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There was a popping sound as their mouths separated. Ellen's head descended to the tits she'd just bared, and she wetted Stacy's nipples with her spit before she drew them into her mouth for some heavy suckling. Stacy could feel her paps erecting against Ellen's flicking tongue and she seemed to be moist and tingly all over. Women sucked tit so much better than men did, no matter how well-intentioned the guy was.

She got her sweatshirt off while Ellen nursed at her ample bosom, and then Ellen asked her to take off her ass-hugging jeans as well. That was fine by Stacy, who stood up, unhooked herself, and slid the pants down her hips so slowly Ellen moaned in frustrated anticipation. It was worth the wait. Stacy wore nothing at all under her clothes – nothing except her skin and fluffy patch of hair in a provocative place. Ellen had seen it this afternoon at the porno shooting, but the script hadn't called for her to do anything about it. She'd been busy sucking a guy while Stacy ate her out and even when his jism spurted onto her face Ellen had been dreaming of the moment that was right now at hand.

Ellen was still on her knees. She touched the jeans at Stacy's feet, helped Stacy remove them from her ankles, then let her hands glide up the girl's smooth, silky thighs. Two fingers delicately brushed the clump of hair, and Ellen looked up with a contented smile. "I can hear it crackle," she said in a happy, airy voice. "Do you think it means we have an electric attraction?"

"Why don't you see if you can make me light up?" Stacy suggested wickedly.

Ellen laughed. She put both hands on Stacy's bush and pulled the gates wide with as gentle a touch as her excitement would allow. She saw the pussy open up before her eyes, moisture already dewing on the slick coral vulva. Stacy's hole winked at Ellen, a tunnel inviting the exploration of tongue or fingers. She wanted to tell Stacy that she looked good enough to eat, but did she have to do it verbally? Ellen's face moved in close and her tongue skated across the snatch she had excavated.

Stacy grabbed Ellen by the ears, seeking to pull her inside. Ellen's stubby nose burrowed among the folds of vaginal tissue while her tongue alternated between the clitty and the snug, wet opening. If her chin and cheeks were being tickled by Stacy's thick beaver fuzz it was a sensation that seemed to delight her, for she gave her head little twists and jiggles that caused stimulation to flit back and forth across Stacy's cunt.

Stacy felt a momentary weakness at her knees, and for a moment she had a flash of fear that she might fall. Ellen must have felt that trembling, for she grabbed Stacy by the buttocks and steadied the girl's body with her own. Stacy clutched Ellen's head for reassurance and let herself be supported by her strong young friend. "Why don't we lie down?" she suggested.

Ellen's apartment had but one room, together with a tiny bath, and her bed was a thick mattress spread right on the floor. As Stacy planted herself upon it she sighed. It was soft as a featherbed and her body seemed to sink through layers of down.

Beside her stood Ellen, undressing herself. The actress removed her blouse and slacks, then knelt by the bed in her underthings. Turning around, she asked Stacy to unhook her bra – a task Stacy was only too glad to perform. The brassiere fell away and Ellen, still kneeling, wiggled out of her panties. She rose to her feet without turning yet, shaking her head to make her tong hair fall down her back. When she turned, her eyes were intensely fixed on Stacy's face.

"DO you like me?" she asked. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"My God," said Stacy. "Of course I do!"

"Honest?"

"Of course," she told Ellen impatiently. "Come here. I want you now."

Ellen eased onto the mattress, rolling into Stacy's arms. Their legs interlaced so that each girl had a thigh pressing the other's pussy. Ellen's slice grew damp as Stacy rubbed it with her leg, and she knew that her own slit was already as wet as though she'd just pissed herself.

Between kisses she asked Ellen, "Why did you want to know if I thought you were pretty? Lord! You've been in a hundred movies."

"I wanted to know what you thought of me," Ellen replied softly. "Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and all I see is ugly, and other times…"

"This is one of those other times," Stacy said, planting a hickey on Ellen's neck. At the same time she worked a finger into her friend's slit, pushing it as deeply as she could. The cunt within that sliced bun was already slick and it grew positively sloppy as Stacy's wrist gave a twist that made the inserted finger turn counter-clockwise, ninety degrees. Ellen squealed and squirmed, her snatch releasing a bubbling wetness that drenched Stacy's entire hand.

A byproduct of Ellen's agitated twitching was the frantic rub of her smooth thigh on Stacy's puss. A breath caught in Stacy's throat and she said, "Oh!" In another moment Ellen had gotten her finger into Stacy and each girl was diddling the other as the mattress bounced beneath them. Ellen jerked and moaned as Stacy pronged her deeply, her tongue fluttering excitedly, in the gap of her parted lips, but Stacy's own cries were so loud in her ears that she could scarcely hear Ellen. She clutched at Ellen's thumb with her cunt but it slipped from her all the same, and now, instead of being finger-pronged, she was being frigged. Ellen's hand slid up and down the ravine of Stacy's sex, the friction kindling a heat that threatened to burst into roaring flame.

Stacy twisted herself suddenly, her finger popping from Ellen's cunt. The warm hairy swamp was empty only for an instant, Stacy's head dancing in to pick up where her finger had left off. She opened Ellen with her fingers and she began to drink the honey seeping from that lovely pink pussy. The clit seemed to jump into her mouth, and she dragged at it with her lips, sucking, biting, smacking greedily. Ellen screamed and lunged up with her cunt, treating Stacy to an even bigger mouthful than she'd intended to receive at the moment. Wet hair tickled Stacy's lips, dripping cream wafted into her nostrils, and her tongue glided through slick greasy caverns of delight. She felt the tidal wave of Ellen's cum, and she thrust her tongue into the sucking pussy to taste all the joy she'd brought her friend.

At almost the same moment she willed her own body to let itself go Ellen's fingers were jerking mechanically on the outer lips of her slice, and Stacy closed her thighs on that hand. Trapped in Stacy's cunt, the other girl's hand shoved back, hot and hard, and Stacy felt herself pass the point of no return. She wriggled her hips and thighs, juice drenching Ellen's clutching, caressing fist. The mattress shook and rattled for almost five minutes, neither girl willing to let go her hold on the other. It was a cum to remember.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Like kids on a weeknight date, Connie and Roger were sharing a pitcher of beer and a super deluxe pizza at a back booth in a small Village restaurant. Connie could belt gin all evening without any appreciable effect, but a couple of beers left her giggly. And horny, too. She had one shoe off beneath the table, and her toes had inserted themselves under Roger's trouser leg.

"[missing text]," he said. "You've finished your second film. And it's going to be a good one. Wait till you see the final cut."

"It was Stacy's idea," Connie smiled. "I don't think I'd have done it if she hadn't been so excited by the prospect of being in a pornographic film. But she wasn't very good, was she?"

Roger shrugged. "Depends on how you classify good. She is a rotten actress. Almost as bad as Ellen Pascoe. On the credit side, she is enthusiastic and photogenic. She could make a career of it, if she wanted to. But she can't compare with her mother."