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"Your first one, huh?"

"My very first."

"So how did it happen? Did she seduce you?"

"Nosey, aren't you? Oh well, if you must know. No, she didn't seduce me, not exactly. She used to walk around in her underwear and sometimes without it! just to make me notice her. And she was something to see, sure enough. I'd look at her and get all hot-'n'-bothered and couldn't understand why. Then one night she came home from a date half-loaded, almost too drunk to walk. I heard her stumble on the stairs and ran down to help her. She needed help, too. I had to undress her and put her to bed. And before it was over, she fell asleep like that, naked, right there in front of me, that beautiful naked body and it was like some kind of mystery I had to solve, you know? Especially that dark place between her legs. So I got right down there and solved it, the mystery, once and for all."

"While she was sleeping? Didn't she wake up?"

"She sure did. Or she could have been faking to begin with, just to find out how far I'd go. Like it was all my idea, the whole sexy business. Anyhow, pretty soon she was holding me tight and rubbing her pussy all over my mouth, my face it was all furry and moist and hot… and I just fell in love with her… "

"In love? Really? You did it again after that?"

"Lots of times. Whenever she let me. That was how it was between us; oh, she became real bossy. She used to get a kick out of humiliating me. Sometimes she'd pull her panties off and tease me until I begged and then she would turn around and make me kiss her there, her behind, her bare bottom "

"Her bare ass? You kissed "

"I had to lick it, lick her bare ass. She loved that, my tongue inside the crack… "

It was a weird and wonderful story, and Judy tried to listen closely and hear more and concentrate on the details. But now, all of a sudden, she visualized the scene and started to giggle. It struck her as hilariously funny somehow, seeing that tongue and remembering where it had been. She couldn't seem to stop giggling. Except once, momentarily, to gulp some wine and ease the hoarseness in her throat two lusty swallows that drained the glass dry. And it was then, rising to reach for the strangely elusive bottle, that she felt the floor tilt and saw the walls begin to whirl and realized that another drink was the least of her needs.

Luckily there was someone to come to her rescue, someone to grab hold and guide her toward the stairway to bed. Someone with a strong arm and a solid shoulder and just the hint of a soft bosom to cushion the shock of her semi-conscious journey. And then, magically, the journey was over and she was falling, falling…

"That's it, darling. Relax. I'll take care of you. Let's get some of these tight clothes off, hmm? We won't need the light."

What happened next was like a dream. The same dream? No, of course not. How marvelous to feel like this, naked and comfy-cozy at last, incapable of exact movement but adrift and aimless and free just the same. She stirred languorously, sighing as the damp warmth of a kiss dabbed at one ear and then skated down her neck, the base of her throat, into the valley between her breasts. My boobs, suck my boobs! The darkness was abruptly alive with a faceless desire that feasted upon her already stiffening nipples. They rose toward the source of pleasure, her tits swollen with heavy expectancy, trying to treasure this single sweet sensation and pay no attention to the butterfly caress that roamed her body elsewhere. Down her belly now, the touch of feathery fingers, so delicate!

Delicate but greedy. And soon that too demanded more than mere passing notice. She gave it with a certain diminishing reluctance, writhing and twisting like a sluggish feline, slowly, lazily, letting her slim curves and contours conform to the glide-path of those venturesome fingertips. The darkness helped, blurring reality, as much an intoxicant as the alcohol and it seemed only right to accept this benign treatment without investigating the pedigree of its donor. She was even a little grateful for the nice maid-service, the lift upstairs and into bed such tender loving care! quite aside from her more tangible enjoyment of those amorous lips and fingers playing on her body with a deftly sensitive touch.

The hand on her belly soon became difficult, though, brushing right past its supposed target to extend the butterfly caresses down her thighs. And then back up again, pausing and tightening to a clutch as if it had made an important discovery there, on the inner thigh-surfaces, high up; young stuff, soft and satiny, huh? The fingers were squeezing now, close but still hesitant, still avoiding the already primed and probably steamy-slick cleft of her cunt.

Then, from above, the kissing mouth began a deliberate downward slide. Judy stifled a sob, a cry of impatience, arching her torso suggestively in an impetuous plea for haste. It went unheeded as the movement continued slowly, tantalizingly; and she became a writhing cat once more, this time with a sense of urgency coaxing, wheedling, willing those lesbian lips onward. Downward. Cuntward! Into a perverted lesbian suck…

The thrill struck with an unbelievable impact. Because of the suspense, she figured. Not that she had much to go by in comparison. It just seemed bigger and better, hotter and heavier, almost emotional in its driving intensity. Maybe even a little too much so, the way her flesh was getting chewed up by those crunching jaws. It was pretty painful and she had a good mind to speak up and say so, loud and clear. But somehow, vaguely, she recognized the risk in such a drastic course, the almost certain change of mood. Only the sounds of love were permissible, the sexy noises, a sigh, a moan, a gasp and always the faint liquid rustle of flesh on slithery flesh. An acceptance of the dream, a rejection of reality! And any verbal communication was bound to destroy the fragile dream-web, the mystery, leaving only the acknowledgement of an ugly truth. Even the atmosphere precluded speech, the thick and impenetrable darkness hanging like a cloak of silence. But then it really didn't matter any more, the pain, the pleasure, whatever it was all beyond her control now as her entire body started to shudder and shake in the onslaught of the approaching climax. She couldn't control anything now, not any more than she could control the great tremors that were wracking her flesh and turning any possible protest that rose to her lips into an unintelligible, gasping groan.

Chapter 9

They descended lingeringly from the blinding summit of sexual pleasure, their naked bodies bathed in perspiration. A cool breeze from the open window dried their damp skin. Still panting, Alison waited for some comment on her performance, hopeful of a compliment but always prepared for criticism.

"Darling… "

"Vera? Was it all right?"

"Simply grand. You're really learning."

"I I'm still just a beginner."

"You get better and better. Now enough of this, let's relax and have a drink, huh?"

Alison did the honors gladly, fetching drinks and cigarettes and then rearranging the bed pillows for the comfort of her beloved friend, glad to serve even in this small way. Just so long as she could go on serving in that other, much greater way! All the dormant sensuality of her nature had been awakened and aroused to vivid life in the exercise of such service, and it was only then ministering to her lover's bawdy lusts that she reached these essential and ever more imperative peaks in her constant and all but unremitting state of eroticism. In retrospect there were times when this seemed like an almost morbid kind of happiness, admittedly certainly the perverse fascination itself was morbid! but that was something she had already accepted and grown accustomed to. Regardless of the rueful memories and mildly gnawing remorse, she became impatient from one date to the next to bury her head between those big creamy thighs and just wallow in the thrill, the lewdly exciting thrill; was there ever such a sexy-dirty thrill?