Hello,
Thank you for taking the time to read the story below. This offers some backstory on both women and attempts to fill in some of the gray areas of the previous story. Huge shout out to BriM_0261 for editing my work. He really helped here and is an excellent to work with.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The faint light of predawn passing through the nearly closed blinds gave the otherwise dark room some illumination. The clock on the wall said it was early. The room was eerily quiet. No sounds at all, not from outside the house either. And certainly, no sounds from her room. Running her hands down her body, she found herself nude. Without looking she ran her hand across the bed to hit nothing. Twisting her head slightly to check, no one was beside her. On the pillow she found a note on the pillow next to her. It only had a kiss, in her own favorite color. The pillows were covered with long brown hair. Throwing back the bedspread and sheets there were telltale signs of sex. Sitting back on her haunches she said under her breath, "Amanda was here."
Lying back, she relaxed. A Cheshire Cat smile creased her face. Her body warmed as the vivid memories of her beautiful friend came to mind: how they spent the night, arms and legs tangled, giving and receiving sexual gratification; how her friend rewrote her known pleasure limits; how when they finally stopped, what her friend felt like in her arms as they snuggled off to sleep.
Rinsing the evening's sex off her, she thought of her sordid history with Amanda. Camila was the lone Mexican at a Connecticut high school. The term Mexican outside of the Southwest could be derogatory and the snobs in her small town treated her like a peasant class charity case. Aside from the annoying racial stereotypes, she was also fat, a complete nerd, and awkward. Being fat, she was ridiculed in gym class. Outside of her classes, people spoke to her like she was incapable or just slow. And forget any of the boys. They never knew she existed unless it was a chess club nerd with halitosis or monster sized zits. Sometimes both.
A few years after high school, Camila graduated from college where she earned a business degree. Tired of the east coast snobbery, she relocated to Las Vegas and worked her way up in a casino HR department. She then went from a tiny apartment to buying a starter house. From a fat, nerdy, awkward teen to a confident, capable woman enjoying a life she built.
In contrast to Camila, Amanda was that girl in high school everyone dreaded, simply because they all wanted to be her. Honor program, cheerleader captain, bright eyed, focused, and personable. And to piss the world off, unrealistically sexy. At 5'8", with perfect skin, a fit, athletic body, tight, upturned butt with dimpled cheeks, and oversized bust. Seemingly only to be a bitch, in the locker room after gym or cheer practice, she'd make it a point to take longer showers and tell stories in the nude. To top it off, the girls she didn't like were mean, petty, and vindictive too, with Camila being one. After graduating early, she married her sweetheart, got pregnant, and was on a dream-like trajectory. Then tragedy struck in a car accident that took her husband and future child.
At 25, she moved to Las Vegas, met a guy, got a job, and tried to rebuild. Yet a few years later, she was still skipping along with a guy that turned out to be a dirt bag loser. Working as a hostess at private card games could be unsteady. Rich customers complained if she wouldn't flirt back, or more. Russians mainly, but some Italians and Argentine men all wanted the buxom brunette that greeted them.
Camila spotted her at a gym one day and said nothing. Then again at the grocery a week later. Finally at a coffee shop she broke the ice and struck up a conversation. Amanda still came off as snooty. A year and a few conversations later they were friendly. Then one insomniac night alone at an out of the way diner, Amanda walked in, sat down, ordered a coffee, and told Camila her story. Near dawn, they exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. Over the next few years, Camila offered to help Amanda get steady work at various firms. Amanda's guy held her back, and later, beat her. That was she last straw, so, she sought out Camila for a place to rest and recover. That one night of rest turned into an epic sexual experience for both ladies and Amanda's first lesbian experience.
Now the next morning, fresh from rinsing off, Camila hit the gym. When she finished, she hit the store where she ran into Amanda. After a brief and awkward conversation over shopping, they headed back to Camila's house. Once inside, Amanda asked if she could use the shower. Camila laughed and asked if she wanted company. It just started from there. Under the water the two ladies hugged tightly. Lips wrestled with lips as hands ran over now familiar terrain. Amanda dropped to her knees and licked Camila to an orgasm. Then spun her about and licked her from behind, again to an orgasm. After the shower, Camila brought her lover over the edge repeatedly. Amanda might be a novice at lesbianism, but she was a quick learner. The ladies moved from slow, passionate lovemaking to furious sex in several rooms of the house. By Sunday both were spent.
Amanda left with a promise to be in touch. Yet it was many months before she walked back into Camila's life to ask her to be a plus one at a family wedding for her new boss.
Camila spent Friday evening getting a manicure and pedicure. Smiling to herself at the joy.
Saturday morning came quicker than she thought. After two hours of training at the gym and a quick bite to replenish, she showered and washed her hair. Standing nude before the mirror and brushed out her hair. Her bright red nails flashed on her hands. Sitting nude in her chair she looked deeply at the reflection staring back. Camila could not recall how long it had been since she began preparing to embark on today's activity of getting completely made up. During a normal week, she was the frumpy HR lady that went to the gym in the evening. Cheap metal-framed glasses that any grandpa would love, plain nails, and an abundance of hair clips were her norm. Today, while not her normal activity, was any woman's grandest activity. Days like today remind women around the world why being a woman is better than anything. Days like today are not to be discarded or treated frivolously. The small world she lived in and those she didn't yet know, were about to meet the finely crafted image of Camila, dressed to perfection, painted like a masterpiece, and sculpted by years of early morning yoga, endless miles of cardio, years of rolling jujitsu, and a religiously followed diet.
Checking the clock, she had plenty of time before Amanda would be by to pick her up. Two hours later she was transformed from a drab HR lady to a perfectly painted and sculpted, luscious, wonderfully curved Latina. Her lingerie, dress, shoes, and purse all in off-white, were purchased for just this purpose. Camila slipped on her shoes. A twirl in the mirror and the transformation was complete. Stuffing her emergency makeup in the purse, she headed to the door just as Amanda pulled up. Amanda's mouth dropped when Camila sat down in the car. She made a comment about needing armed security to fend off the boys. Behind her Princess Grace-style black sunglasses, Camila stared straight ahead, a smirk across her velvety red lips.
Amanda, too, looked unbelievable. Her calf-length dusty-rose colored dress complimented every curve. It looked like she had her hair and makeup professionally done for the occasion.
The ladies drove in silence to the Catholic church. Walking through the parking lot, it seemed that everyone from the valets to the groomsmen stopped to appreciate the spectacle of womanhood. They received smiles and nods from males and females as they walked in and took their seats. Amanda's boss made it a point to introduce himself and his family to the ladies. Compliments were exchanged and eyes inched over their bodies.
Amanda mentioned that she hadn't been in a church since she left Connecticut. Camila whispered that she attends another church on Sundays. The ceremony and reception were lovely; Camila hadn't been to one of either in years. Either one could have upstaged all the other women, but combined, they quickly became the center of discussion. Neither was up for dancing, so they sat and networked with some connected people. When appropriate, they said goodbye to the few that mattered then pulled an Irish goodbye to the whole affair.
Driving down Camila's Street, Amanda made a comment about being desperate to change and wash up, then relax and catch-up, all-in hopes of getting Camila to invite her into her house. Camila had her pull into the garage. Once inside, they just looked at one another, neither saying anything. Both leaned in and kissed the other full on the lips. Amanda pulled Camila in close as Camila cupped Amanda's face. They clumsily walked, still embracing and kissing, back towards Camila's home.
Inside her bedroom, they paused their kissing so Camila could unzip Amanda's dress. Amanda reached down and pulled Camila's dress over her head. She gasped at the lingerie clinging to her every curve. Amanda ran her fingers from the top of the bra strap to the heavy sides, down her ribs to her hips, before wrapping her arms around her. Putting one hand across her back and another behind her head, Amanda kissed her again, this time with a slow exploration. Their tongues met, wrestled slowly, passionately, for a minute, if not longer.
Camila stepped out of her shoes and now had to look up towards Amanda who was already the taller woman and still had her heels on. Reaching behind Amanda's neck, she lifted the dress up and over her head. Beneath, Amanda also wore a matching set of sheer lingerie, minus the panties. Each looked the other over lustfully. Taking Amanda's hand, Camila lay back seductively on her bed. Amanda followed, moving up so they could resume kissing. Lips and tongues resumed the passionate battle until they moved in harmony. Amanda straddled Camila's prone body. Her hands passed over the bra-encased breasts below her. Camila's skin felt like it was on fire. Her hands followed taut, mocha skin from the breasts to the wide hips. There they found the ties of Camila's G-string. Amanda ran a finger from the hip to the center and spread her fingers to touch the softness of Camila's belly and the white hot upper pubic area. Then back, under Camila, to the spot where the strings converged and descended into her dark, thick bottom.
