Of Our Hell and Heaven

Sophie froze in the middle of typing a response when she read what Marie said. She was shocked. While they had discussed a little about their lives with each other, neither of them had said anything so directly naughty concerning their love lives like that before. Their conversations had always stayed friendly and polite, but what Marie just said indicated their relationship might be going in a new direction. Sophie wasn't sure how to respond. Should she feel offended? She didn't; in fact she felt somewhat...aroused.

I wrote more before she could type something:

Me: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. Please don't be mad.

Sophie: it's OK, I'm not mad.

Me: Oh my God, good.

Sophie hesitated for a moment, not really believing what she was going to ask, but thought, 'what could be the harm in it'?

Sophie: Is what you said really true?

Me: Yes.

Sophie: Because of me?

Me: Yes, because of you.

Sophie: What do you mean?

Me: I hope you won't hate me for saying this, but I have been fantasizing about you for a long while. I've gotten excited just talking to you several times, but never mentioned it. I think I'm falling in love with you.

Sophie felt a shiver run through her body. She couldn't believe she was letting the conversation continue in this direction, but she couldn't help it.

Sophie: I don't hate you. In fact, hearing you say that has made my own pussy wet.

It was the truth; her pussy was wet. Sophie had never thought of cybersex as something she would be into or be aroused by it. She hadn't gone looking for this, but she had to admit, talking with Marie like this over the internet was awakening certain urges in her body faster and stronger than she could have imagined. She was horny. She had been without sex for a long, long time.

Me: Oh, God, Sophie; I wish I could see your wet pussy!

Sophie: What would you do if you saw it?

Sophie wasn't as shocked in her mind as she pretended to be by Marie's proposition, or her own out of character response. It was true that she was aroused thinking about another woman's pussy. It was something germinating in her mind since the afternoon that her friend, Maria de las Mercedes, had confessed her peccadillo with a woman escort over tea.

ooo000ooo

They were a group who had been friends since their teenaged years in the exclusive 'solo señoritas, only young ladies', school days. They had been getting together once a month for almost thirty years since they graduated; most of them married and had children, some of them, not many, in their 'Upper Class' society status got divorced, and a few had becomes widows, but they get together once a month come hell, rain, or fire. No matter what, they relived the old school days and ways for the few first years of those gatherings. They forgot husbands, children, house, maids, and a thousand things of their easy daily lives for a few hours.

The topics of conversation, amid shouts and laughter, were mostly about childbirth, house decoration, new fashion trends, and opera galas or other entertainments in those first years. The years of talking about college for the boys or girls and marital difficulties came later, along with fewer shouts and laughter. Then, as the years went by and the 'empty nest' syndrome appeared, came the low-voiced conversations on the taboo topic; 'sex and the married woman'. Most of them had a lot of grievances against husbands whose shining armor had tarnished with time. Some of them had festering heartache caused by husband's infidelities, and others plain and simple complained about the lack of sex in their lives.

The topic of sex was more and more important in their gatherings, and some of the most adventurous women were openly talking of finding the best way to get some joy outside the marital bed. Not easy when most of them had, one way or other, many eyes watching over them. There were the charities and gatherings of their church, the Catholic Church, in an officially Catholic Country, and foremost, Argentina (as most countries in the world) is a sexist country where an unfaithful woman is the worst of sinners, and if she is of the moneyed society, she becomes an unofficial outcast.

But what if you are seen with another woman? Nothing happens; it's normal for two ladies to be friends, go shopping to the expensive shops, or go to have tea and pastries in the halls of the Sheraton Hotel or other similarly expensive places, and nobody would be the wiser if the ladies maintained their composure in public.

Most in the crowd of old friends at the meeting that day were not only unhappy, they were seriously unsatisfied, sexually unsatisfied. There was no laughter, the English tea and the pastries were tasteless, and the conversation almost nil. They all heard the clink of a spoon against the edge of a glass seeking attention in the middle of some subdued conversation. They all turned towards the source of the sound and saw their friend Maria de las Mercedes, with a huge smile on her face, begging for their attention.

"Girls, Girls, I have something very important to tell you," said a smug Maria de las Mercedes.

There suddenly was dead silence; all of them wanted to know what had happened to their friend to make her so cheerful and smiling. "What is it?" they simultaneously asked.

"I have a lover, Girls."

If the room had dead silence the few minutes before she spoke, you could now hear a pin drop and the faces had a look of incredulity, amazement, and shock. All hell then broke loose; a cacophony of noises seized the place, which now seemed to make it a madhouse instead of a meeting of high society ladies. All of them wanted to know how that had happened and asked one question after another.

"You all know that my husband as an export-import tycoon and he has many contacts with foreign embassy officials, mostly Americans or Europeans, and we entertain them and their wives mostly in business parties." Marie de las Mercedes was stopped short with new questions.

"Girls, Girls, if you don't let me continue the story, I won't be able to give you the juicy details," and silence was the master once again.

"I was telling you about the parties; well, when the men went to have their drinks, cigars, and to discuss business or sports after dinner at the last one, I took the ladies to the garden, then while the maids served them, I went back inside and heard the men talking. I wasn't snooping, mind you, but what I heard made me be sure to stay in the shadows. Their conversation wasn't about business or sports; it was about women, not us wives, but some well-known prostitutes and their proficiency in bed. It must be quite common that they used them because they were comparing notes and exchanging names and phones."

"So you took a lover in revenge?" asked Mary Sorensen, mother of two, and whose husband was known for his philandering.

"Yes, but quite not what you're thinking," said Maria de las Mercedes.

"Alright, alright, what did you do?" several asked in unison.

It was clear to Sophie that her friend Maria de las Mercedes was having fun and enjoying herself with her surprising story, and with good reason as her gaze had the brightness of someone who had been actually royally fucked.

"Well, I heard something very interesting; one of the husbands, I don't remember which one, so don't ask, talked about one model's agency that has some of its models, not all, living a double life; they work in the fashion shows modeling clothes, and work as high-class prostitutes or 'escorts' as he put it, for a second source of money."

The oohs and aahs from the mouths of most of the women, their cups of tea and trays of pastries now forgotten, were full of incredulous amazement; every one of them wanted to know, most of all wanted to know about Maria de las Mercedes' affair; how, when, where, and most of all, with whom. Do they know him? Is he in our social circle? Are you in love with him? Is he married or single? And a question, an unspoken terrifying question, hung in the air; is he one of our husbands?

Maria de las Mercedes could feel the tension increasing in the air and put an end to their collective anxiety and uncertainty.

"Don't worry, Girls; you know your husbands are safe from my charms. My lover is a woman."

The fall of the walls of Jericho to the sound of the Angels' trumpets caused less commotion than her friend's words. Lesbianism was something that was practiced by other women, not them. Woman to woman love and sex was sick, dirty, and a heinous sin; it goes against the law of God and the teachings of the Holy Mother church; most of them held their nose as if the odor of sulfur was in the air. Not so Sophie, whose curiosity was in an all-time high. Maria de las Mercedes tried to clear the air with definitive formality.

"That will be all, Ladies. I see that you all are profoundly disturbed, suffice it to say all of you, your husbands, and your families, even mine, are safe from my new and magnificent sexual appetite. If you will now excuse me, I'll leave you to your tea, pastries, frustrations, and sexual deprivations," and left the room. Sophie followed suit and called out to her before she left the hotel and got in her car.

"Maria, Maria, wait for me, I want to talk to you."

Maria waited and Sophie caught up with her.

"You know we are good friends, don't you, Maria?"

Maria raised an eyebrow and waited for what Sophie had to say.

"I'm very interested in your experience, and I want to know more about it. Can we get together tomorrow and talk about it, at your house, or mine if you prefer. You know that I live alone in that mausoleum, so nobody will interrupt us; tea time tomorrow?"

"I'll call and let you know, Sophie; I'm furious with that pack of hens right now."

They parted with a kiss on both cheeks.

ooo000ooo

Maria de las Mercedes phoned Sophie in the middle of the next morning to confirm her visit in the afternoon. Sophie was a little nervous; she was very interested in her friend's Sapphic experience, her feelings, if she was repentant, or had religious misgivings. But most of all, she wanted to know how the sex was and how pleasurable it had been.

Maria de las Mercedes arrived at Sophie's home around three o'clock and after greeting each other, got right to the point.

"OK, my dear, do you want to know all the sordid details? Maria was on the defensive.

"No, my love; you know I want the best for you. We been friends for a long time and I try not to judge others; I just want to know how it happened and if it was a pleasurable experience."

Reassured by her friend's words, Maria started to tell of her adventure. "You remember what I said yesterday at our meeting with the other...

cows...?"

"Maria..." Sophie softly interrupted, "That's not worthy of you, they are our friends."

"Yeah right; it didn't seem that they were yesterday. Well, as I was saying yesterday, I heard the men talking and exchanging the names of girls and their phone numbers, and they were awarding performance points as if it were a football game. I was furious and thrilled at the same time, and plans began forming in my mind; you know, hearing those assholes referring about women that way. I despised them, my husband included, and I thought that they deserve the same medicine."

She paused to drink a sip of tea and delicately nibble on a cookie. Sophia was on tenterhooks, but didn't want to rush her friend.

"I was alone watching TV late a few nights ago, when I saw a show with an odd scene in it. Two women walked out of a night bar together, talked at the side of a car for a few moments and then started kissing passionately. It stirred something inside me. I had never had fantasies, or even dreams, of being with another woman, but what I heard from the men talking as they were, snapped a switch in my head. I even mentioned it to my therapist and she didn't even raise an eyebrow"

"And..." Sophie was leaning forward in her chair, the tea forgotten.

"But I started to wonder how I go about it? I mean, my physical appearance isn't the issue. I'm in good shape for a forty-three year old woman. I keep myself pretty fit, and though my breasts sag a little and there's the hint of a spread in my backside, I'm still shapely. I know that I'm still attractive because men and women alike have told me so. Then it hit me. I didn't want to hurt a friend, risk an emotional involvement and then have a fall out or something but I wanted to feel a woman's body, feel what it's like to make love to another female. The only choice was distasteful at first, then like the evolution of my emotions, totally reasonable: the models."

"So since I had enough information about whom to call and where to go, I made contact. That's a strange world; this is a modeling agency that has booked not less than one hundred, one hundred twenty women, mostly young girls who are in fashion shows and a few well-known starlets from TV shows, who are also very expensive prostitutes for men..."

"How expensive?" asked a very curious and excited Sophia

"Five thousand dollars a night"

"What, how much?" "Five, what?"

"Yes, you heard right; five grand a night. But let me follow with the sequence of my story. As I told you, we all have gone to fashion shows where these girls or women parade, so I went and asked to speak in private with the person the men talk to when they want company, other than that of their wives, of course..."

"You're crazy, you know," interrupted an amused Sophie.

"Nope, you're wrong, I was horny, not crazy, but not anymore," was the satisfied answer.

"OK, please tell me how it went?"

"Well, the lady in charge of that part of the... transaction was uncomfortable. I had to assure her that I really was a customer and not some police officer. She later confessed that they had some lady clients who also look for women. It wasn't easy but I went on. She told me most of the girls preferred men as clients, not for any moral reasons, only because men ask for young women and will pay any price. When I asked to know how much the figure was, that was when she told me up to five thousand dollars for a night. I whistled softly and asked what she had for women."

"I'm astounded you had the courage and could do that," an excited Sophia told her.

"Well, thank you, old friend. She told me she had a few very experienced middle-aged women, and by middle-aged, she meant twenty eight to thirty five, who had tired of old men and their whims and antics, and preferred going out with women with whom they could even go to dinner with no one being the wiser. Another point was that they were less expensive than the younger ones."

"How much did she cost you," asked an eager Sophie?

"Two thousand dollars for the night, the hotel room, and other expenses such as dinner or room service being my treat. But I tell you that it was worth every penny," Maria de las Mercedes said, stretching out like a satisfied cat.

Maria de las Mercedes took a sip of cold tea before proceeding with her story.

"It was then that she asked me what my tastes were, and when I asked what she meant, she told me..."

"Well, Honey, first of all, is there any type of girl you're looking for? Specific physical things, race, size, hair color...?" "That was her answer."

"I let out a little laugh. Just like taking a look at a menu and picking an entrée. I told her that I didn't know; I mean I'm assuming that they're all pretty young and attractive..."

"Yes, they all are that, she joined me in the little laugh, and I was much more comfortable now."

"I just want someone who has umm... experience, who won't feel uncomfortable with me, you know..."

"Don't worry. I've got just the girl. She's twenty-nine, pretty good, and I'm sure she'll like you. Her name is Susana."

"Well fine, now umm... how much this lady...?"

"How much is she going to cost? There's a flat fee of three hundred dollars for her to come out, and that's for an hour and a half with her. That's just for being with her. Anything other than companionship you have to negotiate with her, but it's usually two thousand. You'll discuss your activities and time with her, and if you require more, then you work it out with her." Maria de las Mercedes said the booking manager told her.

Sophia was squirming as if she were seated on hot coals. She felt her body was blushing and reacting as if she were on fire.

Maria followed with her story, "A shiver went through me, and I was already fascinated by this mystery model/call girl. There would be more than an hour and half; I wasn't a guy, who wanted to get laid. I wanted an experience; one I could smile about until my dying day.

I paid the flat fee in cash. The woman assured me that Susana would meet me at the place I selected, and that she would call me at home within an hour to an hour and a half to know what I wanted, and so I could tell her where I wanted to meet. I wondered what Susana, probably used to meeting men in hotels, would think of us being there. I selected the Caesar Park Buenos Aires; you know it's one of the most exclusive and elegant in the city, and when she called, I told her to meet me in the white marble lobby, for drinks and dinner the next day, and we'd decide what to do from there."

"What excuse did you give your husband?" Sophia asked.

"Oh, I didn't need an excuse, not that week. He was in Brazil on a business trip and the boys would be with their girlfriends. Please don't interrupt me again or I'll lose the thread of the story."

"OK, I won't," said a suitably chastised Sophia.

"So after a luxurious bath the next day, I put a fingertip-sized dab of my favorite musk behind each ear, one in between my breasts, and for the first time, one on my thighs and in my panties. A light dusting of blush on my cheeks, only a tiny bit of eyeliner, and I was done. No lipstick. I don't wear it often anymore, and didn't really need it. My lips are thin and naturally pursed in the middle. I turned both ways while looking in the mirror. Not bad for an over-forty broad--

--Feeling the hammering of my jugular veins, I went to the garage got the car and set off for my adventure. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 7:05 PM. She was scheduled to arrive at the hotel around 7:30. I saw a taxi stop before the stairs as the hotel valet took my car keys from my hands. A woman got out of the car, and well, she was beautiful alright.

--Hi, are you... Maria? Her eyes quickly swept me, then met my eyes and stayed there. The woman at the agency hadn't asked my age, and I was wondering just how surprised Susana was.

--Yes, I smiled, and you are Susana.

--That's me. Please call me 'Suzy'. Her smile was bright, charming in fact, and her demeanor caught me off guard. She didn't fit the bored, professional image my mind had feared in any way.

--She was dressed in a white body hugging tube dress that outlined a nearly perfect body. Her breasts were big, but looked natural, and she was a knockout. She was petite, a couple of inches shorter than me, and reminded me of Meg Ryan in her early years, with the same innocent look. Her hair was light brown with blond highlights flowing over her shoulders in straight, silky strands, out of which peeked a pair of discreet gold earrings. She looked sexy without looking cheap, and I was relieved about that. Her green eyes were calm and focused as she accepted my invitation to go inside.

--We went to the 'Cheers' bar. With dim lighting, wooden furniture, and black-leather armchairs, it's the perfect place for an unobserved rendezvous. We ordered our drinks and she crossed her legs once comfortably seated.

--Well, this is a little different, she said, softly smiling.

--"Not as different as it is for me," I said, causing her to laugh a little.