Chapter 11
Lola's mind snapped back to full efficiency. She did not put herself in a false position by going to the door and calling out: "Who is it?" Instead, she stood in the hall, so that her voice would obviously be coming from the depths of the house, and shouted, as if in irritability: "Okay! Okay! Hold it! I'll be there!"
She hastily put on one of Mike's beautiful old shirts, and winked at the kids, who were hurrying into their clothes. As she tugged on a pair of tightly fitted white shorts, she jerked her thumb at the back door and whispered: "Go out through the ditch. It's dark, and no one can see you, anyhow." To Timmie, who looked very dubious, she said: "It's my belief that you can go home safely. Your mom won't be mad at you. Or, you can stay in the ditch and come back later."
She carried her robe in her hand, to indicate she had had to dress, and yelled again, as she neared the door: "Keep your pants on! I'm coming!"
She opened the door, after turning on the porch light, and eyed an obviously distraught Ellen. It was not in her to be unkind, but she felt a deep resentment toward this old friend, a resentment founded on a number of grounds, chiefly Timmie's mistreatment.
She did not open the screen and invite Ellen in, although that was her first reaction. To drag her in, hug her and kiss her, shake her thoroughly, and to say: "What's the matter with you, darling? Why have you stayed away so long?" But she did not.
She was coolness itself as she said: "Well, surprise, surprise! Look who's here! The reformed swinger. What can I do for you, Miz Shelton?"
The small woman with the voluptuous body, well displayed in T-shirt and stretch pants, narrowed her eyes. "I have an idea you're hiding my boy," she said in a flat voice. "I want him."
"Well, he's a nice-looking kid," Lola observed. "I don't blame you for wanting him. If you think I've got him, why don't you swear out a warrant and have me arrested? Then I could sue you and Larry."
The woman on the porch looked away, and Lola knew that Ellen had thought of all these things. Her soft heart got the best of her.
She unlatched the screen and said: "Come on in. Why would you think I have Timmie? Come in! Come in! You don't have to get a warrant. I can't say we're old friends, but we once were. Why should I want to see you hurt?"
Ellen edged in, her eyes darting all over the living room. Lola watched, smiling. She waved at the rest of the house. "Look around."
She stumbled blindly, braced herself on a big chair, and said: "Oh, God, Lola, don't make sport of me! I deserve it. Maybe. But I can't stand it, right now! If I've lost Timmie, I think I'll kill myself!" her voice was hoarse, croaking, near to tears.
Lola remained firm, although her arms ached to take the solid little woman in her arms and comfort her. "He's sort of young to run away from home. No job skills. Couldn't join the Navy. Where could a kid that age go?"
Ellen did not look up. She was obviously under great emotional strain. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples stood out, hard as .45 caliber bullets. "That's why I came here," she said in a low voice. "He always loved you. Lola, for God's sake, tell me! Do you know where he is? Please, please! Where else could he go?"
Lola said: "I asked you that, remember?" but her voice was soft. "It's the real question. Why can't he go home? WHY?" she almost shouted the one-word question. "Maybe you don't want to go into that. Maybe the reason he can't come home is the same reason why he left."
The small woman stood as tall as she could, then turned blindly toward Lola. She took two staggering steps and fell on the soft, warm, resilient breasts, feeling their voluptuous nakedness under the fine cloth of the shirt. Some instinct made her nuzzle like a suckling child, and Lola held her old friend tightly, then steered her toward the kitchen.
After she got Ellen in a chair, she poured a cup of coffee and brought her a bottle of brandy. Without comment, she added an ounce of the clear, golden liquor to the strong, hot coffee. "Drink it," she ordered tersely. "Pull yourself together. Tim's all right."
Humbly, without looking up, the woman took the coffee mug in both hands, obviously making an effort to handle it without spilling.
"I'm not supposed to touch this stuff," she said. "Even the coffee. My church, you know." She smiled apologetically. "I sometimes wonder how God can keep track of so many millions of trifling things, happening every day. Credit for the good, debit for the bad." She laughed tremulously. "That was good. Thanks, Lola." She wrinkled her small, straight nose. "Smells good in here," she said, like a sleepwalking child. "But you always did smell good, Lola. And so did your house. I remember." And her dark eyes filled with tears.
There was no doubt of what she smelled. Lola was as excited as a virgin bride, or as a scientist on the brink of discovery. She knew that the small woman smelled sex, raw sex. After yesterday and last night and today-especially the past hour-it had to be the warm perfume of fucking, of hot cunt and skinned-back cock, of sweated crotch and ass-crease and armpit. In spite of the tight shorts, she could smell herself. But there was another smell, and one she had never forgotten. Ellen's cunt.
She made no bones about it. She stood up and moved around to the little woman whose spirit seemed, somehow, to have been chastened by her ordeal of the past twenty-four hours. When she was an inch away from Ellen, Lola spoke quietly: "What smells good, Ellen? What is that perfume you notice? You and I, we always loved it!"
The turnabout, physically, emotionally, mentally, was complete, Lola found herself with a tearful, warm-breathing face buried in her soft belly, just at the hairline of her splendidly flowing pussy, just where the musky sweetness of her cunt would be strongest. Ellen's hands went around her waist, slipped down to her full, smooth buttocks, the fingers suddenly gripping into her flesh, right where it was the most sensitive.
"Oh, God!" came the muffled cry from Lola's crotch. "Help me! Help me to do what's right! Oh, Lola, forgive me, darling! If you can forgive these harsh, hateful, dishonest years!" Her face was actually burrowing into the blonde woman's crotch, and Lola could feel Ellen's hot, moist breath on the raw nerves where her fat cunt had been crowded open by the swelling of blood-crawling inner lips.
Very surely, in no hurry, she put her arm around the small form, her hand in Ellen's armpit, so warmly fragrant, and pulled her up. "You come on, baby," she said in a low voice that almost cracked. "You've started back to being human. Let's go all the way."
There was a childish anxiety to please in the chubby little brunette's every action. Very docilely, she held her arms up while Lola shucked the T-shirt over her head. Her titties, freed from restraint, bounced and jiggled in their rosy weight as the shirt came up and off, and Lola said: "Ohhhhhh! They're so sweet!" and bent briefly and got her full, wet lips over a hard nipple, sucking so hard that Ellen screamed blindly, her compact body trying to rise.
And then, without being told, she lay back with her beautiful legs in the air, her eyes tightly shut but her face calm and happy as Lola pulled her stretch pants off.
There was so much of unspoken love in the room that Lola felt a deeply spiritual lift. "Your God-or maybe it's mine-must love us a lot to give us this," she said chokingly, dropping to her knees to kiss the hot little brunette right in the musky center of the dark bush of cunt hair. She rooted with her nose, knowing what she was looking for. And Ellen, her heart sudenly freed of coldness and spite, flooded with love and warmth and that strong, sweet, clear juice that flows so thickly from a woman's vagina, met Lola's seeking mouth with a loving, frantically eager push.
For a second or two, as Lola, her own heart overflowing, sucked as hard as she could, Ellen simply thrashed on the bed. Then, very gently, she took her old friend's face between her hands, leaned down as Lola's head came up, and kissed the lovely blonde on her ripe lips, tasting the acrid-sweet slickness of her own cunt.
Then she let go, hunched her softly swelling ass across the bed, and said: "It's no fair if only one can play."
She was full of love to the bursting point as Lola hastily and gracefully kneed her way over the brunette's sweet little face. Ellen spread her own chubby, beautiful thighs, closing her eyes for the deep, spine-tickling thrill of having her sweetest friend diving into her muff of hair, her tasty, juicy, fleshy pudding of hotly leaking labia, and her fuck hole.
As the delicious blow struck into her engorged lips, swollen with blood and tautly pleading nerves, she locked her arms around Lola's soft, lovely rump, raising her craving mouth to the pinkly oozing tissues that lay between the blonde furred cunt lips.
Heaven! Pure heaven! Taste and softness, slickness and warmth, the sweet-salt clarity of body-heated pussy juice, better, more lovable, than she remembered. And then, as Lola's body began to shake, and the big clitoris hardened right at her lips, the wet-lipped little woman joyfully gave Lola what she needed-love, orgasm, reconciliation, and, in giving to her friend, she gave the same treasures of cuntal delight to herself.
They lay clasped for a long time, each content to lie with her face between the other's smoothly warm thighs, to let their pink tongues slide playfully between cum-slopped cunt lips that might have been sated, but were still alive with warmth and feeling.
"You know," Ellen's voice came from down around Lola's twat, "I'm glad I didn't find Timmie here. Know why? Because I'd have had to take him home. Meaning, I'd have to leave," she giggled. "I wouldn't have liked that!"
Lola squeezed with her vaginal muscles, nipping the smaller woman's tongue. "Terrible!" she murmured. "Glad you didn't. But if you think you know what Timmie needs, and if you think you can give it to him, I can tell you where he is."
There was a gasp, a struggle, but the bigger woman closed her warm, soft thighs about the other's face. "Easy, there," she smiled. "I think if you went home right now, you'd find your boy right there. Maybe, even, in your bed. You see, darling," she said, and released Ellen, who sat upright, her face one big question mark, "I know what you need and what Timmie needs. I don't know about Larry." She left this statement hanging in the air, sounding like a question.
Ellen sat up on the bed, her arms clasping her tender breasts.
"I want you," she said thickly. "I've done without you too long. The hell with Larry. He's leaving me. Surprised? I couldn't live his lies any longer. I'm going to be a half-owner of Miz Price's store. Oh, baby, it's a gold mine! And I'll just simply love that little old Timmie to death! You knew," she said. "He told you!" she smiled. "I don't care, though, and I know you don't."
She threw herself on the soft, warm body of her old friend, gaily squeezing one of Lola's beautiful titties, sucking the nipple, ramming her soft little hand into the blonde's softly spilling cunt. She held her big friend between her beautiful legs, fucking hard against the firmness of soft muscle. Her hand sawed in the warm, slick, juicy cunt, making Lola fuck back, making her scream a little.
She turned like a crafty little animal, which she was, burying her sweet face in the widely opened lips. She sucked, then looked up.
"How beautiful things can be," she said, tears in her eyes. "Oh, I'll never get enough of this!" and she sucked again, hard and sweet.
Lola held the little woman's fat, delightfully aroused pussy.
"What about Timmie?" she asked.
Ellen fucked at the blonde's face. "Fuck Timmie," She said. He's a big boy. And I have an idea that he's had a fair share of sex. For the moment." She applied her mouth to the pinkly slick, softly pulsing closure of the blonde's fuck hole, sucking hard, getting a mouthful of that delightful vaginal flow.
"Besides," she boasted, "I can suck you inside out, make you beg for mercy, and still have enough heat in my pussy to burn that little old kid to a cinder!" she laughed. "I'll bet you a million!"
Lola laughed, things were going so right, so beautiful, in a world not always rose-colored. She humped into the seeking, merry, cum-smeared face, burrowed her own mouth deep into the fragrant runny split.
Her nose was buried in the aromatic crease of Ellen's butt, so full of the promise of good times to come. She laughed triumphantly and sucked hard, the raised her head.
"Put your money where your mouth is, baby," she murmured.