So it was that this Saturday night Maryon found herself being led straightaway upstairs in Karen's house to what the black-haired girl referred to as her studio. Her parents had gone out to dinner and a movie, it seemed, and the two girls were alone in the house.
"Gee, this is a swell pad. Groovy!" exclaimed Maryon, looking around her at the room. All the walls were curtained, and, being large, was draped so that behind the black hangings Karen could store books and clothes and albums. Even her record-player was hidden away there. The ceiling was likewise draped in black, like the inside of a tent, with only a glittering electric chandelier hanging from its center, with various colored bulbs set in it. A large mirror, tilted slightly forward, faced the foot of the bed, which itself was just a plain box-spring topped by a mattress, and shrouded in a multiplicity of imitation animal skins and furs, with brightly colored cushions thrown carelessly upon it. On the floor were thick, intricately designed rugs, and there was a long footstool to one side of the bed. "Wow… groovy, man!" repeated Maryon, impressed with this exotic display so simply and economically achieved.
"Yeah… see; any kind of light I want, too, fixed it up myself," said the older girl, showing off, reaching under the covers of the bed to produce a small console of switches which, as she clicked them on and off, brought different colors out to glow from the chandelier, so that the room went through the changes of pure white, purple, red, green, yellow, blue, pink, orange… too many for Maryon to take in at one glance… and then in various combinations. Finally Karen left the lights to burn with a mysterious green effect with a touch of red in it, so that her oval, white-skinned face, framed by the long, straight jet black hair, might have illustrated a book on young witchcraft, and causing a strange sheen on the patterned nylon of the lounging pajamas she wore, whose belled legs and arms floated about her like seaweed.
"Loose your threads and park your butt, kiddo," she said, plunking herself down on the bed and patting a place beside her. "So, hey… what's up? How come you haven't been around?"
Maryon slipped off her boots and socks and wriggled her toes into the warm depths of the rug, shrugged out of her coat and hung it behind the drapes, and affected a yawning stretch, a bit guilty at having ignored Karen for so long. In the mirror she saw herself reflected, a bit bigger and fuller than her friend, despite their ages, and wearing a simple green skirt and a white blouse that also, in this light, was tinged green.
Sitting herself down on the bed, she made a few excuses, then gradually introduced the subject of the Bare-Stud-Cats Club, and let herself be drawn out about what they did there.
Karen looked at her perceptively from under her long black lashes as she finished. "Uh, kiddo, something tells me you're not too turned on by it, this Club of yours, and all this screwing, huh?"
Maryon admitted she was right. Karen nodded wisely, her secret eyes flashing in the odd green shadows. "Gave up most of that stuff myself, couple of years back. Oh hell, yeah, you're not the only kids to get a kick out of fucking, y'know. Some of the rest of us got our kicks in too. But I dropped outa screwing around with those jerks, those little-boy-bastards, long since. Got something better than that going for me now."
Maryon looked her enquiry.
"Chicks, man! What else? It's the only way to go! Y'ever go down on a chick, kiddo, or have one go down on you? Someone sympathetic and easy and slow, and not some cat hustling fast to get his rocks off, and screw your chance of getting your kicks?"
Thinking back, Maryon realized that, especially of late, she had had fewer climaxes and more instances of the boys in the Club using her as a kind of masturbatory machine… whip it in, whip it out, and wipe it! She confessed, a bit shyly, of her lack of satisfaction recently, but added that actually the girls in the Club were straight, and got their sexual kicks from plain and fancy heterosexual balling, though they turned to with a will on initiation nights, many hands making light work, as it were.
"Huh, too many fucking cooks screwing up the soup!" said Karen with a dainty snort and a toss of her head that sent ripples of green through her black hair. "Tell you what, baby, why don't I teach you a few tricks of the game, huh? C'mon, get down to your skin, now… What d'you say?"
Maryon hesitated for a moment then, willing to try anything at least once, slid off the bed and stood in front of Karen, who propped herself up on one elbow to look.
Maryon looked into Karen's hidden face then began to loosen the buttons on her blouse. Karen merely continued to watch her, making no move to also undress. Maryon felt a little self-conscious, but it didn't keep her from sliding her blouse from her slim shoulders, unzipping and stepping out of her skirt, and sliding her half-slip down over her strong thighs before discarding it, bending down to tug the elastic free of her feet. When she raised herself she wore only her black bra and panties, brief, lacy garments that did little more than accentuate the bounding curves of her breasts and hips and belly. She felt goose-pimples sweep over her body and knew that they were caused by the steady, curl-lash-concealed gaze of Karen.
"Aren't you going to get… naked, too?" she asked, after a pause, shifting her weight from shapely leg to outthrust thigh.
"Sure, kiddo, just as soon as you're in your skin."
With a slight feeling of irritation, Maryon reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. Pulling the wisp of a thing from her breasts, she felt the black lace catch at her hardening nipples.
Karen whistled. "You're built, kiddo," she commented, her eyes sweeping over the green-tinted mounds of breasts and dropping to the subtler curves of the hard, firm belly beneath.
"I guess I'll do," said Maryon, blushing despite herself at this unabashed feminine inspection. Karen continued to stare until Maryon could do nothing more than step out of her panties, conscious of the swing forward of her heavy breasts as she leaned forward. Then, totally nude, she faced Karen again. The older girl laughed, sat up, caught at the flaring edge of her colored top and brought her arms up to fight her bead through the neck-hole, revealing to Maryon's interested gaze that the black-haired girl's breasts were as shallow and oval as ever, except that now the dark areolas were larger and bumpier, and the hard black nipples, excited by the draw of nylon over them, were longer and more pointed, though as slender as before, like slim fingers of carbon. Lifting her cheeks up one at a time, still fixing Maryon with a half-concealed took of antic amusement, Karen pulled her pajama pants out from under, with one swift movement bent forward and slid them down her legs, threw them floatingly aside, and stood up, arms and legs stretched wide, back arched. "Voila!" she cried, with a laugh, delighting in her total exposure. As on the last time Maryon'd seen her naked, the girl's crotch was shaved clean, as were her legs, belly and arms. Her natural ivory coloring was excitingly enhanced by the soft green light that shone on it.
Karen posed for a minute, shaking her head to let the long black hair sweep about her, pulling out the pins in it till it hung to her buttocks, then, without further ado, stepped forward and embraced Maryon, putting her arms about waist and neck, presenting her lips to be kissed, turning her face up to the taller, younger girl's. With a twitch of her hip she slid one thin thigh between Maryon's, boldly pressing it against her gold-haired Venus-mount and rubbing it up and down as her tongue slid into the opened mouth above her.