AUGUST HEAT - Part 2
(By Unknown)
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 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.
To be Continued