The next morning Ted was out of the house before I got up. This didn't bother me. However, Sally's absence was something else.
"Don," I called into her brother's bedroom, "do you know where your sister is?"
"Mmmmwwwpppfff," he murmured sleepily into his pillow.
"I don't think she came home from her date," I said more to myself than to my drowsy son. "Maybe I'd better call Trudy's to see if she spent the night there."
But before I could reach, the phone, it rang. When I answered it, it was Diane Cooper, Trudy's mother.
We both asked if the other knew where her daughter was simultaneously. Finally, when we got our signals uncrossed, we realized that the girls were missing.
"Who were they with?" I asked.
"A couple of basketball players."
"You didn't get their names?" I blurted incredulously.
"You know how it is," she responded defensively. "Those boys-they come and go like the house had i revolving door. Who can keep track of them all. I figured if they were basketball players, they must be all right."
I allowed myself to cool off before I spoke again. I was angry as hell at Diane Cooper, but I realized that showing it wouldn't bring my daughter home safely.
"Well, what do we do now?" I finally calmed down enough to say. Under the circumstances I thought it was a pretty rational response.
"Why don't you come over here," Diane suggested. "Two heads are better than one. We can decide what to do. Maybe there's something in Trudy's diary that'll tell who these boys are."
I couldn't think of anything better, so I said rd be over as soon as I could. Not that I approved of snooping in people's diaries-but this was an emergency.
The Coopers lived in the same suburb as we did, so I got over then quickly. Diane was waiting for me on her front porch in her bathrobe, obviously a wreck from worry.
"God, I'm glad you're here, Betty," she sighed as I came up the walk. "I feel so terrible about letting this happen. I know I should have checked on those boys.
I couldn't let her go to pieces on me, so I reassured her that it was a mistake anyone could've made, even though I felt much differently inside.
In her house, we went to the kitchen where Diane poured us some coffee. "Excuse me," she said, reaching up to the pantry and getting a bottle, "but I'm spiking mine with a shot of whiskey. My nerves are killing me and even Valium doesn't seem to work."
She was so self-conscious about her weakness that I felt obligated to provide her with the company which misery craves. "Give me a hit of that too, Diane," I said resignedly. "I'm not exactly 100% either."
We drank silently. Even though I had asked for it only to be polite, the whiskey had a calming effect on me. Drinking it wasn't such a bad idea after alt Several ounces of alcohol this early in the day on an empty stomach changed my worrisome perspective to a significant degree.
Diane's demeanor was even more changed. After gulping down the spiked coffee, she became positively giddy.
Clumsy, too. Stumbling forward after tripping over her own feet, she landed in my arms. Holding her for a second until she got her balance, I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't wearing anything under her robe.
"Are you all right, Diane?" I asked, as I released her.
"The booze went to my head, I guess," she giggled. "Sorry I ran into you."
"It's all right."
Then there was a pause. Obviously the incident was not closed for her.
"Is there something wrong, Diane?" I nervously broke the silence.
"You looked down my robe, didn't you?" she practically floored me.
"I beg your pardon."
"You were checking out my tits. Trying to see if they match what you see in my clothes. Trying to figure out if Diane Cooper wears falsies."
"Diane," I said sternly, "do you really think this is appropriate? After all, I'm over here because our daughters are missing. Certainly not-not to
"Look at my tits?" she asked accusingly.
"Certainly not."
"Then why did you look down my robe, Betty? I saw you doing it."
"You're mistaken. If I did, it was an accident."
"If you want to see them so bad, go ahead and take a good look. I have nothing to hide."
She ripped her robe open. Suddenly I was looking at her bare breasts.
"Now do you think I need falsies?"
In spite of my better judgment, I felt forced into evaluating Diane's tits. It was true they were on the smallish side, however they were perfectly formed. And her nipples were blood-red, sticking out at least an inch apiece.
"They're beautiful."
"But you're still not satisfied, are you?" she charged. Obviously Diane was one of these people who becomes belligerent when they've been drinking.
"This is insane," I protested. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Now that you've checked out my tits," she continued with her shrill defensiveness, "you're wondering about my pussy. Wondering if I've got something to hide down there."
"It-it's the last thing I have on my mind."
However, to be honest with myself, I was lying. Her provocative behavior did have me curious.
Diane undid the sash and opened her robe all the way. My eyes automatically trained themselves between her legs. Her cunt immediately hypnotized me.
"Me you surprised I shave it?" Diane asked.
"Well, uh, yes. Yes, I am," I admitted. "I-I've heard of that, but I've never actually seen one."
"You have now," she replied, walking toward me. "Want to touch it, Betty?"
I didn't know how to respond. Diane's cunt was a source of fascination to be sure, but how could I bring myself to touch another woman's cunt? It just didn't seem right.
Sensing my reluctance, she grabbed my wrist and thrust my hand to her crotch. All of a sudden I was running my fingers over pussy flesh whether I wanted to or not.
When I withdrew my hand, my fingers were wet. Diane's cunt was sopping,
"Sticky, huh?" she leered. "I'll bet you're wondering what it's like inside. What it tastes like."
I was struck dumb. This situation had developed beyond my capacity to react intelligently.
"How would you like to eat it?" Diane crooned. "Have you ever eaten another woman's pussy, Betty?"
I shook my head, indicating I hadn't.
"It tastes good. My sister, Gloria, and I have been eating each other, out since we were little girls," Diane revealed. "Even though she lives in Ohio now, we still get together a couple of times a year. But, in between those times, I get hungry for a little lesbian action-like now!"
What should I do, I thought. This was not why I'd come over here. Diane and I were supposed to be figuring out the whereabouts of our missing daughters.
And yet I found myself uncontrollably drawn to Diane. To her naked body that seductively undulated before me now.
And especially to her cunt. That shaved patch of glistening pink softness that beckoned me to drop down on my knees and suck it.
Yes, I had to admit it to myself, I wanted to find out about her pussy.
"Come on, Betty," Diane hissed, "you want to eat me out, and you know it."
She put her hands on my shoulders and forced me down. I didn't resist. All of a sudden I was kneeling and looking straight between her spread legs. I could see the pink flanges of her dangling pussy lips dripping with dew.
Now her fingers laced at the rear of my head and forced my face forward. My lips squashed against her crotch and I was instantaneously intoxicated with her randy scent and flavor.
"Your tongue," she said from above. "Stick your tongue in my pussy, Betty."
I didn't hesitate. Snapping from my mouth as though it were being pulled by wires, my tongue directed itself to Diane's creamy slit and plunged inside. Mmmmmm, it was so warm and soft in there.
"Make it hard, Betty," Diane instructed. "Make your tongue hard in my cunt."
I followed orders without hesitation, turning my tongue into a spear.
"Now push. Push in my cunt as far as you can.
I would have done it without her telling me. Quite frankly, it was the only logical thing to do.
As well as to work it around-which Diane also told me to do at the same time I figured it out for myself. It was occurring to me that one woman's tongue was made to plumb the depths of another woman s pussy.
I was catching on so well to lesbian lovemaking that Diane was able to cease her instructions.. In fact, before long, I had assumed the role of the aggressor. Placing my hands on Diane's hips, I forced her down to the floor, pinning her down with my mouth when she settled on her back.
Harder and harder I tongue-fucked her. I was certain that what I was tasting was the inside of her womb. The flavor was intoxicating. I was drunk with desire.
However, the more I got, the more I wanted. When I realized that my tongue had penetrated as far as it could go, I knew we had to up the ante.
Swinging my body around a full circle, I straddled my thighs against Diane's face, swiveling my tongue in her twat in the process. She was looking at the saturated crotch of my panties now, and I mentally begged her to rip them away so she could get to my own pussy and start orally fucking it.
Her fingers snaked under the elastic and grabbed the soggy panel. Then, with a vigorous yank, she ripped the fabric away. Now my hairy slit was gaping in her face. "Oooooh," she moaned, "I want to eat you so bad. I've been dreaming about it ever since we met at that PTA meeting." Just minutes before I would have been shocked to learn that I was the object of such perverse desire. Now, however, I was thrilled. It suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world to have another woman lust after my pussy. My loins came crashing down against Diane's face. With a muffled cry she signaled that my cunt had sealed her mouth. We were sixty-nining as only two women can. Her tongue immediately rigidified and rocketed into my fuck-hole. The raspy tip knew instinctively where to go, stimulating the most sensitive points. I began coming as though I were on fire. 'We started to roll, twisting over the kitchen floor. Suddenly Diane was on top, then I had recaptured the dominant position. By the time we were stopped by the kitchen cabinets we had compromised and were side-by-side. Best of all, our orgasms were shared. When Diane came, it was impossible to separate her climax from mine, and vice-versa. It was heaven in a suburban kitchen. We went on like this, trapped against the cabinets, for at least a quarter of an hour. Fifteen solid minutes of ceaseless coming. It hardly even seemed as though we took the time to breath. Under the extraordinary circumstances, how inadequate men seemed.
Each female orgasm serves to open the door for the following one, every climax superior to its predecessor. There's none of this aggravating stop-and-start business you get while making it with a guy. Unlike the finite male organ, the cunt is constructed to operate at full capacity indefinitely.
When one woman is making love to another, there's no worry about your partner losing her potency, as there is with a man. There is no dick to keep hard; a cunt is always wet and ready to go.
"Do you want to try something else, darling?" Diane lifted her mouth from between my legs and asked.
"What did you have in mind?" I coyly responded.
"How would you like to be fucked? Fucked by another woman?"
"I'd love it. But is it possible?"
"Anything is possible," she leered, and sprang to her feet.
She went, of all places, to the refrigerator. From there she extracted a long, thick piece of some kind of sausage.
"Chorizo," she said, dangling its foot-long expanse from between her thumb and index finger. "It's a Mexican delicacy. Exceptionally hot."
"Show me how it works," I giggled, as I flopped over on my back and spread my legs until my knee-caps were brushing against my ear lobes.
"Very, very simple," she smiled. "I just take one end like this-"
She shoved it between her labia and several inches up her twat.
"Then I flex my pussy muscles-"
Her slit became a vise. Reacting to the pressure, the free end of the Chorizo shot up into the air just like an erection.
"Then I crawl between your legs and fuck the shit out of you, my darling."
"Oh, God, I love it!" I cried; bracing myself for her descent.
Abruptly she was on top of me, covering me with her beautiful naked body like an umbrella. I did the honors of guiding the make-shift phallus, winding my fingers around its meaty girth and pulling it to the entrance of my spasming love-hole.
It was a toss-up whether Diane pushed it in or I pulled it in. But who cares? Just so long as she was fucking me.
I wrapped my legs around her, but in a special way. Rather than merely encircling Diane's waist, I raised my limbs until the calves were resting on her shoulders, and then locked my ankles around her neck. This position provided penetration that was unbelievable.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I screamed.
And then, when Diane screamed it back, I realized that with our curious arrangement I was screwing her as much as she was screwing me. Only two women could bring something off as ingenious as this.
Deeper and deeper we plunged into one another's spasming pit. The Chorizo was like an electrical cable, transmitting the voltage of our orgasms back and forth between us.
Eventually our passion became too much for the Chorizo, The heat in our cunts made it start to dissolve. The skin ruptured and suddenly we were inundated with Mexican meat. It: was greasy and spicy-thoroughly wonderful,
The runaway sausage stuffing was like cum, flooding our interiors with its gruel. It was cooking within us, sending off the most fantastic vapors. This was fucking at its best.
We stopped only when there was, no more meat to be dissolved. There was nothing to connect us any longer because our cunts had chopped up every morsel. Sated with lesbian love at last, we kissed, arose and wiped each other off.
I had learned something about myself this morning that I would never forget. Betty Lawrence was capable of going both ways.
Such a revelation about myself would, have made me break out in a cold sweat before Diane had forced me to see the light. Now it made my heart sing.
The secret life I had chosen for myself had incorporated an entirely new and unexpected facet. Discovering bisexuality was like winning the Irish Sweepstakes.