Cheryl and Meryl

There was a peculiar coda to this whole amazing affair.

About two months later, in mid-February, long after the young people had gone back to their respective colleges and left Daniel and Shirley alone to reacquaint themselves—sexually and otherwise—as husband and wife, there was a tentative knock on the door. It was on a Saturday afternoon, and Shirley was alone in the house, Daniel having gone off on some errand or other.

As she opened the door, she saw a short but curvy young woman standing on the doorstep. Streaks of tears had coursed down her face, and she looked like a little lost waif.

"May I help you?" was all Shirley could say.

The female gazed up at her. "Is—does Daniel Landon live here?"

"Yes," Shirley felt obliged to say. "May I ask—?"

"Are you his wife?" the woman said in a strange voice.

"Yes, I am," Shirley said tartly. "What exactly do you want? Who

are

you, anyway?"

With extreme reluctance, the woman said, "I—I'm Brenda Middleton."

Shirley froze in place, her face blank.

This is none other than my faithless husband's erstwhile mistress. The idea of her showing up here!

She now looked more carefully at her guest. Swathed as she was in a heavy winter coat, her face in a grimace of misery, Brenda still looked quite fetching. She also looked only a few years older than her twin daughters.

The young woman anticipated Shirley's objections.

"I guess you know who I am," she said. "Please don't hate me! I—I know that Daniel and I did a really bad thing, but that's all in the past! I haven't seen him for nearly a year. It's just— Oh, God, I don't know where else to turn!"

And Brenda now began to sob, almost to wail.

"Good heavens, girl," Shirley said harshly, "what's the matter with you?"

"My—my boyfriend," Brenda said, staring at the ground, "he assaulted me."

Shirley heaved a huge sigh.

I suppose I am expected to extend some gender solidarity to this wretched creature.

"Oh, all right, come inside," she said.

Brenda trudged in, following the older woman like a starving kitten. But once she doffed her coat, Shirley noticed that she was anything but starving.

Brenda Middleton, whether by accident or design, was dressed in a white angora sweater that accentuated her robust chest as few other articles of clothing could. Her wool skirt clung to her wide hips and exposed thighs and calves (tightly covered in leggings) that simultaneously conveyed a sense of virginity and of ripe fertility. As she gazed at her surroundings, plopping herself on the couch without invitation, she breathed:

"God, what a big and lovely house!"

"Thank you," Shirley said shortly. "Now why don't you tell me what exactly happened."

Brenda's look of wide-eyed awe instantly gave way to a resumption of anguish as her face crumpled.

"I've been living with this guy, Tony, for a couple of months. Maybe I moved in with him too fast, before I really knew him—but my own place wasn't very appealing, so I jumped at his invitation. He seemed nice at first, full of old-world courtesy. He's a first-generation Italian, and he seems to put all women on a pedestal. But I didn't realize what a temper he has! We got into this big fight, and he—he hit me!" Brenda choked out a gasping sob. "I knew I couldn't stay with him anymore, so I just left. I didn't even take anything with me!"

Shirley had lowered herself onto the couch, about a foot away from Brenda. "Well, that's a pretty bad thing he did," she said, peering at the other woman's face.

I actually don't see where he hit you—maybe there's a tiny scratch on your nose—but I suppose I have no choice but to take your word for it.

"But, um, don't you have any other place to go? Relatives, friends?"

Brenda shook her head, her full head of blond hair tossing as if in the wind. "Not really," she said. "I'm pretty much alone out here."

When her words didn't seem to move Shirley, Brenda went on.

"Look, I know you must think I'm a—a tart or something, but I'm really not a homewrecker! Daniel and I—well, we just stumbled into a relationship. I knew he was married, and I didn't want to be that kind of woman! But"—and once again Brenda let out a pitiable wail—"oh, God, I loved him! I

still

love him!"

Shirley looked at Brenda keenly. "And he loves you, I suppose?"

"I don't know. I think so. But even so, at first he didn't really want to—you know. I mean, he spoke really highly of you!"

"Did he now?" Shirley said with immense skepticism.

"He did! I swear her did! He thought you were really smart and pretty and a good mother and lots of other nice things."

"And this is how he shows his appreciation," Shirley said acidly.

"I'm telling you, we just got caught up in the moment! And we only did it a couple times!"

"Um, pardon my curiosity, but exactly

where

did you 'do' it?"

Brenda blushed crimson. "In motels, mostly. Once"—she went on with extreme reluctance—"in the office."

"In the office?"

"Only once! It was what you call a 'quickie.' Not really very satisfying to me, but he seemed to enjoy it."

"I daresay he did."

"But that's all over! I broke it off after only a few weeks. And once we learned that you'd found out— How

did

you find out, anyway?"

"I seem to recall looking at his credit card bill and finding those motel charges."

"Oh," Brenda said in a small voice. "Well, anyway, that was it! I not only said, 'It's over,' but I left the company. I had a bit of trouble getting another job, which is why I had to stay in this fleabag rooming house. Then I met Tony."

Shirley smirked maliciously at Brenda's tale of woe—but in fact, in spite of herself, her heart went out to her. This poor thing was so naive and innocent, so earnest and sincere. And she

had

been treated badly by both Daniel and this Tony person.

Brenda now did an extraordinary thing. She slipped off the sofa, fell to her knees, and dropped her head onto Shirley's skirt, throwing her arms around her waist. "Oh, please, please, Shirley! Just let me stay here for a little while! I don't have anywhere else to go! I won't be in the way—you can put me in the basement or something. Just—"

"Okay, okay," Shirley said, "you can stay. You don't have to beg."

Brenda looked up at Shirley as if she were some kind of divine savior. Her face immediately changed into one of almost ecstatic happiness. With a girlish cry, she leaped up, landed on Shirley's lap, took her head in her arms, and held it close to her chest. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Shirley was almost smothered by Brenda's heavy breasts, the outlines of which she could feel distinctly even though they were covered by a bra and the sweater.

"It's all right, dear," she said mildly. "You can stay for a week or two, until you find another place to live."

At those words, Brenda pulled Shirley's head away and, with a little mew of delight, pasted her lips with a long, deep kiss.

Shirley was more than a little taken aback. She couldn't recall ever fusing her lips with another woman's in the whole of her life, and certainly not to this length and intensity. And yet, while initially struggling to get out of Brenda's almost maniacal grasp, she found the sensation rather pleasant. The younger woman was apparently wearing a fruity perfume that invaded Shirley's nostrils, and the feel of those warm, soft, wet lips against hers—and those round, firm breasts against her collarbone—was far from unpleasant.

But then Brenda abruptly pulled away, giving Shirley a spooked expression. "Oh! I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to do that."

Shirley gazed up at the tear-stained face. She reached over to grab a Kleenex from the end table and wiped away the tears as if she were Brenda's mother.

"That's okay," Shirley said. "I'm not complaining."

A strange glint came into both women's eyes. Brenda slowly lowered her face to Shirley's, and their lips met again. At first the kiss was delicate, as both of their lips fluttered nervously. Then they both pressed their mouths together, and after a little while Shirley inserted a tongue into Brenda's open mouth.

When Brenda came out with a muffled moan, Shirley proceeded further. She slipped a hand under Brenda's skirt, found the waistband of the leggings in the middle of her abdomen, pulled them down (and her panties with them), and covered her pussy with four fingers. That pussy was surprisingly wet; and, as Brenda now started kissing Shirley all over her face and neck, Shirley inserted a finger or two into her vagina, stroked the damp labia up and down, and then fastened her thumb onto her clitoris. That elicited a low groan from Brenda, as she parted her legs and, with a single motion, peeled off her sweater to reveal a frilly white bra that showed an abundance of cleavage.

Shirley couldn't trouble herself to take the bra off, so she just buried her face in the tight space between those breasts, where some extremely fine, downy hairs tickled her nose. A few beads of perspiration gave off a heady body-scent as Shirley continued to stroke Brenda's sex. The younger woman was almost thrashing and bouncing on Shirley's lap as she received the heavenly stimulation—and then a sharp, prolonged cry not entirely dissimilar from the wail she had let out earlier came out of her mouth, and she bucked her hips and arched her back in the full absorption of a powerful and unexpected orgasm.

"Omigod!" she breathed. "Omigod, what have we done?"

But she was smiling broadly, and Shirley was smiling back at her.

"I guess," she said, "that's one way to feel better."

Both women laughed uproariously at that. Then, with a gleam of naughtiness in her eyes, Brenda stood up on unsteady legs, unclasped her bra, and then stripped herself of her skirt, leggings, and panties in one forceful gesture.

Shirley, looking at the naked girl in front of her, was duly impressed. It would have taken a man of far stronger moral fortitude than Daniel Landon to resist the ingenuous seductiveness of this sweet young thing, now standing with arms at her hips in the justifiable pride of desirable femininity.

But Shirley wasn't about to be merely an observer. Now standing up herself, she undressed slowly and deliberately as her companion watched her with avid eyes. Shirley was several inches taller than Brenda, and more slender—and, of course, she had at least fifteen years on her. But Brenda was devouring every inch of skin that Shirley was displaying in her informal striptease.

"You're so beautiful," Brenda whispered.

Shirley acknowledged the compliment with a nod. She assumed they would be heading upstairs to the master bedroom for a more comfortable session in a bed; but to her surprise, Brenda pushed her gently in the chest, causing her to fall back on the sofa. Then, falling again to her knees, she pried open Shirley's legs and buried her face in the older woman's muff.

Shirley expelled a moan of delight and surprise as that hot and slender tongue coated her own damp labia and clitoris. Brenda grabbed Shirley's hips as she inserted a tongue as deep into her vagina as she could. Then she got down to the serious business of licking and sucking and nuzzling her hostess to a suitable degree of arousal. That didn't take long, as the clear fluid leaking copiously out of Shirley's sex—encouraged by several fingers poked deeply into her pussy—indicated.

Shirley gazed intently at the head bobbing at her groin—and kept her eyes fixed on Brenda as the initial waves of her orgasm began to wash over her. She pressed her head even more closely against her fleshy delta as her climax exploded from her cleft all through her body; Brenda didn't stop the action of her lips and tongue until Shirley finally shoved her gently away, unable to endure any more stimulation.

She looked down at the younger woman in frank admiration.

"You must have done this before," she said.

Brenda's shy smile caused two cute dimples to reveal themselves in her cheeks. "Well, yes," she said. "I had a freshman roommate in college who was a lesbian, so I did it a few times with her."

"Why only a few?" Shirley asked.

"To be honest, I really didn't like her all that much. Anyway, I somehow felt it wasn't the thing to do. I mean, I do like guys a lot!"

"So do I. But there's a lot to be said for this, isn't there?" Shirley made a broad gesture that somehow took in their unexpected moments of passion. "And we're not done, are we?"

Brenda colored. "I—I hope not."

Shirley stood up, a little shaky on her feet, and took Brenda by the hand. "We, young lady, are going to get more comfortable."

She led her up the stairs to the master bedroom. When Brenda saw the big king-size bed, her eyes widened. After all, this was the place where Daniel and his wife had experienced intimacy for twenty years. Shirley, for her part, now made a careful scrutiny of the tempting young female.

Her first thought was:

I wonder why Brenda even wears a bra.

The young woman's ample breasts were so round and high that they did not seem to require any sort of support. She could almost have licked her own nipples merely by lowering her head. Shirley fleetingly thought they might be fake—but, as she stepped forward and seized them with her hands, she realized delightedly they were all too real. And that thick bush at her delta had clearly never seen the cruel blades of a razor.

The first thing Shirley did was merely hold Brenda close—and the pressing of each woman's breasts against the other was an ecstatic moment for both. Even though Brenda was several inches shorter than Shirley, they were still able to squirm and wriggle so that their boobs rubbed lasciviously together, causing each of them to renew the wetness between their legs all over again. Shirley made sure to stroke Brenda all over with questing hands—from face to shoulders to back to thighs to that gloriously firm, curvy bottom that must have sent Daniel into ecstasies.

As they collapsed on the bed, their lips glued together, they both explored each other's bodies with the avidity of thirsty travelers in a desert coming unexpectedly upon an oasis. Brenda traced a wet line with her tongue from Shirley's lips to her neck to her breasts, where she caused the older woman's nipples to swell and harden through firm but delicate sucking and nibbling. Shirley, eager to sample her partner's incredible breasts with her own mouth, urged Brenda to lie on her back as she slid down and seized both globes with her hands and alternately kissed and nuzzled each of them in turn, not omitting the extremely tender undersides.

Then, with a meaningful glance, she said, "I think it's time for sixty-nine."

Shirley allowed her partner to be on top, flopping onto her back and letting Brenda arrange herself comfortably on her. Brenda at once pasted her lips to Shirley's labia; she had not been fully satisfied from her previous sampling, and now absorbed to the full the scent and taste of this amazing woman's sex. She didn't neglect to seize Shirley's bottom with both hands and give them a good squeeze. Shirley followed suit, although she didn't have much choice in the matter: Brenda was shoving her own sex into Shirley's face as if to asphyxiate her.

Now began a session that seemed to go on forever—and, in fact, went on for close to an hour. Each woman alternated between gentle and frantic stroking and licking, depending on her sense of whether her partner was approaching a climax or not; Brenda's orgasms, Shirley noted with amusement, were signaled by an incredibly high-pitched squeal, as if she were an operatic soprano aiming for a high C. Shirley could have sworn that she elicited three such squeals out of Brenda over that hour. Her own orgasms—at least two—were somewhat more subdued, but she let it be known that Brenda's ministrations were well appreciated.

It was at this point that, unbeknownst to the two women, Daniel walked into the house.

At first, when he saw the array of discarded clothing on the living-room floor, he was alarmed: was Shirley having an impromptu affair with some man? But then he noticed that all the clothing was feminine, and some of it was stuff he didn't recognize. Puzzled, he then began hearing moaning and mewing sounds coming from the upstairs bedroom—and the producers of those sounds were clearly both female.

This was how he came upon his wife and his former mistress eating each other out with gusto on the bed he occupied with his wife.

At first he didn't recognize the woman on top, since her head was buried in Shirley's pussy. But something about the contours of this person's body evoked a sharp memory in him.

"Brenda?" he cried. "Jesus, is that you?"

"Yup," she said, barely willing to lift her head up from Shirley's sex to reply. Daniel could see that her entire face, even her forehead, was coated with his wife's juices.

"Wh-what exactly is going on here?" he cried.

This time it was Shirley who deigned to stop her licking for a moment. "What does it look like, you dummy?"

Strange little quacking sounds proceeded from Daniel's throat. Then, as a slow smile spread over his face, he said, "Um, can I join in?"

Shirley threw the question to her partner. "Can he join in, Brenda?"

"I guess so," Brenda said between licks.

Daniel surveyed the situation briefly to figure out how best he could fuse his body with the others. In a daze he peeled off his clothing—and he was unsurprised that his cock was actually quivering with anticipatory excitement. Then he sidled over to the nightstand, opened the top drawer, took out that familiar blue jar, and went over to the flailing females.

He coated Brenda's anus with a goodly supply of the white stuff, then clambered onto the bed. He was in her in a flash.

Brenda let out a choking sound as she continued to glue her lips to Shirley's nether lips. Now, just as Meryl had done in Daniel's threesome with his daughters, Shirley got a thrillingly close look at the anal penetration that was occurring only inches from her face. In and out, in and out slid Daniel's slicked cock as he forced it almost to the hilt into Brenda's sphincter. After her initial surprise, she seemed entirely comfortable with the procedure, and Shirley thought wryly that the younger woman's allowing Daniel to perform this act was probably one strong reason for his betrayal of her. But that was in the past, and right now Shirley just enjoyed the view.

But pretty soon things got more complicated. As his climax was approaching, Daniel abruptly pulled out of Brenda's bottom and sprayed his wife's face with copious amounts of his emission. At that, Brenda whirled around and began licking it off of her face, giving Daniel's cock a few more tugs to get the last remaining drops out of it—and she licked the tip for good measure. Then, as if suddenly embarrassed at her lewdness, she covered her mouth and said between her fingers, "Oops! That was pretty naughty of me."

"You were fabulous!" Daniel enthused. "

Both

of you were fabulous!" Then, after a pause: "But, um, I didn't realize you were inclined this way."

"I didn't either," Shirley said matter-of-factly. "Brenda's had some experience in this sort of thing, but I haven't."

"You were like an old pro, Shirley!" Brenda gushed.

Shirley didn't exactly like that word "old," but she took the compliment in the spirit in which it was intended.

When things had settled down, Shirley explained to Daniel the reason for Brenda's arrival. Daniel got so angry hearing of this Tony person's abuse of his former inamorata that he wanted to go over to his place right then and beat him up; but cooler heads prevailed. It was getting toward dinnertime anyway, and everyone was hungry.

It was quickly decided that Brenda would stay on with the married couple indefinitely.