"That was delicious," thought Celeste as she climbed off the bus. Those creamy thighs, that delicate pink, the quiet sounds as that delectable cheerleader tried to hide her joy from the bus driver. Even in the back seat, the last riders on board, they worried, but now it was just the cheerleader enjoying her memories for another 20 minutes heading home.
She thanked the bus driver for her suitcase. He didn't seem to have noticed anything, but maybe he was just discreet. Celeste worried for the cheerleader for a moment, alone on the bus with the driver, but figured it would all be all right, this time.
"Changing the world, one woman's orgasm at a time," had become her motto over the last couple of years. First that gorgeous flapper of an actress at the film festival, then her elderly neighbor Gladys, and then...
Gladys. Oh. Right. She was here for her funeral, but was pretty sure that no one knew what Gladys had taught her. Tongues and tits and patience. Her family knew that she was ahem "fond of women", but didn't seem to notice her very local activities.
Three days at home, with a funeral in the middle. How many orgasms could she share with women?
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When she got home, Celeste pleaded "bus dirt" and went right to the shower. Thinking of her buxom friend on the bus, and the hours of slow conversation it had taken her to convince her to let Celeste's hands under her bra and then her face between her knees, she gave herself the quick orgasm she so desperately needed.
Not everyone can reciprocate. Maybe she would have fingered Celeste, maybe, but the bus trip was over and Celeste had to get off five minutes after the cheerleader had squirmed for the fourth time and said enough.
Celeste didn't insist that every woman she gave an orgasm had to give her an orgasm, or even explore her body. Sometimes just feeling it is the right place to stop for a first time, opening possibilities that can come later, without pushing too hard all at once. Women - sometimes even newcomers - reciprocated often enough that it wasn't a problem, and her own fingers were powerful when needed.
She needed another quick hit. What to think about? Maybe last summer, when she'd walked in on two friends, and the friend she was with was shocked... that the girl she was crushing on was with another girl. That had turned out all right, though - Celeste started out as an innocent bystander as everyone realized they wanted to do each other, but didn't stay innocent long. Not that she felt guilty, of course...
Memories of riding a tongue while she stroked and licked those beautiful nipples on a friend going down on another friend, who was shuddering as she came... that was a good start.
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"Have some dinner before you go out," her mother called. "I know you want to see your friends, but we should talk before tomorrow. There's more to do for Gladys."
Gladys? Uh oh. What did her mother know?
She went down to the table and took a seat.
"Thank you for dinner," she said. "I ate a lot on the bus, so I wasn't thinking about it."
"I know you, though. You probably ate lots of sweets on the bus."
Sweets, yes, sweets. Celeste grinned, and took a bowl of soup. She took a few spoonfuls, and asked "so what do I need to do for Gladys?"
"Well, two things," her mother said. "First, she asked that you scatter her ashes down by the waterfall."
Celeste looked blank, unsure what to say. Her mother filled the gap.
"She didn't have any children, and she's the last one left, and I know she liked you. Is it okay?"
Celeste nodded, and took more soup to avoid saying anything.
"Good. That's right after the service. The second part is a couple of hours later, at the Dennis Law Office."
