Chapter 2
"Hi, Mom," Jason called as he banged in through the back door.
"Hi, yourself. How'd the game go?" Joyce's gaze flickered over her son casually.
"We won," he answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "What's for dinner?"
"Spaghetti."
"Hi, Son, how'd it go?" Paul asked heartily as he hurried into the kitchen.
"Great. But I thought you were going to be there, Dad."
"I'm sorry, Son, but I just couldn't make it. Something came up at the last minute." Paul put his arm around Jason's shoulders. "Tell me all about it."
As her husband and son left the kitchen, Joyce reflected that something certainly had come up. About seven hot, hard inches had come up, in fact. The feeble attempt at a joke made Joyce's lips quirk sourly. Then she frowned. The thing Paul has going with that little strumpet Patty must really be something for it to make him miss one of Jason's games. Or maybe not, Joyce amended. Maybe Paul was no more devoted to Jason than he was to her. Maybe his interest in Jason was a sham, just like his loving attitude toward his wife was. Joyce started to set the table.
"Hi, Mom," Judy bubbled, sailing through the back door. "Can I help?"
Joyce darted a brief glance at her daughter. For a frightening second, she saw Patty Conklin, rather than Judy, and shivered. Then the vision was gone, leaving just Judy standing by the stove, peering into the steaming pot. Joyce felt a small surge of pride and affection toward her daughter. She was slender and beautiful. She had inherited her sandy-blonde hair from her mother, her dark eyes from her father.
"Hi, Honey," Joyce said, finding her voice. "Why don't you go get washed up? I'm almost done here."
Judy bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Joyce to puzzle over the slight flush in her daughter's cheeks. Shrugging, Joyce decided the girl must've been running.
Surprisingly, the evening passed normally. Joyce did nothing to indicate what shattering jolts she had experienced that day. Only after she was in bed next to her husband did she let any change appear in her routine. Then, after turning out her light, she rolled to her left side instead of her right, so her back was toward her husband. She immediately dropped off to sleep.
On Sunday, as usual, they all went to church, Joyce on one end, Paul on the other, the two teen-agers in the middle. They stood and sang, knelt and prayed. Joyce decided that never before had there been two more hypocritical bookends for a family than her husband and herself.
Monday brought the relief of having her family dispersed. Paul was off to turn a buck at the office, Judy and Jason to school, the waning days of the spring term. The house was hollow. In her bedroom, Joyce let her robe drop and stood in front of the full-length mirror, studying her body critically. Lifting her arms, she studied the curve of her breasts, the line of her ribs. She pinched the slight layer of fat on her tummy, and frowned. She hadn't realized it was so thick. And there were bulges at the tops of her thighs that she'd never noticed. And her buttocks looked just a little saggy. She sighed. She had to admit, that although she wasn't old, she was a little out of shape. Joyce scanned the bookshelves until she found the book of exercises she wanted.
The only room with enough open space to work out in was the basement playroom. Joyce felt her stomach turn over as she went down the stairs. She thought she could see a stain on the floor from Patty's spilled beer, and a dark splotch of dried cum on the couch, but a shake of her head dispelled the illusion. She tossed the book on the couch and stretched out on the floor. The rug felt cool against her naked skin. She hadn't bothered to dress.
She was halfway through the exercises she'd set for herself, when she heard a voice upstairs. "Come on down to the basement, Barbara," she called out.
"What in the world are you doing in the...." Her neighbor's voice trailed off as she came down the stairs.
"Exercising," Joyce panted. "Care to join me?"
Bending down, the woman picked up the exercise book and studied it.
"Come on; it'll be good for you," Joyce urged, not wanting to exercise alone.
Barbara dropped the book and reached for the belt of her robe. "Really think I need it?" she asked proudly. She opened the robe and let it slide down her arms and off. Then she posed like a model, one foot slightly forward, with the toe pointed.
Joyce looked up the entire length of her neighbor's nude body. There wasn't a spare ounce on her. Barbara was tall, about five-foot ten, and trim, despite broad shoulders and a good-sized waist. Her breasts were firm, perfect hemispheres, with neat, dark nipples. Her skin was pale, and spotted with freckles where the sun could get at it.
"No, I guess you don't, really," Joyce admitted. From where she was, she could see right up into Barbara's dark-red pubic hair. Try as she would, Joyce couldn't tear her eyes away from the dark crevice. "But I need it," she added at last.
"I'll watch," Barbara said easily, settling on the couch without bothering to put her robe back on.
Joyce felt a weird tremor at the sight of Barbara sitting nude right where Paul had been ramming his cock into the pussy of a fifteen-year-old girl. Joyce rolled to her side, her back to the couch, and began her leg lifts. As she worked up a mild sweat, she decided her world was becoming inundated by naked bodies.
Rolling over, Joyce began to exercise her other leg. She was facing the couch now, and couldn't avoid looking directly at Barbara.
Barbara licked her lips as she stared at Joyce. Her eyes looked strange. Joyce noticed that her neighbor was sitting with one ankle crossed over her knee, like a man would sit. The position left Barbara totally exposed. And, as Joyce watched, Barbara slid her hand down to her red bush and pressed her fingers into her pussy.
Joyce was flabbergasted. She suddenly realized that her leg lifts were exposing her as completely as Barbara was exposed by her position. Joyce felt a sudden, surprising surge of warmth in her crotch. She felt her nipples stiffen unexpectedly. Barbara was staring at her hungrily.
Barbara licked her lips and swallowed. "This reminds me of my college days," she observed, in a peculiar throaty tone.
"Your ... college days?" Joyce asked hesitantly, stopping her leg lifts.
"My roommate was almost as beautiful as you," Barbara went on, her voice dreamy. "She was young and tender, and oh, so sweet."
Joyce was simultaneously flattered by Barbara's comparison, and shaken by the turn the conversation was taking.
"She was a lighter blonde than you," Barbara continued softly, "And her pussy didn't have as much hair as yours does."
Joyce, suddenly extremely self-conscious, cupped her hand over her crotch.
Barbara was sliding her finger deep into her cunt as she stared dreamily down at Joyce. Barbara uncrossed her legs, spread her thighs wide, and slumped down until the back of her neck rested on the back of the sofa. Her ass was half-off the couch. She kept petting her pussy with her right hand, and began to pull her nipples with her left.
"We used to ... enjoy each other so much," Barbara whispered raggedly. "God, those days were good. Oh, God!"
Barbara suddenly convulsed, her muscles knotting as she dug her fingers deep into her pussy. Her eyes squeezed shut, the redhead chewed on her lower lip. A gush of juices oozed over the fingers of her right hand.
Joyce stared at her neighbor wonderingly. She'd never seen anything like it before in her life. Expecting to feel disgust, Joyce was astonished at the increasing feeling of excitement that was bringing a lump to her throat. The hand she was using to shield her crotch suddenly shifted and she pressed one finger in an attempt to scratch the peculiar itch in her cunt. Instead of relieving the itch, the attention only increased it. Joyce pulled her finger away from her pleasure center.
Barbara shook herself, and opened her eyes. She didn't pull her hand away from her crotch, but left her fingers there.
"Sorry," she apologized innocently.
"It's ... all right," Joyce answered, her voice catching. "I didn't realize you were ... that way."
"What way? Oh, you mean a Lesbian? I'm not," Barbara said quickly.
"But you just said...."
Barbara looked at Joyce closely. "Didn't you ever experiment?"
Joyce shook her head. "Huh-uh, never."
"Oh, come on, you must have," Barbara insisted.
"Never, honest," Joyce argued, suddenly on the defensive.
"I don't believe you."
"Really, I'm telling the truth. I've never done anything like ... that."
"Well, I'll be damned," Barbara grunted, finally believing Joyce. "Will wonders never cease? A delightful morsel like you never having a Lesbian experience. I didn't think it was possible."
"Well, I haven't," Joyce insisted.
"Oh, I believe you," Barbara assured her quickly.
Joyce contemplated the situation. Then she gathered her courage. "Is it, uh, fun?"
Barbara looked surprised. "Of course it's fun. Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know," Joyce admitted. "I always thought it would be sort of disgusting."
Barbara shrugged. "I suppose it could be, if you think about sex that way. Personally, I've never thought anything about sex is disgusting."
"Is it better than men?"
"Good heavens, no!" Barbara exclaimed, astonished. "At least, not for me. I suppose for a real dyke, it is. God, no, it's just a nice diversion, is all."
"Oh." Joyce turned this idea over thoughtfully. "Do you still, uh, do it?"
Barbara had taken her hand out of her pussy, sat up and crossed her legs demurely. She had draped her arms along the back of the couch. "I haven't in years," she stated. "Haven't really had the opportunity." Comprehension suddenly dawned. "Are you angling toward what I think you're angling toward?"
Joyce blushed in confusion and embarrassment. "Oh, no, of course not."
"Oh, yes, you are," Barbara crowed. "Don't lie to me. You are so."
"No, I'm not," Joyce lied. "I'm just ... curious."
"Just curious," Barbara echoed. "I thought you said it was disgusting."
"Well, I thought it was," Joyce admitted. "But I could be wrong." She could hardly tell her neighbor that what she'd seen between Paul and Patty, along with her own adulterous experience, had demolished all of her previous notions about sex. And the obvious interest and admiration Barbara was displaying were new proof to Joyce that she was still young and desirable.
"You really do want to try it, don't you?" Barbara observed.
"Uh, yeah," Joyce admitted at last, picking at the rug.
"Huh!" Barbara snorted, making her breasts jiggle. "Well, it was going to be kind of a slow, dull day today."
"You mean you will!" Joyce exclaimed, looking up at Barbara hopefully.
"Why not? I didn't have anything else to do this morning," Barbara agreed easily, as if she were discussing a game of cards or a shopping trip. She eyed Joyce speculatively. "Sounds like fun."
"Oh, my goodness," Joyce gulped.
Barbara slid down from the couch to the floor. "You're not going to back out now, are you? Not after you got me all stirred up."
Joyce fought down the urge to run away. "Of course not," she retorted, more bravely than she felt. "N ... now come here and k ... k ... kiss me," she stuttered. She puckered up and closed her eyes.
For a long, agonizing, frightening moment, nothing happened. Joyce squeezed her eyes tighter shut. She was terrified nothing was going to happen. She was sure nothing was going to happen. She'd made a complete fool of herself. She was going to open her eyes, and Barbara would be gone, having left her alone looking like an idiot. Or worse, she was going to open her eyes and Barbara would still be there, and would be laughing at her.
The touch of Barbara's hands on her shoulders sent a welcome shiver of relief through Joyce. The touch of the other woman's lips against hers drained the fear of rejection out of her instantly.
Joyce's fear was replaced by warmth, and the heat of the kiss grew and swelled, turning from the friendly-greeting peck of two neighbors to the searing heat of lovers devouring each other. Letting Barbara be the guide, Joyce followed along, savoring the steadily increasing violence of her feelings. She let Barbara's tongue invade her mouth, tasted the coffee and cigarettes on her breath. She also tasted ... different from a man.
A peculiar jolt of realization flushed through Joyce without disturbing her growing passion. She hadn't even kissed the man she'd had on Saturday!
Then the thought was pushed away by the growing intensity of Joyce's passion. Hesitantly, blindly, her lips still locked to Barbara's, her eyes still sealed shut, Joyce reached out. Her seeking fingers bumped against Barbara's lower torso. Joyce slid her hands around Barbara, marveling at the smooth, hairless softness of the woman's skin. Barbara felt so totally different from a man, Joyce didn't have to remind herself that she was kissing a woman.
Joyce felt Barbara's hands slide down from her shoulders to her ribs, and goose pimples rippled up her spine. Barbara's hands slid inward, below Joyce's breasts, and Joyce straightened her spine to make her breasts stand out more. Barbara's hands slid up to lift and weigh Joyce's breasts, and Joyce was sure she was going to melt down into a helpless puddle. Barbara brushed her thumbs over Joyce's nipples, and Joyce felt as if her breasts had been dipped in molten metal, molten metal that poured into her, coursing through her veins.
With an uncontrollable moan, Joyce broke the kiss and let her head snuggle into the curve of Barbara's neck. Her eyes opened and she found herself looking down the smooth, pale, freckled expanse of Barbara's back.
Barbara toyed with Joyce's breasts for a marvelously long time. Then she slid her hands around Joyce's back and guided her to a lying position on the rug on the hard floor. Sinking down with her, Barbara settled in the circle of Joyce's arms and pressed the full length of her body against Joyce's. Soft breast met soft breast, smooth thigh slid over smooth thigh, and Joyce was in a wild, wonderful new world.
As she pressed herself against Barbara's feminine softness, Joyce catalogued all the wild differences, all the smells and the sounds. And above all else, the only roughness touching her, other than the rug, was Barbara's bristly patch of pubic hair. Barbara was grinding her crotch against Joyce's smooth, sensitive thigh. Joyce responded by pushing her thigh hard up into Barbara's cunt. Joyce ground her own excited, sticky, hairy pussy against Barbara's thigh.
Locking her arms around Barbara's well-muscled body, Joyce writhed against her. She could feel her breasts meeting Barbara's in a contest of softness. She could feel Barbara's smooth belly against hers, feel the arch of Barbara's pubic bone grinding against her thigh.
At the same time, Joyce was savoring the feeling of her clit grinding against Barbara's thigh. Wriggling against Barbara, she lifted herself higher and higher. She was soaring up to a climax that was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was a searing fire that bathed her entire body in pleasure. And there wasn't any penetration involved! Her cunt was empty, chaste. She was coming without a cock, or anything in her body at all. Joyce let the orgasm burst over her, pushing herself against Barbara's body as hard as she could. As she came like a fountain, pouring juices out over Barbara's thigh, she instinctively sank her teeth into Barbara's shoulder.
Joyce was dimly aware of Barbara frantically scrubbing her hairy pussy along her thigh. She heard Barbara panting as her hips writhed desperately. Then there was a new, sticky-hot feeling on her thigh, and Joyce knew that Barbara was coming.
Joyce clung to her neighbor as her orgasm slowly faded and died, leaving her limp. Then she lifted her head to give Barbara a warm thank-you kiss.
Barbara brought her mouth down on Joyce's like an avenging angel. All the fires Joyce thought had died blazed back to life in a few magnificent split seconds as Barbara drove her tongue deep into Joyce's mouth. Joyce responded vigorously with her own tongue and teeth and lips.
All at once, Barbara's hands seemed to be everywhere on Joyce's body, seeking and stroking, touching wild, unexpected places. Joyce's body came to life in a series of flickering brush fires that rapidly became a conflagration roaring through her, an inferno of lust. Learning every second, Joyce responded with her own sensitive fingers, tracing exciting lines and paths over Barbara's smooth, sweat-slicked skin.
Joyce found another wild, wonderful new difference between Barbara's body and a man's. There was a subtle layer of fat beneath the skin, cushioning the sleek muscles, padding Barbara out in a marvelously exciting way. Where a man was muscular-hard, Barbara was muscular-soft.
It was magnificent.
Joyce let Barbara push her on her back, extending her arms to maintain contact with the glorious redhead. Joyce feasted her eyes on her neighbor's body, feeling she was truly beginning to appreciate the sleek beauty of another woman. Joyce reached out to touch and measure Barbara's firm, shapely breasts. At the same time, she left herself totally open to Barbara's hands and eyes, thrilling to the way the redhead petted and admired her.
"You are a beauty," Barbara sighed happily. "You're soft and warm and young and beautiful."
Joyce started to reply, but Barbara put a finger on her lips.
"No, shhh." Barbara hissed. "Don't say anything. I'll bet you taste as delicious as you look."
Joyce felt a tremor of fear and shock temper her lust. She bit her lower lip nervously as she watched Barbara slowly turning and lowering her head toward her crotch. She'd never had anyone do anything like this to her in her life!
Joyce felt Barbara's hot breath on her belly and began shaking. She felt Barbara's face brushing against her pubic hair and shivered, digging her fingers into the carpet.
Barbara's tongue invaded Joyce's slit, and Joyce thought she was going to die with the pleasure it brought. A volcano of lust roared through her, ringing a wordless cry out of her. Joyce's muscles jerked and convulsed as Barbara bored her tongue into her pussy.
Barbara was moving, shifting, creeping around, even while she was drilling her tongue into Joyce's cunt. Joyce knew what her neighbor was doing, knew what was coming, knew what was expected of her, and quailed at the thought. Barbara was lifting one knee over Joyce's face, and Joyce was helping her, guiding her even while her stomach was knotting with a wrenching combination of lust and fear.
Joyce found Barbara's knees on either side of her head. She was staring up into Barbara's red bush and could see the glistening tissues of the redhead's excited pussy. Joyce wrapped her arms around Barbara's thighs, gripped the woman's firm, shapely buttocks, and drew her cunt downward toward her mouth. Licking her lips nervously, Joyce tried to prepare herself for what was coming. The room was slowly being blocked out by Barbara's descending body.
There was a wild new smell pouring into Joyce's nostrils, the smell of a healthy, clean woman. Joyce's mouth watered.
And all the while, Barbara's tongue was driving Joyce wild.
Joyce pressed her lips to Barbara's pussy, feeling the way the labia moved aside to make a funnel guiding her deeper and deeper. Joyce slid her tongue deep into the hot, wet, sticky folds of Barbara's cunt, and almost choked with excitement. Joyce was coming, pouring waves of juice into Barbara's sucking mouth. Joyce was fucking Barbara's cunt with her tongue, tasting the wild, metallic saltiness of Barbara's secretions, smelling the innermost secrets of Barbara's body. Joyce was eating Barbara out with total abandon, desperately eager to trigger the gush of juices that would fill her mouth, frantic to give Barbara the same fantastic pleasure she herself was experiencing.
Wrapping her arms around Barbara's thighs, Joyce trapped the redhead's hips, crushing them down to her, grinding her nose into Barbara's steaming crotch. Joyce stroked the length of Barbara's pussy with her tongue, until she felt Barbara begin to writhe frantically on top of her. Joyce felt hot, sticky juices pour out of Barbara, and slurped them up hungrily, her lips working wildly over the turgid inner lips of the redhead's cunt. She didn't leave any nook or cranny of Barbara's cunt unexplored.
Locked in a wild, tangled knot of passion, heads to crotches, the two women came and came and came.
The world began to spin around Joyce, her consciousness began to fade, and her lungs ached. Barbara's streaming cunt was smothering her! Passion was replaced with panic, and Joyce shoved at Barbara, pushing her up and off, driving her away.
Light suddenly flooded Joyce's eyes and she gratefully gulped a huge breath of fresh air. Her muscles slowly relaxed, leaving her limp and panting. Her excitement declined, finally fading to just a memory. Joyce felt Barbara's juices drying, cold and sticky, on her cheeks and chin and licked some of them off while she lay there panting.
"Oh, my," Barbara groaned from beside Joyce.
"Wow," Joyce sighed.
Silence.
"I need a shower," Joyce said at last, rolling slowly to a sitting position.
"Mind if I join you?" Barbara asked. "Be my guest."
Soon the two of them were bumping slickly together under the spray, giggling insanely. Trading the soap back and forth, they lathered each other down, sluicing away the sweat and cum and triggering new warmth in each other. They pressed their soapy bodies together, their hands seeking each other's secret inner recesses. Joyce happily humped herself on Barbara's finger. She pumped her own finger in and out of the redhead's cunt until a new wave of cum displaced the lather on her hand. They clung together as their orgasms washed over them.
It wasn't until the hot water was running out that they finished their shower.
"I didn't finish my exercises," Joyce commented as she let Barbara dry her back.
"Huh, as if you cared," Barbara retorted. "Besides, you got more exercise this way."
"I'll say I did."
"What got into you anyway?" Barbara asked as they made their way back down to the basement to get their robes.
"What do you mean?" Joyce asked innocently, tying her belt.
Barbara looked at Joyce speculatively. "You've never been exactly what I would call wild, you know. You never experimented sexually. Something happened to change you."
"Nonsense," Joyce tried to argue, knowing that her neighbor was right.
"It's not nonsense," Barbara retorted. "Come on, give. Something must've happened. Did you just have a birthday or something?"
"You know my birthday was six months ago," Joyce argued, trying to head Barbara off.
"Well then, what did happen?" Barbara insisted.
"I just felt like maybe I was missing something," Joyce lied.
Barbara quirked her lips in disbelief, still studying Joyce. Then she shrugged and turned toward the stairs. "Okay, have it your way. I've got to be getting home. I only came over to borrow some sugar."
"Help yourself on the way out. I think I'll finish my exercises."
Barbara paused on the stairs. "I'd swear that all of a sudden you were afraid of getting old."
"I'm not getting old," Joyce flared sharply.
"Sweetie, we're all getting old," Barbara observed philosophically. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Joyce replied half-heartedly. She tried unsuccessfully to deny the truth of what Barbara had said. Then she stiffened her resolve. She wasn't getting old. And she was going to make Barbara, Paul, and everyone else regret even thinking that she was. She began exercising with renewed resolve.