This is the last of seven parallel and related stories; they work best if read in sequence. To find the previous chapters, follow the author link above. These stories are fiction, and all places and characters are invented.
copyright: Lesley Tara, 2010
It is the annual alumni reunion event at the Lauderton High School, which they hold in the large gymnasium in the main school building. The events in these stories take place at various times during the evening, and to different characters; they are not chapters of the same story, but a series of separate takes. We are the invisible camera, panning around the scene and then zooming in for a close-up ...
Kirsty Sheraton was thirty-three years old, and had graduated from the high school fifteen years before. She had won a scholarship to Harvard, where she had stayed on to take a doctorate; this had been the start of a successful academic career, and for the last six years she had been an associate professor on the faculty of the City University of New York. A year after she had started her first degree, her parents had moved to Washington D.C.; with no other relatives in the area, she no longer had any reason to visit her old home town. However, a few weeks ago, shortly after the arrival of the Lauderton Alumni annual newsletter with its invitation to the reunion gathering, she had unexpectedly received an email from her one-time best friend from her high school days, Tessa Du Boise, making contact after an interval of nearly fifteen years. Tessa had written that they had been out of touch for too long, and that she would love to see her again, if Kirsty was thinking of coming to the event?
Well, until this point Kirsty hadn’t been, but her curiosity was aroused – for her close relationship with Tessa had cooled with strange abruptness when she had left for Harvard. She had always wondered why, and had sometimes thought about getting in touch again, but Tessa’s stand-offishness during Kirsty’s first (and, as it turned out, last) college vacation back in town had discouraged her from trying, and after that she had been fully occupied with her studies, with building a career, and with ... other things. What finally tipped the scale was Tessa’s kind offer that, as she no longer had folks in town, Kirsty would be welcome to stay over at her house. So Kirsty had replied, with an enthusiasm which had surprised herself, giving the white lie that she had been going to come to the event anyway, and would love to see Tessa and take up her offer of overnight accommodation. No sooner was this message sent, than Kirsty realised the reunion date clashed with an academic conference she was attending in Denver on the same day – but a quick check of airline schedules determined that if she left before the final keynote address (which was by a professor who bored her and whose theories she thought were rubbish), she could get to town not too long after the reunion event began, and so she arranged to meet her former friend there and they would leave together at the end.
Kirsty was no believer in academic women looking dull and dowdy. She had always liked clothes and fashion, and felt good when she looked good – in fact, she got a thrill from turning heads, whether of men or women, and sometimes skated a little close to slutty in her choice of outfits for social occasions. Her selection for the reunion gathering was a case in point: her black leather mini-skirt was just that bit shorter and tighter than most women of her age would have chosen; when she moved, the lower elastic bands of her transparent hold-ups were sometimes tantalisingly visible. Above this was a tight-fitting short sleeve top in an eye-catching shade of red; it showed off to advantage the generous thrust of her breasts, and was brief enough that there were frequent glimpses of her midriff and belly-button. All of this was set off by matching black leather boots with sharp pointed toes, spike heels and a generous fold-over top in ‘cavalier’ style, whilst her top was echoed by the scarlet colour of her fingernails. Yet, Kirsty could carry it off in a way that most women approaching their mid-thirties could never have done. She had retained much of her youthful good looks, her skin was smooth, her face showed hardly any lines, and her auburn-tinted hair was stylishly shaped from a centre parting to fall below her shoulders. Her figure was sleek and curved in all the right places, and regular workouts gave her shapely legs that were as good as any twenty year old’s. However, much of Kirsty’s impact was due to her poise and personality – there was no doubt that she had plenty of charisma.
Her flight was delayed by bad weather, and Kirsty did not arrive at the reunion until more than halfway through the evening. After being welcomed pleasantly by the current Principal (a very well-endowed brunette, who was looking rather tired), Kirsty took an appraising look around the large hall. Really, she thought to herself, there were a lot of attractive women scattered about the place – and girls too, she amended, her eye being caught by a strikingly pretty slender blonde who was tending one of the buffet tables. In the days when she had been a student at the school, Kirsty had considered that the teaching faculty had included quite a few hot mature women amongst its number. That didn’t seem to have changed, from the evidence of the handsome and ripely-curved Latina woman of about her own age – from her assured stride, clearly a member of staff – whom Kirsty had encountered leaving the room just as she had been about to enter it.
Kirsty began to circulate around the room, looking for her former best friend. On the way, she encountered a surprising number of old classmates, as many others had come particularly because of the fifteen-year anniversary. Both the men and the women seemed pleased to see her – it was partly the effect of having been out of sight for so long, but also Kirsty had been popular in her year, had taken no part in cliques or bitchiness, and had been on good terms with many people who couldn’t stand each other. She enjoyed the conversations and the catching-up, and neatly side-stepped the rather obviously suggestive flirting of a couple of the divorced men. However, it was not until nearly the end of the evening that she spotted the person who she most wanted to see – but she was glad to find that she recognised Tessa at once.
Tessa was older, of course, for they had last met in their late teens, and there had been much water under the bridge since then. Her old friend had always been good-looking in an understated, non-showy sort of way; together with her modest and gentle manner, this had led to her often being overlooked, although she had always been quietly elegant and poised. The passage of time had removed the slightly anonymous blandness of her teenage appearance, and Kirsty thought her old friend looked more striking now. Tessa had always had poise and grace, but now there was a hint of determination and a sense of experience which underpinned this. Her face had a little more angularity, her eyes a more penetrating gaze, and she was if anything perhaps a little slimmer and trimmer than she had been at eighteen. All in all, she was the epitome of a healthy and handsome woman, in her early thirties, just entering the prime of life. Tessa had brown eyes and shoulder-length light brunette hair that was dyed mostly blonde, and she was wearing a simple but quite stylish two-piece suit of a light grey weave, with a single-button jacket and quite a short skirt. The rest of her outfit was in conventional black, which made an effective contrast: black heels, black pantyhose and a plain black top with a square-cut neck.
The room was beginning to empty, and the student helpers were starting to tidy up, when Kirsty and Tessa finally came face to face. There was a moment of awkwardness which Kirsty rode over – characteristically, for she had always been the bolder of the two of them.
‘Hiya, Tess! Great to see you – it really is “long time no see”,’ she laughed, and then added more seriously: ‘too long – I don’t know where the years have gone.’
Tessa smiled back at her old friend, with much more warmth than Kirsty remembered from their last very stiff and awkward encounter of over fourteen years ago.
‘I’ll bet you’re setting the world on fire’, Tessa smiled, ‘you must tell me all about it’. Then she added, noticing with a start of surprise the wedding band on Kirsty’s finger: ‘You’re married, I see – wow! Who’s the lucky guy, anyone I know?’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘No, he’s a professor in another department at CUNY, we met about four years ago, and have been married for two. The wedding was a real impulse thing – we went to Vegas for a holiday, a bit of a laugh, and ended up thinking – well, yeah, why not! So there were no guests or anything, even Mom and Dad only found out afterwards.’
There was a clatter of plates on a nearby table, a slightly pointed hint that the clearing up was well under way. Tessa looked round, and saw the crowd had thinned rapidly to just a few stragglers like themselves.
‘I really do want to talk to you,’ she said, ‘let’s get back to my place, and I’ll fix us coffee or a drink – we’ll talk till dawn, like the old days!’ she finished with enthusiasm.
Kirsty looked at her slightly oddly, and then gave her a radiant smile.
‘Sure – here’s to the old days!’ she said, draining her glass of fizzy white wine and putting it down on a table. She put her arm companionably through Tessa’s, and they left together, chattering away. In the parking lot, Tessa tried to explain where her house was, but Kirsty shook her head and said just to drive slow and she would follow straight behind in her airport rental.
Ten minutes later both cars drew up at a medium-sized detached house in a quiet, respectable suburban neighbourhood. Tessa unlocked the front door, threw her bag and jacket on a chair in the hallway, eased off her shoes, and led the way through to the living room. She gestured to Kirsty to sit on the long four-seater couch which faced the fireplace and TV, and disappeared into the kitchen. Kirsty removed her jacket, and had hardly sat down when Tessa returned with a bottle of Californian Chardonnay and a couple of glasses, and flopped down next to her. At first, they chatted about mutual friends who had been at the reunion, and Kirsty enquired about a few who hadn’t. After a while, she asked:
‘So, Tess, how about you? – it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.’
Tessa’s lips pursed, making her suddenly seem older. She looked away into the middle distance, and replied:
‘The unholy trinity: got married – got kids – got divorced, you know how it goes.’
‘Oh! Tess, honey!’ Kirsty was startled, she had not known about any of this. ‘That last time I saw you, you were dating Brad Renfrew – is that who ... ?’ Tessa nodded sadly. ‘So – what went wrong?’ asked Kirsty.
‘We had the kids too young; it put a lot of strain on things ... after a while, I lost interest a bit, and he found someone else, a woman at his office ...’ Tessa tailed off, and then shook her head in a gesture of negation. It was time to face realities, and she drew a slightly shaky breath.
‘No, truthfully, that’s not it,’ she continued after a moment’s pause; ‘the real problem was that I rushed into marriage for the wrong reasons, because I was running away from something else.’
‘What?’ asked Kirsty, rather puzzled, and then was even more taken aback at her friend’s reply:
‘Whaaat?!! Whaddya mean?’ gasped Kirsty.
‘I’m not saying it right,’ said Tessa, smacking her hand on the couch in frustration. ‘I meant my feelings for you – I was running away from that, really I was running away from myself. I couldn’t admit it then, or for years afterwards, in fact not until quite recently.’ She gave a slightly bitter laugh: ‘It’s taken this long for me to finally grow up, and accept that I’m a lesbian.’
Kirsty was still reeling in surprise, and had no answer to give. Tessa carried on into the silence:
‘That last summer at high school ... those things we did together, they excited me so much, and then I lost my nerve – I got frightened of not being “normal”, of being an outcast. I tried so hard to be a regular boys-only chick that I managed to convince myself for a while – long enough to freeze it off with you, to get a boyfriend, and eventually stumble up the aisle in a marriage that was the wrong thing for both of us.’
‘And you’ve got kids? I didn’t know’, Kirsty said with sympathy. Looking around at the neat living room and the quiet house, there was no sign of it.
‘Oh!’ laughed Tessa, understanding her uncertainty. ‘They’re having a sleepover at my cousin’s – you remember Sandy – anyway, she’s got three kids of similar ages and they all get on really well, so they’re having a fine time! And, seeing as I’d be having a visitor, I took the opportunity to tidy up the house.’ With pride and affection shining from her face, Tessa brought over a framed photo. ‘Here, this is quite recent – Petra is nine, and David nearly seven.’
Kirsty dutifully admired them, which wasn’t difficult as they looked cute kids. Tessa talked a bit about the break-up, and it somehow seemed quite natural to tell her former best friend things that she had never vocalised before. It was as if the years in between had fallen away, and she no longer felt any awkwardness. Tessa concluded her tale:
‘Anyway, it had fizzled out between me and Brad, whatever there was at the start. He didn’t want to stay, and I didn’t want to keep him. The divorce was quite amicable, really – oh, his affair, that was just an excuse, it wasn’t the cause. By then, we were just staying together for the kids’ sakes, and that’s not always the best thing to do – you can get bitter, and blame them somehow. Brad and I are on quite good terms, and he’s a good father – he has them on alternate weekends, and for one week in three. That helps me get caught up with my job, gotta make ends meet.’
Kirsty asked what she did, and Tessa explained that she was a freelance copy-editor and proof-reader for publishers, which she could do at home and over the internet (which had been essential when the kids were little). It had taken a while to get things going at first, but she was both fast and accurate, and now was getting so many commissions that she had to refuse some. She explained that now she worked mainly for one of the big academic publishers, and in fact that was how she had known where to contact Kirsty, for her friend’s most recent book had been in their catalogue.
‘Why,’ said Kirsty in some surprise, ‘my next book is contracted with them as well – I’ll ask for you to be my editor!’ After a short pause for reflection, she continued: ‘I guess it’s been tough on you, babe,’ and then, brightening as she saw the prospect of a happier outcome: ‘So, since the divorce, you’ve been free to ... ?’ She left the question hanging suggestively open, but Tessa only shook her head again, and sighed.
‘No, I can’t ... with the kids, y’know, it’s impossible. So here I am, a thirty-three year-old lezzie, and I haven’t tasted a pussy since yours all of fifteen years ago!’ She gave a derisive laugh, and looked on the edge of breaking down in tears. Kirsty thrust a refilled wine glass into her friend’s hand, and watched her take a large gulp of the chilled Chardonnay.
‘Weeell,’ she said slowly, ‘we can do something about that.’ She leaned forward, and before Tessa realised what was in her mind, she had cupped her friend’s chin in her hand, and gave her a long, lingering and unmistakeably sexual kiss. Tessa opened her lips hungrily, sucking Kirsty’s tongue into her mouth, mashing their lips together. Kirsty’s hand deftly grasped her friend’s left breast, squeezing it firmly and feeling the responsive hardening of the nipple through Tessa’s bra and thin black top. She slid her other hand along Tessa’s thigh, stroking the soft inner flesh and caressing up to the front of her panties – to the prize of the cunt that she had last touched and tasted nearly fifteen years before. However, when Kirsty began to fondle her there, feeling the wet dampness of her crotch, Tessa gave a stricken cry, and pulled back from their kiss. She gazed at her sexy friend, with expressions of shock, fear, relief and desire chasing each other across her face.
‘Kirsty, no! We shouldn’t, no ... your husband!’ Tessa stuttered, getting in a verbal tangle: ‘I didn’t mean this, you know ... well, I mean, I meant it about what happened, about being a lesbo, I meant that, I didn’t mean for this when I asked you to stay, I don’t want you to think that I – ’
The torrent was abruptly stopped by Kirsty putting a finger to her friend’s lips, making a soothing and shushing sound.
‘Honey, babe – it’s OK, it’s just fine, calm down, babe’, she replied, ‘I know you weren’t taking it for granted, of course I do – and lemme tell ya, hot stuff, I’m doing this becos’ I want to ... I want you, just like I wanted you back then, it was soooo good!’ she ended, making a jokey lip-smacking sound that brought a faint smile back to Tessa’s pale and stricken face. There were the tracks of a few tears on her cheeks, and with loving affection Kirsty took a tissue and wiped them away. She continued:
‘As to my husband, no, don’t worry, that doesn’t cause a problem.’ Kirsty explained that she loved him very much, but that they were both actively bi-sexual; in fact, Kirsty had been very surprised to be attracted to him, as she had been solely a girl-lover from her first teenage experiences until her late twenties, and up to that point had thought of herself as 100% lesbian. She explained that they had a simple arrangement that worked well – she had sex with no other man and he with no other woman, but for both of them if an attractive (and, in his case, safe and healthy) opportunity happened with someone of the same sex for some fuck-buddy type fun, with no emotional commitment, then they would go for it – always telling the other about it afterwards. ‘So’, concluded Kirsty with a lustful gleam in her eye, ‘as long as you don’t mind Henry hearing about this – and it will go no further – then, well – babe, I’m all yours for tonight!’ She could see her friend wavering, and could sense how much Tessa both wanted and deeply needed this – if only for closure on that blockage in her past, something to give a good memory from which she could move onwards.
‘C’mon, Tess baby, my old sweet Furry-Puss!’ Tessa smiled at the memory of Kirsty’s special secret pet name for her during those exhilarating months of their exploration of each other’s teenage bodies and their developing lesbian relationship – it referred to her untrimmed pubic thatch, although nowadays Tessa kept her cunt clean-shaven (for reasons of hygiene and comfort, as no one had touched her there sexually for years). ‘Let’s make up for lost time – let’s have a real reunion, your pussy and mine, it’ll make us both feel good, I promise you that!’
Tessa laughed, her last doubts and inhibitions dissolving in the face of Kirsty’s assurance and uncomplicated good humour.
‘OK’ she said softly, ‘you’ve no idea how often I’ve thought about this over the years ... and still more since getting in touch again, thinking of seeing you, having you actually under my roof. But I did make up the guest room, you know, I didn’t think we would really end up in my bed – I mainly just thought we could talk, I’d explain and say sorry for how I turned my back on you – and on everything I should have done and been – when you came back from Harvard that time. By the time I realised what a fool I’d been, your folks had moved away and you weren’t coming back here any more ... and I guess pride and nerves stopped me from writing to you.’
Kirsty gave Tessa a brief kiss on the lips, a token of friendship more than of sex, and replied: ‘It’s allright, babe, I understand now – and I kinda think I did at the time, when you had started with Brad, and I didn’t want to spoil that, I didn’t want to come between you two. I was hurt, I’m not saying I wasn’t, and that held me back too, but I’ve long since got over it, you know I don’t blame you, not at all.’
Tessa’s shaky smile became more definite as Kirsty said this, and her eyes showed the relief and calmness that her friend’s forgiveness had brought to her.
‘Now ...’ growled Kirsty, in mock-ferocious tones, ‘Furry-Puss, I’m gonna eat you up one more time – let’s fuck!!’
Tessa gave a delighted – but still slightly alarmed – squeal, as without further ado her friend took her shoulders and pushed her over onto her back on the couch. Leaning above her, Kirsty smiled down and then kissed her more slowly – at first, very carefully, just in case Tessa might have a sudden panic or revulsion, and demand that they stop. However, stopping was the last thing on that sex-starved woman’s mind, and with an anticipatory gasp she opened her lips wide and thrust her tongue vigorously into Kirsty’s mouth for a long, wet and sensual French kiss.
At the start, it was naturally the experienced Kirsty who led the way. She was the first to bring her hands to the other’s breasts, beginning with stroking Tessa’s chest through her black top, and then raising the stakes by slipping her hands under it and cradling the bra cups underneath. Tessa’s response was a mumble of encouraging words, as she arched her back in response, thrusting upwards her modestly-sized but still firm and shapely 30B breasts. Kirsty took advantage of this movement to pull Tessa’s top up from her waist and away over her head, and then she began to cradle and squeeze the cups of the rather elegant sliver-and-black bra that was revealed beneath.
Tessa moaned some more, and reflexively spread her legs apart – a motion which caused the short grey skirt to ruck up around her waist and expose the crotch of her black pantyhose. However, Kirsty had not finished with her friend’s breasts yet, no matter the temptation offer by this vista – for there would be plenty of time for that later. Kirsty reached for Tessa’s bra straps and pulled them over her shoulders and down her arms, which also had the effect of peeling away the bra cups from Tessa’s breasts. To help things along, Tessa quickly reached behind her back to unclip the bra, and her friend pulled it away from her chest and tossed it over to a nearby armchair.
Kirsty paused for a moment, kneeling upright and half-straddling her prone friend – a posture which spread her own thighs apart and made her black leather mini-skirt ride up to her hips, and in her case exposed the front of a very miniscule pair of black thong panties. Tessa was both aroused and emboldened by this erotic vision, and without a thought or hesitation she reached up under Kirsty’s skirt to touch and then squeeze the other woman’s Venus mound.
Now it was Kirsty’s turn to give a little gasp of surprise and pleasure, for until this moment she had not been sure of how active Tessa was going to be – whether she would just lie passively whilst Kirsty made love to her (which would be nice enough, but rather dull), or whether she was going to take some initiative. Kirsty smiled, not only because it seemed the latter and much more pleasurable course was the one that would be taken, but also because she should have trusted her old friend – she should have known that Tessa would not hang back, would not miss her opportunities; for all that she had been the less noticed and less extrovert of the two friends at high school, she had possessed an inner core of determination that sometimes had almost frightened Kirsty.
Kirsty kissed Tessa again, all the while massaging her breasts and stroking her nipples. Tessa responded even more avidly to the kiss, and her fondling of the crotch of Kirsty’s thong became more vigorous and urgent. Suddenly, she slipped her fingers inside the fabric of the garment, to touch and probe Kirsty’s pussy – somehow, the latter was not surprised that it had been Tessa who had cut to the chase and been the first to touch the flesh of the other woman’s cunt. Still, it was incredibly arousing to feel the touch of her former best friend and one-time lover on her cunt – in fact, Kirsty found it far more profoundly erotic than the sexual encounters she had had in recent years with other women, even though they had been much more experienced than Tessa was. She gave a shudder as Tessa felt her openness and her wetness, and then the delicious sensation of her friend’s finger sliding down the length of her vagina and probing it apart made her take a sharp gasp of breath.
‘Wait!’ said Kirsty hastily: ‘hold on, not yet – don’t make me come yet, there is so much to do, so much to enjoy!’
And with that sentiment, she unzipped and removed Tessa’s short grey skirt, admiring her friend’s slender and well-toned form, which was now naked apart from the black pantyhose and the outline of a pair of panties underneath them. Kirsty bent her head down, taking one of Tessa’s nipples into her mouth to lick, suck and nibble, which had a galvanising effect on the supine woman. The latter reached over Kirsty’s back, firstly quite roughly pulling her red top off over her head, and then unzipping the black leather mini-skirt at the side, so that it dropped away from Kirsty’s waist to around her knees.
The experienced lesbian stood up from the couch for a moment in order to let her skirt tumble down to her ankles, and then she stepped quickly out of it and kicked it aside. As Kirsty stood over the couch, Tessa stared up at her friend’s striking figure with admiration and desire. Kirsty had always been shapely; as a teenager, she had been one of the first in their year to get noticeable curves, and her smoothly-rounded 30D breasts were well displayed in their black underwired bra. Kirsty still had a narrow waist, and her best feature was the swell of her hips and the swing of her ass out below her trim middle. The effect was highlighted by her very skimpy thong (the back part of which had all but entirely disappeared into the crevice between her butt-cheeks) and still more by her black boots. Kirsty reached down to slip these off, but was stayed by Tessa’s hand.
‘No, don’t ... please, keep them on, honey, you look so fucking hot in them, it sends me – you know that it does!’
Kirsty nodded and smiled, her memory also going back to their first real sexual experimentation, just after Christmas in their final year in the 12th grade – yes, it had been an outfit which she had worn then, of black boots and a short tight red mini-skirt, which had emboldened Tessa to make the first advance – or rather, as Kirsty saw it, finally to pick up on the hints which she had been dropping with ever-greater lack of subtlety for some time.
‘So I do, Furry-Puss, so I do! – and you’ll remember something too, but it’s something that I don’t like!’
It took a few seconds for Tessa’s memory to make the right connection, and by then it was too late anyway. Kirsty gestured at the pantyhose which sheathed her friend’s slim form from her toes to her waist, and declared with mock ferocity:
‘Who invented this fucking monastic garment anyway, covering everything up all tight and under wraps – I’ll bet it was a man! You know my rule, babe: women wear hold-ups or stockings, something you can slip a hand up to and feel their panties – and pull them off nice and easy too. But this! ... no, no, this has gotta go!’
With a vivid flash of memory, powerful and immediate, Tessa remembered from one of their last times together when they were still at high school, how her then-lover had detested pantyhose – a garment which with utter disgust she had refused to wear. It seemed that her friend hadn’t become any more tolerant since then of the obstruction posed by pantyhose, for she expressed her frustration now in exactly the same direct way in which she had those many years ago.
Kirsty’s breasts swayed enticingly in the support of her underwired bra, as she swung back over to straddle the couch. Reaching down with both hands, she gripped the crotch of Tessa’s pantyhose and then, with a snarl, she ripped it open right above the prone woman’s crotch. It was a stunningly erotic moment of forceful lesbian sexuality, and Tessa groaned in arousal, her pussy drenched in her juices. She slid her hands under her own ass and cantilevered her pelvis off the couch, simultaneously spreading her legs wide apart, her cunt burning with the fires of desire.
‘Oh, God! Please – fuck me, babe, take me now – Christ, I need it so bad, it’s been so fucking long ... now, please, now ...’
Kirsty lost no time, and she reached inside the gaping hole which she torn in the pantyhose, gripped the gusset of Tessa’s quite pretty black lace-trimmed bikini panties, jerked it aside to reveal her friend’s shaven and glistening pussy, and dived down up it with her mouth like a shark feeding on minnows. As she began to lick and suck, Kirsty lost any vestige of restraint: she realised how badly she wanted Tessa, who had been out of reach – but not out of her subconscious – for all these years. There was unfinished business here, and now she meant to bring things to a resolution – one satisfactory to all parties. This was just fine by Tessa, for it matched her own desires, although their trajectory had been the opposite from her former lover: Kirsty had longed for her friend for quite some time after their break-up, even whilst consoling herself with a whirlwind series of brief and entirely physical lesbian liaisons at college, and eventually had consigned it all to memory, whilst Tessa had suppressed her feelings at the start and then in recent years had come to acknowledge them and bitterly to regret having turned her face away.
After eating Tessa’s pussy to the point where she shuddered in an intense but brief mini-orgasm, Kirsty moved upwards, bringing her mouth to her friend’s breasts and her adept fingers to her pussy. She slid two long digits deep into Tessa’s vagina, whilst her thumb found and stroked the prone woman’s clitoris. Tessa moaned with pleasure, staring up fixedly at Kirsty. Then she reached behind Kirsty’s back and unsnapped her bra, which gravity at once caused to drop away from Kirsty’s chest to lie across Tessa’s waist. With a quick flick of the wrist, Tessa sent it flying to the floor, and then her hands sought their prizes, as she took Kirsty’s pendulously swinging breasts into her hands, and began to maul and squeeze them. This encouraged Kirsty to increase the tempo and vigour of her finger-fucking, and she was astonished when – some way short of another orgasm – Tessa reached between them to grasp her wrist and stop her.
‘Wait ... I have something, umm ... something better,’ she said.
Now more intrigued than annoyed, Kirsty stepped off the couch, allowing Tessa to slide out from underneath her. Her former best-friend went over to some drawers, unlocked one, and returned with an oblong cardboard box.
‘I keep it in there where the children can’t see it’, explained Tessa, as she opened the box – which was still sealed with tape – and produced with a flourish a handsomely-sized strap-on dildo, complete with harness. She explained that a few months ago, in one of her more optimistic moods, she had bought this by mail order, but she had never yet had an occasion to take it out of its box. Kneeling in front of Kirsty, she tugged the curvy woman’s thong down her legs and then, as Kirsty obligingly shifted her legs apart to assist her, Tessa buckled the strap-on into place over her former best friend’s hips and crotch. Greatly daring, once it was firmly fixed, she took the protruding plastic rod into her mouth, coating and lubricating it with saliva.
‘Now!’ she said, her nostrils flared and eyes gleaming hotly with lust: ‘fuck me now, fuck me so hard, right now!’, and she spread her legs as far apart as they would go, offering up her cunt to her one-time lover.
Kirsty thought this was a stunningly erotic situation, and felt her own juices seeping around the base of the strap-on. She moved swiftly to kneel on the couch between Tessa’s spread legs, and just for a second she stroked the puffy labia which were visible through the hole in the pantyhose, as the gusset of the panties was still jerked away to one side. Then, like an invading barbarian horde, she seized the other woman above her hips, jerking her down further on the couch, whilst bringing the tip of the strap-on to line up with the hole in the tights through which the hole into Tessa’s body was both visible and accessible. Kirsty wasted no more time – she shoved the dildo in through the rent in the pantyhose and pushed it forcefully into Tessa’s slit. Even with lubrication, this took some pressure at first, so long had it been since Tessa had last had sexual intercourse – it was so far back that she could not put a date upon it.
Kirsty began a vigorous, steaming fucking of her friend – plunging the dildo in and out of her pussy, through the erotic sight of her ruined pantyhose. Tessa’s hands clutched her back, her nails digging in as she approached her climax, her eyes screwed tightly closed and her open mouth utter a chaotic mixture of swear words, imprecations to be fucker harder still, gasps, grunts, moans and shudders. At last, as Kirsty rammed the dildo in even more forcefully, Tessa’s pelvis reared up to meet it, and then her whole body shook and she gave a wailing scream. For several seconds, Tessa was lost to the universe in an explosive orgasm, in which the frustrations and desires of the last decade and longer were fused together, and then blown into atoms.
When she surfaced, her eyes glowing and her nipples stiffly erect, she reached up to Kirsty’s shoulders and swung the other woman over to the side, so that they exchanged positions in a kind of slow somersault. Now Kirsty was flat on her back along the couch with the strap-on pointing like a missile at the ceiling, and Tessa was above her. Without the slightest hesitation, Tessa straddled her friend and plunged her pelvis down, impaling herself on the dildo’s upright rod. As she began to slam up and down on the plastic pillar, she reached for Kirsty’s prominent breasts, grasping and kneading them, and pulling on her nipples. Such was Tessa’s urgency and need that within just a few minutes sweat broke out on her brow, as another climax cascaded through her. At the moment of truth, her head went right back on shoulders, and an almost animal scream was wrenched from her throat.
Shaking and gasping from the draining release of her sexual tension, Tessa slid off the shaft of the dildo and flopped forwards to lie alongside Kirsty. The latter was amazed at her friend’s vigour and wanton sexuality, and had found being ridden in that way powerfully erotic. She cradled Tessa in her arms, stroking her hair and shoulders, and kissing her forehead and cheeks. To her astonishment, after a very brief period of repose to recover her breath, Tessa started to stroke Kirsty’s nipples, and then to give them oral attention, whilst her hand quested down to between her friend’s thighs. With a soft moan, Kirsty swiftly unbuckled the strap-on and cast it aside in order to give Tessa unrestricted access to her pussy. She felt first one, then two and then – causing her to give a broken cry – three fingers push into her vagina and begin pumping it, rubbing intermittently against her clitoris. Far quicker than with most of her lesbian partners, Kirsty reached her climax, her juices almost squirting from her pussy with the strength of her orgasm.
Tessa was becoming ever bolder, and she shifted down the couch to feast on the pussy-juice spread across Kirsty’s cunt and thighs, drinking it up like a desperate traveller in the desert who finally reaches an oasis – and, in truth, that was how this was for her, the ending of her long sojourn in the sexual wilderness. Raising her come-streaked face from this passionate devouring, Tessa spoke huskily and with unusual assertiveness.
‘I know what I want – and I know what you need! I want to fuck you so bad, I want to have you!’
Kirsty was more usually the top than the bottom in her lesbian encounters, sometimes even quite aggressively so (in case it alarmed her friend, she had decided not to tell Tessa that she had developed quite a taste for role-plays and bondage, though nothing really painful or in the S&M line), but she could also be the submissive when the mood, the moment and the partner were right – and that was surely the case now!
‘God, yes, Tess – oh, my Furry-Puss, have me if you want me – have me any way you want me, just do it ... do me, do me so hard!’
Tessa stood up, and with quick decisive movements stripped away the shredded pantyhose and her panties, standing beautifully naked for a moment before reaching to pick the dildo up from the floor and strap it into place. Kirsty’s eyes widened in appreciation – fuck, but Tessa looked so hot with the lesbian love pole projecting from her cunt. Tessa instructed her friend to get off the couch and take up a stance on the carpet on her hands and knees, her legs spread slightly apart and her butt in the air. Wearing only her boots and hold-ups, Kirsty was an alluring sight – and her ass was one of her best features. She yelped as Tessa gave her rump several playful – but quite sharp – slaps, and then had no time for further protest as the rod of the dildo was speared into her cunt. Tessa gripped her friend at the waist, and in her urgent need abandoned any effort at subtlety – she simply fucked Kirsty stupid, there was no other word for it. The penetrations slammed with relentless force in and out of Kirsty’s vagina as her breasts swung wildly beneath her shaking body. The shafted woman gave a series of rising shrieks as the dildo rubbed across the nub of her clitoris, and her body was engulfed in ecstasy in the best lesbian orgasm that she had enjoyed for years.
‘Oh, wow, Furry-Puss!’ she gasped afterwards, when she could gather enough breath to speak; ‘you sure are making up for lost time ... and you sure are a natural at this, you sexy fucking lezzie!’
The pair of former – and now reunited – best friends kissed and cuddled for some time, first on the couch and then, as the room chilled uncomfortably in the night, they went upstairs to the king-size bed in Tessa’s bedroom. There they enjoyed a leisurely and mutually satisfying 69, before they felt fully satiated. Afterwards, the two women pulled the duvet across and cuddled up together underneath it in the warm bed. For a while they lay still, arms around each other, in companionable and contented peace and quiet, listening to the soft summer night-time sounds through the partly-open casement window.
Suddenly, Kirsty announced in a decided voice: ‘Furry-Puss, you need to stop just sitting around – you need to get seriously dating with some sexy babe, right here in town.’ After a slight pause, she added: ‘Do you remember Sally Henrikson from our class?’
‘Well, yes, of course.’ replied Tessa, rather startled by the apparent switch of direction. ‘After college, she came back and got a teaching post at the school, she’s been there for about ten years now, I saw her there this evening – anyway, why?’
‘Well, you should give her a call, I think she’d be up for it!’ enthusiastically responded her friend.
‘What? No, surely ... she would never ... would she? What makes you think that?’ said Tessa, doubtfully at first, but with growing interest.
‘Well, just after I finally arrived, the first thing I saw was her chatting to this hot little Asian babe, and she looked like she wanted to just eat her up!’ replied Kirsty, her eyes dancing.
Tessa snorted dismissively. ‘That doesn’t mean anything – she was probably just pleased to see a favourite student.’
Kirsty forged on, by no means daunted by this scepticism: ‘Well, I noticed the Japanese chick was holding her hand ... and then she kissed it – like this’, she added, miming the gesture. ‘You see?’
‘No ... I dunno’, said Tessa, less firmly but still dubious; ‘there could be all sorts of reasons, you’re letting your imagination run away with you ...’
‘Oh, yeah?’ responded Kirsty, who clearly had more up her sleeve. ‘Well, this ain’t my imagination – just after that, I noticed them leaving more or less together, sneaking out when the Principal was looking the other way, like naughty kids. I was intrigued, so I followed carefully after them. They were chatting, and –’ she paused triumphantly, and then resumed: ‘they didn’t leave, but went down the east corridor, y’know, to where the locker rooms are. I peeked round the corner, and Sally unlocked the small exercise gym and they both went in there – holding hands! Anyway, after a few minutes, I went quietly down the corridor – and, guess what?’
‘No – what?!’, exclaimed Tessa, amazed and excited. Kirsty resumed her tale:
‘I tried the door, very gently, but it was locked. I couldn’t see in – but I could hear OK, and I know the sounds made by a woman coming!’
Tessa savoured this amazing revelation, more and more intrigued. Whilst they had not been close friends at school, they had moved in similar circles and she had always got on well with Sally, and liked her. She had noticed at the reunion that the teacher looked smart and fit, with a nice figure ... Tessa felt herself becoming aroused, her nipples stiffening, her stomach fluttering and her pussy dampening. ‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘why not try – who knows where it might lead?’ It would be easy to get in touch with her – she could phone the school, or maybe just wait outside one day, make it seem to be a casual and accidental encounter.
Kirsty was still talking: ‘I tell you, this town ain’t so strait-laced any more! A bit later on, not long before we met, I popped out for a minute to go to the ladies – anyway, I was also curious to see if they were still going at it in the small gym. They weren’t, or at least the light was off and it was all quiet – but, you know the Principal’s office is down that way too? Well, as I went past, I heard someone in there getting it on as well!’ She was suddenly struck by an idea: ‘God – I wonder if it was the new Principal? Wow! – what a pair of tits that babe has got, Christ, I’d love to get my hands on them – she can’t be much older than us, y’know – sheesh, what a figure, I’d eat her out any day of the week!’
This salacious news didn’t produce a similar reaction in her friend, who in truth had been barely listening to it. Tessa was fully occupied by thoughts of Sally Henrikson and her trim fit body – the sporty woman had always had a great ass, and it still looked as pert and firm as ever. For the first time in many years, Tessa felt relaxed and positive. Maybe the corny old phrase about ‘tomorrow being the first day of the rest of your life’ had some truth in it after all. She fondly kissed her one-time lover and re-discovered best friend, snuggled down next to the comfort of her warm soft womanly shape and scent, and drifted off into a contented sleep, determined that she would find out.
And so we come to the end of our sequence of stories, and indeed full circle (see the conclusion to Take One).
I hope you have enjoyed them – if so, then check out my other stories ... to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story.