Butterflies

"I swim," Sally came back. "Three to four miles a week."

"How do you keep your hair so soft?" was Marlene's reply. "That chlorine is murder." She ran her fingers down the side of Sally's head, lightly brushing past an ear.

Sally was already beginning to feel a bit dreamy. "I wear a cap, like in those old Ester Williams' movies.

Marlene's fingers were settling in now, kneading, tracing along the fine edges of Sally's back and shoulder bones, everywhere where the muscles had gone tight, seeking out and probing for each little spot where she'd ever been sore.

A little sigh escaped Sally's lips, then she added a bit dreamily, "do you love the old movies?

"Adore 'em." Marlene's voice had relaxed in relation to the deficit of the contents of the wine bottle; it seemed a bit more velvety now. "Greta Garbo, Errol Flynn, Jean Tierney, Carey Grant, Deborah Kerr ... From here to Eternity," she added wistfully.

"Montgomery Clift," they said together, causing each to laugh.

Sally took another good long drink. This was beginning to feel oh so good.

"God, he was hot." Marlene said. She had slowed her rhythm considerably in the past few minutes, and had begun to drape her hands over Sally's shoulders, dragging soothingly up on those muscles which always seemed to be so tired and frazzled between her shoulders and breasts. One of Marlene's hands went away for a moment; obviously she was taking another drink of her wine. She coughed a little as she must have swallowed wrong and said, "could you imagine kissing Montgomery Clift, doing a scene with him, even with the lights and the crew, to have him take you in those strong arms and just ... just ... kiss you."

Sally could feel it. She had her eyes closed now. The wine was strong; there was this delicious glow spreading everywhere within. Marlene's hands were hypnotic. Little knots in her neck kept popping; muscles she hadn't even known were sore were beginning to melt.

"Have you ever kissed a woman?" Marlene asked.

Sally wasn't even startled when she just reached in and told the truth. "Not a woman. But I had a special friend when I was just a teenager. One night, we were sleeping over." It just seemed to flow out of her; it felt so natural, so soothing, so right to talk to Marly. "We kissed some. We were just ... I don't know now how it happened, but we were talking about boys and then just suddenly kissing."

"Did you ever do it again? Or was that the only time?"

"No," Sally replied. "I mean, yes; we did again, a couple more times. But then it just seemed kind of awkward, at least for me. It was like the first time there was an innocence to it. The second time was a few weekends later. We were at her house that Saturday night; I can so remember it. It was like neither one of us could say anything openly, but we both knew we wanted to. I think we both got a little carried away. And the third time ... I don't know. The third time it just felt a bit silly, her lips on mine. Maybe we were trying to hard, or embarrassed from the last time. Anyway, that was it. What about you?"

"About the same. But my first was at a summer camp. I was sharing a tent with this girl. Funny, but I don't even remember her name now. We were giggling and cutting up, tickling each other and stuff like that. She dared me. Funny that I can't remember her name, but I can remember everything about how her lips felt, her breathing, silly stuff like how her nose brushed against mine. Are we weird?"

Sally nodded her head going with the flow of Marlene's fingers. Last time she'd spoken she'd become aware of just how thick her tongue felt and how her syllables had begun to slip. "I think things like that are natural for most girls."

"What about boys?" Marlene's voice most definitely had a pronounced slur to it.

Sally hiccupped. "I don't think boys do that kind of thing."

"Some do," Marlene came back. "Just not the kind you or I would ever end up with." She paused, but her hands didn't. She knew just where to go, what to touch and how to touch it. "Some things are better about being a girl. You know?"

A real sigh, escaped from Sally. She couldn't have held it back even if she had known it was coming. The feel of Marlene's legs at her back shifted, as though she was resettling, and then Sally felt Marlene's lips graze her ear. It was just a little kiss, just a touch, but she felt the contact from both her lips, could even feel the heat of her breath.

Marlene moved back. "Was that okay?"

Sally didn't even have to think. "More than okay."

Marlene's hands were making slow, deep circles atop Sally's shoulders, riding the ridges and pressing in along the slender bones running out from her neck. Her fingers, the balls of her palms, how she pressed, everything was just melting away. Sally saw her glass on the table. It was empty again, so soon. Again one hand ceased. Sally hadn't even said a thing. But reaching over, so her breasts touched against the back of Sally's head, Marlene picked up the bottle and refilled Sally's glass.

"How does she do that? How'd she know I wanted more wine?" flashed through Sally's mind. But all suspicion was erased when Marlene put her thumb down right at the base of Sally's clavicle and pressed in. "Oh, right there," she breathed. "God, right there."

Marlene leaned down again. Holding her thumb where it was, she kissed Sally on the spot on her neck just below where her lips had touched before. "Right there?" she whispered.

Sally swallowed dryly and gave a little nod.

Marlene didn't pull back. She kept her lips where they were, just tracing the bottom edge of that ear. Without any noticeable change at all, her hands slipped down, running across the tops of Sally's breasts. Reflexively, Sally breathed in, her chest expanding and moving out into Marlene's touch, even feeling a flush of quick disappointment when the hands drew back up and one again went away.

Sally reached for her own glass. It was half empty again; it'd seemed full a moment ago. The wine was so smooth, so rich; she'd never really drank wine at room temperature before. She'd never done any of this before.

Marlene's lips came back, this time at Sally's other ear. Sally could smell the unique bouquet of the wine flavored by Marlene's breath, and something else, something feminine, something warm. Those hands, both of them in league with the other, they worked lower, kneading those tight muscles in her chest just above her breasts. She'd worn a camisole rather than a bra, now so glad she'd finally settled on the soft and silky garment. The feel of the silk moving over her nipples, mirroring the pass of Marlene's hands had her nipples standing on edge, tight, stiff, erect.

"Everything still okay?" Marlene whispered. "Do you want me to stop?"

Sally didn't want to even reply. Somehow she knew she didn't have to.

Marlene's hands slipped down lower, embracing Sally's breasts completely. Her nipples felt so alive, irresistibly taunt below the subtle brush of Marlene's palms. Almost as alluring was the touch of Marlene's tongue, tracing the edge of her ear, so slowly, so softly, rippling the small hairs on her neck with her breath so close and hot. Another sigh escaped Sally's throat. Marlene's touch was so light; she would now and then just skim the bottom of her breasts with the tips of her fingers. Men always just grabbed on, but Marlene's feminine touch was maddening. It wasn't just her nipples, but her entire breasts, the plump curves of the sides, the tracing of the crease along the bottom; Sally was so very aware, so very entranced. Then deeply, Marlene's hands truly touched her now, her palms pressing in, not squeezing but fondling, exploring, feeling; but not feeling just for herself. It was more; a subtle difference in shared sensation, causing Sally to know the mutual pleasure of sharing her breasts, all under the curious spell of such an artful caress. Delicious, that's what it was, delicious. Maybe the music had stopped. Maybe the world had stopped. Sally didn't know, didn't care.

Turning, somehow it was like Marlene knew she would. Her lips and hands drew back as Sally came around on her knees, rising to face Marlene. Hazy, glassy, the air was as thick as water, the space between them nothing. Sally came forward, leaning in, her hands on Marlene's knees, slow, sultry, as inevitable as the dawn. Both closed their eyes at just the exact same moment, and they kissed, full and long. And oh, how Marlene kissed her; the passion flowed syrupy hot and just as sweet, just as sweet. Slow, it was maddening like this, slow and long, a first kiss spiced with eagerness and anticipation. But her heart wasn't slowed. Sally's heart was thumping, caught up in her throat, pounding, just pounding. The throb of it was apparent in the tips of her fingers, her toes, and in that secret spot, deep down, where the madness was only beginning to take hold.

Marlene broke it off, gasping for breath, her eyes anything but green. "Oh, Sally!" she said in two breathless gasps. She seemed on the verge of something like a wild-eyed panic. She was shaking, her cheeks and throat flushed a crimson red. But Sally wasn't about to stop, she couldn't. She knew she'd never be the same if she did. She looked to Marlene. It was all in their eyes; that's where the grip of the passion truly had hold. Like some fever, the consequence of exposing their ardor had infected them both. Had Max been there to catch that look; the essence of the passion which passed between these two women, such an image, if captured and released on an audience would have set the screen ablaze.

Sally came up off her knees, pressing in, Marlene going over, back and down. Her skirt had come up as she did; Sally was between her legs, oblivious to anything except continuing that kiss. And they did, more than just breath and the touch of their tongues passing between their lips. It was everything, the light brush of their mouths, noses and cheeks over the other's, woman to woman; a blend of desire, spiced so richly feminine, so fierce, so fiery, neither could control nor stop the obsession.

The air all about was hot, steamy, smack you in the face, take your breathe away, deep in the heart of the jungle hot. Each woman was slick with sweat, their clothes sticking between their bodies. Marlene was on the bottom, somehow pulling Sally's blouse off. Dropping it, it simply disappeared. Then the camisole; Sally had risen up, breaking the kiss to let Marlene peel it from her skin. Her breasts naked, Sally couldn't help but press back down, and Marlene couldn't help but acquiesce to another kiss.

Sally's thoughts flowed, merging with physical sensation into some kind of intoxicant, a hallucination of both flesh and mind. The differences of how they touched one another were so subtle yet so powerful; it was frightening, thrilling, almost overwhelming, the sex of another woman. The cure and plunge between Marlene's legs, so taboo, yet so enticing. The softness in Marlene's panties was crushed against Sally's thigh, what a forbidden and exotic feeling for Sally, so different than the press of the excitement of a man. A flash came to her: "Is this how I feel to Mark when he's on top of me?" The crush of her own naked breasts against Marlene's, still trapped under the fabric of her dress, the lightness yet strength of a woman's arms around her back pulling her down, the smell of a woman's breath, the taste of her lips, such a cascade of fear and delight stoking the madness, deepening the wetness she felt in her own sex.

Marlene broke it off, pushing Sally back as if for dear life. It was as though she couldn't breathe. But that wasn't it. Her hands were frantically working at the buttons on the side of Sally's velvet slacks. But before she could finish, something else took over, and Marlene sat up burying her face in Sally's breasts. Sally hanging on, gripping Marlene's hair, threw her head back. Sally could look out, see the room, but nothing was real, and nothing could ever be the same. Marlene was ravenous, yet not frenzied, not out of control; the languor with which she worked her tongue and lips so slowly from nipple to nipple, sparing no crease no curve, pushed Sally over the edge, causing her to shiver as the orgasm came.

Marlene looked up, so much more than a smile on her face. "Is that good?"

Sally looked down, the spasms of pleasure still ringing, the shock and surprise naked in her eyes. "I've never felt anything like that before," she gasped. "It just happened." She ran her hands up own through her hair, then all the way up spreading her fingers and stretching out. She then brought her one knee around, backing off the couch as she stood. Holding her hands out, she helped Marlene to her feet. "Let's get you out of that dress."

Marlene, standing shakily retrieved her glass of wine and turned her back. For Sally the hazy dream vision seemed to swim in the room. Reality was so unreal, as she pulled the zipper down, watching the fabric spread apart. She peeled the dress from Marlene's shoulders and watched it crumple to the floor. Then she simply unhooked the bra and spreading the straps from behind, ran it down Marlene's shoulders and off her arms. For the briefest of moments, the flood of passion began to subside, maybe a reaction to the natural fading after the surprise of that quick, little orgasm. Momentarily rationality intruded, and she saw herself for what she was doing. "I'm undressing a woman," she thought. "It's a woman, not a man, a woman. What am I doing? Is this really me?"

Wearing only her panties, Marlene turned. There was a softness in her eyes, a vulnerability revealing the essence of what makes first sex always a risk, a dare, a chance well worth the perils. Sally couldn't help it; all pretenses, all inhibition melted, and she pressed in, wrapping her arms around Marlene, holding the other woman's body to her own.

In moments they were kissing again, and somewhere, somehow, by the time they were atop one another on the futon again, Sally's velvety slacks and panties had disappeared. In the fog, she saw her own fingers pull Marlene's panties down, the close up view of another woman's sex so beyond belief. Marlene's curls were thick and jet black, only just revealing the crease below. Looking down, Marlene just smiled, running her fingers through Sally's hair, shivering and parting her legs with the touch of another first kiss.

As though a spell had been cast, parting their legs, the deliciousness of the abandon left them more than just naked but truly exposed. For Sally, Marlene's little knot she uncovered, so vulnerable, so wanton, it seemed to radiate to the pleasure of her own. The slow sultry manner in which Marlene returned the intimate tracings of Sally's tongue caused a truly molten fervor to take hold between them. The smell of musk was thick in the air, as wet as the sweat shimmering on their skins. Marlene returned each kiss, each daring little lick until both the women were driving themselves moaning and shivering, quaking and crying out. The effects of mutual culmination were devastating again and again and again.

Then some ages later, at least once Sally's breathing had returned, she found herself turning about to lie face to face with Marlene curled on the futon. Now they touched, using only their fingers as they kissed. Tasting herself on Marlene's lips Sally let herself go, reveling in another explosion of mutual joy. Marlene's orgasm under the tips of her fingers and the tip of her tongue set off another chain reaction. Her muscles squeezed, throbbing again and again, gripping the curve of Marlene's probing finger. All these things, these taboos, the forbidden stiffness of a woman's nipple bending under her tongue, the sticky wetness hidden between her legs, fed the fires until Sally was so engulfed there was no right no wrong, only pleasure as a give and take. She came so many times, some cascading in quick, almost terrifying succession, every muscle ringing with the intimacy of coming while looking into another woman's eyes.

When they were spent, though not nearly done, they lay together, just breathing, kissing lightly, at times passing their fingers through one another's hair. What they said to each other was simple, no false pillow talk, no pretense; they had been much, much too intimate with each other for any shallowness such as that.

"I'll have to be going," Marlene whispered at last. "It's late."

"What time is it?" Sally looked over but couldn't see the clock.

"After one," Marlene came back. "At least the last time I looked." She leaned up, then looked down at Sally who was still curled on her side. "Any regrets?"

Sally couldn't help but laugh, a reaction which surprised her. "You mean like that neither one of us has a penis."

Marlene had to shake her head, laughing herself. "I thought we did just fine without one."

"But you're going home to Randall, aren't you?"

Marlene's wry grin stretched out. "I'm gonna fuck that boy's brains out. He's not going to know what hit him." Marlene got up, standing and stretching out her arms. "That is if I don't pass first out on the way home."

Sally sat up, looking down at herself, suddenly pressing her knees together. She noticed her panties were clear across the room. The wine bottle was lying on its side, empty on the table. At least there was just a little remaining in her glass. She picked it up and drained it, surprised at how shaky she was.

"Marly, you'll be careful on your way home?"

Marlene was clipping on her bra. "You know they say the reason drunks live when they're in a wreck and sober people don't, is because drunks are so relaxed they just flop around like a rag doll." Marlene reached under the coffee table with her toe and retrieved her dress. "The way I feel right now I could run head on into a 747 and not get a bruise."

Sally picked up her blouse but didn't feel a bit like putting it on. "If you're that wasted, though," she offered, "you should stay."

Marlene stepped into her dress and turned her back. "Zip me up?"

Sally rose, swaying and having to catch herself on Marlene's shoulders.

"I told you I'm not drunk, not anymore," Marlene continued, fluffing at her hair, while Sally zipped her up. "At least not on wine. Hell, I'd like to see 'em come up with a breathalyzer test for what's really in my system right now. I could hear the cop saying: 'That's right judge, she registered a sixty-nine, obviously felony orgasm abuse.'"

Sally couldn't help but smile and then even laugh as Marlene cocked her eye and winked.

Marlene was dressed; Sally couldn't believe how quickly. "Where's my purse?" she asked.

Sally pointed to the table by the door. "Over there. You put it on the table when you came in."

Marlene was slipping on her shoes, half hobbling as she walked. Sally got up and followed her over. There was a mirror on the wall just above the table. Marlene fished about in her purse, produced a brush, and gave her blond hair a few cursory swipes twisting her head back and forth. She could see Sally in the mirror. Marlene said to the image in the glass. "Amazing how much we resemble each other. I remember when Randall first told me about you. I didn't believe it."

She turned around when she put the brush back, leaning her butt back against the table. "I have to thank you for a wonderful evening," she said with a purposely snobbish accent. She delivered the line just as though it had come from some poorly written dinner theatre play.

Sally yawned, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth. "Sorry, Marly. I'm beat. I bet I'll sleep 'til noon."

"Star's prerogative," Marlene came back instantly.

There was a long pause, Sally naked, the blonde woman in her chic purple dress and little gold toed shoes, so similar, yet such a stark contrast to each other.