Marge sat silently on the edge of the sofa, flying to find the words that would make Jenny feel better. She searched desperately, racking her brain, looking for some magical phrase that would make everything seem all right, but it just would not come.
"Shit Jenny, I wish I knew what to tell you, but I don't."
Marge picked up her glass, and downed the contents of her second drink in one long swallow.
What the hell, she figured, if I can't help her at least I can join her. She got up, and stepped around her friend's cross-legged, sobbing body, weaving her way unsteadily to the bar.
"You want another drink, Jenny?"
"No… it's not any good. I… I can't…" But her attempt to talk only brought an another wave of tears.
Marge fixed herself another drink, and came around, perching herself on one of the tall barstools, waiting for her friend's spasm to subside. She sat quietly, enduring her friend's misery as long as she could before she finally spoke.
"Oh God honey, relax… please! I mean, you don't really know for sure that Tom is cheating on you. I'll admit it looks shaky, but one pair of strange panties, and a head full of suspicion doesn't really constitute evidence… does it?"
"Dammit, Marge! I don't need evidence. I don't need proof. I can feel it! He's not sleeping with me, he must be sleeping with somebody. I'm telling you… I can feel it… I'm as sure as if I'd watched him do it."
Marge felt helpless again. She could not help being swayed by Jenny's arguments. She had laid her suspicions out drunkenly, but accurately, and her overwhelming sureness made the whole idea hard to deny.
"Okay, Jenny… okay! So maybe he's had one affair, or maybe two… So what?"
"So what!"
"Yes! So what!" What the hell. She could afford to be brave. It wasn't her husband.
Jenny was amazed. She looked her bloodshot eyes on her mother's face, scanning for some hint that she was just kidding. "Damnit, Marge! I just can't believe how casually you're taking all this."
"I don't have any choice," she smiled, hoping to cheer Jenny up. "Someone's got to keep you from falling apart."
"You astound me," she squeaked, managing a small smile of her own. "Our husbands are having affairs and you can sit there playing Mother Courage… unbelievable!"
The smile suddenly faded from Marge's lips. "What do you mean, OUR husbands?"
"Just what I said." Jenny now recognized her friend's look as shock. "I'll be damned. You mean you… oh Marge! How can you be so psychic one minute, and so utterly dense the next? If Tom is running out of town to carry on, what the hell is Roger doing with him? I don't think it's in case they need a fourth for bridge!"
Marge's blood turned to ice water. This was the one thought she had never allowed herself to think. Oh, it had rolled around her brain once or twice, but she would never give it credence. And now, here it was, staring her in the face.
"NO! No, Jenny! It's… they can't… there's got to be some other reason. business… it's just business."
She mumbled on, trying to convince herself, but it just would not hold water. She had bought it now that Roger was involved. It answered too many questions, explained too many things. She was finally forced to openly accept the blunt, painful reality of her marriage.
"Damnit!" Marge choked back the tears that were now so ready to come pouring out. "Oh… Goddamn those bastards!"
Her friend was less able to control it. "Marge, I'm sorry. I thought you… oh God… I'm so… sorry!" And the flood began, streaming down the well-worn path of her mascara.
But Marge was no longer uncomfortable with her friend's crying. In fact she was grateful. It gave her something besides herself to concentrate on. Finding the strength to console Jenny was far easier than dealing with the pain that now gnawed at her stomach.
She slipped off the barstool, and walked over to Jenny, kneeling compassionately in front of her sobbing body. "I think we could both use a good hug," she sighed, and pulled her up to her knee. Quickly her arms went out, enveloping the girl in a warm, firm, soothing hug.
The two women remained that way for some time. Marge held tightly, stroking her hair, absorbing each jerk of her crying body until the storm finally passed. Once Jenny had stifled herself, Marge broke the embrace, and leaned back to stare at her friend.
The sight of her friend's streaked and puffy face filled her with pity. Impulsively she leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, infusing it with all her love and friendship. But something suddenly clicked in Jenny. She returned the kiss much more ardently, her arms coming back up to circle Marge's neck.
Slowly her tongue crept out. She wormed it gently between the other woman's lips, and into her warm mouth. It began moving rapidly, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.
Marge was stunned. Instinctively she pulled back, but her friend's tight gasp would offer her no retreat. She relented momentarily, wondering what to do before she finally succeeded in turning her face to the side, breaking the deep, warmly passionate kiss.
"Look, Jenny, maybe I'd better go."
"NO! Oh God, Marge, stay… I need you… you're the only one who still loves me! Please,stay!"
Desperately, Jenny recaptured Marge's mouth, her tongue shooting back out to reclaim her friend's devotion. But, this time she was more prepared. She accepted the fleshy intruder, tasting it, feeling its moist warmth as it circled slowly in her mouth. Slowly, she gave in to this strange, new closeness that was rising between them.
Sensing her acceptance, Jenny moved in closer. As she did, her thigh moved up between the firm white columns of Marge's legs, and pressed eagerly against the soft mound of her cunt. Marge could fret the muscled limb bearing down, even through her clothing, and gasped as she felt a sudden, leaping thrill sensation surge warmly through her loins.
Jenny was unconscious of her friend's feelings. She was by now totally lost in the grip of her own needs – needs brought on by years of neglect and frustration.
Her tongue was working fiercely at Marge's mouth, and her hands were stroking the gentle angles of her friend's beautiful face. Slowly they lowered, drifting down across her sinewy neck, sloping out around her white, rounded shoulders, and finally sinking to caress the fullness of her gently heaving tit.
And now Marge was frightened. Jenny's avidly running fingers were sending tiny thrills of pleasure through her, and it scared her. She could feel her pink nipples jumping to erect hardness as Jenny fondled the tit through the thin baffler of her clothing. She reached down and pulled the woman's hand away, at the same time withdrawing from the burning contact of her grinding thigh. She had to get out. She had to escape the trembling, heightened sensations that were racing through her.
"Jenny, please. I've got to go." She struggled to her feet, but the alcohol was now making her dizzy, and the sudden tremblings of her passions left her legs shaky. For one second she weaved unsteadily, barely able to support her own weight.
Instantly, Jenny's arms were around her, supporting her, holding her. "No, Marge, stay! Please don't leave. I need you. I need to be held and touched and felt by someone who means it. Please, touch me… touch me!"
"Jenny! We can't. It's… unnatural… it's… it's…" But she could not finish. Staring into her friend's pleading face, she was suddenly filled with the same hungry desire, the same craving need to be touched by another human being.
Grabbing her face, she bent down and kissed her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. Slowly she dropped to the floor. Jenny now clamped her body to Marge's, crushing their breasts together, her lips and tongue returning to the haven of her mouth.
They met sensuously in a gentle, undemanding kiss that crumbled the final vestiges of Marge's fearful resistance. Gradually she relaxed against her friend's body, her arms coming around to cradle Jenny's frame. Marge's tongue flew out to circle the moist circumference of her hot mouth, opening the doors of their fiery passion.
Jenny's hands raced across the blonde's beautifully curved body, caressing and fondling the firm flesh until she found the swaying, heaving globes of her tits. She cupped the mounds tenderly, rolling the delicate pink nipples into spiky attention.
Marge gasped at the electric touch of Jenny's hand. She was dazed by the unfamiliar feel of loving hands molding the full contours of her tits, and it drove her crazy. Finally she was there. No longer doubting, no longer accepting, but wanting, needing. She craved Jenny as fully as she could ever crave any man.
Surrendering to the full range of her passions, she now reached up and untied her blouse, throwing the intruding garment as far from her as she could. Jenny's hands clawed lovingly at the bare mounds, her fingers tearing at each tit nipple in lusting frenzy.
"Ooooooohhh! God, Jenny," she moaned. "God it's so good to be touched… to be wanted."
"Yes! You feel so good, so warm and loving and good… your tits are so soft and big… I want to touch them… and kiss them! Oh Marge, can I kiss them?"
"Yes, yes! Please, kiss them."
Quickly Jenny's mouth went down and surrounded the straining nipple of her left breast. She sucked with all her force, her cheeks collapsing with the strength of her suction. Marge almost screamed with joy as she felt the bulk of her fiery tit enter the hot, wet orifice.
"Shit! Suck it, suck my tit… milk me until I'm dry!"
Jenny continued her blissful manipulations, jumping from one tit to the other, showering each aching boob with the attentions of her maddening passion. Her mouth would alternate, first pressing her glistening tongue and rolling it across her swollen nipples, then sucking again, moving the quivering bud in and out of her mouth in a steady maddening rhythm.
Marge was groaning audibly, responding to the intensely erotic feeling that were being generated by every one of her friend's wanton caresses. She was consumed with the desire to touch Jenny's bare flesh, and tore at the zipper of her dress. The cloth parted before her, and she ran her hands frantically across the woman's bare, exposed back.
Slowly her hands worked around, delighting in the smooth texture of her friend's feminine feel. She could hear Jenny's breath catch in her throat as her hand brushed the small knob of her tit.
Jenny's tits were smaller than Marge's, but firm and proud nonetheless. Marge's hands came up and cupped the resilient mounds, marveling at their velvety texture. The pointy, outstretched nipples burned into her palms as she crushed the dangling balls of flesh in her loving bands.
"OH, Marge," she cried. "It's been so long since I've been held… touched… since I've felt… Let's undress, please! I want to feel you touching me all over."
Quicker than Marge thought possible, the young girl was up and had stripped off all her clothing, pausing for only an instant to stroke her own tingling flesh while she waited for Marge to catch up.
She could not help staring at Jenny's lovely, naked body. It was smaller in all respects than hers. Physically and emotionally she was the same, small and frail. She was slender, but not bony. The tight roundness of her muscles gave her a fleshy fullness, and her face was a baby-doll beacon of beauty that shone from beneath her rich auburn hair.
Marge was frozen in her gaze, dizzy with the lusting study of her friend's body, but Jenny's need proved greater than Marge's pace. Quickly she pulled the remaining garment from the blonde's outstretched legs, and tossing it aside, threw herself down on Marge's gleaming torso.
Marge jolted with the passion of this woman, more excited, more hungry than her husband had ever been. Jenny buried her thigh in the soft vee of Marge's cunt, her taut, knotted muscles grinding against the hot, soaking patch. Marge responded, driving her own thigh into her friend's clasping pussy, and thrilled as the hot juices trickled down her sweaty flesh.
Now their eager mouths were welded together in another deep, throat-tilling kiss while their hands flowed ceaselessly across their bodies. The glorious feel of flesh, and the burning friction of their grinding loins, fanned the flames of their desires into uncontrollable fires of sensuality.
The sweat-covered bodies slid against each other, emitting frequent claps of suction as their bellies pounded together in full, grinding thrusts. Their tits pressed together, the tiny nipples melting together into two tiny points of erotic bliss.
"Aaaaahhhh! Goddamn!" Marge was screaming now. Each of Jenny's thrusts was battering her aching clit. "God, Jenny… I can't believe it… I think I'm going to come! It's so fucking good! Your cunt… mouth…everything feels so fucking wonderful!"
The words only served to increase the frantic actions of her friend. "I want you to come. Please, Marge, come! I want to make you come like you've never come before… I want to fuck you so good that well never fuck our fucking husbands again."
Obediently Marge abandoned the actions of her own thigh, and spread her legs wide. Jenny moved up, digging the narrower part of her leg into Marge's screaming twat. Her cunt-lips parted, clutching voraciously at the leg, her clitoris crying out its grateful abuse. Her hand shot out, clawing feverishly at Jenny's bucking as. Her nails dug into the firm, cushiony mounds as her body trembled from the rhythmic grinding.
"Oh Jenny, I'm almost there. I can feel it coming, and I want you to come with me! I want your beautiful cunt to explode with mine."
Frantically her fingers dropped down to the crack of Jenny's ass. Carefully she moistened the tips in the soaking gash before curling her fingers around the shivering bud of her clitoris.
She began rubbing the tiny button, fingering it with all the respect and instinct that only another woman could possess. Her actions sent a jarring shock of pleasure racing through her friend's ramming body, and stirred her into even more frantic lunges with her hips.
Jenny was screaming in pure delight. "Yyyeeeeeess! Oh God yes, it's coming! I don't believe it, but it's coming! Push it harder… pull my clit till I blow!"
The two bodies bucked and heaved frantically on the soft carpet, each one struggling to bring the other off first. Marge plunged and pulled at the tiny button as Jenny banged her leg into the furry, blond patch of Marge's cunt.
On and on they churned, the loud groans of their mingled passions threatening to explode the walls of the house, their love-starved bodies thrashing in unbridled ecstasy.
And then it came.
Their bodies held still, frozen for one-billionth of a second in arched anticipation. Once upon them, they burst into uncontrolled convulsions of groaning, agonizing pleasure, seizing them both in its mindless ecstasy.
The juices spilled from their contracting cunts in rich, prolonged spasms that seemed to pull the very life from them. Having spent its fury, the climax then eased off, drifting away to leave the two twisted, huddled bodies weak and tired from their mind-blowing ride.
For a long time the two women remained still on the floor, Jenny huddled closely in Marge's arms. She lay there, the thoughts sailed through Marge's mind. I don't believe I'm sitting here holding another woman, a woman I've had sex with, and enjoying it. God, has it come to this?
Marge finally stirred. "I'm sorry honey," she said, kissing Jenny gently on the cheek. "I've really got to get home. Laura's leaving for a week, and I want to spend some time with her before she goes." Marge rose and began dressing.
Jenny watched her for several minutes, uncertain of whether or not to speak. "Marge… can we… can we do this again?"
Marge paused a long time before answering. She knew she was supposed to feel guilty, or repulsed, or at least unwilling, but none of these emotions would surface. All she could feel was satisfied, and grateful for such an open expression of love.
"I don't know, honey. We'll see."
Jenny was encouraged by her partially receptive manner. "Oh, Marge, I want this to happen again. I need to feel wanted. I need to feel someone desires me."
"Believe me, I understand."
"I mean… I'm not a lesbian or… I'd take another man if I could… but I don't have the courage, and I don't think you do either."
Marge wondered for a second if she did. "I know Jenny, I know."
"So… all we've got is each other, and I promise you, no one will ever know. Please, Marge… please… say you will!"
"I've got to think, Jenny. We'll see." Marge walked over and kissed Jenny gently on the lips. "I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay."