sun and earth.
I've already told you about her big straw hat and her golden hair and her perfectly shaped face. Well, the rest of her was definitely up to par.
She wore an artist's smock, bright pink with little stains of paint here and there and brushes and pencils sticking from one pocket. The smock was unbuttoned and I could see that she also wore a snug blue body shirt, a shade and a half darker than her lustrous, liquid eyes, and below that a denim skirt, very short. Those faggot fashion designers have been trying to kill the mini for years, but my new friend's legs were the absolutely unanswerable argument for short skirts. They were long and tanned and beautiful.
Her face was a valentine heart, big blue eyes and a little red mouth and a tiny dimple in her chin. She was a walking advertisement for perfect beauty.
I suppose she was in her middle twenties. Her name was Belinda. I didn't have to ask, because it was rhinestoned in big bold letters across the front of her sweater. B-E-L-I-N-D-A, curving with the thrusting swell of her tits. I didn't know whether her boobs or her monogram was the more eye-catching, but whichever, I found my eyes almost glued to her chest.
She had rings on every finger, the biggest one of those mood rings that change color depending on how you feel. It was deep black right now, a bad sign. A large gold wedding band was almost as noticeable.
'Come on,' Belinda suggested. 'I'll take you home and help you get freshened up. You really need it.'
We picked up her easel and painting – it was watercolor, a landscape, and I thought it was pretty good – and she took me to her car, a small red sports model parked in the stadium lot. From there it wasn't far to her house, and I talked all the way in a burst of nervous energy.
I must have told her my life story, or at least the relevant portions, dwelling mostly upon the way I'd been misused a short time ago. She clucked in sympathy and assured me that we could dump my clothes into her washer and get them spic and span in a twinkling.
She lived on the south side of town. Belinda and her husband were newcomers here in Athens, having been here only a month or six weeks. Her man was a lawyer, she said, and he'd just taken on a partnership in a law firm here in town. They were from Illinois but she didn't have a Midwestern twang in her voice. I didn't care about her accent or her husband. I couldn't take my eyes away from her.
She was so beautiful, I kept telling myself, and she carried herself in a way that showed she knew it. Her body was a study in graceful shapeliness and she had a nice personality besides. Alan hadn't done a thing for me but Belinda Rodgers was the most erotically stimulating creature I had ever seen. My cunt grew damp as I shifted uncomfortably on the bucket seat, and I thought maybe I was seeping more blood, but that wasn't it. I was just getting the hots for my blonde acquaintance.
Knock it off, Pamela Crosby, I told myself archly. She's just being kind. She wants to help you. She probably even feeds stray cats and dogs, too. Besides, the only girl I'd ever been intimate with was Lilly. I'd never had the courage to make overtures to any other girls, and I wasn't sure I knew how. With guys it's so easy. You're on the prowl and so are they. But with girls it's a whole different scene.
Well, I thought, it's settled. I'm definitely a lesbian. There's no question whatsoever. A good-looking stud and his big thick cock had only turned me off, but I was about to cream in my panties thinking about how nice it would be to lick this nice lady's nipples. I would have some good news for Lilly. Maybe I'd better call her this evening or tomorrow and let her know that I'd decided, and I'd better read the book she lent me, too, so I'd know how to behave as a full-fledged lez.
Belinda led me into the basement of her house, and she rounded up an armful of soaps and bleaches. 'These should do the trick,' she informed me, setting the machine. 'If you'd like to go around the corner and hand me your clothes, I'll put them in the washer and find something for you to put on while you're waiting.'
'No big deal,' I said with a smile, dropping my shorts and stepping out of them. I flipped them into the washer, then took off my panties, too. 'He touched my halter,' I went on, 'so I guess it would be sanitary to wash it, too,' and with that I was standing naked and unashamed before her.
Belinda handed me a tissue to wipe my cunt, and I only wished it were her fingers that did the job instead of my own. She smiled as she watched me, and I just kept wiping and swabbing, rubbing that soppy tissue till my cunt itched from the constant back and forth touching.
'You have a lovely figure,' Belinda said, her voice just a bit throaty.
'There are better,' I said boldly, meeting her eyes with mine. God, my nipples were hot and stiff, as if someone had been mouthing them without let-up for a long, long time! They ached and yearned and I wanted to touch them, to rub away their poignant erections.
Belinda turned away from me suddenly, and she flipped the washer switch into life. 'How old are you?' she asked tightly. 'You look very young.'
'I'm a senior,' I replied, taking a step closer. She could only slap me, throw me out on, my ass. I put my hand on her waist. She'd discarded her smock and the denim of her short skirt looked so inviting, so touchable…
Belinda stiffened at my touch and she turned back to face me, moving very slowly. My hand glided with her, remaining on the definite line of her waist. Her blue eyes were liquid and filmy and she was curling her mouth into a smile. 'Do you know what you're doing?' she asked, very softly.
'I think so,' I replied, and I leaned in to kiss her. She was just my size, and our lips came together perfectly.
My mouth was open and hers was shut, and it seemed that I was swallowing her up while the washer roared away in the background. I put both my hands on her waist and I squirmed against her bravely, and almost before I knew it Belinda had wrapped one of her long legs around one of mine and her hands were clawing fiercely on my bare back. Her lips parted to accept my tongue. Honey flowed into my mouth, hot and sweet as vintage brandy.
My tits crushed upon hers and our cunt-mounds oozed together. The denim of her skirt tickled my puss incessantly, and I thought I'd cream on the spot from pure excitement, but that was nothing to the feeling I got when Belinda's hands cupped the cheeks of my ass and began to squeeze insistently.
I lifted as her hands commanded, and her fingertips moved into my crack, and then I wanted to climb her body like a tree. By now I was holding her tightly, as she did me, and our legs were entwined where we stood, and I'm not sure who or what was actually supporting us then.
She shuddered in my arms as the kiss became deeper, more searching, and I know that I was shuddering in her embrace, too. Why shouldn't I be trembling? I'd fantasized this, almost from the first time I looked into her eyes, and now it was coming true. Was Belinda a sister? She was married, yes, but that was no guarantee of straightness. Certainly she knew how to kiss me and hold me, and I couldn't believe this was her first time.
Finally our mouths squished apart and I found myself staring into the bottomless pools of her eyes. 'You're so gorgeous,' I said. 'I want to love you.'
'Did I say you couldn't?' she wondered with a come-on glimmer shining.
The basement floor was cement and of course we couldn't roll one another on its cold surface. When Belinda suggested that we adjourn to her bedroom, I was dancing on air, and when she stood beside her bed, unwrapping her wraparound denim skirt, stepping out of her body shirt, I wanted to sing for joy.
Wearing only a filmy blue bra, Belinda held out her hands to me and I stepped close. The bright-pink smears of her big nipples were like eyes in the cups of her brassiere and I touched them through the sheer fabric, feeling their hard points. She closed her eyes and petted me while I stroked her, and then I undid the clasp between her tits and set free her jugs.
They were lovely – she was lovely – I couldn't be so base as to single out the various features of her body and say this one or that was most outstanding. Her frame was voluptuously adorned, with a pair of rounded, thrusting tits that were already firm with lust. Her waist was narrow, flaring into lissome, well-curved hips and legs, and between her upper thighs nestled the sexiest, most edible-looking cunt I had ever seen.
It was plump and perfectly formed, the lips pink, the pussy fur shaven clean away, and the smooth, tanned columns of her legs framed it beautifully. I couldn't resist the impulse to touch it, and my fingers stroked its dainty bulging presence.
'That feels good,' Belinda told me, kissing my neck. I pressed at the tidy gash and my little finger slid inside. She went onto tiptoes as I thrust deeply, and I felt her snatch begin to moisten around my finger. While Belinda oohed and ahed her delight, I bent my head and let my tongue butterfly back and forth on the stiff pink tabs of her
