Good Things Come....

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Two girlfriends, a sexy boudoir, lust in the candlelight.
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Jem stared wistfully out of the café window. God, life was boring. She had weighed all her options and was just about to sink her second latte when the door swung open. A frigid wind blasted hell out of the customers and then Krystal St John was beside her, spreading her special brand of heat over everything and everyone.

Jem couldn't help but smile. Without looking into the room behind her, she imagined the faces of both men and women seated, hands around their mugs of chai lattes and cappuccinos. Faces of sly excitement and wry grins of recognition, coupled with lashings of damped down desire. No point in getting hot and bothered. It was a known fact that Krystal St John was no ordinary woman and it took an extraordinary person to meet her on her level. She was a woman adored by men and women alike but only women met her special requirements. Her preference lay in women whose body shape emulated that of a boy, rather than of feminine curves. The best of both worlds she often laughed.

Jem was the perfect foil for Krystal. She was tall, slender, small hipped, and her feminine attributes lay more in her waifish look of cropped and gelled dark brown hair and pouting lips than in the size of her bra cup and shoes. Krystal was as opposite to Jem as latex is to velvet. She was voluptuously curved with high round buttocks, large firm breasts and Playboy Bunny striking looks of long blonde hair and sleepy green eyes. The eyes lied.

There was nothing sleepy about Krystal. Her days as a Playboy Bunny were a few years behind her now but she had taken her hard earned cash and turned it into an empire of exotic underwear, fetish toys and mail order. She had one boutique, as voluptuous as her body. Like the outfits she liked to adorn herself with, the shop was lush and sumptuous. Red velvets, black satins, chandeliers with diamond like crystals that flickered prisms of light across the walls and ceilings. The perfect backdrop for the lingerie that hung like pieces of object d'art on the walls, the crystal embedded whips, the handcuffs wrapped in mink, the ostrich feathered French ticklers. Books were sold there too -- the sensual short stories of Anais Nin, the sexual factual life complacently regurgitated by Catherine Millet, bondage books, books on erotic photography.

Several small booths hugged the back wall of the boutique, their thick black velvet curtains inviting the curious eye to peek inside. The interior was a disappointment, unless the customer had plans to make use of the empty booths. Each one had only a peephole in one wall and a plush velvet-covered seat on the opposite wall. A person could simply sit on that seat, or stroke herself, for the pleasure of both the sitter and the observer in the neighbouring booth through whose peephole such pleasures could be viewed. Each booth also had a mirror and the mirrors in each had seen many wonderful visions. Once, a woman had stuffed stolen love balls inside herself, not realizing the shop assistant was on the other side watching. She got a fright when she walked outside the booth and was asked to give them back!

Krystal's plump long fingered hand lay over Jem's smaller one. "Darling," she sighed, "I hate to say this, but you look like you are going through a crisis."

"A crisis of boredom, Krys. I can't stand it. I can't think of a thing to do that will put a smile on my face. I know I am, God forbid, being boring by saying this, but I just can't get motivated to do anything."

"Your problem, my sweet, is that life has been too easy for you. Too much has been handed to you on a platter. While I'm not going to change that for you, I can offer you a slight change in your routine. I wonder if you are free this afternoon. I want to put on a small fashion show in a month's time, just in the boutique, and I think you would be perfect for some of the pieces I want to show off. I am also going to ask Angel because your body shapes are best suited for different things. What do you say? Are you interested?"

She smiled lazily. She knew very well that, despite Jem's androgynous appearance, little bits of lace tied up with leather and whips were some of the few things that could inspire her. Jem smiled back. And just for the viewing of the café customers, she leaned over and kissed Krystal on the lips. "Ah,' breathed Krystal, 'Sealed with a kiss, clichéd though that might be."

Jem took a last swig of her nearly cold latte, made a small moue of distaste, wrapped her scarf and coat around her, collected her bags from under her chair. She slipped her arm through Krystal's and together the two women swept out of the café, leaving behind them a swirl of perfume and a general frisson of discontent.

As Krystal and Jem picked their way along the pavement, Jem reflected on how good she always felt in Krystal's presence. She supposed that was because Krys seemed to get such a charge out of life and when Jem was with her, she seemed to feel that charge, like electricity, buzzing through her body. She was a bit disappointed that Angel was going to be involved in the show, but mainly because she wanted and enjoyed Krys's sole attention. Jealousy she guessed. She'd never admit that to Krys though. That would be a sure way to up-end their friendship. Inwardly she sighed. Friendship -- if only it could be something more than that. But Krystal had been burned at some point by someone unnamed and unknown to her current circle, and it seemed she would never get involved with anyone again. Jem was grateful though that Krys so obviously liked and enjoyed her company. They laughed a lot, told lots of silly jokes, had the same taste in films, food and fast cars (Krystal, her flame red Porsche; Jem, a sleek black Merc convertible given to her recently by her father). They often laughed about that -- the three 'f's. Sometimes, Jem felt like throwing in a fourth 'f' but was often discouraged by the thought that Krystal might think that too personal. She was a funny creature, difficult to make out at times. She could talk about sex and love and relationships all night, but only as long as none of it touched her personally.

Jem marveled at how Krystal walked, straight backed, in four inch heels, never faltering. A path seemed to open up through the crowds of people tacking back and forth along the pavements, filtering in and out of shops. Even when someone stopped in the middle of the path, they always moved just as Krystal came upon them. It was extraordinary but, Jem thought, Krystal is extraordinary. Those heels of hers never seemed to touch the ground. As if aware of Jem's thoughts, Krystal squeezed her hand. Jem looked at her face and saw a secret smile there. She was really beautiful, despite the fact that she was no longer a young woman. She wore maturity so well, her body ripe and warm looking, striding along as though she owned the world. Jem felt like a little girl beside her and not just because of the age difference. Krystal was everything she wasn't and once had wanted to be. Curvy, beautiful, blonde, desired and the apogee of all people's fantasies. She didn't want that so much anymore. She wanted Krystal instead. She knew Krystal's predilection was for girls with lean straight bodies and she was finally grateful for her inherited shape. If only she could get Krystal to go one step beyond just talking, eating and driving like a maniac in her company. She pulled a rueful face. Get over it, she thought. There are plenty more fish in the sea as her mother always said to her. Or mermaids.

The two women reached the boutique. Its sign heralded 'Krystal St John' in a simple but striking gold curlicue that was an exact copy of Krys's signature. Actually, it was her formal signature, the one she used on legal documents. Normally, she just signed with a rather voluptuous 'K', being too lazy to write long hand. She pushed open the door and they entered Pandora's box. Even in the middle of the day, albeit a winter's day, the interior was suitably dim. Not too dim that one couldn't delight in the beautiful lingerie, but enough so that the crystals in the whips and the chandeliers refracted and momentarily held the imagination of the customer.

Tamara was holding fort with a male customer who was obviously intrigued by a butt plug, although that might have been just because Tamara was holding it in her long supple fingers, her pouty red lips discussing in great depth what pleasures one could derive from such an article. Krystal blew her a kiss. Tamara returned same while not stopping the flow of words from her amazing mouth. Jem had always believed that she had had cosmetic surgery but Krys had assured her it was all natural. Krystal took up Jem's hand again and led her to the back of the boutique. She pulled open the heavy curtain of one of the booths. "My plan is to have you in one booth, Angel in the other. You will both have a number of outfits and accessories and you will change into them, modeling them, while the customer can watch through the peephole. I want to put on a proper peepshow. Naturally, only a select number of people are being invited to this soiree. I will provide champagne and canapés and the show, of which you two will be the desserts, so to speak. What do you think?"

"Wow, it's a great idea. But only two people will get to see us at a time. How will that work?"

"I will give them each a number with their invitation. That number allows them an allotted amount of time to view. One of the numbers will also be a prize number."

"What's the prize?"

Krystal's look turned naughty. "One of you girls, of course, darling. For dinner only though -- don't want the guests thinking this is usual fare." Jem felt disappointment flush through her body. How could Krystal do that? Assume she could treat her in that way, as though she was another item of luxury clothing. Her feelings radiated outwards and her body curled in on itself. Krystal, watching closely, saw the body's reaction. She reached out to Jem, put her arms around her and laughingly said "I'm teasing, sweetheart. Actually Angel is the prize. She's already agreed to it." Jem still felt uncertain, her body unbending.

Krystal took her chin in her hand. "Look at me, darling. That's right. I'm teasing, you know I am. I wouldn't do that to you, sweetheart."

Jem's relief was explosive and with that so was her emotion. "Krystal, if you only knew how I felt." She didn't, couldn't, say anymore. Krystal would think she was referring to being used in that fashion, as a prize. She felt like crying. She pulled a slight face and said, "Ok, that's all fine with me. I'll do it, of course. Let me know when you want to rehearse." She turned to leave. Krystal stopped her, putting her arm around her waist. "Sweetheart, don't leave me like that. Please. I am sorry if I hurt you, even if just momentarily." She took a deep breath. "Jem, I would never do that to you. I promise. You mean so much more to me than just a model and someone I can use because I am paying them."

Jem turned to look at her. Krystal's eyes were fathomless. Jem's gaze fastened on her mouth. Luscious lips, no lipstick, just a clear wet liquid to plump them up further. She felt her heart begin to race and her skin prickle with anticipation. Krystal continued to look at her. Then, when Jem felt she could stand still no longer, Krystal took her hand and led her back into the booth. She dropped the curtain back into place, hiding them from the rest of the boutique.

********************

The booth was warm, and dark. A red light illuminated the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the black walls and the thick carpet beneath the women's feet. Krystal slipped off her high heels, gently rubbed her feet, and sank down onto the chair. Jem looked at the pale feet before her. She dropped to her knees in front of Krys and taking both feet in her hands she drew them up onto her thighs. She stroked them both, then she took one in her hand and began to massage it, stroking the sole, stretching the toes, rubbing the ankle.

She heard Krys sigh and looked up. Her friend's eyes were half closed but the half light found its way under the lids and the shine showed she was watching.

Jem felt her lips twitch slightly. She couldn't help herself. She felt inexplicably happy, a sort of pure emotion that she hadn't felt for a long time. In fact probably not since the beginning of their friendship when she thought there was a possibility that this moment now would happen then. She continued to look at Krys's face, particularly her mouth, wanting to see if the full lips would betray her calm, peaceful exterior. The beautiful face remained expressionless, only the eye shine giving any indication that Krys was alive to what was happening.

Although, Jem thought, what was happening? She was horny as anything, wanted desperately to slide her hands up Krys's long legs, feel her way over the flesh which she knew would be firm and smooth and more than anything, warm. Oh! To feel her warmth against her body. The years spent wanting that feeling.... And against her own desire to stay in control, she let out a deep sigh that came from her very centre. She put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes and tightened her vaginal muscles. This is ridiculous, she thought, I'm so desperate for Krys I'm close to making a fool of myself. I can't. Get up, she ordered herself. She gently lifted Krys's feet off her thighs and placed them on the carpet. Krys opened her eyes then. She watched Jem rise to her feet and seem to shake herself all over.

"Darling', she breathed, 'Are you alright?"

"Yep," Jem said brusquely. "I've gotta go, Krys. I just remembered that I promised Mother I'd visit her and Dad tonight and I have to get home and pick up stuff I said I'd take over."

"Ok, sweetheart, but I thought you said you were bored and you had no plans." Krys watched her friend. What had happened she wondered. Some little upset by the look of it and she felt sure she knew what. She stood up and stepped closer to Jem. Without the heels Krystal was a little shorter and this felt unusual and somehow comforting. Despite her height, Jem looked so sweet and lost and sad. Without thinking, Krys put her arms around her and drew her body into hers. She felt Jem resist slightly, her body tighten and then as quickly, in a fluid motion, Jem's arms were around her body and her face was buried in her neck.

"Krys, what am I going to do?" she whispered. "I love you, I want you, I'm going demented. The only reason I'm bored with my life is because you aren't in it. Or at least only sporadically. I just want to be with you." This last came out as a child's plea and seemed to shake Jem out of the mental space she was currently occupying. She pushed herself away from Krys, reached down for her bag and coat, dumped unceremoniously on the floor when they first came into the booth, and turned to go. Krys put her hand on Jem's arm.

"Don't go, Jem. Come back here -- to me."

Jem told her later it was those last two words that made her turn back. They were so personal, and seemed to come from the heart, that she couldn't have refused her even if she had felt it was the worst thing in the world for her to do. As it turned out, of course, it wasn't.

*************************

Krys stood over Jem, her breath gusting out of her at irregular intervals. She had swapped her lilac chiffon suit for a red latex under corset, latex suspenders, black rubber stockings and 6 inch heeled black pumps. Her breasts were full and ripe over the top of the corset, her nipples hard, and Jem could see the fullness of Krys's pussy lips. She'd spent some little time stroking their juicy plumpness and she was being rewarded by the moisture gathering in the folds around her clit. She leant forward and this time instead of her fingers, she poked her tongue out and gave the lips a lick, gentle and soft, so that Krys could feel her breath on her flesh rather than the wetness of her tongue. Krys shuddered, and a tiny moan escaped her lips. She pulled her hips back slightly. Jem put both hands on the curves of Krys's full bottom and moved her body towards her face again. She snaked her tongue out again and licked Krys's clit.

She felt a shudder run through the exquisite body in front of her and then two hands were on her shoulders and a warm sweet smelling pussy was rubbing itself on her mouth. She sucked the clit into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue, nibbling at it. She swept her tongue around the inside of Krys's vagina, pushing it in and pulling it out. She slipped her index finger inside and then her middle finger, opening the vagina up, drinking in Krys's fragrance. She thrust the two fingers in and out of the warm hole, sucking the clit, feeling Krys's body loosen up, her legs begin to move more and more apart, she could feel her lover's legs begin to shake as she began to move up and down on Jem's fingers. Her breath was coming faster now, Jem looked up and saw the tightly closed eyes as Krys concentrated on the fingers and tongue fucking her. Her own pussy was getting wet, she wanted to put her hand down there, to feel the moistness but didn't want to take her free hand off Krys's buttocks. She needed to hold the very mobile body stable as much as possible. Then, above her, she heard Krys's husky voice call out her name, "Oh, Jem, I'm coming, God, I'm coming, noooooo......", those words all lovers long to hear, and a river flooded out of her and over Jem's fingers and face. She kept her tongue and fingers working until Krys collapsed over her, no longer able to stand up on her stiletto heels.

Jem slowly stood up, holding Krystal against her, waiting for the older woman's shaking to stop. She kissed the long neck, where the vein throbbed, imagining the heart beating hard beneath the full breast; she kissed the round soft shoulder that gently heaved; she kissed the now closed eyelids, feeling the thick lashes against her lips.

Eventually Krystal shook herself and, slightly stumbling on her heels, she stepped back from her lover. "Oh, my, Jem. What fun we have ahead of us," and she laughed, a low throaty noise that came from deep inside her.

© KittenKinky (Lulu C.) 2007

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