Cindy's Offering - Sacrament

The days lingered with little to look forward to except the nights when only my dreams are true. At four, I was labeled an orphan with no idea what it meant, but the people around me were content. My brand didn't care I was frightened. Instead I often dreamed my parents would rescue me from the monsters under my bed. Then one day, all my dreams changed.

That morning the room felt uncommonly cold. For months my only friends had been blocks of forlorn yellow, solitary blue and invisible green and they began talking with me again. As I proudly stacked the blocks of wood higher than I had ever done before, the door to the activities room abruptly swung open. A pretty lady with sparkling eyes and a cheerful smile appeared with a petite platinum blonde girl by her side.

The little girl gripped the pale yellow cloth of the woman's dress above her; as if it was the last thing she would ever touch. I knew what was about to happen, I had witnessed far too much. I wanted to help, but feared leaving the safety of suddenly silent, little wooden blocks wouldn't help matters much.

After her flailing, screaming and tears retreated, short breaths of sucking air and a sniffling nose emerged. Comforting women with various opinion consoled the little girl's sad event, but with little effect.

She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen and a feeling of calm rushed through me. Then I wondered; 'how could it be, a girl like a dream, could enter me so easily?' Her name was Cindy and the moment I saw her I became her best friend, but she didn't know it yet.

Cindy, I thought, simply needed a friend. On that day in kindergarten, I, Carol Montgomery, a lonely ward of the state, and fearful of ugly monsters creeping under my bed, became Cindy's best friend, forever.

After a few weeks we had built a stronger bond. There were times she amazed me with her touch. Her skin was cool and so white and pure I wanted to be like her in so many ways but I knew I never would.

I liked my mane of wavy hair and often played with it, but Cindy loved it and would gently run it through her fingers like strands of blackened silk. My first gift to Cindy was my raven black mane. In that moment her sky blue eyes became mirrors of purity straight from Heaven and were never the same.

Six days later I was adopted and frightened I'd never again see my dearest friend. The next days were a whirlwind of settling in and my mind and heart were directionless once again. My new parents were over protective and I felt trapped in a world of adults longing to be held in the arms of a tiny platinum blonde girl with a magical touch.

As luck would have it and possibly divine intervention, my new parents decided I could remain in attendance at Martha Ewing's Academy. I was elated, as was Cindy. Her long tender embrace proved she had become a part of me I just could not resist.

Each morning was a celebration of our reunion and our friendship further kindled. Cindy entered our world each day wearing the same clothes and I wondered why she was never troubled. When our eyes made contact we transformed the space with smiles, hugs and giggles not caring the manner of our dress or the portrait of affection painted. We were completely unaware a heartless headmistress with an agenda was watching our every move.

Out of nowhere the simple act of touching Cindy was deemed a sin. Suddenly our friendship became our prison. I never thought holding another girl's hand so evil, but so said a woman the adults called; Miss Gideon.

We soon discovered we could hide our world from those around us. We began slipping away to places in the shadows to simply talk and listen. We'd compare our lives, passions, fears and places we wanted to visit, and did so swiftly to avoid humiliation.

Over the next few weeks our lives were smothered in a hazy mist of scrutiny, until the day I was told I was moving to a place I never knew existed. I ushered Cindy into a backroom closet, closed the door then blurted the news. We were discovered embracing and I never felt so abandoned and abused.

After my new parents were told I had to be closely watched for I fancied little girls I cried in vain while pleading our friendship was real. I screamed out the words for all to hear, "I love her!" I couldn't have imagined how painful the ordeal or how deep and hopeless it made me feel.

Despite our temporary separation, we managed to hang on and by the time we were in elementary school, the only things mattering were our happiness and our special brand of closeness.

Once again the matters of life unfolded in our favor when we discovered our homes were merely blocks away from each other. Walking to my friend's house each time was like a journey to a friendly foreign land. I only feared the edge of the woods near the road to Cindy's house, and I feared the woods with haunting passion.

One day, Cindy's mother suddenly disappeared. I never saw Cindy so lost and bewildered. I didn't know what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to support her. I could only stand and wonder while holding Cindy's hand if her mother had simply ventured to a friendly foreign land.

While shopping at a grocer with my mother, Cindy abruptly changed. I wondered why she crouched behind a stack of cans hiding from what I couldn't see through. After she revealed she saw her mother kissing another lady, I knew there was something I could do. I decided Cindy needed to discover life from another point of view.

One spring day we were playing on a swing. The air was crisp, the birds were chirping and the sun was warm against the gentle wind of spring. I asked Cindy if she had ever played, kitty in the grass. She looked puzzled, shrugged her shoulders, shook her head then asked, "There's kitties in the grass?"

My conduct might have been far too much for her to comprehend all at once and my words not explicit enough to explain. The feeling of being loved by the wet grass was a harmony I had experienced many times past. I felt Cindy needed to experience the feeling, if not but only once. I couldn't convince my best friend to share my splendor and decided it far too futile to urge her any further.

A few months later, I was walking to Cindy's house to see if she wanted to play with dolls. The path to Cindy's forced me to take vigilant steps with a thumping heart at the edge of the scary woods. With hastened steps I managed to make it to the picket fence in front of Miss Roger's. My fear quickly vanished when the lady's tabby appeared to capture my attention.

Taking the time to smooth the coat of an animal of grace had become nostalgic bliss. As Ruffles rubbed, purred then meowed under my palm, Cindy silently approached us.

"Guess what Carol?" she excitedly asked from behind me.

Cindy's voice was always calming and I marked my mind to take the time to one day sincerely thank her. When I looked over my shoulder and saw her blue shorts and white blouse, I somehow knew we were joined at the mind and there would be no need to tell her.

"We put on the same clothes today...we look like twins." Cindy offered cheerfully as she squat beside me to pet purring Ruffles.

When I played with dolls I pretended to breastfeed them. When Cindy played with dolls, she caressed them. I never dreamed there was a reason for our behavioral difference. Over time, we simply stopped playing with dolls. We never knew why and never bothered to ask each other the reason.

The day she convinced me to venture into the woods was the scariest day of my life. I always thought a lurking monster would eat me and Cindy wouldn't be able to put my body back together after the monster spit out the parts.

The boys in the neighborhood always hinted about a clearing in the middle of the woods where monsters feared to go. They never offered us a clue how to get there. I nervously followed Cindy as my heart pounded in my chest, letting my brave friend lead the way through the thick underbrush. On our journey to an imaginary land my mind began to ponder, 'is there really magical sand?' I wanted to believe there were indeed sacred places where no monsters would dare show their sharp pointy teeth and ugly wrinkled faces.

I'll never understand how Cindy convinced me nor why I agreed to venture into the scary place that day, but I proved to myself I wasn't afraid to stand in a clearing of pure white sand and doubt my best friend's purity. After realizing we were lost in the woods and didn't know the way out, I offered the only thing I could to the four boys before us. Cindy shivered in fear while crying her eyes out as I stood in a circle of magical sand with my shorts and panty at my ankles and pleaded, "Just pull them all the way down and the boys will show us the way out."

I had no clue or reason to believe Cindy had questioned my integrity. It took weeks of encouragement and constant persistence to convince my best friend, to believe, at least boys were simply human.

When Cindy's breasts started to grow she feared they might become the size of her mother's. I had no issue with large breasts and didn't care one way or the other. I was cherishing constantly stiff nipples and the peculiar attention they harvested. Little did we know our breasts would grow to satisfy cups of 34 C, despite are other differences.

I discovered self-gratification without thinking. Anything useful was used. One day I noticed a zucchini resting on the counter. My face heated and a naughty tingle zapped my loins. Zucchinis quickly became my favorite vegetable.

I accepted Cindy's cautious approach to the opposite sex and knew she was merely coping and she accepted the fact I enjoyed the attention in a way she thought repulsive. I began to deeply believe we actually cherished our differing characteristics.

One uneventful Saturday we had nothing to do. I suggested we dress up in skimpy clothes and go to the grocer. As she stood before me in a blue ruffled rib tickler, white hot pants and high heel pumps she said she looked ridiculous. I thought she looked like a platinum blonde movie star and far beyond gorgeous. Then she used a word I never heard before to describe our sultry illusion.

After her sky blue eyes scanned the minimal cloth on my body she sweetly whispered while adjusting the collar of my blouse to make it lay perfect, "we look like prostitots."

The conflicting attention we received took us by surprise. The bagboys as well as male customers gawked at us lustfully. The piercing glares from our gender were something we never considered. Cindy was apprehensive and refused, but I was delighted to give an effeminate boy my phone number. We abandoned a fully filled cart for Jesse to decipher before we sashayed out of the store giggling with differing euphoria.

Jesse called the very next day and we talked for nearly four hours. It was harder than I thought to place the handset on the cradle. I closed my bedroom door, placed the pillows on the floor then pondered my situation. While the feeling of being caressed by a boy with reddish hair, I became lost in lusty adoration.

Somehow when dating we became referees of each other's actions. We always double dated for the sake of caution. It was our cardinal rule as well as the boys' attraction. Cindy never questioned my intentions nor did I question her lack of them. One of the boys would always depart without any satisfaction.

One night, I convinced Cindy to sneak out to an all-night carnival with twin boys. On the walk home, Cindy asked me where she could find steel panties with a lock. When I suggested chastity belts were a myth Cindy seemed disappointed, but the tingling I felt inside was from Brandon's flawless performance.

On a hot August day Cindy's parents were at work and Cindy and I were without supervision. I wasn't about to let the moment evaporate into the thin hot air. After calling Jesse, our first double date with a solitary boy was set in motion.

Cindy was apprehensive about the circumstances and stood guard at her bedroom door like a faithful canine. Seconds after our kiss, Jesse suddenly darted from the bedroom then dashed out the front door. Cindy slinked into the room, bopped me on my head and said nothing as she sat on her neatly made bed. Her silence sent a shivering fear through me like a howling winter's wind.

Junior high school became our moment of displeasure. We were far beyond reconciliation. It never dawned on either of us truancy was an issue. A rude awakening tapped us both when we were assigned our seats in seventh grade to repeat the monotonous motions.

In high school the popular girls dubbed us the salt and pepper sisters. We wore the trademark with forged royalty. Cindy was considered the salt of our duet for the obvious reason. I was the pepper because of my obvious reputation. Neither of us enjoyed school life, most likely due to callous labels reducing nobility. We managed to barely grab diplomas and ran toward the door not looking back or believing our lives were deeply entangled.

One year after high school graduation Cindy and I joined some of our old classmates for some fun in a spooky graveyard. It was the oldest cemetery for miles around with gravestones dating back to 1820. We slipped through a hole in the fence at St. Christopher's Cemetery for the purpose of scaring each other, but my plan was far more wayward.

I was hiding from Shannon behind a cold headstone. I thought him perfect for what I had planned under the light of a shimmering moon. I had heard nerds actually studied the opposite gender and I thought him prefect for after midnight splendor. I never dreamed another soul would suddenly be standing near me. When I heard a twig snap, I turned to face the noise, looked up and what I saw sent a deep erotic thrill though me and away went my breath.

'My God,' I thought as my heart began to pound in my chest and my loins began to quiver.

Something banal popped out of my mouth then I had two directions to go. Down and further down. It was love at first sight. His name was Bobby. He was the cemetery's night watchman and my carnal life was about to change. I wanted to pull him deeper into my carnality and over the threshold of animalistic as far and fast as imaginable.

I ended up on top of him and Reverent O'Reilly's grave. The orgasms were highly spiritual as was the following afterglow. The next morning Cindy asked why I was tickling a man in a place so deadly. I didn't have the courage to tell my best friend, I was consuming a man who captured my future clearly.

I never dreamed I would witness the day Cindy bid farewell to virginity. The rearview mirror defended my blouse while the floorboard guarded my panty. Bobby and I were performing popular dance on the seat of his buddy's pickup truck. My stiffened nipples slow danced with Bobby's tongue, and as his finger did the bump with my clitoris, my anus did the hustle with his thumb.

I glanced up and saw platinum blond hair rhythmically brushing the cab's rear window and felt the truck gently wobble to the rhythm of a dance more ancient. I knew the soul behind Cindy as well as his reputation, but I deeply sensed, she didn't care or knew his name was Vincent.

The day I broke the news to my stepparents I was moving out to live with Bobby, my stepfather tossed all my clothes and belongings into a large metal trashcan. He placed the can on the front porch, wished me luck, slammed the door then locked it.

I walked to Cindy's home then asked for a ride to my future. Shortly thereafter she and her father along with my trashcan and me were off to Bobby's apartment. After explaining the way, Cindy's father drove while Cindy chatted about things for the life of me I honestly couldn't remember.

"You actually did it!" Bobby said excitedly as I stood at the doorway to wicked expectations while gazing at his growing lump.

After thanking Cindy's dad for the ride and hugging my best friend forever, Bobby closed; chain locked then dead bolted the door. The trashcan, containing the garbage of my life so far remained on the front porch in quite solitude.

We ran to the bedroom, stripped off our clothes then jumped into bed for endless fornication. I was so numb and cramping by the evening of the second night I told Bobby I couldn't do it anymore. I never thought I would ever need to take a break from fucking. I was only fooling myself.

I didn't see Cindy for nearly six months and the time became my past in an instant. I felt incredibly guilty. I had abandoned our friendship in favor of relentless fellatio, cunnilingus and copulation.

Summoned by guilt, I called Cindy one day and it was if we had never parted. We began talking on the phone every day after she finished her time as a waitress. I never felt bad I cut our conversations short when Bobby came home after work, because I needed to fuck him.

One day, Cindy totally shocked me. She was getting married to a guy named David and asked me to be her maid of honor. I didn't feel honorable at all. I felt more like a sex doll at night, a relentless masturbating sex fiend during the day and a terrible friend to Cindy. I had no idea why Cindy would consider me an honorable maiden. But I was there for the wedding of my best friend forever, while proudly displaying my fucker.

A few months later, Cindy and her new husband moved into the east side of the next duplex to the west. I was elated she had moved into the neighborhood and we could be together at last.

Although I was spending wicked times with Bobby in bed at night, Cindy and I were together during the days her husband was out of town working. I didn't pleasure myself at all during that time. I was paying my penitence by being a best friend to Cindy.

On the Ides of March that year, things changed. A young, tall and muscular man moved into the vacant duplex next door to Bobby and me. His apartment was adjacent to Cindy's place with a window overlooking her front yard. He seemed huge from a distance and I noticed him spending more and more time with Cindy.

I thought it odd a few days later Cindy was openly working her plants in her yard with a man other than her husband. I felt, as her friend, I had to leave her to her own affairs and not interfere with her intention. The suspense of not knowing where my friend was traveling through life began driving me to the brink of insanity.

One morning Cindy stopped by and we began chatting over the fence about our new neighbor. I was told excitedly his name was Danny. I could immediately tell Cindy was having no problems coping with her attraction toward her new hero. All she talked about for nearly an hour was the answer to her relentless prayers had suddenly appeared before her.

When Danny finally emerged from his front door, Cindy motioned him to come to her. I thought the large lump in the handsome man's trousers was her driving force but when I saw Cindy's adoring eyes and her tender little girl tugs on him, I instantly knew. Cindy was deeply in love with Danny, but at the time, he had no clue.

Bobby and I invited Cindy and Danny over that night and Bobby prepared a fish diner with beer libations. The conversation at the table began innocently at first. Cindy and I began teasing the men by discussing girly things then the subject morphed to pornography. When Cindy began chatting about her worthless sex life then mentioned she never experienced orgasm, her right hand vanished from the table.

As I adored the subtle curves of Cindy's breasts I fondled Bobby's penis under the bed sheet covering the table. Bobby ejaculated in my hand halfway through Cindy's tale. Bobby always ejaculated massive amounts of semen for a man with an average size penis and I had to thoroughly wash my hands before touching anything in the kitchen, and to my surprise, so did Cindy.

The next few days were tempests of drama. One night David finally admitted he was leaving Cindy for a woman named Linda. The next morning after punching her in the abdomen he dashed out in a rush then raced away in a screeching and thundering old, red pickup truck.