Chapter 4
After dinner was over, they moved away from the table and finished what was left of the Martinis. Sherry sat on the huge convertible day-bed that was now made up into a couch, while Margo sat across from her in a big easy chair.
Sherry discovered that along with her other talents, Margo was an interesting conversationalist, since she was able to talk about every subject imaginable--eventually getting around to the topic of sex. Whether or not it was the alcohol freeing her of her inhibitions, Margo began to tell Sherry how she felt about love and men and all the things that went with them. She gave no precise details. But from what she said, it was clear that her estimation of the opposite sex was as low as Sherry's.
As Margo talked, she seemed to grow less and less inhibited, occasionally pulling up the long skirt of her hostess gown and assuming positions that showed Sherry more and more of her legs and thighs. She caught Sherry looking a few times and smiled. Then quite unexpectedly she arose from the chair and lifted her skirt high enough to expose her thighs to what would have been the border of her panties--if she had been wearing panties.
"Do you think I have nice legs, Sherry?" she asked.
As Sherry previously had noted, Margo's legs were a lot fleshier than many people would consider as beautiful with most of the meat concentrated in the thighs. Still they were round and firm and very nicely shaped. Sherry was surprised that looking at another girl's legs could stir her so.
"I think they're very lovely," Sherry replied quite honestly.
Margo let the skirt drop into place, then ran both hands down the front of her well-padded body, smoothing the soft silk of her green gown that already fit like a kid glove. "Do you like me, Sherry--really like me--just a little?"
Sherry's gaze roved Margo's tall, generously proportioned figure, head to toe. "Of course .. . "
Margo crossed to the day bed and sat beside Sherry. Holding her almost empty Martini glass in one hand, she gently stroked Sherry's long, dark hair with the other. "I'm glad you like me, darling. Because I like you--very much."
Sherry felt a strange constriction inside her stomach at the way Margo breathed out the words, low and meaningful. She watched as Margo drained her glass, set it aside on the small table beside the convertible, then faced her again. Margo's eyes looked heavy-lidded, her lips moist and partly opened, so that Sherry could see just a hint of her perfectly matched white teeth.
Margo took Sherry's empty glass from her hands and placed it on the floor. Then she went back to stroking Sherry's silken hair.
"You're very lovely, darling," she whispered.
Sherry tensed. She'd never known a woman to look at her this way before, to speak in the soft, warm tones Margo was using. Through the thinness of the silk gown Margo was wearing, Sherry was suddenly aware of the sweetness of the girl's perfume--a subtle and exotic bouquet which blended perfectly with Margo's heated feminine scent.
Cupping a hand behind Sherry's head and placing the other lightly on her shoulder, Margo gently lowered Sherry backwards onto the cushions of the daybed. Sherry felt suddenly very small and helpless lying there with her breasts partly out of her built-in bra and her short skirt hiked up nearly to her waist, exposing her nylon-clad legs and abbreviated white panties. She looked up and saw Margo hovering over her, eyes hot and starry, breathing heavily. A terrible weakness assailed her as she watched Margo's face come closer.
"Have you ever had a girl make love to you, Sherry?" Margo asked slowly, again breathing the words out.
"No ..."
"Would you like me to make love to you?"
"No ..."
"Why not?"
"It... it isn't nice ..."
"How do you know, darling, if you've never tried it?"
Before Sherry could reply, she felt the other girl's lips on her own. Soft, warm, sweet. Sherry tried to resist but felt her own lips softening, and then opening to accept the eager tongue, taste the honey moistness of another woman's mouth.
Sherry moaned. Beneath her dress she felt her breasts swell, aching with a terrible urgency. Margo's tongue was like nothing she had ever known before, beating like a tender whip against her senses, exciting her to a frightening degree.
She found the strength, somehow, to tear her mouth free and fill her lungs with gobs of much needed air. Her mind was fuzzy, the insides of her thighs moist with awakening desire. She watched as Margo lowered her head and with the merest flick of a finger brushed aside the thin strings from her shoulders and worked the dress down until Sherry's gorgeous breasts were bared.
Sherry felt the heat of Margo's lips scorch the flesh of her throat and shoulders and burn their way to her breasts. Sherry stiffened for an instant then felt herself relax as Margo's tongue brushed over her nipples, then gobbled one of the aroused pink points and pulled hard at it.
Sherry could feel herself pant. "What--what are you doing? Margo--no--you mustn't!"
Margo made no answer, her hands were already pulling down Sherry's white panties, Sherry's firm flesh tightening as her muscles contracted in protest. Sherry put her hands on the redhead's shoulders and tried to push her away.
"Don't fight me, darling," Margo said quietly. "You need me ... I need you."
Sherry stared up into Margo's almost hypnotic green eyes fighting back fear and desire as Margo battled for dominance over her. Sherry began shaking her head from side to side, trying to push backwards away from the other girl. But Margo was in complete control, as she lowered her head again, slowly, to fasten her lips on one of Sherry's enflamed nipples.
Sherry had no recollection as to when Margo peeled her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. She knew only that she was being swept along by a powerful current of emotion against which she was waging a losing battle as she felt Margo's fingers stealing slowly upward over her stockinged thighs onto the smooth satiny flesh. Moving through the heavy dark silk brush that covered her veneris, they began to knead the sensitive flesh in the area with loving caresses.
As the last bulwark of Sherry's resistance broke, she let her thighs open a fraction, giving Margo clear access to fondle the intimate flesh between them. Margo made tiny animal sounds of gratification that her conquest had been made so easily, as she worked her fingers deftly inside Sherry's thighs.
She drew back and shifted a little lower as she began to coax the very tip of Sherry's vulva apart. She could see the intricate folds of inner lips, like a delicate flower wet with heavy dew, bursting into bloom, opening beautifully. The long deep divide sighed into view under the artful petting of Margo's fingers.
Through eyes that were half-shut and glazed with passion, Sherry watched Margo's crimson head like a fireball, dip slowly between her legs. Her body went tight as a bow-string. "No ..."
She felt the warm breath against her secret flesh--then the educated tongue delicately parting the labia to press gently inside. It might have been because it was the first time, or it could have been all the desires and passions that had been stored up inside her these past months, finally allowed to surface. Sherry wasn't sure. She knew only that the sensation Margo's tongue brought her as it moved slowly, front to back and return, the length of her super-sensitive vagina brought her a thrill that she had never known before in her entire twenty-one years. No man or boy she'd ever known had come even close to the intensity of the sensation Margo brought her. Whether it could ever again be duplicated, she had no idea. But for this moment it was the ultimate!
With her legs spread wide and her outstretched hands clawing at the cushions of the daybed, she closed her eyes and threw back her head as Margo found and tongued her clitty and sent voluptuous waves of ecstasy surging through her. Even though this was Sherry's first sampling of lesbian love, she knew she was being done by an expert. There was no question about it, Margo was an out-and-out dyke.
As the waves grew stronger, Sherry knew her climax couldn't be too distant. She lay there, her mouth open like a stranded fish, flailing desperately now and reaching down to bury her fingers in Margo's red mop and forcing the girl's mouth into an even deeper embrace.
Then as Margo lapped faster and faster on the stiff, red clitoris, Sherry felt herself go completely stiff. Her entire body tensed for an eternal moment. . . and then it was as if a time-bomb went off deep inside her belly. A thousand-and-one living fragments crawled through her body and seemed to burst her clitty, filling Margo's mouth with a flood of hot, thick, runny juices.
Margo stayed with her mouth pressed tightly to Sherry's vagina until her orgasm began to abate. Then she drew back and moved up so that she could lie side-by-side with Sherry on the daybed. Slowly, tenderly she put a hand beneath Sherry's chin and turned the girl's head so that they were facing.
"Know what?" Margo murmured, her voice still deep and intense with passion. "I love you, darling."
Sherry saw the love shining undeniably in the green eyes and she knew what Margo had said was true. She wasn't sure of her own feelings at the moment. She was still suffering slightly from the aftermath of the shattering experience her entire system had undergone. But as Margo reached and kissed her, she returned the kiss, touching Margo's slippery wet tongue with her own in a lascivious manner.
Margo didn't rush it. She gave Sherry all the time in the world she needed to recover from her first bout with lesbianism. She even agreed with Sherry that maybe the dark-haired girl was right about going home even though she had invited Sherry to spend the night with her. Margo had every confidence in her own ability to win over a member of her own sex. She knew that Sherry was hooked. There was no question in her mind that Sherry would be back for a second helping--real soon.
She was right. Sherry stayed away over the weekend, arguing with herself that being made love to by another girl, was not her thing. But the feeling that Margo had brought her not only continued to haunt her, it magnified itself out of all proper proportions in her mind, like the fanciful wonders of some dope-induced trip.
Come Monday night, Sherry was back in Margo's apartment like the fly in the well-known parlor. This time there were no subterfuges, no protests or pretending. After dinner and the usual batch of gin and vermouth with a twist of lemon peel, they went into the sensuously decorated bedroom. This was no occasion for a convertible. What they had planned for tonight called for a queen-sized bed.
After they got into the bedroom, they made a real ceremony out of stripping each other nude. Sherry's temples began to pound and every pore in her body oozed perspiration at her first glimpse of Margo's fabulously constructed body. Everything about the girl was king-size. Her legs were long, white and smooth as polished ivory. Her thighs looked as if they might belong to the statue of some Greek colossus that had been chiseled out of marble. Between them was her dense, curly fire-bush with a faint crimson line of down running up to her navel. Her breasts were like two enormous honeydews with huge nipples that pointed downward at a 45-degree angle. With the exception of her emerald eyes, every part of her from head to toe was strawberry red, pink or milk white.
When they got into bed, Sherry to her own amazement found herself reaching out for Margo's enticing, succulent-looking breasts, bringing one of them to her mouth and sucking on the nipple. After Sherry had her fill, Margo, handling her as if she were a baby, turned her over on her back, urged apart her legs and proved to her that the first time was no happenstance. With her tongue, she could send her to the moon--and beyond--anytime she wanted to.
When finally Sherry returned to a reasonable degree of normalcy following her second lunar flight, she found herself possessed by a strange desire--to run her tongue over Margo's naked body. Leaning back on her elbows, so she could watch, Margo offered up herself to Sherry's caresses.
Running her slippery wet tongue over Margo's mammoth breasts, she gradually worked her way down over the redhead's flat belly. Sherry found the delicately scented flesh as soft and sweet as she had imagined it would be. She skirted the rim of fire that was Margo's pubic hair and licked lightly downward over the meaty, well-rounded thighs that Margo had spread apart for her. The first faint musky odor of Margo's womanhood was pleasant to her nostrils and her tongue moved slowly toward the outsized, nether mouth. In the faint light from the lamps at both sides of the bed, the fleshy well, half-concealed in the red foliage, looked wet and tempting.
"You don't have to, darling," Margo whispered tensely, as she fell back against the mattress. "Not if you don't really want to."
That was the funny part of it. Sherry wanted to. She didn't know why. She'd never done such a thing to any other girl--or man, for that matter--in her life. But she wanted to do it now. She hungered to taste the fruits of Margo's sex.
As if by its own volition, her face moved closer and closer to the raw, open trench with its sides stretched wide apart, its complex of vulnerable flesh eagerly yielding up its deepest secrets.
Sherry found herself kissing the very heart of Sherry's female genitalia, pursing her lips and pressing them deep into the core of the girl's precious treasure. Sherry forgot where she was, even the significance of what she was doing. Oblivious to everything else, she was conscious only of the soft scented flesh surrounding her and her almost maniacal desire to bring Margo the same kind of pleasure that Margo had shown her.
Margo began to gyrate her hips, tensing and untensing her loins, thrusting her crotch up more and more urgently against Sherry's furiously working mouth. Sherry sucked with a relentless ardor, shaking her head violently from side to side, her beautifully long hair falling across Margo's thighs and belly--hiding her lesbian actions like a dark silky blanket.
As the bigger girl began to rock and shiver so uncontrollably that it was all Sherry could do to keep her mouth in place. Margo babbled incoherently, threshing her body around on the bed like a bleached white whale. Sherry began to bring her tongue, more into play, darting and lapping at the innermost depths of Margo's person.
Sherry's jaws and tongue began to ache, tiring from the strenuous and unaccustomed exercise they were undergoing. But Sherry knew that to stop now would only leave Margo in a state of maddening frustration . . .
Margo gave a muffled cry of ecstasy as she lifted and held herself inches off the mattress for that final brush of Sherry's tongue over the harder-than-ever, inflamed, red morsel at the top of her broiling slit. . . the crowning stroke that sent her rocketing into frenzied climax. "Oh... Ah... Oh...!"
Sherry drew back quickly, her lips glistening with the juices of Margo's lust. She watched with fascination as Margo rode out her orgasm with a series of furious gyrations and meaningless mutterings, that excited Sherry all over again.
When after long moments, Margo's orgasm subsided, Sherry flopped exhaustedly alongside her and Margo's strong arms went around her. They kissed and Sherry could feel Margo's huge body still trembling.
"You must never do that again, darling," Margo whispered.
"You didn't like it?"
Margo's answer was indirect. "It makes me feel like a woman."
"But you are a woman."
"No! I don't want to be a woman--not when I'm with you. I want to love you, darling."
"That's no fun for you."
"You're wrong. I get more enjoyment out of bringing pleasure to you, than having it done to me.
Sherry didn't thoroughly understand it, even though she'd heard about lesbian relationships, dykes and femmes. She wasn't sure at the moment whether or not she wanted to enter such a relationship . . . she wasn't sure of much of anything right now because Margo's lips and tongue and fingers were at work again on her erogenic zones and she felt the strength being drained from her body as she drifted into another dreamy sequence that would lead to still another orgasm . . .
At the end of the following week, before another month's rent was due, Sherry gave up her apartment and moved in with Margo. They had decided that two could live almost as cheaply as one, especially if they shared the rent, the cooking and all other expenses. Aside from their respective jobs, neither had any outside interests that the other didn't share. They accepted no dates, either individually or in pairs, even though they both had more than their share of offers. At the bank there were several eligible young men as well as a number of male customers who tried to date Sherry. While the insurance company where Margo worked, was overflowing with young bucks with a high fever. Both Sherry and Margo had become firmly convinced that no one could ever begin to bring them the satisfaction and pleasure that they found in each other--especially in bed.
It proved to be an ideal teaming with Margo the aggressor and Sherry assuming the passive role. Of course, on occasion they reversed their roles. But for the most part Sherry remained the female member of the union.
This arrangement continued in effect for almost a year with each girl feeling a deep, romantic affection for the other. Sherry gave herself to Margo as completely as she might have given herself to a man. There was no sexual whim or perverted craving that Sherry denied the older girl. Cunnilingus, masturbation, tribadism--they tried them all, with Sherry more than just a condescending partner.
It looked exactly as if their marriage-without-benefit-of-clergy was destined to a lasting arrangement and it well might have been, except for the untimely appearance of Margo's brother, Ben, whom she hadn't even mentioned in all the time that she and Sherry had been together.