Chapter 7
Thursday a letter came for Lori. The return address and the name of the sender were my own.
I tore it open, knowing that it was news from home from my sister. The suspense was killing me so much that the paper rattled when I first tired to steady it before my eyes.
"Dear Sis," my twin's handwriting began. "I guess you're wondering how I'm getting along with Rick..." Excited, I skipped ahead for some revealing details. I knew that if anything had happened, Lori would not hesitate to call a spade a spade.
But there was nothing that caught my eye. Even backtracking the text didn't help.
Finally I calmed down enough to read the entire letter from start to finish. To my astonishment, it was dull as dishwater. As it turned out Lori claimed to be getting along with my husband by going bowling with him.
"And Friday I'm going to surprise him with corn fritters instead of meatloaf," she wrote on. "I talked to Puck's mother on the phone and she told me he loved them when he was a boy."
When she started writing about what Rick must have been like as the little boy his mother had mentioned, I gave up and crumpled the letter into a ball. I was seething with frustration as I slam-dunked it into the waste basket.
The phone rang while I was still fidgeting. Believe me, I was grateful for the interruption. Anything to take my mind off what was or what wasn't happening back home in the suburbs.
"Hello," I answered, "Cra ... uh, Morgan residence." Whew, I had to watch it.
"Mrs. Morgan?"
"Ms.," I corrected the voice on the other end of the line, proud of my newly found independent status as a woman.
"Oh, I see," the voice responded as though its owner were hurriedly writing something down. "Well, Ms. Morgan, this is your daughter's school. Sandra Morgan is your daughter, I resume."
I said she was.
"Well, we must see you as soon as possible, Ms. Morgan." "Trouble?" I bleated before I could suppress it. "We'll have to discuss it," I was cut off. "I'll be expecting you at two this afternoon. Just ask for Gertrude Robbins, vice-principal of girls."
So now I had something new to worry about. By the time I hung up the phone, Lori's letter was gone from my mind and I was wondering what kind of problems Sandy was having at school. Remembering something her mother had said Tuesday on the phone, I decided it must have to do with her cutting classes.
Getting ready for my appointment with the vice-principal, I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. How should I dress?
Finally I decided that the welfare of the child involved came first. How would Sandy fare in today's competitive world without a high school diploma?
Lori's closet contained a cedar chest full of old clothes that she'd apparently saved to remind her of the suburban past she'd fled. She even had girdles and bras in there, something I never thought I'd find on her premises.
Well, I took advantage of it, that's for sure. Anchored by the sturdiest foundation garments I could wriggle into, I muffled myself in a blocky tweed suit Lori must have bought that winter ten years ago it was so bitterly cold in the suburbs. When I pulled my hair back, believe me, I looked like a middle-class witch.
Deciding that the Vespa would not be appropriate, I took a taxi to my appointment. As I walked up the steps of the school and felt my girdle pinch, I was brimming with confidence that I could handle the vice-principal.
"I'm here to see Gertrude Robbins," I told the woman at the desk.
"Are ... are you her sister?" the secretary stammered.
"I beg your pardon."
"I'm sorry," she blushed. "It's just that you look so much like the vice-principal. I should have checked my appointment schedule."
She looked self-consciously downward, burying her nose in the pages of a memorandum book. "Oh yes, here it is, two o'clock. You must be Lori Morgan, Sandra's mother. The vice-principal is expecting you in her office. I'll show you the way."
She got up from her desk and escorted me to an office down the hall. "Listen, I'm really sorry about that mistake I made back there," she said at the door. But it's just that you and the vice-principal look so much alike I just ... just assumed ..."
"Forget it," I said, and walked into the office.
Even I was stunned by the resemblance. With my clunky clothing, hair in a tight bun, and some reading glasses I'd worn for effect, I looked more like Gertrude Robbins' twin sister than Lori's. In my current get-up, looking into the vice-principal's face was like seeing my reflection in a mirror.
She must have noticed it, too. However, she was not the sort to show emotion and confined herself to a couple of deep breaths before she asked me to sit down.
Robbins was a haughty bitch who sat at her desk like a queen on a throne. Obviously she intended to treat me like one of her wayward subjects.
She didn't even mention Sandy as our conversation started. Instead, she zeroed right in on me.
"Let us dispense with this trendy Ms. nonsense," she bit into her words. "Are you Miss or Mrs. Morgan?"
"Miss."
"Have you ever been married?"
"Yes, of course. To Sandra's father."
"I see," she said skeptically. "How did you happen to revert to your maiden name if you were legally married as you say?"
This called for some improvising I hadn't anticipated. "The marriage was an unhappy experience," I said. "After the divorce, I wanted to forget all about it."
"Did you want to forget about the marriage, Miss Morgan, or men?" she asked as though it was her right to know everything about me.
"What does this have to do with my daughter?" I found myself impulsively standing up to her.
"Everything," she said icily.
"Please explain."
"Children without fathers tend to over compensate for the lack of a male influence in their lives. In other words, they act-out, misbehave. Especially girls."
"And this includes Sandy?" I figured out her line of reasoning.
"Precisely," she smiled like the tutor of a retarded child whose charge has just grasped a simple concept. "Frankly, Miss Morgan, your daughter has the school in an uproar."
Knowing Sandy, I could guess what she'd been up to. Free-spirited as she was from her unconventional upbringing, she was undoubtedly fucking anyone who appealed to her. This could include both faculty and students.
"Sandra is promiscuous," the vice-principal lowered the boom. "And now that I've heard the family history, I can fully understand why. The poor child is so confused by her environment that she can't help herself. It is you, Miss Morgan, whom I hold accountable for all this unfortunate behavior on your daughter's part."
She went on to explain that Sandy had been caught fucking three times on school property. Once with the captain of the football team-the coach was furious; once with the president of the Bible Club; and in a utility closet with the janitor.
The last incident was the final straw.
"We can't have this sort of behavior!" the vice-principal thundered. "Miss Perkins, the librarian who discovered your daughter and the janitor, had to take a week off from work to settle her nerves."
I felt like I was beginning to get some insight into Gertrude Robbins. Beneath that imperious facade there was a crack in the armor I felt I could perceive.
"How did you react to the news of my daughter and the janitor?" I asked.
"I felt it was outrageous conduct!"
"Weren't you just a wee bit jealous, Miss Robbins?"
"I beg your pardon," she gasped, showing real vulnerability for the first time.
"You're not married either, are you Miss Robbins?" I gambled on penetrating her defense even further.
"No," she replied with terse anxiety, obviously wishing this phase of the conversation to go no further.
"And you're living with the librarian, this Miss Perkins." I said it as a statement of fact, not a question.
"Yes," Miss Robbins admitted, her tone remarkably subdued.
"And you're lovers. Lesbians!" I accused. "The reason you're so burnt up about my daughter fucking guys is that she won't make it with you and your dyke roomie. Old Perkins saw that big cock in Sandy's cunt and just got sick that my daughter preferred well-hung guys to you two cockless wonders. When she told you, you blew your top."
"Wha. . .what difference does it make if Miss Perkins and I happen to live together?" Miss Robbins cringed like a cornered rat. "What do you think you're saying?"
"That you and your female lover are pissed off hat Sandy doesn't want to make it with you," I charged.
She bolted up from her chair. Her face was scarlet with the double-effects of embarrassment and rage. Stalking around her desk, she raised her hand with the obvious intent of slapping me.
Not about to have my hard-won dominance of the proceedings terminated because of physical violence, I stood up and stopped the blow by grabbing Miss Robbins' wrist. In the process my elbow banged into her tit. I'm still not sure whether or not it was intentional. "Miss Morgan!" the vice-principal shrieked. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What does it feel like?" I coolly replied, rubbing the hard tip of my elbow back and forth against the tit that was somewhere under all that clothing.
"You're ... you're fondling me!" she continued aghast. "Fondling my bosom!"
"And you love it," I went for broke. "I'll bet your pussy's already soaking wet."
I could tell by the way she automatically rubbed her thighs together that I had hit the nail on the head.
"It's running down your legs, isn't it, Gertrude?" I poured it on. "You can probably feel that hot pussy juice all the way down to your knees by now, can't you, Gertrude?"
She was silent as her face turned red with embarrassment.
"Can't you, Gertrude?"
At first she nodded her head. Then, painfully, she gasped, "Yes ... yes ..."
I looked down toward her feet just in time to see her ankles suddenly flash with wetness. Soon there was a pool of sticky juice forming on the floor.
"You're gushing, Gertrude," I taunted her. "Your cunt must be the size of a water main."
"Please ... please," she begged. "Don't mock me.
"I'm not going to mock you," I grinned. "I'm going to fuck you!"
Her eyes widened to the size of fifty-cent pieces behind the magnifying lenses of her glasses, as I ripped at her blouse. In the jerking motion, her glasses skidded off the end of her nose at the same time her chest was exposed. Encased in a gunwale bra, her pointed tits loomed out toward me like missiles. Above, their owner blinked while she tried to adjust her eyes.
"Why, Miss Robbins," I teased, without your glasses you're beautiful."
I leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. It was quickly expanded when I felt how good my stiff tongue tasted inside her mouth.
As the kiss became deeper and deeper I slid my fingers inside the bra and began squeezing the vice-principal's tits. To my satisfaction they were splendidly firm.
When we backed off for air, she begged me to keep on feeling her up, but I resisted. I had a little game in mind that I wanted to play. It was called Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Fairest One of All?
Since Gertrude Robbins and I were virtually reflected images of one another in our clunky clothes, it would be fascinating to see how we stacked up out of them. The vice-principal had been divested of her glasses and blouse, now it was my turn to match her.
I ripped open my blouse, hearing the ripped buttons roll across the floor. My bra was a battleship, too. After I removed my glasses, I upped the ante by letting down my hair so that it fell in waves across my shoulders.
Seeing that it was her turn, Miss Robbins unpinned her bun. Suddenly her face was framed with a cascade of lustrous curls and for the first time she looked truly beautiful.
Now that her hair was down she had to decide how to up the stakes. What should come off next?
When she chucked off her jacket and the gaping blouse, I was certain she was going to remove her massive bra. However, to my surprise, at the last instant her hands dropped to her waist and she undid her skirt. It abruptly fell in a bunch around her ankles along with her slip.
I got my first look at her girdle. It was a monster. However, what interested me most about it was not its yards of elastic, but its color. The thing was spotlessly white.
Except for a dark crescent of growing proportions right at the crotch. Yes, her cunt was soaking through. I licked my lips.
Quickly my blouse, jacket, slip and skirt were piled at my feet and I was showing off my girdle. To my glee, my stain was just as big and moist as the vice-principal's.
Now it was my turn to make the next move, so I attacked my bra. It was an old-style one, so I broke a couple of fingernails on the clasps in back, but it wouldn't have bothered me if I had sprained my hand ripping it off for the chance to show off my tits.
Looking down, I saw that my jugs were in fine form, despite the imprisonment in the bra. My nipples were crimson, and standing out at least an inch apiece.
Miss Robbins' nervous hands fluttered like birds as they went to her back. Now she was really going to have to show me something besides her formidable wardrobe of underwear.
At last the bra came loose. She slid it modestly down her chest, but she couldn't delay the inevitable for long.
Especially when I became impatient and snatched it away from her quaking bosom. I couldn't wait a second longer to see those bare tits.
They were perfect, if I may say modestly say so, just like mine. And Lori's, of course. So far it was as though the three of us were triplets.
A hunger cried out in me to nestle my face in Gertrude Robbins' cleavage and eat her tits, but I restrained myself. The strip tease still had a little way to go, and the last was certainly not going to be the least.
It was time for Gertrude to remove her girdle and stockings. When she was finished she would be totally nude. Soon after, so would I. My stomach was churning with excited anticipation.
She had a hard time working herself out of the girdle. Skin-tight to began with, at least half of it had become even dingier with the stickiness of pussy juice.
I loved watching the formerly dignified vice-principal bump and grind to get free. She hadn't an ounce of fat on her and sinewy muscles played all over her gorgeous body. God, I hoped I wasn't flattering myself that I looked as good as she did.
Finally the girdle was off, landing in a wet plop somewhere over in a corner. I was looking straight at the bushy triangle of Gertrude's cunt drooling.
Her pussy was beautiful. Looking at it was like looking at Lori's-or mine. What I was seeing now must have been what Lori saw when she and I stripped to make incestuous love.
"You're staring," the vice-principal said something for the first time in a long time. "Aren't you going to take off the rest of your clothing?"
Indeed, I was! Of course, I was going to still continue staring at her tits and cunt every step of the way. Her naked body was hypnotic.
My girdle fought back, but I quickly vanquished its elastic stubbornness. Now I was totally nude, and Gertrude Robbins was staring at me as hard as I was at her.
"Y ... you're my exact double," she gasped, "all the way down to the most intimate parts of our bodies."
"Let's see if we make love the same, too," I panted, and started maneuvering her back toward the desk.
She made no attempt to resist. Obviously she wanted it as badly as I did. When her ass touched the wood, she immediately hoisted herself up on the top of the desk and spread her legs in my face.
Her pussy gaped so openly that I could see all the way inside her. Its ripe scent made my nostrils flare and eyes water. "Mmmmmmm," was all I could say.
"Get on top of me and fuck me," she took the initiative for the first time. "Let me feel your cunt pressing against mine."
I was wriggling over her in a second, grinding my pelvis into the well of our thighs. Already my pussy lips were smearing against her vulva, making her quiver with delight. "I'm coming already," she announced. "I've never had a cunt make me come so quickly."
"By the time I'm finished with you, you'll forget you ever made love with any other woman," I confidently replied, tweaking my turgid clitoris against hers.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" she rasped.
"Both!" I declared and sealed her mouth with a deep, deep soul-kiss.
While my rigid tongue traveled down her throat like an oral hard-on, I began to squeeze her perfect tits. Eventually I concentrated on the nipples, turning them black and blue with my fervent pinches.
However, the main action was between our legs. Even though we hadn't the semblance of a cock between us, we were fucking as mightily and intensely as any heterosexual couple.
Oh, it was divine. Our cunts were creaming as they set up a hotter and hotter friction between them. My clit must have felt like a nail gouging her twat, because hers sure did as it ripped my ultra-sensitive labia.
When we broke our soul-kiss she told me to call her Trudy. I urged her just as strongly to call me Lori.
"Fuck me, Lori, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
"Harder, Trudy, harder. Make me come harder and harder!"
We were twisting, writhing and pumping, two women fucking with perfect friction. No men need apply!
Finally we had come as many times as we could in this position, and moved for a switch. Swiveling around 180 degrees on top of Trudy, I maneuvered myself into the classic sixty-nine position. Now we would start the orgasmic cavalcade all over again from eating each other's cunts.
Trudy's pussy tasted as familiar as I'd thought I would. Just like Lori's when I sucked her twat. Just like mine when I was masturbating and licked my own juice off my fingers. The similarity was a damn absolute miracle!
At my snatch, her rigid tongue poked its way up my fuck-hole exactly as my twin sister's had so many times. The rest of her body may have been off in the suburbs impersonating me, but it sure felt like Lori's tongue was right here up my cunt, and her wet pussy in my face.
I started eating Trudy's snatch like she was eating mine-ravenously, like a wolf of sex. I imagined our teeth as fangs as we ripped into each other's vulnerable, raw pussy flesh.
Then we really put our tongues to work. They became high-speed drills, grooving their hilted inches toward our ovaries. I was coming even harder from sixty-nining than I had during our pussy-fuck. Similar in every way, our bodies were made for each other. Making love for us was as natural as breathing.
The desk was rocking from our efforts when I slid my cunt down to Trudy's tits. There I mouthed the nipples with the loose, soggy lips, fondling her with my sloppy pussy. She loved it and began to moan for more, more.
I shoved one of the stiff nipples up my fuck-hole and started twitching my ass. Trudy was screwing me with her tit and squealing with delight.
After I'd come a few times from this variation, I switched places, as I had been doing so often with look-alikes lately. Now I was working one of my breasts between Trudy's open thighs, inserting the erect nipple between her pouting pussy lips.
"Fuck me, Lori, fuck me!" she cried excitedly. "Fuck me with your big tit!"
I ground it in there, getting more and more of the gland to go inside along with the nipple. Eventually almost a third of my breast was wedged between Trudy's widely stretched labia. Hearkening back to Lori's career as an artist, I considered it a masterpiece of sex. "God, I'm coming, I'm coming so hard!" Trudy yelped. "No one's ever made love to me like this!"
"You've never met my sister," I unwittingly let the cat out of the bag.
"A sister," Trudy breathlessly gasped. "You have a sister? There's another woman on earth like you, Lori?"
I couldn't get out of an explanation now that I had blundered, so I would just have to see it through. "Yes," I told the truth. "Exactly like me. We're identical twins."
Trudy swooned. "Then that means that you and I and she, the three of us are . ... " "The Holy Trinity of sex," I strengthened my position with a wise-crack.
"I've got to meet her," Trudy's mouth watered. "Got to meet her . ... " "Don't worry, I'm sure you will," I knowingly reassured her. "And you and Sandy might be seeing a little more eye-to-eye in the bargain."