by R. Gay
“Sorry to put you through this so early.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my pleasure.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be all about my pleasure?”
She giggled, but my laughter died in my throat. I tried to keep my composure, but her teasing seemed more pointed than usual. I turned on the water and hurried through the hair washing. I was determined to be businesslike. But, as Ida sat up with the towel on her head, she hit me with another zinger.
“I wasn’t expecting a quickie from you. You are usually so thorough. Must be all that sex with men. Over before you know it.”
I watched as she stalked toward the chair, her hips swaying more than usual. It was like she was deliberately trying to work me up. If I didn’t know Ida better, I’d say she was trying to seduce me. I ran my fingers through her wet hair, shaking her head slightly as I fluffed her strands out between my fingers.
“God, I love it when you do that. It feels so good. So, Karen, you didn’t say anything last week. Are you seeing anyone?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Why not? You’re not still hung up on that Mitch guy, are you?”
“No. It’s not that. I just, well, I haven’t had much luck lately.”
“Maybe you just aren’t looking in the right places. Sometimes you find people in the places you least expect.”
Ida swung the chair around so she was facing me. My eyes stole down and looked at her perky breasts in her camisole. Again, her nipples were hard against the pink silk. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer, her face inches from mine.
“I don’t have a presentation this morning. I just wanted us to be alone, Karen. I’ve waited long enough for you to make the first move. You do want me, don’t you, Karen?”
I stumbled to find the words, the thoughts, anything to make sense of what she was saying. My body was screaming at me to make a move, but something in my brain stopped me. The good girl, the nice, straight girl inside me was protesting. Ida reached up and touched my cheek, successfully quieting my inner prude for the moment. I swallowed hard, and somehow found the courage I had never been able to find before.
“Yes. I’ve wanted you since the first time you walked in here, Ida.”
Ida ran her thumb over my bottom lip, causing a small moan to escape my lips. Her sleek, long fingers trailed over my face, leaving heat streaks over my skin. I eased closer to her, trying to bring our lips together.
“I knew it. I always knew it.”
Ida touched her lips against mine, gently rubbing her soft, full bottom lip over mine. She stood up, moving me back against the wall without touching me. Her hands ran through my hair for a change, my blonde locks moving easily through her fingers. Suddenly, she grabbed a handful and pulled me to her. Our lips crashed together, finally fulfilling my fantasy of tasting her mouth.
Her tongue was hot, burning against mine as her hand pulled a little harder on my hair. I squealed, but the sound was trapped between our mouths. My hands instinctively moved to her barely covered breasts, rubbing the silk over her tight nipples. She released my hair, easing her hand down to my neck. Her nails gently scratched over my skin, as her tongue plunged farther into my mouth. She pressed her chest into my hands, and I obliged her by pinching her nipples between my fingers. It was her turn to moan, our mouths parting long enough to let it echo through the room.
My hand moved to the zipper of her wool skirt. I wanted to taste the rest of her, feel her wet pussy on my tongue. Any inhibitions I had were gone, replaced with the pure need to experience Ida, feel her near me. I eased her skirt down her hips, wanting to prolong the anticipation. I stared into her beautiful eyes as I dropped to my knees in front of her. Her pussy was visibly wet, her silky panties clinging to her swollen lips. My hands trembled as I reached for her, my finger hooking on the elastic. I gasped when I pulled her panties aside and saw that her perfectly smooth lips were indeed slick with moisture. Her hand went to the back of my head, pulling me close enough to smell her strong musk. Tentatively, I slid my tongue gently between her lips, her sweet, tangy juices hitting my taste buds. My novice technique still managed to find her clit, hard and small under the tip of my tongue. A slip of a moan escaped her mouth, her hand clutching at my hair tighter. My finger eased inside her, her warm pussy opening to accommodate me.
I could barely believe it was happening, it all felt so surreal. My head swam and her moans filled my ears as I pressed on, slipping another finger inside her sweet, tight pussy. My tongue grew bolder, running up and down over her clit, no longer worrying if I was doing it right. Her body told me all I needed to know. Her hips thrust into my face, her hands twined in my hair. Ida was babbling, incoherent in her pleasure, my name tumbling out of her mouth, just like in my fantasy. I twisted my fingers gently as I pushed inside her, my tongue circling her clit over and over. As much as I wanted to touch my own pussy, I resisted. My focus stayed solely on Ida. I could tell she was getting close. I sucked her clit gently between my lips. Her pussy tightened around my thrusting fingers. She screamed.
“Oh, Karen. Keep going, just like that. I’m going to come.”
Her hands were like steel on my head, holding me tight as she rode my tongue and lips. Her orgasm rippled over my fingers, a fresh wash of moisture coating my skin. Slowly, Ida began to stop moving, her hips jumping forward in one last thrust before falling back against the wall. She loosened her grip, her fingers gently caressing my locks again. With one last flick of my tongue, I pulled back and looked up at Ida. Her spent body rested against the wall, her thighs still visibly trembling. She pulled me up to my feet, her mouth covering mine before I could say a word. Her fingers rubbed my pussy through the denim of my jeans, making my desire acute and achy.
The button of my jeans was soon open, the zipper slowly lowering. But, just then, the front doorbell rang out in the silence. Ida and I jumped apart, straightening ourselves as my coworker Tim came into the salon. I yanked my pants closed, Ida zipping up as Tim’s footsteps grew closer.
“Hey, you two. Early start, huh?”
Ida was back in the chair, looking innocently at a magazine. I knew my face was bright red, but I tried to ignore it, and the more pressing heat between my legs.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
I was so relieved when Tim rounded the corner without another word. I turned to Ida, who just smiled. Picking up my blow-dryer with a sigh, I finished Ida’s hair without another word. I could still smell her on my face; my mind was still stuck between her thighs.
CECILY
Kris Adams
Cecily sighed as she watched the movers load her furniture into the van across the street. Tomorrow her husband would be back to drive them across the country to their new house. She’d seen it in a photograph. It was newer and larger than their current home, but something about it left her feeling cold, empty.
“Did they get everything?” Cecily turned from the window and nodded sadly at Mary, her neighbor and dearest friend from the moment they first met two years ago. Mary wiped her hands on her apron and sat down at her kitchen table. “I can hardly believe that tomorrow morning Cliff will be here and…you’ll be on your way. Did he say what time?”
“Around ten.” Cecily walked around the kitchen, opening cabinets and inspecting their contents.
“You’re making me nervous, Cec! Please, sit down. Tonight I’m making your favorite pot roast with red wine, and for dessert—homemade blackberry cobbler!”
“Oh, Mary. You don’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”
Mary smoothed her apron over her short dress. “Of course I do. It’s your favorite and it’s the last time I’ll get to make it for you.”
“Don’t say that.” Cecily laid a hand on Mary’s wrist. “We’ll visit, won’t we?”
Mary cleared her throat. “You’ll be nearly three thousand miles away.”
“I just thought that…never mind.” Cecily looked out the window. When Mary saw the distance in her eyes, s
he grasped Cecily’s hand and squeezed.
“Of course we’ll visit. What’s a whole continent between friends?”
“Best friends,” Cecily whispered. Her eyes were wet.
“Do you miss your husband when he’s out of town?”
Mary sipped her wine before answering. “I used to. When we first got married, and Bill would be away for work, sometimes for months at a time, I’d cry myself to sleep. I was so lonely.” She took another sip, licked the sweet wine from her lips. “Now it’s not so bad. I guess I’m used to it.”
Flipping through a box of photographs, Cecily found a picture of the two of them at a backyard barbecue, posing like high-fashion models. “So, what changed?”
“You moved here. I wasn’t so lonely anymore,” Mary replied. They shared a shy smile, and then Mary stood and pointed toward the bathroom. “You want the bath first?”
“No, go ahead. I’m taking this photo, okay?”
Mary leaned on Cecily’s shoulder as she inspected the picture. “Oh, I love that one. You’re always so glamorous. You could be a movie star.” Laughing, Cecily reached up to thank her friend by softly stroking the hair at the nape of her neck. Mary sighed and kissed Cecily on the forehead before heading to the bathroom. “Take whatever pictures you want, honey.”
“I will.” She wondered if Bill would miss the photo of Mary in a racy two-piece bathing suit, winking flirtatiously at the camera. “Too bad,” she whispered as she pocketed it.
“I’m coming in!” Mary peeked inside the candlelit bathroom, and seeing that Cecily was up to her collarbone in bubbles, she tiptoed in with a fresh glass of wine.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mary?”
Mary nearly tripped into the bath. “Of course not!”
“I’m kidding!” Cecily grabbed the glass and took a long sip.
“Thanks. Oh, I must have forgotten to pack a nightgown. Do you mind if I borrow one of yours?”
“No, I don’t mind.” Mary couldn’t help smiling. “You all set in here?”
“Yes. Sit with me for a while?”
“Sure.” Mary sat carefully on the bathtub edge. They stayed silent for a while, watching the candlelight flickering, until Mary looked down and saw that the bubbles had started to dissipate. “Want some more bubble oil?”
“No, but can you do me a favor and get my back?” Mary knelt on the floor, took the washcloth and rubbed gentle circles over Cecily’s shoulders. Careful not to wet her pinned-up hair, she squeezed warm sudsy water on her neck before scrubbing down her back. “That feels so good, Mare.”
“N-nothing like h-hot water to relax you.”
“It’s not the water. It’s you.” Mary froze, and Cecily tensed, sputtering, “I mean, uh, you’ve got such a soft touch. That’s what I meant.”
“Right. Finished with your back.” Mary rushed to her knees and grimaced at the wet spots on her robe where the water splashed. “Enjoy the bath.”
“I’m done now,” Cecily murmured, standing up before Mary could turn away. Mary’s heart started to race when she caught a glimpse of Cecily’s naked wet body, and it continued to race as she rushed back to her bedroom to look for a spare nightgown. She had only two clean gowns—one long sleeved and thick, the other sheer and short. She started to leave them both out so Cecily could choose; then she thought about tomorrow morning, when Cecily’s husband would take her away forever. Snickering, she shoved the thick nightgown back into her drawer.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the guest room? You’d have a bed all to yourself.”
Cecily turned down one corner of Mary and Bill’s bed. “Why make up the guest bed just for me? I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”
“I don’t mind. Just thought I’d offer.”
“Do you have any lotion?”
“In the bathroom.” Mary watched Cecily turn around, the thin nightgown barely concealing her slinky panties and lack of bra. Pulse quickening, Mary threw off her robe and slid into her side of the bed wearing a nightgown that was longer, but no less sheer than the one she loaned Cecily.
“This smells nice. Here.” Slipping into the bed hands free, Cecily took Mary’s hands in hers and rubbed. Mary smiled bashfully but didn’t take her hands away, enjoying the gentle massage. “Give me your feet.”
“Oh, no!”
“They’re clean. C’mon.” Ignoring Mary’s protests, Cecily dug down into the sheets until she found a foot. “There. Move over.” Rolling her eyes, Mary turned to lay her feet in Cecily’s lap. “Don’t you love to have your feet rubbed?”
Mary shifted nervously. “Bill rarely touches my feet.”
“Same here. Cliff hasn’t touched my feet once in the five years we’ve been married. The only hands my feet have ever felt were my own.” She rubbed each toe individually, then ran her fingernail up the bottom of the foot.
“Ah! I’m ticklish!” Mary squealed as she pulled her feet back to her side of the bed.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” They stretched out, looking up at the ceiling. “What time is it?”
Cecily looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Almost eleven.”
“We better get to sleep. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”
Minutes went by, but neither woman seemed tired. If anything, they were vibrating with nervous energy. Eventually Mary whispered, “So…what else hasn’t Cliff done in five years?”
Cecily laughed, to her friend’s relief. “The usual—cook, clean, pick up his laundry, remember my birthday, that sort of thing.”
“I hear you there.” Mary shifted nervously. “But…you love him, right?”
Cecily took her time answering. “Sure I do. Just like you love your husband, right?”
“Right.”
“But that’s not the only kind of love,” Cecily stated quickly. “It’s not like the love you have for your parents or your siblings. Or your friends.” Mary nodded, her eyes trained on the ceiling. “I mean, I love Cliff. But I also love my friends.”
Mary rubbed at her face to cover her satisfied smile. “I love my friends, too.”
“Right. I mean, husbands are fine, but they can’t take the place of a good friend. Someone who knows you and accepts you and treats you like an equal.”
Mary turned on her side and looked at Cecily’s profile. “Don’t worry, Cec. You’ll make tons of new friends in your new town.”
“I don’t want tons of new friends,” Cecily spat petulantly, turning on her side toward Mary, “I want you.”
Mary lost her breath for a second. “Oh.”
Cecily groaned and slapped her hand down on the bed. “What am I gonna do without you, Mare? I see you every day. I’ll be miserable.”
“I know you have to leave,” Mary sobbed, “but I don’t know how I’m gonna let you go.” They met in the middle of the bed, crying into each other’s shoulders as they hugged tightly, like they were never letting go.
Cecily pulled back to look into her friend’s eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me. I’ll always be your friend, Cecily.” Mary wiped the tears from Cecily’s face, but they just kept coming. “I’ll always be yours.”
Cecily grabbed Mary’s hand and pressed it to her lips. “Mine?”
“Yours.” Mary slipped her fingers through Cecily’s hair, bringing her closer. “I’m yours.” Though Mary had fantasized many times about kissing her best friend, it was Cecily who closed the space between them, pressing their mouths together in an act of passion and desperation.
They stayed like that, arms tight and shaking around backs, kissing without tasting, inhaling without breathing. Finally Cecily pulled away and rolled onto her back.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she whispered, near tears again. She held her free hand to her mouth, and Mary eyed the fingers as they covered the soft flesh that she’d just kissed. Wanted to kiss again.
“Cecily. Cec.”
“Forgive me, Mary.
” Cecily looked away, offering Mary a view of the large throbbing vein down the side of her neck. Mary suddenly felt the urge to lick it, bite it, like a vampire in those pulp novels they used to sneak and read as teenagers. She’d drink Cecily down, every last drop of her, flesh and blood, until she’d possessed her entirely, and Cliff couldn’t take her away.
“Cecily, are you okay?”
“No,” Cecily sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Be with you…for just one night. One night isn’t enough, Mary.”
“You want to?” Mary whispered, barely recognizing her own voice. She figured Cecily would have to think about it for a while, like she’d been thinking about it—this night—ever since they found out they would be parted. Longer than that, if she was honest with herself. She knew Cecily was thinking about all the time alone they’d spent in friendly embraces, touching each other’s hair and faces for no particular reason. She hoped Cecily had treasured those sweet, delicious moments as much as she had, that the arm-in-arm walks in the neighborhood and extended good-bye hugs had made Cecily’s heart race like they did hers. Her eyes asked the question again, and she braced herself awaiting the reply.
Cecily let out a long breath, wiped her eyes and nodded. “Please, yes.”
The come-hither smile on Cecily’s face melted any reserve on Mary’s part. She didn’t even notice herself moving, and then Cecily was turning quickly and they were kissing again. This time it was only chaste for a few seconds, until Cecily opened up enough for Mary to feel the fullness of Cecily’s lower lip between hers. Mary sucked just a little, and then Cecily squeaked in her throat, and Mary sucked a little more.
“Mare.” There was a gravelly texture in Cecily’s voice that Mary had never heard before. It was so unlike her, and Mary wondered briefly if this was what her friend sounded like in bed with Cliff. Mary pulled back and stared at Cecily’s wide eyes and open mouth for a second. She held her breath—Cecily did, too—as she released Cecily’s hair from its bun and pushed it away from her face.