Did a kiss to the neck count as lesbian? She hadn't tried kissing her mouth. Was a kiss to the neck any different than a kiss to the cheek? Am I worrying over nothing?
Bill ravaged her pussy Saturday night, teasing her with the bullet and telling her the nasty things he would want to see. She went with it, asking why he wanted to see some guy's cock in her. The thought made her clench up, but his words about how sexy she was affirmed Lynne's comment that he worshiped her. She had cum on his fingers while he whispered about her taking a cock deep.
He had pounded her pussy after, sending her senseless into a state of bliss.
Sunday morning's shower and coffee offered her a time of reflection. Lynne had been right. Not only had talking resolved what Beth thought was the end, but she found she actually had fun listening to her husband get excited over his fantasy.
Kinky.
She sipped her coffee, missing the cinna-cocoa from the Coffee Kitchen. Just as her friend had suggested, Bill had opened up, admitting his love for her and his desire. He wasn't tired of her. He wasn't wanting to replace her. Beth still couldn't wrap her mind around the idea that seeing your lover with someone else was super sexy, but apparently Bill thought so.
Were Lynne's kisses just encouragement?
Bill came into the kitchen, freshly showered, and leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips.
She panicked for a brief second, not wanting to imagine kissing Lynne, but found herself tilting her head in curiosity. No, even that peck was definitely different than her neck-kisses.
She got up and went about making Sunday morning oatmeal with raisins.
~ ~ ~
Monday brought with it a curiosity that itched. Is my friend gay? Or is it that only guys are gay, and women are lesbians? I need to know.
Her lunch hour provided her the opportunity.
Walking into the Coffee Kitchen felt as if it were a new adventure, rife with unknowns that threatened her sense of sanity. How easily I've moved beyond my husband's odd fantasy. How quickly disaster turned to some bedroom delight… But now, what is this new threat? Something more ominous? Will this be the end of our friendship?
She barely murmured acknowledgment of Candi's welcome. She didn't order coffee.
Lynne's voice was perky from the extra bedroom-turned-storage area. "Hey, girl."
Beth leaned into the doorway. Boxes and supplies were neatly stacked around the walls and on shelves placed in the middle of the room. Dimly lit from one overhead bulb, she always felt as if this were the haunted room of the old house and she shivered against the door jamb. "Hi."
Her friend came out, clipboard in hand, and led them into her office. "How was your weekend? You seem a little quiet."
Memories of Bill's excitement and passion pushed a smile across her lips. "Pretty good, I guess."
Lynne sat next to her. "Just pretty good? Why the long face, then?"
Faced with the edge of eternity, the seconds stretched in silence. She shrugged her shoulders, needing to continue the conversation to ultimately find out if her friend was gay, but not wanting to. Forcing the words out of her mouth was more difficult than she had imagined in the planning of her thoughts. "I guess I'm still a little tense over it all…"
Her friend smiled warmly and moved to begin massaging Beth's shoulders. "You seemed happier last week." Her voice dropped low. "Did he say something new?" She glanced at the door.
Beth took a ragged breath. "Not really, but he seems really happy to be talking about it."
Her friend removed her hands. She stepped over and shut the door.
Beth felt as if she were being shut in against her better judgment. Why do I feel like she's going to involve me in something illegal?
Lynne stood behind her and began massaging again. "Did you have fun?"
"Yes."
Her friend let out a satisfied giggle. "Told you. It wasn't the end of the world."
You're right, it wasn't, but what about you? Are you gay? "I'm still repulsed by the idea—"
Lynne's hands came down her breast-bone, sliding downwards. Her whisper was close to Beth's ear. "But you're having fun. What's wrong with that?"
Shivers tingled along her limbs and she felt as if frozen – paralyzed with a pulsing uncertainty that left her mouth agape.
Lynne kissed her neck, sending more shivers and paralysis over her body. "If your husband wants you to do it, why don't you?"
Huh? Expecting something else, Beth blinked. Assuming Lynne would use the massaging as an opportunity for something lesbian, she did not expect any discussion along the lines of her husband's odd fantasy.
Her friends hands slipped down and touched her thighs.
Uh oh, she going to touch me again…why am I not stopping her? Isn't this proof? Beth's breathing accelerated and her chest heaved with the effort of breathing.
Her friend added even more confusion to the calamitous thoughts rushing to and fro in Beth's head. Her head pounded with her racing pulse, causing a numbing buzz in her ears. Lynne's hands dipped between her thighs and pulled up. Her whisper was suggestive. "Maybe you should do it."
Beth's lips trembled, her breath taut with anticipation. Lynne's fingers came up and began brushing Beth's panties.
"He wants you to and it might be fun."
What? I thought you were gay. You're trying to tell me…what? To engage his fantasy? Her friend's fingers began pressing and rubbing over her clit. The confusion kept her silent. The sensations radiating up from her clit kept her still, though her legs trembled as if she were perched high up on a mountain cliff.
"I have something to tell you…"
Yes, here it comes. You're lesbian. I already know.
A kiss touched her neck and her friend's fingers began a more thoroughly delightful exploration.
Why am I finding this exciting? She began panting.
The fingers came up higher, then slid down Beth's panties.
Oh yes, definitely gay. Rainbow colored alarms flashed in her head. Pink-bikinied men pranced about holding placards flamboyantly proclaiming their desire to be a woman for another man. Angry lesbians shouted derision at men. Her friend's fingers glided over her clit and found her slit. She felt her pussy opening to her friend's fingers and a fantastic feeling of shared intimacy surged up within her. But Beth was not prepared for what came next.
CHAPTER 7
Beth trembled in between lust and fear. So she's a lesbian, does that mean I am? Why does this feel so good? Her confusion was scattered by the bombshell whispered from her friend's lips.
Lynne kissed her way up to Beth's ear and whispered, "You know, my husband has talked about you…during sex."
What the fuck? You're not gay? Wait… "Whuh…?" Her friend's fingers probed deeper into her pussy, then withdrew. She came around and knelt in front of Beth. Dizzy with erotic emotions and cascading confusion, Beth stared dumbly.
Lynne moved Beth's panties aside and began massaging again.
She dropped her head back a little, breathing easier as the fingers slid deeper.
"Roger would love to have you." Three fingers pushed deep.
What? Roger? Oh, this feels so good. But, Roger? She had never thought of him that way. He was a handsome, younger guy and her friend's husband. Of course she had never thought of him that way. But he thinks of me like that? Why do I feel betrayed? Used without my knowledge? How dare he?
Lynne's fingers moved in and out, causing all kinds of amazing and paralyzing links of lust within Beth. Her friend said, "Are you thinking about him? Is he handsome enough for you?"
Overwhelmed by the sensational shivers racing up her spine, Beth said, "He…? He…"
Lynne looked up at her face. Her fingers slid in and out of Beth's pussy slowly. "He would love to have you. Is that so bad?"
She blinked several times. "But he's married to you." She closed her eyes, wanting Lynne to stop this obvious lesbian behavior, but finding instead a reason to enjoy what she was feeling just a little longer
"Isn't that better? Closer?"
Beth gasped as her ache tightened and turned – twisting into a promise she dreaded. I can't cum – that would make me gay, right? I can't. But this feels too good to stop, I think. Does Roger really think of me that way? "Roger?"
Lynne's giggle was seductive. "I've let him call me your name a few times."
A passionate panic shook her. "You've what?" But her words were breathy and at the edge of really deep sexual excitement. Why am I feeling this? I've never thought of Roger like that…
"Yep, was pretty hot. Have you ever thought of him…?"
Beth's voice was urgent. "No, never."
Her friend's fingers paused for only a brief second. "You don't think he's handsome?"
"Well, yes… Of course he is…" The sliding fingers were causing Beth all kinds of incoherent grief. She gasped, thinking of Roger calling her name. "He really called my name? You're not just joking…?"
"Girl, he's desperate to fuck you."
"But what about you?" You're gay so it doesn't matter?
"I think it would be so hot to see him with my best friend."
Somehow, her friend's words blunted the feeling of betrayal. This didn't seem to be some Roger-filth as Lynne was telling it, but something that had excited both of them.
Lynne worked a fourth finger in, stretching Beth's hole open. Her friend's hand worked in and out, deep and slow, causing more paralysis and passion.
Beth panted, then groaned.
Lynne whispered, "Would you like to feel his cock in here?"
An image of Roger's face above her and the sensation of what was being done to her pussy broke her acquiescence. Her thighs clamped shut and she scooted reflexively back. Her friend's fingers came out. "No, he's your husband. I can't…"
Lynne was smiling. "I can't wait to tell him I had my fingers up your—"
"No, don't!" Beth panted in panic. No one can know about this. It was just a test. I don't want to be a lesbian. "You can't."
Her friend arched an eyebrow. "Well… I hate keeping secrets from him—"
"Please don't." She arranged her skirt downward. She looked anywhere but at her friend's face. The crushing weight of shame and guilt pressed in on her – the passion gone.
"Well, I won't, but I want you to do something first."
"What? Anything."
"Go home and tell Bill tonight about Roger's fantasy."
She was stunned. Tell my husband your husband's secret? Isn't that a no-no? "You want me to tell…?"
"Tell him. Then come back tomorrow and tell me exactly what he said. If you don't, I'll take that as permission to tell Roger what happened here."
"Are you…threatening me?"
Her friend shook her head vigorously. Her hand came down on Beth's thigh gently. "Oh, girl, no. You mean too much to me to do something like that."
"Then why—"
She shook her head slower. "I can't keep secrets from my husband; that's just wrong. I won't do it."
"But you're going to tell him anyway?" She felt a cliff nearing and she was on the ice and sliding fast.
"Well, eventually… But I suppose it can wait a little bit. Just come back tomorrow and tell me what Bill said."
Telling my husband would be the easy part. But how could I ever face Roger knowing what I know now? And if he knew about what Lynne had done to me in her office? Why did I let her do that to me? Caught in a seemingly no-win situation, she said, "All right."
~ ~ ~
Beth held her husband's semi-hard cock in her hand. They were lying in bed before sleep and she had reached over to fumble at his bed-shorts.
His grin was gleeful in the light of the alarm clock. "What's gotten into you?"
"I don't know." How do I say this?
"We used to do things only on the weekends. Is it my fantasy getting you excited?"
She coughed. "No."
He actually slumped.
"Well, I mean, it's something about it."
He grunted. "Oh? Like what?"
She concentrated on stroking him to avoid looking into his searching eyes; if she did look him in the eyes, she would lose all her carefully composed confidence. "I've been talking to Lynne about all this…"
"Yeah, I know." He didn't sound very happy. "What exactly have you told her?"
No, I need to talk about Roger, not your fantasy. She sighed. "Well, sort of everything."
He slapped his hand to his face. The exasperation in his word was explosive with regret. "Why?"
Torn with torment over everything that had happened, developed, and needed to be said, she said, "I felt so lost."
"You could've talked to me."
"I guess I needed a woman's perspective."
He grunted.
"I thought she would agree with me that it was all so insane."
He snorted.
"You can thank her for helping me see that your thing didn't mean the end of us."
He blew out a sigh. "Yeah, maybe."
She kept stroking. "She's helped me have fun with it."
"Well, at least there's that. I'll send her a Christmas card."
"There's more."
He went silent, listening, his body tense.
"She told me that Roger has a fantasy…about me."
"Huh? Roger?" The incredulity in his voice satisfied her thinking.
"Yeah, totally crazy, huh?"
"Well, no, but…Roger?"
Beth giggled with uncertainty. "Yeah, weird."
"But he's younger. What's he doing looking at you?"
It was her turn to almost collapse on the bed. The crushing weight of her fears piled on heavily. "Thanks, no need to remind me I'm forty and too old for—"
"No, I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry; you're very sexy. I just thought he'd be looking at some blonde teenager or something."
"Well, she's a year older than him."
"He's thirty-five?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, thirty-eight."
"Huh. And he has a fantasy about you?"
Her hand stopped and started. "Yes." She felt his shaft begin to firm.
"No kidding?"
Are you insinuating I'm too old again? "Yes, no kidding."
"Did she say what kind of fantasy?"
"He wants to…um…"
"Wants to what?"
Why does this seem so hard to say? She stroked a little faster, trying to gather courage. "He wants to…do me."
Bill chuckled with pleasure. "Wow, Roger?"
She squeezed his hard shaft as if to threaten him. "Yes. I'm only two years older. But forty is so old—"
"Oh shut up. Like you said, it's only two years." He sighed and his cock flexed in her hand. "Roger: who would've thought?"
"Should we not be friends with them anymore?"
He jerked. "What? Hell no. I think they're great. I just never thought he'd have eyes for you. He always seemed so neutral."
"That what I thought. It's not like he's ever come on to me."
Bill's cock swelled. "Too bad, huh?"
"What? How can you say that? He's our friend."
"Oh shush. A little bit of teasing fun wouldn't have hurt anyone."
She sniffed and shook her head. Nothing, nowhere in their friendship to Lynne and Roger had ever hinted at such a thing. The idea just simply had never occurred to her that he might have some fantasy. But then, neither did she imagine her husband having the fantasy he did. Nor did she imagine Lynne having a dildo thing. She stroked slower, thinking about the secrets.
"How long has he had this thing for you?"
She was startled from her reveries. "Hmm? I don't know. But for a while now. Lynne said they've talked about me during sex a few times."
A flash of white told her he was smiling. "That's great."
She coughed. "You think so?"
His breathing was heavier. "Yeah." His hips moved, driving his shaft up and down in her hand. "So he imagines fucking you?"
She felt his cock swell in her hand. "Yes." She stroked faster. "Is that wrong of him?"
He didn't answer with words. His groan sounded as if he had just set down a heavy box. His cock flexed and began a series of powerful pulses.
She realized he was cumming. "Oh, my. That really turned you on?" She stroked slower, milking him.
He laughed, relieved. "Uh, yeah."
He really liked that? She had been looking for something like disapproval – the set of boundaries that limited these fantasies. Instead, he had confused her more.
CHAPTER 8
Lynne shut the door behind her. She came in a rush at Beth and gripped her arm as if hanging on. "So, what did he say?"
Coffee sloshed out of the two cups as she jerked in surprise. She held them out so as not to drip down her blouse and skirt. "Whoa, whoa, take it easy."
With a slight twist of her mouth in annoyance, Lynne took the cups and set them down.
Beth had bought them, hoping to use them as a shield against anything kinky her friend might have in mind. She let herself be gripped by the shoulders and lowered into the chair.
Lynne's head tilted as if to get a better look at Beth's eyes. "What did he say?"
With a heavy disappointment in all that had developed, she said, "He thought it was great."
Her friend's smile spread like a wave of wonder. "How wonderful."
She shook her head, trying to clear away the confusion, the anxiety and the feeling that she was heading into something wrong. "No, it's not wonderful—"
Her friend's hands rested on her knees, then slid up her thighs. "Of course it is—"
Beth clamped her thighs shut, determined not to engage in any more weird office activity.
Hands stopped, Lynne said, "Were you talking about it…during sex?"
She let out a sigh. "Yes."
An eyebrow and a knowing look crossed her friend's face. "Was he excited?"
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