Crossing the Line

Jenny was just putting the final touches on the preparations for the evenings festivities. It was Friday night and Carla was coming over. Every Friday night after work Jenny and Carla got together and ate fatty snack-foods, drank beer (none of that diet shit, mind you), watched one of those weepy-ass chick movies that women love so much, and to hell with their figures.

Jenny and Carla had been best friends and roommates in college. They had shared everything--almost. They even married each others brothers. That was how close they were, and every Friday night since their freshman year had been girls-night. No boys allowed.

Friday night was a night to just relax. And since it was Jenny's turn to play hostess, Hank, Jenny's husband and Carla's brother, knew better than to be around.

Jenny was wearing one of Hank's old concert shirts that he had gotten as a roadie for Metallica one summer. As he puts it, "Before they went pussy on us." Along with the shirt was a pair of white, cotton panties and a pair of Taz houseshoes.

She was putting the big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table when she looked at the clock on the VCR. It read "7:28." "Where the hell is Carla," mumbles Jenny. "She's half an hour late," and walk back into the kitchen.

About that time the buzzer on the intercom goes off and Jenny dashes over to answer it. "Hello?"

"Jenny, it's me," says a very weary sounding Carla. "I've had a fucking bitch of a day."

"Sure, hon. C'mon up."

Jenny goes back into the kitchen to check on the pizza in the oven. It was one of those self-rising jobs that you have to watch like a hawk or it'll look like it caught fire. It looked like it was done, so Jenny took it out and set it on the stove-top to cool.

She hears the front door creak open. "Jenny?"

"I'm in the kitchen, Carla. I'll be right there. Wanna beer?"

She hears Carla flop down onto the sofa and sigh. "Whatcha got?"

Jenny opens the refrigerator and peers in. "I've got, uh, Bud, Bud Lite, and Old Milwaukee." Old Milwaukee? Wear the hell did that dog piss come from? "Whatcha want?"

"Bring me a Bud. I don't want none of that diet shit. Got any bourbon?"

Jenny walks from the kitchen, a beer in each hand. She flops down next to Carla, who has taken off her shoes and jacket from work. "Here ya go," says Jenny as she hands over the brew. "Sorry, no bourbon. Carla? What's wrong? You don't look well at all."

Which was true. Even though Carla was a beautiful woman with dark-brown hair, green eyes, and a fantastic body there was something not quite right. She had dark lines under her eyes and was a trifle pale. Carla shakes her head. "Nothing's 'wrong', per se. This is the first night in a week that I have gotten out of the office before 9-o'clock all week.

"That new supervisor of mine dropped a huge stack of paperwork on my desk at 4:30 that had to be done tonight. I'm gonna end up killing that fat, pimply motherfucker."

"Why? What's wrong," asks Jenny with true concern.

Jenny drains half her beer in one swig. "He's pissed at me for no reason. The other day we were in a meeting and he put his hand on my thigh, right here," indicating a spot near her crotch. "I removed his hand, and what does he do? The bastard puts it right back where it was and starts rubbing!

"After the meeting he pulls me aside tells me that I could be transferred to a better, easier job if I just do one thing for him."

"Let me guess," said Jenny. "He wanted a good fuck."

Carla laughs and lights a cigarette. "Thank God, no. That bastard wanted a blowjob. He's pissed because I wouldn't suck him off. I wouldn't touch his dick on a bet, much less put it in my mouth! His cum would probably taste like those black jelly beans he eats all day."

Jenny laughs. "Sweetheart, you are stressed out. What you need is sex. When was the last time you got any?"

Carla finishes her beer and stares off into space. "It's been four years," she says finally. "the last time I had sex was with Jimmy the night before the accident. I just don't think I will ever find a man as special as Jimmy."

Jmmy had been a construction worker who worked the high steel. One day he got hit by a little old woman driving one of those cars that thinks it's a house: a 1973 Cadillac DeVille.

Jenny looks at her friend and lights a cigarette. "Yea, Jimmy was special. I know. I grew up with him, but you have to move on. It's been four years.

"Listen. Fuck the movie. You just need to relax. Tell ya what, I'll go run you a hot bath and you just sit in it and relax for a while. It'll really help." Without another word, Jenny gets up and walks to the bathroom. Moments later, Carla hears water running into the tub.

She snubs out her smoke and lights another one. She takes a long draw and holds the smoke in. The slight sting caused by the smoke felt good as she exhaled.

"Ready," calls Jenny from the bathroom.

Carla gets up and walks to the bathroom. She walks through the door and pauses. The only light in the room comes from candles placed around the room. Soft music came from a radio on the candle and Jenny poured some chamomile into the steaming water. "Wow," is all Carla could say as she looked around.

Jenny turned off the water and looked at her friend. "Strip."

Carla strips and walks over to the tub unconcerned about jenny watching. They had seen each other naked before. They had been younger, but their bodies hadn't changed that much in ten years with the gym and all.

She slips into the steaming water and lets out an "oooo" as the initial shock hit. She leaned back against the rim of the tub. "Jenny, this feels so damn good. Mmmmm. I wish you could enjoy this with me."

Jenny looked at her. "Who says I can't? It's a fairly big tub and we aren't that big."

Then a thought hits Carla. A thought, no, a desire she had never had before. No man could replace Jimmy. But Jenny was his twin. They had a lot of the same qualities. A smile crossed her face. "Get in, Jenny."

Jenny shrugs and strips. She sits down at the other end of the tub. Carla looks intenty at Jenny's pert breasts, smaller than her own, but nice sized. C-cup? Her nipples were the size of half-dollar coins and stuck out about a quarter inch.

She had seen them before, but now she was entranced by them. She had to touch them. She moved her foot between Jenny's legs and started rubbing Jenny's sex with her toes. Jenny, startled, cries, "What the hell?!?!"

Carla looks at her. "I want you Jenny. Now." She lunged forward and started French kissing Jenny and playing with her breasts. They felt a good as they looked. After a moment of struggling, Jenny lets herself enjoy these new sensations and starts playing with Carla's breasts.

Neither one of them had ever even thoght about another woman much less touched one, but here they were, getting hotter and hotter with every passing moment.

Carla slides her hand down Jenny's belly and down to her sex. She plays gently with her clit and the lips. Jenny lets out a moan. "I want you, too, Carla."

Carla leaned back and spread her legs. She scooted her butt forward until their pussies were kissing and they start to grind them together. This was too much. They had never felt anything that erotic before. Jenny's orgasm ripped through her body as she came. As she came she felt something new: she had ejaculated. She had never done that before.

She leans forward and whispers into Carla's ear, "So. Wanna spend the night?"