Scents of Heaven

My mind wandered to the air-conditioned interior of the Dobbs's home. I closed my eyes and took another good sniff of her intoxicating aroma. "I don't mind the heat. But we can go inside if that's what you want."

My eyes snapped open as I felt a breeze upon my nose. I saw at once Sherry's nearly adjacent face, her lips pursed as she directed a waft my way. I inhaled again, sampling the pleasant muskiness of her breath. How can her breath smell so fresh? I wondered. Mine cannot possibly be as sweet. Her face was so close. How I longed for it to be just that little bit closer.

"I suppose there might be some heat inside as well." Sherry said. "If that's what you want."

My eyes roamed her facade as I tried to read whether she wanted the same thing I did. Her lips were only inches away, yet they might as well have been miles distant until I knew. I had to know. Almost knowing was not good enough. "I might want that," I ventured.

"Ok." Sherry leaned away. Putting her palms to her thighs, she stood. "Let's go. I've had enough outside work for one day. Maybe we can finish these weeds tomorrow, if you don't mind." She extended her hand to help me to my feet.

"I don't mind," I said as I grasped her palm.

The woman pulled me upward, then issued a second, gentler, tug as I gained my feet. I inhaled a sharp breath as I felt my body pulled adjacent to hers. I caught my eyelids drooping as I again smelled her succulence. My eyes fell to her fingers, still wrapped about my palm. Her thumb moved just, rubbing, caressing the backside of my hand.

I snapped my gaze to Sherry's face and found her expression blank. I glanced at the other houses in the neighborhood, half expecting to see a face peering out of every window. "Perhaps we should go inside," I suggested.

Sherry released my hand. "Yes," she whispered. "I think we should."

I followed my friend around the side of her home. My eyes followed as well, admiring the way the muscles in her legs flexed with every step.

We passed through the exterior door without a word, then stood in her foyer amid the same shroud of silence. Our damp bodies accentuated the coolness of the home's interior, yet I still found myself panting through parted lips.

"You sure you don't want to shower?" Sherry asked.

"Not just yet."

"Do you remember gym class in high school?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Did you take showers there?"

My mind drifted back to the days of my late teens, to a time when I had showered with other girls; an anxious, embarrassing, and somehow exciting time. "Yes," I whispered. "You?"

Sherry nodded. "Yes."

"When you were in gym class," I began before my cowardice could rear its unwelcome head. "Did you ever look at any of the other girls?"

Sherry swallowed as she shifted a half-step closer to me. "Yes," she whispered. "I used to like looking at the small ones. There was one I really thought was pretty. Five foot tall. Chocolate brown eyes. Perfect little perky boobs. Long, black hair. Face like an angel." She leaned closer, so close I swear I could feel the heat from her body. "I couldn't take my eyes off of her."

My jaw fell as those eyes locked on mine. I cycled a breath through my open mouth before I dared reply. "I liked to look at this one gorgeous redhead," I declared, pausing for another breath. "Little over five foot tall. Emerald eyes. Breasts to die for. Face like a goddess." My gaze dropped to her figure before I added, "Body to match."

Sherry remained all but motionless as I brought my eyes back to her face. She looked back to me, her chest heaving, her nostrils flaring with each breath. I swallowed as I realized that the next move was mine. She had moved as close as she would, near enough there could be little doubt she wanted me to close the remaining distance, yet far enough away so that I might still retreat and we could each pretend nothing had happened.

"I love you," I announced. A shudder radiated from my soul, shaking my entire body as I realized the extent of my confession. My throat sought to swallow as I waited for her reply, but the words seemed to have taken every trace of moisture with them as they left my mouth.

Sherry's eyes throbbed, as if in time with her pulse, and mine. "I love you too."

My body sagged, withdrawing but an inch, but what a long inch. We had both said it, those three words that make us each so vulnerable, so human. Does any other creature say them? Such powerful words they are, yet so vague. How does one ever know what they really mean? Neither of us could be certain what the other meant or what to do next, so we but stood, stared, and waited.

Sherry finally moved her hand to my forearm, running her fingers over my skin in a familiar, yet wonderful, way. "Are they really to die for?" she asked, her palm sliding down to grasp the back of my hand. My gaze dropped as I felt her began to move that hand. Drawing it upward, she placed my open palm square upon her bosom, then eased it into her supple flesh.

I stiffened, inhaling in a sharp breath. My fingers at once sensed and savored the softness of her breast contrasting with the hardness of her nipple. Is she just chilled? I wondered. Or excited? My eyes dropped to my blouse and the two nubs plainly visible through the fabric.

"Are they really to die for?" Sherry repeated.

My head moved in a shallow nod. I blinked, as if to clear the sleep from my eyes. But this was no dream. "Yes," I muttered. "They're lovely."

"How do you know?" Sherry whispered. "You haven't seen them."

I tongued my lips. "Yes, I have seen them."

"Really? When?"

I nodded as I gulped. "Every chance I get."

"Well," Sherry purred. "I bet you haven't seen this." Without breaking eye contact she eased my hand away from her chest, carrying it down her abdomen and beyond. She flattened my palm before pressing it to the inside of her thigh and then clamping both legs together. With a bounce of her brow, she pulled my hand upward, then released it.

I gasped as I felt the warm moistness of the fabric between my hand and her womanhood. Fascinated, I pushed the edge of my palm farther into her softness. I was amazed to find her shorts damper the deeper I pressed. She's soaked! I realized. Can that be sweat? Or is it something else? Am I that wet too? As desperate as I was to know, I was even more unwilling to touch myself and find out.

"I think it's time for that shower," Sherry whispered.

I nodded, though I did not want to leave. I had never gone home so soon on any prior day. Perhaps, I thought, she finds my odor offensive. The pace of my nod increased as this fragment of doubt expanded within my psyche.

"I suppose it is," I replied. I stood for some moments, hoping that she would change her mind but my hostess did not move. I shifted my hand from her body to the nearby doorknob. "Same time tomorrow?"

Sherry's eyes widened. A droplet ran down her cheek, though I could not tell if it was perspiration or a tear. "I guess," she muttered.

"Ok," I repeated. "See you then."

I had barely cleared the door before I stopped and brought my right hand to my nose, inhaling the deepest breath of my life. Her scent permeated my sinuses, and it was not perspiration! I could feel my heart pound in my chest with the very thought that I had so excited the woman I adored. I looked at my fingers with awe, envying where they had been.

Oblivious to the possibility of onlookers, my left hand darted to my own crease. I smiled as I found it just as damp. I began to walk again, bringing each hand in turn to my nose, savoring her aroma, then mine, then hers again.

I took my shower, but my right hand I would not wash. Throughout the rest of the day and into the night I often found it close to my face. Each time I closed my eyes and wondered if I would ever smell anything so wonderful again.

* * * * *

I wore the skimpiest outfit I could find the next day as I made the short walk to Sherry's home, prepared for another morning of steamy toil in the dirt of her garden, but hoping for something else entirely.

My neighbor answered her door wearing a smile and little more. "Hi, Grace."

I beamed as I saw her attire so similar to my own. "Hi, Sherry." My eyes fell from her face to her loose fitting pullover. No bra again; same as me. I forced my eyes upward again. "Ready to finish the weeds?"

"I was thinking we should finish what we started, yes; but I'd rather stay inside today, if you don't mind."

I tilted my head, looking into the bright blue of the morning sky "Why? Is it too hot?"

"No. I'm just more in a talking mood." She stepped backward, taking the edge of the door with her.

I accepted the implicit invitation, entering her foyer. I turned to my hostess as she closed the door behind me. "Did you want to talk about anything particular?"

Sherry nodded. "Yes. Did you eat breakfast yet?"

"No. I thought we might have brunch together after we took care of the garden."

"Coffee then?"

I smiled. "Yes."

I trailed Mrs. Dobbs into her kitchen. She whirled as we reached the tiled surface, startling me. "Is coffee what you really want?"

I licked my lips, then shook my head. "No."

"Me neither," Sherry said. "I want an answer. One answer."

My chest heaved as I inhaled an extended breath. "What?"

Sherry moved closer. "When you said you loved me, did you mean like a sister?"

I moved my head toward my right shoulder, then snapped it back in a brisk shudder. "No."

"What then?"

I smirked. "That would be two answers."

Sherry scowled and shook her head. "Fine. I want two answers. How do you love me?"

I wondered for a moment if she was giving me a chance to say that yesterday was a mistake. Then, somewhere in the back of my brain, a few stray synapses fired, igniting others until a cascade of resolve rolled across my consciousness. The wave rolled over the last shreds of reluctance my psyche harbored. I would pretend no more.

"Like this," I said. I eased my face forward with the same caution one uses when moving a hand toward a potentially hot stovetop. I knew there was plenty of heat where I was going, and I wanted it all.

Sherry did not move until our noses touched in a gentle rub. With some trepidation, I realized we had crossed a boundary. The second time is always the confirmation. We could never go back.

Just as certain I would never want to go back, I moved the tip of my nose along her cheek to her ear and gave her lobe the most gentle of nuzzles. I stiffened with a start as I sensed her breath upon my own outer ear.

"I want you," she whispered. Her soft words seemed to hang in the air like the fragrance of some exotic perfume. She moved her lips to the lobe of my ear and suckled upon the fold.

My breath again came in pants. "I'm yours," I assured her. "All yours."

As mustangs loosed from a corral, Sherry's hands bolted, finding my back, pulling my body to hers. Her grip was like her body, strong yet supple. I went rigid as I felt her warmth through the scant layers of fabric that still separated us. Too many layers of fabric, I noted. Too many

Sherry pushed her face against my cheek, rubbing, almost rutting, until she had worked her mouth around to mine. Our lips just touched one another, teased and tested, then moved away.

"I've always found woman attractive," Sherry admitted. "But there's something about you that makes my heart race like none before. It's not just that you're pretty, I mean, that's all it was at first and you are that, but you're so much more!"

My mouth opened, but I hesitated to use it for speech, so afraid was I to say the wrong thing. Even knowing the truth, I found myself reluctant to say it. I licked my lips as I closed them, then steered my gaze into her eyes. Three blinks I took to build the courage to say what my heart knew to be true.

"I love you," I gasped, "like I've never loved anyone one else, like I never thought I could love anyone else. I love you as a friend, but I also love in the way I am meant to love a man."

I exhaled a long breath through my still parted lips as I awaited my love's reply. She but stood for what seemed like the longest of times, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Oh, Grace," she whispered, "Sometimes I think I could just melt every time I see you. Even when I don't see you with my eyes, I see you with my mind. I don't know what it means or what we should do, or not do."

"I don't know what we should do either," I admitted. "But I know what I want to do. Tell me, when you see me with your mind, do I ever do this?"

I moved forward, stretching my neck to bring my mouth again to hers. I inhaled a crisp gasp as the edge of her lips grazed my own. It was the last breath I would have for the better part of a minute. The next moment our mouths were as one. There was no more testing. We were no longer timid. Each poured into the other the adoration we had so long wanted to share.

I felt her inhale, sucking the air from with my mouth. Then she pressed our faces together. Our meshed lips began to investigate, experiment, confirm. I whimpered through our clamped mouths as I at last tasted my beloved. Closing my eyes, I sampled her flavor. It was like her scent had been the prior day; salty, sultry, thick, and oh so primal.

I leaned into her as if we could possibly be closer. My legs twitched as I felt an unknown excitement build within me. I felt a firm, burrowing softness between my lips. My eyes bolted wide as Sherry's tongue invaded my mouth. My eyelids dropped just as quickly. I began to suckle the trespassing appendage. Our lips and tongues explored one another. Soon our hands likewise roamed our bodies.

My courage buoyed, I thrust my hand beneath her shirt. It was no bashful venture. I knew what I wanted and, at long last, I knew she wanted it too. I moved my flattened hand across her fleshy abdomen at a deliberate pace until I brought my cupped palm upward beneath her breast. I found her flesh soft, pliable, succulent; pleasingly similar to the feel of my far smaller bosom. My thumb found her already hardening nipple. At the same instant her hands found the bottom of my blouse and began to lift the garment.

Sherry's disrobing of my torso brought a temporary end to the embrace of both lips and body. As the fabric cleared my extended arms, she dropped, tossing my blouse aside as she knelt. Her hands found the small of my back, pulling me toward her. I felt the cool of the air upon my bare torso. Looking down, I thought I could feel her eyes as well.

A host of questions rolled across my timid mind. Are my breasts too small? Am I too skinny? My ribs stick out too far, don't they? Oh, those moles on my right side, what if she...

My self-doubt evaporated in an instant as Sherry's mouth found the shallow cleft of my abdomen. The muscles of my stomach flexed for a second, before I compelled them to relax.

Sprinkling tender kisses that tickled much more than my skin, she moved her lips up my body, onto the tender flesh of my bosom. There her tongue joined her lips, kissing a spiral pattern around my tiny areola. Though her mouth moved ever closer to my nipple, her route was indirect. My hands moved to her shoulders, exerting a slight tug, urging her onward.

When, after three excruciating circles, he lips at last engulfed my swollen nub, I emitted a long moan. My back arched forward, begging her to suck more of my softness into her loving mouth. My hands slithered from her shoulders to her neck and then upward, into her carroty tresses. There, my digits writhed within her hair as my body began to writhe within her arms.

Sherry brought her hands around, beneath my breasts, cupping them, petting them, as she alternated her loving mouth from one to the other and back. My head fell onto hers. I nuzzled her scalp through her orange locks, gasping and groaning as I did so.

"I want to taste more than your breasts," Sherry hissed, snapping me from the selfish stupor.

I ran my tongue along my upper lip. "Me too."

She stood. "Let's go upstairs."

"Yes," I whispered. "Let's."

My hostess kicked off her shoes. I did the same. With a smile that said more than words, she took my hand and led me to the stairwell.

A minute later, Sherry turned to face me as we entered her bedroom. Her hands moved over her back, grasping the fabric over her shoulder blades. In a motion, the pullover was gone. As she tossed the garment aside, her breasts bounced with a splendor I had but imagined, before coming to rest in their full, feminine majesty.

For several seconds, I could but stare as she stood near her footboard. I had indeed seen her breasts, but only glimpses. Now I could see all of them. Now I could do more than see them. Yes, much more.

Sherry's head dropped, but her gaze did not. "Do you think I'm too heavy?"

My eyes widened. I swallowed, recalling my own insecurity in the parlor only minutes before as she had first viewed my partially exposed form. A dozen answers vied to find my tongue, and I rejected them all. I knew words alone would not do.

Moving forward, I moved my hands to her full, womanly hips. Resting with my palms on her widest point, I stretched upward to kiss her again. As I felt her arms wrap around my body I returned the embrace. I leaned into her. She took the cue. We fell as one onto her bed.

Landing with me on top, we rolled once across the mattress before our lips parted. "Face like a goddess," I whispered. "Body to match." I kissed her again and we rolled whence we had come.

We came to rest this time with Sherry atop me. Withdrawing her face from mine, she looked into my eyes. A lips-closed smile graced her face. I knew her confidence was back. Her hands found my waistline, and the seam of my shorts. Nimble fingers found the garment's button.

My body stiffened as I realized she was about to undress me completely. I gasped, then licked my lips, both in anticipation, and anxiety. I was petrified for three breaths before I moved my shaking hands toward my lover's shorts as she continued to remove mine.

Sherry's lips kept their graceful curve, but parted to reveal her teeth as I fumbled with the fastener. With a wiggle of her shoulders, she left my shorts partway down my thighs. She crawled up my form, granting my hands access to her zipper and my mouth access to much more.

Her beautiful mounds hung over my face for but a second before my lips found their apex. So long had I dreamed of having my mouth upon her bosom, I made no pretext to tease or caress. Forcing my lips wide, I drew as much of her soft, womanly flesh into my mouth as I could manage.

I played my tongue over the bounty within my mouth while my lips worked a steady, sumptuous massage. Forgoing any attempt to undress my lover, I moved my hands up her form, to caress that part of her bosom my mouth could not.

"Oh, yes," Sherry hissed. "Suck them, Grace. Love them. That's so good. Yes, just like that."

Where I was a moaner, my lover, I soon discovered, was a talker. She continued her wanton encouragement while I lavished my long-contained love upon her breasts. Her heartfelt praise enchanted me ever bit as much as her body. I was lost in the passion of giving. It felt so good to please another because I loved her, because I wanted to make love to her, and not because I felt bound by any obligation to do so.

I rode this state of euphoria for untold minutes, alternating my love between each of Sherry's beautiful breasts. So enthralled I was to finally be able to express my love for this woman that I think I should have continued to do so until time itself ended.

Thus I suckled, eyes closed, fingers caressing, oblivious to all the universe except my beloved Sherry, until I felt her fingers contact my flesh just below my breasts. I kept nursing, but my eyelids opened, the orbs beneath them wandering as she traced with one finger a tantalizing path down the center of my abdomen.