Chapter 01: Violet's Tit
My breathing was labored, almost panting, and as I lay back on the small child-like daybed, I was thinking nothing other than the pleasure I was receiving.
With a smile, a giggle, and a squeak, my orgasm crested and my eyes glazed over softly and I took a deep breath.
The source of my pleasure, my best friend Trin was softly licking at the inside of my thighs in a dedicated manner, taking long soft swipes with her tongue. She moved into me more, and lapped at the outer part of my cleft, her face covered with a soft dewy combination of sweat and my juices. Her long bangs were matted at the tips and stuck to her face, which was flush red.
She softly delivered a kiss to the top of my cleft, where the pubic hair was thick and bushy. I took some deep breaths. She lay her head on the inside of my thigh where it had fallen before and led to receiving my first pleasure from another woman.
The television, a tiny nine incher flickered some utterly cheesy science fiction flick that I had picked up. Trin read something on the back of the tape, and had watched it before I did, and then told me it would be unsuitable for James, my son.
Trin had a liberal, progressive streak a mile long, and for her to say such a thing was a big deal. She'd normally just give him her standard lecture, which let James know it was even better than normal. In this particular one, women were getting hacked up in some bizarre sexual ways that were incredibly degrading. Trin wouldn't go for that plan, and she knew I wouldn't either.
So we ended up in her corner bedroom, sprawled out on her bed to watch it. It was hot, the late afternoon of a May Sunday in Arizona. I was dressed in a short dress, and Trin was in a loose top and a skirt of her own devising, billowy and long to hide her corpulence. She been watching from the edge of the bed on the foot and then had curled up on it as the trite film played. I was half asleep and so was she, and we tossed and turned in the heat. She'd ended up using her hands as a pillow, then a pillow, then had moved over onto my leg when I shifted. I wasn't wearing underwear, and knowing Trin, she wasn't either. As she rolled over she looked up at me to say something and saw that I wasn't wearing any.
Trin stuttered as she saw my bush and I smiled at her. I'd known for a while she wanted into me, and this was my way of teasing her. For her faults, Trin tried to be very polite, and felt ashamed she'd even seen what she did. It had been seven long years since I'd thrown out my drunken boyfriend and two since Trin's husband had died.
I'd been hot, and sticky and Trin's head on my leg felt good. I had watched on the cheesy sci-fi flick these two women having simulated sex, and normally it wouldn't do a damn thing for me, but Trin was there. I could feel the laborious breathing from her massive body as it laid on my legs. I had felt her hot breath, and I felt her sweat, the sweat of the big woman. In some ways, it was very masculine.
Without speaking, for I knew that I couldn't bring myself to ask her, I simply nodded. With slow, tender kisses she brought me pleasure over the course of forty minutes or so, consuming me with relish. Her soft, pudgy fingers capped by her hard acrylic nails probed me with the utmost love and compassion. That tongue visited every orifice it could find, softly holding my legs apart. Trin, if nothing else, was a connoisseur of the flesh.
The air was still, and stifling like the early heat of the year as the tape clicked and began to rewind. The whirring noise oddly complimented the bubbling from Trin's goldfish tank to create a sort of white noise. I felt a chill, a shiver of fear, but not from me. It came from Trin.
It dropped the room's temperature like an air-conditioner and I could feel moisture on my legs. I looked down as big weepy tears drifted out of her eyes and ran onto her thigh. She licked at her thick lips and used a hand to try and clean herself off. I heard her speak, but did not actually hear the words. It was all so very surreal and then shattered by the reality of my son pounding on the door.
"Hey! When can a guy get some food around here." James yelled, in his fifteen year old belligerence.
"Whenever he gets off his own ass and fixes it. You want to be treated like an adult," Trin bellowed in equal defiance, "act like one."
James couldn't hear the crack in her voice. He couldn't see the shudder of her lips as she used whatever energy she had to drive him away, to keep this moment with me alive.
She moved her head sitting up on an elbow, and she turned away from me, taking deep breaths. She muttered, "love that boy to pieces, but sometimes his timing ain't so good."
I could only nod. I was hungry actually, and needed something cold to drink. Trin felt me move and sat up. She did not face me. I didn't know why. I spoke to her.
"I'm a little hungry myself. You want something?" She said.
She turned a bit, and looked past me. She did this when she was upset and knew she was going to cry again. Her sarcastic side, sharp and witty was poised on the tip of her tongue, but she shook her head from left to right. Trin was fighting herself, as she often did. She was like that. She knew the power of language, and the power of words.
My hands trembled and softly touched the tears of her face.
Her dam burst like a floodgate, tears sobbing like an angry river. Over, and over she apologized and begged for forgiveness. I put an arm around her shoulder as she sobbed into my shoulder and then kissed her on the forehead. It was hardly the kiss of passion, but it was what Trinity needed. She was my friend, and I loved her, and I didn't want to see her in pain, but didn't know why she was in pain.
"Trin." I said softly.
Her massive head turned. Her eyes were red, lined with smeared mascara.
"It's okay." I replied to myself.
"You're sure?" She asked, swallowing.
"Yes I'm sure." I said.
She blinked some and her face grew pale.
"You're a mess." I said.
She gave me a half smile, that made me feel good, and I knew she felt better for it, despite herself. I took a deep breath.
"Is it going to be okay?" She said. "Violet, you're my best friend. I'd go through hell and back for you. I have to know you don't hate me."
My head dipped back as if she'd hit me. "Trin I don't hate you. I said yes. I gave consent."
She nodded only softly.
"Why the tears?" I asked.
"Just scared." She replied.
"Of?"
"You." She said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm scared of rejection. I'm scared you'll leave me, kick me out, tell me you hate me. I'm scared you won't let me touch you again. I'm scared of what James will think. I love you. I always have."