begged. “Let me see if I can give you more pleasure than you gave yourself! Let me try!”
The French girl stared down into Jean's eyes, fear and desire battling for dominance within her. She began to shake her head wildly from side to side — thrusting herself backwards. But Jean kept her hands firmly on Monique's buttocks, fingers now resting on the girl's pantie-clad cheeks beneath her skirt. She pursed her lips, inclining them towards Monique's, at the same time drawing the girl downwards to her mouth.
Monique felt as if she was being swept along by a powerful current of emotion which led towards fearful rapids and whirlpools. She knew that her control was growing weaker every moment and struggled to regain some measure of will-power. Her resistance (which, she perceived dimly, might after all have been merely token) at last broke completely — and Monique gave a final cry of despair, then allowed her lips to come into sweet contact with Jean's.
The girls kissed fiercely, crushing their mouths together with a suddenly unleashed passion which surprised them both. Violently, their soft lips pressed and merged, moving constantly — rubbing against each other as Jean and Monique sought in their separate ways for their taste of private pleasure.
Monique's hands now stole around Jean's neck. Her fingers met in the woman's hair and she seized twin handfuls of the jet black tresses, forcing Jean's head even more firmly forward whilst she thrust her live, wriggling tongue between the girl's lips.
It met Jean's — and the slippery, wet tongues joined in a lascivious meeting: darting eagerly together, tasting and lapping…
Slowly, Jean raised herself up from the chair and drew Monique sideways to the bed. Still kissing, the girls fell onto the unmade sheets, arms wound tightly around each other. They pushed their bodies quickly into one another, Monique's sharp-pointed breasts sticking through the thin material of her sweater into the larger, softer orbs of Jean's bosom.
Until she had made absolutely sure that Monique was hers completely — hers to do whatever she liked with — Jean didn't dare to release the girl's mouth. She kissed the precious lips fervently, exploring Monique's teeth and gums with the tip of her tongue, while her hands busied themselves at the voluptuous spread of the girl's bottom.
She fondled the cheeks with her roaming fingers, tracing a pattern along the tight nip of Monique's panties. The briefs were extremely close-fitting — and evidently several sizes too small for the girl. They left at least half of each buttock completely bare, and swathed the remainder of Monique's firm-cheeked arse so snugly that Jean had the greatest difficulty in slipping her fingertips beneath the hem.
At last she succeeded in wiggling her fingers under the taut elastic and onto the curvy cheeks themselves. She thought with a sharp thrill how lovely her own bottom had felt and how glorious it was to be able to fondle and caress this beautiful young girl's buttocks — without the slightest fear that Monique would object. She was absolutely certain of this, because the French girl was now busily adjusting her own dressing gown, pulling it up at the back to give her access to Jean's hidden charms.
Jean waited breathlessly for Monique's hands to descend on her waiting bottom. The girl's fingers were now, at this very moment, stealing slowly up the backs of her thighs… They stroked the flesh gently, kneading it with loving caresses, gradually slipping nearer and nearer to the exciting warmth of Jean's buttocks.
Moving as unobtrusively as possible, Jean let her thighs open a fraction — giving Monique the opportunity to fondle at the intimate inner flesh of her leg if the girl wished.
Monique panted deliciously into her mouth, emitting tiny little animal moans as she worked her fingers the rest of the way up Jean's thighs. Hoping to urge the girl to a faster exploration, Jean began to dig the sexy panties down Monique's hips, peeling them like a second skin over the French girl's shapely bottom.
She got them well off the cheeks, then left them in a screwed-up bundle stretching around the tops of the girl's thighs. Her hands moved up again, now able to move without restraint over the total bareness of Monique's darling arse. Jean patted the cheeks lovingly, hearing the faint slaps of her palms against the curved white orbs with a rising excitement.
Her fingers pressed once more into the yielding softness and she started to pull the globes apart. They yielded sweetly to her demands, the muscles slackening so that Jean could open the buttocks as fully as possible. She held them wide, one hand on each cheek, unable to see the glorious secrets which her fingers were revealing, but nevertheless relishing the blatant exposure of the girl's most private parts.
And at that moment Jean felt her own arse being seized by Monique's hands. She held her breath, then kissed Monique's mouth more passionately than ever as the responsive girl opened her bottom and immediately pushed an inquiring finger against the sensitive bud of her arse!
“Oh, Monique', Jean breathed. She pulled her mouth away at last and pressed her lips against the incredibly soft skin of the girl's neck. “Oh, my darling!” she sighed. “This is bliss! Here — let me do the same to you… There!”
Jean stole her forefinger from the base of the girl's spine down into the wide, heated crease of Monique's bottom. The tip of her finger touched the unflinching orifice of her darling's anus and sweetly, gently, Jean began to push it right into the so-tiny, so-tight rear hole.
Monique imitated the action, but moved her face so that their eyes met. Staring wondrously at each other, the girls insinuated their fingers with the slowest possible of movements into their respective arses, pushing with just the right amount of pressure so that not the slightest pain or discomfort was caused to either girl.
Meeting Monique's eyes, Jean felt a sudden rush of blood to her head. The pale blue eyes seemed to commune silently with her very soul. They stared frankly and without the slightest trace of embarrassment into hers, speaking of a feminine mystery that seemed far older than the girl's extreme youth; telling of the delights of shared female flesh… reminding her of the joys she had been missing for so long…
Jean wondered if the same expression was in her own eyes. She could feel them misting over, the outlines of Monique's features blurring as she seemed to stare beyond the girl's pupils into the innermost corners of her mind.
And still their fingers pursued their passage into their most secret and forbidden regions: now curling slightly so that their nails didn't scratch too sharply against the tender raw meat…
Unable to speak, Jean mouthed the words silently: “I love you, Monique”. She saw that the girl understood, realised that the love was shining brilliantly out of her eyes and that there was not the slightest need for her to voice her emotions. They were naked and unmistakable.
Jean kissed her again, softly this time — with only the gentlest of pressure. She felt Monique's hand leave her bottom (the girl's other hand remaining on the cheeks, splayed out with her forefinger embedded tightly in her arse) and slip between their bodies to unfasten her gown.
Easily, Monique parted the garment and opened it at the centre, sliding her hand up onto Jean's right breast. The fingers closed lovingly over the heavy swell, fondling the smooth flesh in a delicate and gentle caress — holding the breast as if it were the most fragile thing in the whole world.
When they next broke their kiss, Jean saw that Monique was staring down between their bodies, watching her hand as it rubbed and turned the nestling titty.
“Let's undress completely', Monique whispered suddenly. “I want to feel your body naked against mine — pushing into me! Please, Jean — take my clothes off!”
Gingerly withdrawing her finger from Monique's anus, Jean felt the girl pulling her own finger from its snug, tight place inside her own arse. Monique lay back on the bed, stretching full-length with her arms passively at her side. Jean stared at the girl for a brief moment, drinking in the sexy disarray of Monique's clothing: the skirt hoisted up to her waist, brief white panties pulled daringly down to expose her blonde-bushed sex.
Then she knelt beside her, leaning forward so that she could reach the hook and eye which held the girl's skirt in position. She unfastened it and slid the zipper down. Monique lay with her eyes half-closed, helping Jean by raising her legs slightly so that the woman could tug the skirt off more easily; but otherwise remaining quite motionless.
Jean turned her attention to Monique's panties. She peeled them slowly down the girl's thighs, slipped the skimpy briefs over the knees and lifted them carefully off Monique's ankles — raising them and catching a glimpse of the girl's pink-lipped quim which set her heart racing.
Her hands felt moist with excitement as she moved them to the hem of Monique's sweater. She maneouvred it upwards, exposing the white flesh of the girl's midriff. Jean lifted the clinging material over the brassiere cups, and Monique raised her arms indolently to allow her to tug the garment off.
