"I could use another drink, Lonnie," Cylvia Oliss said. She glanced at the young wife, smiling cat-like to herself. I don't need one – and by the way she's having trouble keeping steady, she doesn't need another, either – but she's going to!
"No… no I better not," Lonnie said. Her head was spinning from the unaccustomed heavy dosage of alcohol which had been fed to her. Fed by her own hand and the alternate turns at mixing by her best friend. On an empty stomach, the liquor went straight to work, and she realized belatedly that she was on the verge of being drunk, not just euphorically high. She couldn't even remember whether the empty glass on the coffee table was the symbol of her fifth or sixth drink; worse, she really didn't care. She just knew that she had to slow down…
"What about going out for dinner now?" she asked.
Cylvia Oliss stood up, smoothing her short dress. She shrugged as the picked up her glass – and Lonnie's as well. "I'm not hungry yet, I'm afraid. I ready feel like having another short one – I'll make a weak one for your." She walked into the kitchen and again poured both vodka and scotch into Lonnie's glass, then a good dollop of ginger ale; the sparkling mix only made the liquor be absorbed faster. She looked at the scotch bottle and smirked. It had been a fresh bottle when the evening had started. Here it was nearly ten o'clock and there was less than an inch left in the bottom. She was feeling good, not tipsy or anything even close to drunk because she'd made sure that Lonnie Carmel had gotten the bulk of the bottle.
"I certainly hate it when Martin's away," she sighed, sitting down beside Lonnie. She was so close that her thigh rubbed against her friend's leg… the move was not accidental.
"I know what you mean," Lonnie moaned.
"Without… without Roger I feel positively barren."
"No sex?" the Oliss woman said lewdly, slyly grinning.
"No…!" The sudden question, with its salacious overtones, surprised Lonnie. How bold! What did her friend think she did, anyway? Fool around while her husband was away? "Why, why Cylvia!" she gasped, "I'm faithful to Roger!"
Cylvia chuckled. "I didn't mean it like that, though God knows you could have all the men you wanted." She appraised the young housewife with calculating eyes, openly admiring her lush figure. "Your breasts are much larger than mine, and your hips… well, I don't mind telling you I'm envious of you."
"Thank… you," Lonnie said, shaken by the overt praise, and a little unsure how to accept it. It must be the liquor talking in Cylvia, she thought. We've both had quite a lot. She blinked as she found herself frankly studying her friend, not as a friend or even as a person, but as a woman – a sexual object which could attract and please. She wondered what Cylvia would look like in the nude, what it would be like to be a man and kiss her, caress her breasts (which were as sensual a pair as she'd seen, and certainly a match in their own right for her fuller ones) until the nipples stood out hard, to make love to her…
In shock, she smiled embarrassingly as Cylvia caught her gaze, and drank nervously from her full drink. Cylvia leaned over her to get a cigarette from the cannister on the table, and her breast swung heavily against Lonnie's arm. The heady musk of her perfume filled her nostrils, and with deliberate provocation Cylvia straightened and searched for a match in her purse with a sensuous motion of the hips and legs. Her skirt rose a little higher…
"No, I think that you could find lots of males, and nicely endowed ones, too; with lots of money, good looks and long hard cocks."
"Cylvia-!" came a horrified choke at her sudden use of the lewd word.
"Don't be shy. It's just hen-talk between us girls." Cylvia winked at Lonnie. "Haven't you ever wanted to say a few dirty words? Let your hair don and use them the way a man does?"
Lonnie hesitated, embarrassed but at the same time fuddled by the vodka and scotch enough so that it all seemed sort of innocently daring. A private game between the two of them which couldn't hurt.
"Say a dirty word," Cylvia wheedled. "Say something like cock."
"C-cock," Lonnie found herself repeating. She blushed madly.
"Something else. Go on."
"Screw…" Lonnie shivered at the use of the vulgarisms. It was exciting and perverted, and tinged with excitement. She felt a small surge of pleasure in her abdomen, and a little lower in her vagina. She giggled slightly, and averted her eyes. "Screw," she said louder.
"Screw," Cylvia said disparagingly. "What kind of dirty word is that? Screw! What does Roger do when he wants to empty his cock and balls into your cunt, Lonnie? Tell me the real word for what he does to you."
"He… fucks me," she stammered.
"Where?" The question came out with a gasp, as if the words were exciting the Oliss wife… which they were, but her reaction only helped feed the rising thrill in Lonnie Carmel's loins. Cylvia licked her lips, her pink tongue circling them and leaving them glistening. "Where does Roger fuck you?"
"In… in…" she wasn't sure if she could say it! But then she felt like such an innocent, such a prude in front of her friend. Cylvia was enjoying it, and in honesty, she had to admit she was as well… and she trusted her friend, trusted her as only one true confident can trust another. It wasn't as if she was on stage, addressing an audience. She could be free with Cylvia… and more important, with Martin and Roger gone and only the two of them together now, she wanted to be free with her. She was drawn closer to her friend by the circumstances, and the bond tightened another notch as she said haltingly: "Roger… fucks me… in the… cunt! In my cunt!"
"Sure he does," Cylvia said. "Just like Martin fucks me in my cunt." She leaned back in her seat and stretched out her legs and to Lonnie's amazement, began to rub her thighs and belly with the palms of her hands. She stroked all around her genital area, moaning slightly as if in heat. "Ohhhhh, Lonnie, sometimes when Martin's not around, I nearly go out of my mind wanting a cock in me. My cunt gets so hot, that I think it'll burn a hole in my panties." She grinned lewdly at the lovely wife. "Sometimes," she whispered as if it was a guilty secret, "I even walk around without my panties. Without anything, just so the cool air will calm the fire in my pussy down."
"You… do?" Lonnie gulped her drink, the brazen confessions forging new and evil images on her brain. Cylvia… pantyless, going about the house naked between her legs… but why not?
Who's to know; who's to see? It… even sounded like fun! Lonnie's heart began to pound faster, and she blamed the alcohol for her broken barriers of propriety, and for the way Cylvia was confiding the most inner secrets about her private life and marital relations…
"And… I-do other things!" Cylvia said. She inched still closer, as if afraid the walls had ears. She put one arm around Lonnie's shoulder. "I have to… or I'd go mad."
Lonnie asked before she realized what she was saying, "What kind of things?"
Cylvia tried to blush – a harder task than she had had to do so far. "I'll… show you." She picked up her purse, a wide, straw basket with leather straps. "Martin once bought these books in Europe," she said, bringing out a set of pamphlets. They were about the size of a Reader's Digest, only about twelve pages in thickness. There were different colored paper covers on them, but all were entitled: Climax Illustrated, with different volume numbers on them. "We would sit in bed and look at the pictures and get hotter than hell. We'd be naked, you see, and I'd look at his cock get excited and grow straight up in the air. Then we'd make love; screw, to use your word. He'd fuck my toenails off, in my language."
Lonnie took one of the booklets, and said as she opened the cover, "But I don't understand." She was confused, dizzy from the liquor, upset by not having her husband here, tortured by the increasing tingles of prurience which was emanating stronger and stronger from her loins and breasts, and mentally distraught from the deepening lewdness of the conversation. She didn't understand anything – and when she opened the booklet and caught the first picture, she really didn't understand!
"Why! Why… this is obscene!" Her eyes bulged slightly at the salacious color picture. It was of two women, sitting on the couch, both beautiful young Scandinavians; they were in a state of undress, one having only a garter belt and stockings on, and the other in her panties and high boots. The one in the boots was kissing the hardened ruby-tipped nipple on the other's left breast. Lonnie and Cylvia sat in silence for a moment, as Lonnie took a deep swallow of her drink feeling some composure returning to her stomach.
"Turn the page, Lonnie. It gets better!"
"No…" But her mind couldn't control her fingers. The page turned, and she reeled under the pornographic display of both girls stretched out on the couch now, the panties around one ankle of the girl; they were facing one another, but in such a way that their mouths were kissing each other's vaginas, their fingers spreading their soft strands of pubic hair. The pink vagina slits were visible, and on the opposing page were close-ups of each tonguing the soft flesh and rich thighs of the other.
Lonnie was unable to tear herself away from the pictures. She'd heard of lesbianism, occasionally even wondered what it felt like to have the softer, more tender touch of a woman on her skin – but she'd never seen it before, had it so detailed before her eyes!
She turned to her friend, and found that Cylvia was now slouched in her seat, her legs wide apart. Her skirt was even higher than before! "They make me excited," Cylvia panted, her eyes glued to the pictures. "So damned hot! There's others, with men and dogs, and even one with a negro with a cock the size of a telephone pole… but there's something about this set, with the girls, that tears me apart when I look at them."
"You can't mean it!" Lonnie gaped.
"I do," Cylvia said, nodding. "I'm being honest, and as my friend, you can be honest with me. Don't they excite you? Don't they make you want to spread your legs for the first thing that comes in sight?"
"But – but these are perverted! They're doing un-unnatural acts!"
"They're merely enjoying themselves, Lonnie. Without men around, what else is there? Besides fingering yourself, I mean. That's what I do when I'm alone and look at the pictures. I take all my clothes off and lie on the bed and look at the girls making love and I play with my own cunt until I cum."
"Cylvia," Lonnie moaned. She was so awfully mixed up. She knew she shouldn't have had that last drink, for her vision was becoming distorted with her mental reflection of what she'd done that morning – what she'd done to herself on previous days when the build-up of passion had been too great. She'd lain on her bed, naked, and done the exact same things to her pussy which Cylvia was admitting having done to herself! She felt she should stop this perverted talking before it got any worse… but the drinks and Cylvia's salacious confessions and the pictures before her were a melage too strong to counter-act. She felt wicked churnings in her body, the prickles of arousal stirring in her blood and marrow.
"Ohhh, God, Lonnie, I'm excited," Cylvia mewled. "I… I don't think I can stand it!"
Mrs. Lonnie Carmel's heretofore naive view of her best friend and trusted confident took another shattering blow. For Cylvia raised her dress yet higher, so that now it was bunched around her waist – and that she wasn't wearing any panties! Cylvia Oliss was naked from the waist down, and was brazenly spreading her logs still wider, exposing her moist, blonde-haired cunt to Lonnie's wild-eyed vision.
Lonnie was speechless. Never had she been a part of such abandonment of modesty. She'd seen other girls in the nude, of course; had taken showers and been at slumber parties and changed into bathing suits with no thought that their – and her – private parts were in display. But there had been good taste then, and not a flaunting of genitals with overtones of sex so apparent. Here, now, her best friend was shameless and openly admitting her unfulfilled needs, her most decadent of practices. Lonnie was always ashamed of having to use her own hands to relieve the hunger of her sex drive – and never had the thought occurred to her to use any stimulus, such as pictures or stories, either alone or with Roger! And whenever she did conjure up images during the billowing heat waves of her arousal, it was always of Roger…
"God, all I can think of is my cunt being kissed," Cylvia groaned. She parted her thighs and rotated her bare thighs on the couch, her one hand moving up and down, encircling the lovely curls and swollen red valley of her vaginal lips, while her other hand was still around Lonnie's shoulder, preventing her friend from leaving the couch. "Just like those girls are doing to each other… see, Lonnie? Their kisses, their tongues, their finger-fucking each other. Ooohhhhh…"
Lonnie tried to avert her eyes from the licentious sight of Cylvia undulating her loins and agitating her throbbing cunt, but her gaze only returned to the lusty pictures and the twin females of perversion. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, her stomach a thousand butterflies. She looked back at her friend and was drawn once more to Cylvia's soft pubic triangle, for there was a strange attraction for the woman's hair and flesh which made Lonnie cringe and want to pull away and yet lean closer at the same time.
"Ahhhh," Cylvia moaned uncontrollably. "Ahhh, it feed so good…"
The Oliss woman revolved her fingers in the lust-moistened furrow of her pussy now, her legs bent slightly to allow her hand full access as she hungrily managed her cuntal slit. The flesh grew redder with excitement, and she breathed harder and harder, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. She leaned her head against Lonnie's rigid shoulder and clenched her teeth. "Uuhhhh," she sighed through her mouth.
"Stop it," Lonnie pleaded. "Please… please stop it."
"Why? I'm only doing what I enjoy. We're friends, Lonnie. We understand one another, and we both know we masturbate."
Her moist, glistening vagina was splayed wide for Lonnie's view, and the shocked young wife could smell its perfumed female secretions. As much as she wanted Cylvia to stop, she was too close in spirit and desires to the Oliss woman to be anything but a sympathetic and empathetic comrade. Tears of frustration and indecision clouded her lids – and there was her own deep wetness building between her inner thighs. With a terrified jolt, Lonnie realized that her own hips were unconsciously starting to grind with helpless excitement, and that her breasts and vagina were actually hurting in response to Cylvia's immoral teasing of her own loins.
Cylvia Oliss wasn't quite as thoroughly out of rational control as she was making her hapless woman companion believed. She loved what she was doing – had always reveled in displaying her full, curvaceous body in lewd and debauched ways in front of others – but in spite of the ebullient sensations running rampant through her, one sane portion of her brain kept a close watch on the reactions of her friend, and with the sureness born of experience and cunning, she dropped her hand from Lonnie's shoulder and cupped one of the large, round globes of Roger Carmel's wife. Lonnie shuddered at the alien feel and bit her lower lip hard, and for a moment tried to pull away. But the aching wretchedness inside her spread like wild-fire at the soft touch, draining her of the will to resist. She dropped the booklet on the table with a groan; it stayed open to the evil photo of the two Scandinavian girls frozen in their passionate soixante-neuf position. Cylvia waited until Lonnie had capitulated to the fingers, then she moved her arm and edged up inside Lonnie's thin sweater until once more the hardening flesh and budding nipple of the woman's breast was teased. And all the while she continued to fondle her clitoris and vagina with abandonment.
Cylvia Oliss mewled again as she slid the bra up over the quivering mounds of Lonnie Carmel's breasts, and could hardly restrain herself from ripping off the sweater then and there so she could drink in the loveliness of her friend's full twin mounds. She knew instinctively that they'd be beautiful – almost as magnificent to touch and kiss and view as a man's erected penis. She loved men, was a hedonist when it came to their bodies and genitals, but there were times when the creamy skin and velvety sweetness of another woman was a pleasant variation. Especially of a woman like Lonnie Carmel, who had to be awakened to the full, until now hidden depths of her sexuality. It made it all the more exciting this way.
Lonnie shuddered and almost wept with the tensions which tore through her soul. Cylvia's hand was massaging her breasts – first one, and then the other – into concrete hardness, and she could feel her breath coming in short, labored gasps as she twisted against the cushions and attempted to regain her control and put out the fire that was engulfing her loins unmercifully. Her eyes glazed as she looked at the passion-inciting pictures spread in front of her and then at the lascivious manipulations of her friend's cunt beside her. She heard the lewd and lust-enticing entreaties which Cylvia was now murmuring in her ear – words which she hadn't heard since high school and that were now suddenly exciting as they'd not been then. The trembling, scared housewife pressed her thighs together, pushing her fists into the base of her stomach in one last determined effort to overcome the passions seething inside the cauldren of her body. In her sex and alcohol drugged mind, she knew that she would soon not have any strength to fight off the lust that was tugging at the very core of her quivering being. And she was deathly terrified of the consequences…
Yes; what would be the consequences? What would she do if she was driven to the point where she had to have release? And why was her friend, her very best friend doing this to her? Why was she being driven out of her mind by the twin devils of Cylvia's unrestrained actions and her inner inabilities to control the heathen arousals?
And then Cylvia let her fingers slowly worm their way down the rippling flesh of Lonnie's stomach and over her skirt to her bare legs. The women stroked the upper leg, and tickled the soft flesh of her inner thighs and Lonnie felt her muscles responding with tiny, excited spasms. She desperately tried to wrench herself from the binding forces of her nature, and then as more tantalizing sensations crawled through her belly and swelled her breasts, she found it almost impossible just to sit still.
"No…" she breathed heavily. "You mustn't, Cylvia… you mustn't." But Cylvia was all but insensate form the delirium of her whipping masturbations and the goading of the lovely woman beside her. She wouldn't have stopped for anything, especially for the ever-weakening pleas of the wife she planned to degradate in every way imaginable. This was only the first course… the main meal was yet to be eaten; the thought alone made Cylvia tighten her fingers around Lonnie's unconsciously parting legs.
"Please, Cylvia…" Lonnie was now desperately fighting herself as much as the other woman. "It isn't right. We're two women. It isn't natural."
"Pleasure is the only thing natural," Cylvia replied thickly. "Everything else are artificial restraints. Or don't you like what I'm doing? Tell me you are sick, repulsed, can't bear to see me ever again. Go on, if you're able. Tell me."
Lonnie couldn't say a word, her voice caught in her throat.
"I thought so. You like it as much as I do, and your cunt's so hot right now that you can't stand it." She grazed the soft material of Lonnie's nylon panties and ran a finger along the secretion band, feeling the soft down and rounded protuberance of the woman's vaginal lips. She slid her finger up and down the silken cloth, much in the same manner as she was fingering her own salacious, carniverous pussy. "You like me rubbing your wet cunt. I can tell it. I can feel the stains in your panties from your hot juices, and the way your sweet pussy lips are twitching. Just the same way they twitch when you fingerfuck yourself when Roger's not around."
Lonnie's face grew crimson red. It's true, she thought in utter mortification. Too damned true. Miserably she trembled with the ecstasy from Cylvia's rubbings realizing what this admission meant. All her body would be putty in her friend's perverse hands, to be manipulated by the lewd whims of the woman. She shivered violently and tears ran down unhampered, falling on her wrinkled sweater, but the sensations pervaded deeper and deeper, and now she was writhing on the cushions, her body becoming more abandoned and out of control, and slowly she turned her face toward the head of Cylvia, who was still leaning on her near shoulder. She opened her mouth so that she could breathe better, and tasted the satin skin of her friend's cheek, and sweet desire rippled through her. The sane revulsion of being made love to by another woman became the emotional turmoil of unrequited lust, and nothing else. A thrilling desire to be released from the burning embers of sexual stimulation, to be brought to the crest of completion and know surcease from to torture wracking her genitals and inner womb flooded her tormented body.
Cylvia Oliss smiled triumphantly to herself and kissed Lonnie's small, curvaceous ear tenderly. She sensed that from now on she could do anything she wanted to, and she vowed that for the rest of the time until they went to Club Royale she'd make Lonnie Carmel so hot that she'd offer no resistance to Sam Zeigler when he tried to fuck her. The plan of her husband's was working out perfectly, but her own yearning passion made her aware that she herself wanted to seduce this woman. She was actually enjoying herself.
"You have a wonderful body, Lonnie," she whispered enticingly. "Take your clothes off and we'll both be naked."
Lonnie's mind spiraled with panic. She wasn't being asked – Cylvia was ordering her to remove her clothing! She bit her loiter lip with the anguish that the knew she couldn't resist the command, that her body was going to betray her thoroughly. Slowly she sat up and, crossing her arms, raised her sweater to her neck, baring her swollen breasts to the beady gaze of the woman. Then she slipped the woolly garment off her head and bent forward, unclasping her useless brassiere. Her breath sucked in audibly as the moist hand that had been masturbating Cylvia now caressed her naked breasts, leaving a trail of lubricous juices across her quivering skin. She squirmed as the hand stroked one nipple, making it nearly burst with hardness. A moistness in her vagina from the other hand of her friend softened the already swollen lips of her throbbing cunt.
Cylvia pressed her hand deeper against Lonnie's cunt and then stretched the tender skin of her breast until the hard, red nipple was near her mouth. Opening her lips into an oval, she sucked the ribbed bud of flesh deep into her salivating mouth. Her satin lips sucked frantically, like a calf sucking on its mother's tit, and Lonnie's whole breast throbbed in her hand. She nipped with her teeth and felt sweet flesh pulse, and then she curled her tongue around the inflamed nipple.
Lonnie was helpless to do anything except squirm and moan in ecstatic delight. She let the sensations roll unimpeded through her writhing belly, her breasts shuddering with an uncontrolled passion which had taken over her mind and soul. Fumbling with the zipper and button of her skirt, she opened the material and frantically slid the skirt from her arched thighs, forcing Cylvia to remove the hand which was burrowed in her tender cunt. But the lips and fingers on her breasts were almost too much to bear unto themselves – it was as if the woman inherently knew that Lonnie's breasts were fantastically sensitive to stimulation, and had homed in on them with unerring accuracy, assured that the young wife of Roger Carmel would capitulate once they were conquered.
Lonnie kept her legs up and her feet free of the carpet as she puddled her skirt on the floor, for her hands were already busy at the band of her panties, peeling them down over her round curvaceous hips as fast as she could. But before the skimpy briefs were off, Cylvia's hand was on the mount of her vaginal split, eagerly spreading the inflamed and rounded lips apart. Lonnie sighed from the intense stabs of desire which cascaded from the tingling pink flesh of her inner thighs as Cylvia's fingers rubbed up and down the wide valley and grazed the throbbing clitoris and teased the moist, dilated hole to her womb. She gasped and began to whimper as the woman started to worm first one and then two slender fingers into her vagina, sliding with slippery sucking sounds while Lonnie fell back limply on the cushions, to lie prostrate and spread-legged with total abandonment, soft gurglings coming from her throat. Her aroused hips writhed in circles and arced upwards for more of the magically fucking hand. Then there was a sudden halt, the fingers pulled from her openly excited cunt, and Lonnie opened her eyes wide, wild for more.
Cylvia was stripping her dress off, and Lonnie saw that her girlfriend had not only been without panties, but bra as well! She had come over, passing through public with only a thin dress and shoes on! The sheer decadence and daring of such a garb added to the thrilling abandonment of the situation! She moaned as her eyes once more feasted on the moist, matted blonde-haired cunt, and saliva formed in her mouth as she gazed enraptured at the beautiful banned breasts. She made no protest as the woman came to her and slid on top of her, pushing down on the cushions and spreading her thighs wide. She looked down at the triumphant face of her best friend as Cylvia smiled and her eyes sparkled at the lusty sight of the spayed pussy and large breasts. She quivered with trepidation and expectation.
"Darling, I'm going to make you cum like you've never cum before," Cylvia whispered seductively, her head leaning over and her nostrils breathing heavy, hot air on Lonnie. "Kiss me…"
Lonnie stiffened as the warm lips of Mrs. Martin Oliss closed over hers, and a darting tongue probed along her slightly parted mouth. There was a feeling that to kiss her would make what was happening all the more obscene, as if there was actual love and affection between them rather than just a more basic urge to relieve the tensions unbearable in her loins. But Cylvia had her hand cradling her head now, and after a moment of hesitation, she surrendered to the insistent tongue, and opened her lips to let it slide in her mouth. Their mouths fused hotly; Lonnie found herself responding with all the passion she saved for her husband, sucking and savoring the saliva from her girlfriend's mouth, and only conscious of the sensations the French kisses were causing to her already trembling being.
"Oh, yes… yes," she murmured as they broke apart. "I want you, Cylvia… make me cum…" The wild abandon of her own lewd demands made her head reel, and her blood raced through her. Nothing else mattered except the carnal fact of here and now, and the delightful hot fire burning in her cunt and breasts and mouth.
Then the couch shifted, and Lonnie realized that Cylvia had moved. She groaned as the woman's soft hands feathered her skin, and her whole torso quivered as Cylvia sucked and kissed her breasts with her hot lips. Then the couch sagged again, and the long, slender, beautiful body of Mrs. Martin Oliss was stretched out full beside Lonnie, forcing her to move against the back cushions and bend slightly. And worse – Cylvia had moved in such a position as to have her face near her trembling pussy – and in turn have her own throbbing cunt offered at face level to the tortured eyes of Lonnie Carmel! It… it was just like the picture! No, no…!
But even as the sordid thoughts raced through the agonized Mrs. Carmel, Cylvia was once more planting long, fevered kisses on her burning flesh down around her belly and upper thighs. Her passionate vagina was tingling with roaring heat, swelling and expanding the inner walls and outer lips. Lonnie's mind whirled as her friend caressed her lower body with hands and mouth, but she pulled together enough strength to resist the invasion of her loins by closing her thighs. She'd never allowed her cunt to be kissed, even when Roger had suggested the perversion a few times! The whole idea of mouths to genitals had sickened her before, but now, so much had she allowed, that there was little left in her crazed mind to halt this final assault.
"Open your legs, Lonnie," the woman said softly, urgently. Without further hesitation, then she did as was bid, moaning slightly as Cylvia touched the sensitive pink flesh with her finger again. She turned her head to one side and her eyes were almost level with the offered triangle of soft golden pubic curls and taut ruby cunt lips of the woman who was manipulating her cunt, and as she gazed at the feminine splendor, Cylvia raised her upper leg, bending it so that the full majesty of her vaginal slit was paraded for Lonnie.
Lonnie had never considered that a woman's private parts were especially esthetic… but as hot breath was blown on hers, the lascivious sight before her face took on the qualities of beauty. She tentatively brushed her fingers over the stomach of the woman beside her, and saw that it made Cylvia tremble and moan with desire, and little droplets of lubricating fluid moistened the coral edges of her pussy. The skin felt so good to touch… Lonnie let her hands play up and down her friend's body, circling her thighs and buttocks, though not having the nerve to dip into the palpitating crest of hair and flesh between the widened legs. She just couldn't!
And then she cried out with sudden shock. Cylvia had kissed her pubic hair, just above her vaginal slit! Cylvia snaked out her tongue again and heard a muffled sob just before contacting the black-haired wife's firey clitoris, and then she licked molten swaths all the way along the fleece-lined cuntal lips, right down to the opening of her friend's vagina. Lonnie let all thoughts of right or wrong, depravity or passion pass in one sudden sweep of ecstasy and she drew her thighs upwards, giving Cylvia fuller access to her cunt, and she in turn found that she was clutching her friend's tanned buttocks with almost spastic strength, and her face was tangled in the golden wisps of pubic hair. Ripples of loathing and shame coursed through Lonnie, but all were overridden by the inundation of sensuality and passion. I can't do it! I can't… And then she was, her lips and tongue burrowing in the cleft of Cylvia Oliss' soft cunt. Her head oscillated slavishly as she abandoned herself to her position. She could smell the beautiful bouquet of genital female aroma coming from Cylvia's heated loins, and her own pussy ached with the twin devils of her friend's mouthings and the excitement of her lewd actions.
"Ohhhhh," cried Cylvia in a muffled voice. "That's it, that's it! Faster! Faster!"
Lonnie sucked hungrily, teasing the woman's little clitoris as Cylvia was doing to her own, and she was salivating as never before as she tongued and kissed and sucked the pink, trembling flesh. And all the while Cylvia was busy with the fleshy confines of her wet, side-turned pussy. Her insides were about to explode and she thrust harder and harder, every inch of her on fire. She felt herself cumming…
The walls of her vagina grasped at Cylvia's tongue and her clitoris quivered for the driving lips and teeth. The muscles in her abdomen writhed against the torture of her untamed fury and she checked and gasped as she strove to bring her friend to the same completion she was nearing. Finally with an animal-like howl, her body shuddered and she jerked against the face of Cylvia Oliss as wild orgasmic juices poured forth from her hotly pulsating vaginal mouth.
Cylvia felt Lonnie explode, and then her own orgasm hit, taking hold of her body and sending it surging again the bobbing face of her girlfriend, pushing it crazily for longer, hotter mouthings as she crooned out her release.
"Ohhhhhhh!" she groaned, and she was joined in her cry by Lonnie's: "Ahhhhhhh!" for Lonnie spawned and screamed with pleasure, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead. And then the two women fell limp, their climaxes, like giant crushing machines, leaving them both stupified with satiation. They lay like that, their faces cradled between each other's open thighs, for a long while until strength returned.
Lonnie lay still, and as sanity seeped through the blinding passion of her brain, she experienced a rising tide of guilt. It had felt so good, she couldn't deny that… and yet it was bad. What if Roger or Jennifer ever found out what she'd allowed – no, had actually participated in? She'd die. A low whimper of regret passed through her as she opened her eyes. She stared at the beautiful body before her, at the rounded hips and the blonde triangle of pubic hair, still matted with saliva and Cylvia's lubrications. She ran her tongue nervously over her lips, tasting again the female piquance of her friend's vagina, and had the sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end here. That as much as she loathed herself for doing this, she would fall prey to her staggering emotions time and time again, whenever her female companion wanted. For something had been released inside her, a trigger had been pulled, and she had to confess to herself, if not to Cylvia, that she had passed over that line between control and hedonism, and would never be safe from doing it again.
She'd try – oh God, would she try; for her family, for her marriage, for herself. But once the frailties of the flesh have been exposed, it's a barring knowledge, and one which cannot be covered again and forgotten. Lonnie Carmel could never trust her body again, could never take pride in her aloof stand above the vagarities of human response. And then a more terrible assertion came to her – did she really want to?
Yes… yes, she did. She must not repeat this! She must find the power to combat her infirmeries… she must, somehow.
"I thought you'd like that, once you let your hair down, Lonnie," Cylvia said, purring as she stirred from her prone position. "We'll have to do this more often, I can see that."
The very lewdness of the remark smashed that last remnants of the wife's pride. Tearfully, she whimpered, "Please, Cylvia. No more. Not now. Jennifer might come home." Anything – any excuse to delay a second debacle, a repeat which she could so easily find herself doing, for her body was not satiated but only temporarily stilled – and a repeat of the same lewd act would certify her worst inner fears.
Cylvia, standing, fluffed her hair and smiled down upon the tormented lusciousness of her friend's naked form. "No, your daughter won't be coming home for quite awhile," she said. "She'll be at that party for many hours, I'm sure." She knew full well that Jennifer was right at that moment being seduced with the same practiced ease with which she had just seduced her friend. "Don't worry about her, Lonnie." She had the urge to laugh then, for Lonnie looked so shamed and yet so very hot.
"Listen, Lonnie," the evil woman said in a condescending tone, "I know you're feeling awfully bad about what we did just now, but believe me, it's only because it's new to you."
"I… I don't wish to discuss it." Lonnie turned her head away.
Cylvia was too clever to let the reaction of self-incrimination steal the pleasure and satisfaction from Lonnie's guilty mind. The body she had just conquered would be a slave to sexual license from now on – but she had to make sure that Lonnie openly went along with her body, for only then could full enjoyment be realized – and her hopes for another member to their swap club be added. Her husband may have his motives – but Cylvia had her own as well. She didn't deceive herself into thinking the could do it all at once, of course – there had to be reinforcements, and soon; Zeigler would see to that – but the seeds for the change in mind and soul had to be started now, while the body still emanated its signals of satiation and smug satisfaction.
Mrs. Oliss looked down on the hapless, despondent wife. "No, I must say this, as one friend to another. What we did – what millions of normal assenting adults do every day, is nothing but good, clean fun which adds novelty and a lovely experience to your life. You did enjoy it, didn't you?"
There was a long silence, and then the tearful admittance from Lonnie: "Y-yes, I did."
"You see? You haven't dulled your love for Roger; all you did was have a fulfilling sexual experience, and we became all the closer for it. What could be more natural than that?" Cylvia Oliss sat down, her naked hips touching the still warm and palpitating stomach of the distraught young wife. She stroked Lonnie's side tenderly. "What we did was an embellishment, nothing more. I bet that when Roger comes home, you'll be more passionate and ardent a lover than before, because you'll be proving to him that sex is better with him than any other way. And of course it is; it always is."
Lonnie moaned and tried to clear her head, to think straight about what had happened and her friend's interpretation of it. But the liquor and the shock of her body's betrayal had dulled her brain to the point of utter confusion. She battled with her life-time of moral concepts – it was wrong, so wrong… or was it? How could anything that had been so pleasurable be wrong? Was it just her puritanical prejudices damning her, and not the reaction to inhuman demands? She couldn't make up her mind… so much had happened in so short a time… she was miserably confused.
Cylvia chuckled, knowing the seed had been planted, and decided not to press the issue further for fear of overdoing it. She said: "Come on, it's time for that dinner. I'm starved now!"
"Oh, Cylvia, I couldn't!" Lonnie wailed.
"Of course you can. It'll give you a chance to calm down and think rationally and a breath of fresh air besides. It's about time you got some food in that belly of yours, anyway. Whoo-eh! The liquor hit us both pretty hard."
There was truth in that, Lonnie admitted to herself ruefully. She staggered to her bare feet, and stood nude beside the woman who'd just made love to her. She blushed at her nakedness. "I'll leave a note for Jennifer, just in case she comes home early."
"A fine idea," Cylvia said. "Now go in and put the sexiest dress you've got on. Something really scandalous. And then we'll go out and have some fun."
Lonnie nodded numbly and started for her bedroom.
"And for God's sakes take that look off your face," Cylvia called after her. "You act as if there's a neon sign in your forehead telling the world you and I were on the couch together." She laughed. "Hell, it's just another intimate secret between us, Lonnie, just like all the others. Trust me."
When Lonnie was in the bedroom and rustling clothes in her closet, the Oliss wife crossed quickly to the phone and dialed the number of the Club Royale quietly. As she waited for an answer and the chance to tip Zeigler that they would soon be on the way to his club, she smiled grimly. Trust me, Lonnie, trust me to make you break down into the hottest little piece of ass in town. After all, what are friends for, if not to trust?