt breathless, a curious constriction in her throat as she waited for the girl to go on.
“I touched myself, very intimately", Monique whispered. “Right inside… I put my fingers right inside myself — just as you did, Jean. The hot water made me feel so sexy…
“Then, afterwards, I hated myself for being so weak and for having such awful thoughts — ”.
“Awful?” Jean murmured. “What was so awful about them?”
Monique's eyelashes fluttered nervously. “To imagine another girl touching me? Don't you think that is awful, Jean?”
“Why, no", Jean said slowly. “I don't really think so. Has it ever happened to you, Monique? Have you ever been caressed by a girl?”
“No…” Monique's voice trembled. She breathed the word out and managed to make it sound more like an invitation than a denial. “Have you, Jean?”
“Once", Jean told her. “A long time ago — at school. Why do you think it's so awful if you've never experienced it, darling?” The endearment was spoken before she realised what she was saying. And Jean knew that even if, at the start, she had only intended to tease the girl, from this moment on she was deadly serious in her flirtation. The hairs' breadth between playfulness and seduction had been crossed — perhaps without either of the girls realising it.
Before Monique could reply, Jean slipped both her hands down until they rested on the girl's buttocks. She began to rub them gently and softly, making no attempt o disguise what she was doing.
Slowly, Monique turned her face around until her breath mingled with Jeans and her eyes looked into the woman's. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “Jean — you mustn't! You mustn't!”
But Jean's hands were already lifting up the pleated skirt, twitching it steadily over the girl's thighs. Monique's legs were bare and as Jean's fingers finished their work of raising the short skirt over them she could feel the firm flesh tightening as the girl's muscles contracted in protest.
Monique put her hands on Jean's shoulders and tried to push her away. “Don't fight me, darling!” Jean begged. “Let me see if I can give you more pleasure than you gave yourself! Let me try!”
The French girl stared down into Jean's eyes, fear and desire battling for dominance within her. She began to shake her head wildly from side to side — thrusting herself backwards. But Jean kept her hands firmly on Monique's buttocks, fingers now resting on the girl's pantie-clad cheeks beneath her skirt. She pursed her lips, inclining them towards Monique's, at the same time drawing the girl downwards to her mouth.
Monique felt as if she was being swept along by a powerful current of emotion which led towards fearful rapids and whirlpools. She knew that her control was growing weaker every moment and struggled to regain some measure of will-power. Her resistance (which, she perceived dimly, might after all have been merely token) at last broke completely — and Monique gave a final cry of despair, then allowed her lips to come into sweet contact with Jean's.
The girls kissed fiercely, crushing their mouths together with a suddenly unleashed passion which surprised them both. Violently, their soft lips pressed and merged, moving constantly — rubbing against each other as Jean and Monique sought in their separate ways for their taste of private pleasure.
Monique's hands now stole around Jean's neck. Her fingers met in the woman's hair and she seized twin handfuls of the jet black tresses, forcing Jean's head even more firmly forward whilst she thrust her live, wriggling tongue between the girl's lips.
It met Jean's — and the slippery, wet tongues joined in a lascivious meeting: darting eagerly together, tasting and lapping…
Slowly, Jean raised herself up from the chair and drew Monique sideways to the bed. Still kissing, the girls fell onto the unmade sheets, arms wound tightly around each other. They pushed their bodies quickly into one another, Monique's sharp-pointed breasts sticking through the thin material of her sweater into the larger, softer orbs of Jean's bosom.
Until she had made absolutely sure that Monique was hers completely — hers to do whatever she liked with — Jean didn't dare to release the girl's mouth. She kissed the precious lips fervently, exploring Monique's teeth and gums with the tip of her tongue, while her hands busied themselves at the voluptuous spread of the girl's bottom.
She fondled the cheeks with her roaming fingers, tracing a pattern along the tight nip of Monique's panties. The briefs were extremely close-fitting — and evidently several sizes too small for the girl. They left at least half of each buttock completely bare, and swathed the remainder of Monique's firm-cheeked arse so snugly that Jean had the greatest difficulty in slipping her fingertips beneath the hem.
At last she succeeded in wiggling her fingers under the taut elastic and onto the curvy cheeks themselves. She thought with a sharp thrill how lovely her own bottom had felt and how glorious it was to be able to fondle and caress this beautiful young girl's buttocks — without the slightest fear that Monique would object. She was absolutely certain of this, because the French girl was now busily adjusting her own dressing gown, pulling it up at the back to give her access to Jean's hidden charms.
Jean waited breathlessly for Monique's hands to descend on her waiting bottom. The girl's fingers were now, at this very moment, stealing slowly up the backs of her thighs… They stroked the flesh gently, kneading it with loving caresses, gradually slipping nearer and nearer to the exciting warmth of Jean's buttocks.
Moving as unobtrusively as possible, Jean let her thighs open a fraction — giving Monique the opportunity to fondle at the intimate inner flesh of her leg if the girl wished.
Monique panted deliciously into her mouth, emitting tiny little animal moans as she worked her fingers the rest of the way up Jean's thighs. Hoping to urge the girl to a faster exploration, Jean began to dig the sexy panties down Monique's hips, peeling them like a second skin over the French girl's shapely bottom.
She got them well off the cheeks, then left them in a screwed-up bundle stretching around the tops of the girl's thighs. Her hands moved up again, now able to move without restraint over the total bareness of Monique's darling arse. Jean patted the cheeks lovingly, hearing the faint slaps of her palms against the curved white orbs with a rising excitement.
Her fingers pressed once more into the yielding softness and she started to pull the globes apart. They yielded sweetly to her demands, the muscles slackening so that Jean could open the buttocks as fully as possible. She held them wide, one hand on each cheek, unable to see the glorious secrets which her fingers were revealing, but nevertheless relishing the blatant exposure of the girl's most private parts.