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Subject: {ASSM} August Heat (2/3,FF,SEXFIGHT)
Date: Sat, 18 Mar 2000 00:10:16 -0500
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August Heat - Part Two
Diane slept deeply for two hours. When she opened her
eyes, late afternoon sunlight cast beams across the
bed, faint motes of dust winking in and out. The
light fell across her breasts and abdomen.
Absently, she moved her hand across her chest, lightly
caressing her full breasts. It felt good to be here,
to be seeing Margot. No matter how much she enjoyed
the charged life she led in Manhattan, this was home.
She remembered the good times here. There was
horseback riding, fishing, games, and the confidential
intimacies she shared with Margot as they talked of
boys and dating and the heat of sexual awareness.
Her nipples grew into hard points, visible as they
tented the loose fabric of her shirt. She paused and
thought, I've got to get moving.
Barefoot, she wandered downstairs. She heard the hum
of the air-conditioning, and outside the thrum of
summer insects. She could barely hear some faint
music coming from the northwest corner of the house.
She followed it.
She came into a large paneled study. The room seemed
almost an afterthought to the house, since it
projected out from the rear, a separate room, with
windows on three sides. Margot sat in a large chair
near the west window, the sun shining down on her
face, glints of red highlighting the thick falling
waves of hair. She had been dozing on the chair, bare
feet tucked under her, a few papers lying on her lap.
Diane walked in quietly, leaned down, and kissed her
cousin on the forehead. Margot's eyes opened, blinked
in the sunlight, and she said softly, "Hello,
sleepyhead."
Diane laughed. "Who's a sleepyhead? You're the one
bagging Z's, babe."
Margot stretched and yawned, her breasts compressed
against her white shirt. "You about ready to go out
and get some food? There's a fairly nice place about
thirty minutes from here."
Diane sat down in a wingback chair across from her.
"I could do with that. How dressy?"
"Oh, cocktail dress would be nice."
Diane smiled a slightly wicked smile. "I've got
something that might serve."
"I thought you'd might. Shall we say in about an
hour? Give us time to get clean, get our party
clothes on."
"Perfect."
They both left the study and headed upstairs, Margot
to her room at the end, Diane to hers. Diane pulled
off her shirt, shorts and panties and padded naked
into the old-fashioned bathroom adjoining her room.
She loved the old claw-footed tub with the shower
curtain hooked into a ring hanging from the ceiling.
The spray would come from a large brass showerhead
directly overhead.
She started the water going, adjusting the
temperature. She folded her hair into a shower cap,
and stepped in, pulling the curtain around her. She
grabbed the soap and started to wash herself, sighing
luxuriantly as the water pounded down. Her breasts
bounced and jiggled as she moved around, soaping the
long legs. She caressed her large nipples, shivering.
Watch yourself, girl, she thought. Keep it up and
you'll be diddling yourself in the restaurant. Ever
since she arrived, she had been in a state of mild
arousal. Seeing Margot had awakened old feelings.
She had never been entirely comfortable with her
bisexuality, and had only two other encounters with
women other than Margot. She was certain (well,
almost certain) that she preferred men, but the failed
relationships had hurt her. She had spent the last
five years almost celibately.
And certainly nowhere else had she explored the
rough-and-tumble sexual combat that had surprised them
both twenty-one years before. And then there was that
one time ten years ago.... The intensity of the feelings
that had provoked frightened her.
But as she thought about it, she found herself
imagining a fierce embrace.
Out loud, she said sharply, "No." She shook herself
and finished rinsing. She turned off the shower,
pulled back the curtain, and snagged a large fluffy
towel. She started to vigorously dry herself.
Diane finished her ablutions, and proceeded naked and
smelling cleanly of soap and hot water into her room.
She chose a pair of black bikini panties and a
matching demi-bra with a plunging neckline. She
worked her way into the underclothes. The panties
snagged a little on her thick pubic hair. She reached
down to adjust the cloth so that it fit comfortably
around her pudenda. She slipped on the bra,
holstering her bulbous breasts into the cups. A pair
of sheer pantyhose went on next. She tugged the hose
into place over her hips, compressing the flesh a
little.
She pulled a jet-black DKNY cocktail dress out of the
armoire and stepped into it, pulling the straps on
over her shoulders, adjusting the scoop neckline over
her breasts. She completed the ensemble with a pair
of Liz Claiborne spike heel open-toed pumps. For
jewelry, she selected understated diamond stud
earrings and a simple gold chain necklace with a
sapphire pendant that nestled in the beginning of her
cleavage. She dabbed a little Opium on her pulse
points, and between her breasts.
She took a brush to her hair and set it into falling
waves with a few practiced strokes. She regarded her
overall appearance in the mirror with a satisfied
smile.
She met Margot downstairs. Margot had chosen a maroon
Halston number with a plunging neckline that exposed
the interior sides of her large breasts. The hemline
ended a couple of inches above the knee, and her long
beautifully shaped legs were sheathed in smoky
pantyhose. She had on a pair of classic Ferragamo
pumps, also in maroon. Her luxuriant hair fell about
her shoulders. She had on a pair of turquoise and
silver earrings with a matching necklace.
"Well," Margot said, "I think we'll knock `em dead."
Diane grinned, placed her hand on her hip, and did a
slow twirl. "Let's go show them some style, baby!"
They left the house in early twilight. Comfortably
seated in the air-conditioning of Margot's Lexus, they
chatted companionably about home, work, and family.
Dinner was at a stylish restaurant that specialized in
Southwest cuisine. Over margaritas, the conversation
drifted to their love lives.
Diane said, "I thought the thing with David would work
out. But he just couldn't deal with my independence.
So he wound up with some wispy blonde thing who hangs
on every word of his and drapes her insubstantial body
around him."
Margot nodded sympathetically. "Well, the hell with
him."
Diane asked, "And what about you?"
Margot sipped her drink. "Oh, there's been a couple of
good relationships. One guy I still see every now and
then. Rancher type, lean and tall. Surprisingly well
read. A nice sexual hit, too." Margot smiled softly.
"But I don't know if I want to marry again. It
gets...complicated."
Their first course arrived then, efficiently served by
jacketed waiters. They continued their chatter over
salad, followed by a spicy chicken dish, accompanied
by a good Chardonnay.
After coffee, they got in the Lexus. An almost full
moon paralleled their drive back to the house. It was
still very warm and sticky. They rode back in easy
silence.
* Diane remembers *
It is ten years ago. Diane and Margot are in the
somewhat cluttered apartment that Diane has in
Greenwich Village, in a third-floor walkup. Margot
had taken a long weekend away from her husband and son
to make the long-promised trip to see her cousin.
They have spent the evening seeing some of Manhattan.
It's a warm summer evening. Both women are clad only
in bras and panties. They are on the unmade bed,
sharing a pint of rich chocolate ice cream. They are
lying on their stomachs, digging in the carton with
small spoons, their legs tilted upward, just as they
had once done as teenagers. A single twenty-five watt
bulb in a table lamp illuminates the room.
They giggle about the evening, about the small
off-Broadway play they had seen, which was laughably
bad. They laugh about the men who tried to pick them
up at the smoky jazz bar in SoHo.
Diane wants Margot to stay another day. Margot
protests that she has to get back. Diane says that
her family will get along without them for another
twenty-four hours.
Diane suggests they arm-wrestle to see if Margot stays
another day. Margot agrees. They put the melting ice
cream aside and position themselves on the bed
diagonally, faces close together, arms upraised.
(Across the street, a small-breasted woman wearing
panties and T-shirt sits in a darkened apartment. She
sees the voluptuous women across the street ready
themselves.)
Margot and Diane brace themselves. Their right arms
meet in firm grip. Diane says, Ready? Margo says,
Yes.
They begin the contest. Diane flexes her arm and
pushes. Margot pushes back. They are about evenly
matched. They stare intently into each other's eyes.
The muscles on Diane's shoulder ripple as she pushes.
Margot grimaces as she summons her strength against
Diane's effort. Perspiration starts to form on their
foreheads.
(The voyeur across the street is fascinated. She
perches on her tall wooden stool. Unconsciously she
raises one hand to her breasts and starts to caress
them through the thin fabric of her T-shirt.)
The late evening New York noises outside their window
are unheard by the two arm-wrestling women. It has
been a dead heat for five minutes. The playful bet
has become an earnest struggle.
Margot makes an extra effort. Slowly Diane's arm
begins to bend. Diane groans. She will lose if she
doesn't do something. Anything.
Suddenly, Diane moves her mouth forward. She sticks
out her tongue and quickly licks her cousin's lips.
(The woman across the street now has her hand under
her shirt. She twirls her nipple lazily. Her breath
is starting to come faster.)
Shocked, Margot's arm is bent backward to the
mattress. She shouts, unfair! We go again!
Diane says, Okay. They take a couple of minutes to
knead the tired muscles, and position themselves
again.
They are at it for just a few minutes, straining, when
Margot pushes her open mouth onto Diane's. Diane
pushes back, their lips bruisingly hard against each
other. Their arms continue to push against each
other.
Diane's tongue works its pink way into Margot's mouth.
They fight and press with their tongues, breath
coming in gasps, as their hands clench each other and
push.
(The woman across the street has worked her left hand
under her panties. She strokes herself and moans as
she continues her pulling and twisting on her hard and
erect nipple.)
Margot's arm is pressed back closer to the mattress.
She decides to take another tack. She reaches with
her left hand and grasps Diane's long brown hair and
slowly starts to pull.
Diane pulls her mouth away from the battle with
Margot, and grunts. With her own left hand, she grabs
a double handful of Margot's auburn mop, and she also
pulls. They strengthen their grip and pull steadily.
Their eyes are closed as their heads start to approach
the mattress. Their breathing gets rough, and they
start to whimper.
Margot lets go with both hands and pries Diane's hand
away from her hair. She swings herself around and
lands on Diane's back. She grabs Diane's shoulders
and pulls her from her prone position and flips her
around.
Both women reach out with strong arms into a fierce
embrace. They feel their underwear against each
other. Their breasts slam together, the edges of the
bras lightly scratching the soft flesh.
(The voyeur has her finger sliding ever faster along
the lips of her cunt. She had pulled her T-shirt up
so that her breasts are visible. She is sweating as
her breath comes faster.)
Diane presses her leg up between Margot's thighs.
Margot's mound feels the contact through her panties,
which are quite wet. Diane violently catapults her
hips upward and flips her cousin around. Now Diane is
on top. Their breasts slide together, perspiration
making them shiny and slick. They grapple.
Margot reaches with one hand and pulls down on Diane's
bra strap. It slides down her shoulder, and Diane's
left breast is exposed, the nipple a hard, sensitive
point. She pulls the other strap, and Diane's other
tit frees itself.
Diane twists the front of Margot's bra. The hook pops
open, and Margot's breasts fall out, slapping against
Diane's. Diane slams her body down and their breasts
hit each other, nipples poking and meeting with sudden
shocks of sensation.
(The woman across the street watches through narrowed
eyes. The crotch of her panties is soaked as she
urgently fingers herself.)
Margot and Diane continue their sexual battle. Diane
straddles her cousin and Margot opens her legs wide.
Their wet panties begin to slide against each other as
a slow humping begins. Diane leans down and presses
her open mouth against Margot's lips. They twirl
their tongues together, moaning their need.
Their soaked panties begin to fold within the lips of
their cunts. They begin to feel the rough caress of
cunt against cunt as the heated staccato beat of their
hips intensifies.
Margot slides her hands down to Diane's ass and slips
her hands under the panties. She grips strongly as
her hands pull Diane's hips down on top of her. Diane
does the same thing, and they are pummeling their hips
together, fingers digging into their cheeks as they
cry out incoherently.
Under the dim glow of the bedside lamp, they scream
together as Diane arches her back and Margot presses
her crotch upward, lifting her cousin a foot off the
bed. Their mutual orgasm pierces the New York night
as their throbbing clits meet, as their liquid molten
pleasure shakes them.
(The voyeur's finger slips inside her cunt and presses
firmly on the g-spot. She ejaculates and cries her
own climax. Her juices make a fragrant puddle on the
wooden chair of the stool. She slides off the stool
and falls onto the floor, curled on her side, slowly
caressing her clit.)
Margot decides to stay one more day.
__________________________________________________
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--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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