“Kansas, I—” Lea started, but Kansas cut her off.
“I know what you’re thinking, Lea,” Kansas said, smiling. “I don’t know if it’s fine with you, but it’s okay with me. Really.” She wiped a drop of water off her forehead. “We’re still best buds, right? We’re not going to be fuck buddies or anything.” She laughed. “That would be weird. Besides, I’m totally straight.”
Lea burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Trust Kansas to say the darndest things in a serious situation such as this one. She shook her head, smiling too. “Of course we’re still best buds. This is crazy, I know, but I’m fine with the whole thing too.” She realized how her words sounded. “Not that I’m going to suggest we become fuck buddies or anything like that,” she added hastily.
It was Kansas who burst into laughter this time. “Silly girl!” she exclaimed. “Well, I guess something good came out of this thing with Paul.” Her voice grew thoughtful. “I didn’t mean to use you or anything, Lea, I swear.” She sighed and rolled off Lea.
“I know, Kansas,” Lea said quickly. She hated it when things got dramatic. “It’s okay, really.”
“Thanks, Lea.” Kansas turned to look at her and smiled. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” Lea answered with a grin.
The two girls looked at each other again, and this time, both of them exploded into laughter.
The Beauty Next Door
Elle McCully was bored out of her wits. It was a Thursday afternoon, and she was supposed to be at her favorite salon for her thrice-a-week beauty sessions. Unfortunately, Rhea her hairdresser bailed out at the last minute—she apparently caught the common cold that had been circulating around town since the last week and could no longer stand to be in the salon for another second. Elle had graciously accepted her apology. She may be a vain housewife, but she knows a sincere apology when she sees one, and Rhea’s without a doubt fit the category to a tee.
She sat on one of the giant leather couches adorning their huge, spacious living room. Her husband, Roy McCully, made money as one of the state’s top computer honchos. Elle counted herself lucky. Not only was Roy good-looking and smart as a whip, he was also sweet, patient, and extremely loyal. Elle figured her own stunning looks had something to do with Roy’s almost-fanatical loyalty. The thought stung her a bit at first, but she eventually learned to deal with it. She loved her husband, no doubt about that. She would do anything in her power to make sure he stays by her side. This was why she kept to her thrice-a-week salon appointments. They were at Roy’s expense, but being the moneymaker that he was, he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he encouraged Elle to go out and pamper herself as much as she wanted.
Elle thought about the missed salon appointment again, and a sigh of impatience escaped her pink glossy lips. She may be gracious and forgiving, but she was no way a saint. Rhea’s sudden cancellation pissed her off more than she would like to believe, but fuming the entire afternoon off wouldn’t cure Rhea from her cold. Elle sighed again and checked her watch. It was still a long way before Roy got home from work. She had no idea what to do with the remaining four hours of the afternoon. She thought of shopping and quickly dismissed the idea. She wasn’t in the mood to shop. What she wanted very much was to lie down and have someone knead her dull, listless muscles back into life.
She thought of hitting their state-of-the-art home gym and running for miles on the treadmill. She had always been a sucker for running. It calmed and soothed her in ways her favorite salon appointments can’t. It was also how she kept her figure trim and slender. She thought some more and once again rejected the idea. No, she didn’t feel like running off the whole afternoon on the treadmill.
What do I do then? Elle wondered. The thought of the entire afternoon stretched out before her made her feel listless.
Just then the phone rang, and Elle was startled out of her thoughts. She frowned, wondering who it could be. She knew it wasn’t Roy. He was scheduled for a meeting with another top computer company, and he wouldn’t break that off even if the world came to an end outside the boardroom. It wasn’t her husband, she was sure of it. She was curious, though, because nobody called at this time of day. Well, whatever.
Elle shrugged and went to pick the phone. “Hello?” she said into the receiver.
“Elle?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.
Elle frowned again. It was not a familiar voice. “Yes, this is Elle,” she replied. “May I know who’s on the line please?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice said apologetically. “Elle, it’s Miranda Larson. You know, your next-door neighbor?”
Realization slowly dawned on Elle. “Oh, hi, Miranda!” she exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I do know you, but we haven’t spoken on the phone. Until now, of course.” She gave a little chuckle.
Miranda Larson—Elle knew her, all right. Not only was she the block’s most well-known woman, she was also next-door neighbors with Elle, who was also one of the block’s most well-known women. It was sometimes whispered among social circles that Elle McCully and Miranda Larson were in tight competition with each other, although neither woman seemed aware of it. Elle was aware of the whispers, though, but she had no idea of her so-called competition with Miranda. It was difficult not to like a woman named Miranda Larson.
For Elle, Miranda was the poster girl for the ideal American housewife. Miranda was tall and slim. She had light blond hair—so light that it was almost yellow, actually—and pale blue eyes that were just as light and clear as pure crystal. Her complexion was smooth and creamy, as she had never encountered a single blemish in her entire life. Her breasts, hips, and butt weren’t really remarkable, but her legs more than made up for them. Miranda had amazing legs. Even both Elle and Roy McCully marveled at them, and Elle once remarked that someone should place Miranda’s picture next to “legs” on the dictionary. Roy had agreed, and Elle couldn’t blame him. She herself would readily drool over Miranda’s lower limbs.
Miranda Larson was the kind of woman the other women usually loved to hate. But there was a simplicity in Miranda that made it hard not to genuinely like her. She was beautiful, sure, but there was an innocence around her that made it a challenge for any woman to develop ill feelings toward her. Elle herself couldn’t find a single thing that she could hate about Miranda. She was near perfect, it was often agreed in the neighborhood. There were some less-than-perfect facts concerning Miranda, like the fact she couldn’t dance to save her life, for instance. But how could anyone hate someone with two left feet? Being born with two left feet is unlucky, but it’s not malicious. And it’s tough to hate without malice.
Elle was too happy to get a call from Miranda. She was bored, sure, but she was also delighted at the thought of maybe getting to spend an afternoon with the woman. They knew each other, but they weren’t on intimate terms. They smiled at each other and made small talk every time they run into each other at the mall or on the street, but they didn’t exactly swap beauty secrets or talked about the latest novel they have recently read. Elle didn’t know why, but she would love to be on intimate terms with Miranda. Miranda seemed to be a nice-enough woman, and Elle definitely wanted to know her better.
So Elle was very pleased with Miranda’s call. She gripped the receiver tighter as Miranda went on talking on the other end.
“I know it’s such late notice and maybe you already have plans,” Miranda started, “but I was wondering if you’d like to come over this afternoon for some red velvet cupcakes. I made a batch, see, and—I don’t know, I guess you could say I’d love to have some company.” She paused suddenly, as if embarrassed at what she had just said.
Elle was touched. “That’s so sweet of you, Miranda,” she said. “Sure, I’d love to come over. In fact, I can come over right now, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s great!” Miranda gushed. “Okay, I’ll get the lemonade ready. Don’t worry, everything will be set by the time you get here.”
“I’ll be
there in five minutes,” Elle told her. “Thanks!” She placed the receiver back.
Elle dashed upstairs to the master’s bedroom for a quick touch-up. She was done in less than five minutes and hurried down the stairs again. Before she left for the house next door, she left a message on Roy’s voice mail and told him she wouldn’t be long. She knew her husband wouldn’t mind if she went out, but she didn’t want him coming home into an empty house.
She made it to the Larsons in less than two minutes and was about to knock on the front door when it swung open. There stood Miranda Larson in the flesh, and about only six inches away from Elle, who was initially surprised. She had never stood this close to Miranda, not even when they stopped for small talk out in public.
Elle discovered she and Miranda were almost of the same height. She saw Miranda’s complexion looked even better up close. She also saw that Miranda wasn’t as flat chested as she initially thought she was. In fact, Miranda had quite-impressive boobs. They strained against her pale-pink spaghetti-strapped top, which also revealed a hint of lace underneath. Elle felt slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t know why, but the sight of Miranda’s chest somehow seemed to . . . well, turn her on.
“Hi, Elle!” Miranda said warmly. She opened the door wider. “Come in, come in! God, I am so glad you could come over. I haven’t really thought what to do if you were busy with something, but anyway, here you are.” She grinned, revealing perfect white teeth beneath healthy, luscious lips.
Elle grinned back and stepped inside the huge house. “I’m glad I could come over too,” she told Miranda, who shut the door behind them. “It was getting to be a drag, being at home all alone.”
“I know what you mean,” Miranda agreed. “That was why I decided to bake some cupcakes. And it’s so hot too!” She glanced at Elle. “I hope you don’t mind me wearing only this tank top and shorts.” She gestured at her clothes.
Elle’s eyes travelled up, down, and all over Miranda’s body. Of course she didn’t mind seeing her next-door neighbor clad in clothing that revealed more than hid her body. The shorts were tiny, indeed, but they greatly emphasized her killer legs. Elle felt a stab of insecurity shoot through her, but beneath the emotion was an even greater feeling of arousal. She discovered she wanted to touch every inch of Miranda Larson. She couldn’t believe it at first. She knew herself well enough to know she was perfectly straight. Hell, she has a husband, for Pete’s sake! But the knowledge did nothing to diminish her sudden desire for Miranda.
The thought scared Elle, but it excited her too.
“No, not at all,” she assured Miranda. “In fact, you look great in them.”
Miranda smiled. “Thanks, Elle,” she said. “You’re the sweetest. Well, why don’t you sit here for a minute?” She gestured to the couch. “I’ll go get the cupcakes. They’re still warm. I’ll get the lemonade too. I hope you’ll like them.” She sauntered over to the kitchen.
Elle settled herself on the couch. A few seconds later, Miranda emerged from the kitchen with a plate full of cupcakes on one hand and a pitcher of lemonade on the other. She set them down on the table in front of Elle and went back to the kitchen. When she emerged this time, she was carrying two glasses with her, which she set down on the table as well.
“These look lovely, Miranda,” Elle told her beautiful next-door neighbor.
Miranda sat beside Elle and flashed her dazzling grin again. “Gee, thanks! You’re the sweetest, Elle.” She shifted her body to pour them some lemonade, and as she did, her bare legs brushed against Elle’s equally bare legs.
Elle did nothing and only sat very still. The feel of Miranda’s legs brushing against her own only intensified her already growing desire for the beautiful woman, and she didn’t know what to do about it. So she kept as still as possible and hoped Miranda wouldn’t notice how she truly felt inside. The fact that the space between her legs was beginning to feel moist and sticky did nothing to improve matters for Elle. No, she couldn’t let her lust be made known to Miranda. She would just die. They were next-door neighbors, after all, and she didn’t think she could face Miranda ever again if Miranda did find out Elle was having the hots for her.
But Miranda did notice Elle’s behavior. She placed the pitcher back down on the table and turned to face Elle. “Elle?” she asked, her voice full of concern. “Are you all right?”
Elle did her best to act nonchalantly. “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied as calmly as possible. “Why, what’s wrong?”
Miranda continued to stare at her. “Nothing,” she replied. “Well, I felt you get all stiff, and I wondered if you were, you know, having an attack or something.”
“No, nothing like that at all,” Elle assured her. And before she was aware of it, she had reached out her hand and placed it on Miranda’s smooth cheek. “I was just thinking of how beautiful you are.” As soon as the words were out, she was filled with utter horror. But it was out, and it was way too late to back out now.
This is it, Elle thought. My secret’s out. Now Miranda knows, and now she’ll laugh at me for being a complete idiot. Not to mention she’ll think I’m queer too. With the way I’ve been acting, I can’t blame the poor gal.
Elle readied herself for the backlash she expected from Miranda, but she didn’t remove her hand from Miranda’s cheek. She expected her hand to be swatted or pushed away, anything to indicate disgust and horror from Miranda.
But to Elle’s surprise, Miranda only smiled. Then the real surprise for Elle began: Miranda leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. Then she leaned back and looked at Elle, awaiting her reaction.
Elle was stunned. Not in a million years did she expect Miranda to do what she did. Her hand was still on Miranda’s cheek. Did she just kiss me? she wondered. She wasn’t surprised to find she was also slightly dazed.
Miranda must have sensed Elle’s shock, because she gave a little chuckle. She reached out and placed her hand on top of Elle’s, the one that was still on her cheek. She tilted her head, burying her cheek into Elle’s palm. “Oh, Elle,” she sighed softly, all the while caressing Elle’s hand.
That did it for Elle. The growing ball of lust inside her reached its short limit and exploded, sending off fragments of deep, strong lust to the other parts of her body. With a groan, Elle wrenched her hand free from Miranda’s cheek. With both hands, she grabbed Miranda’s face and kissed her furiously on the lips.
Elle discovered Miranda’s lips tasted like strawberries. Bad news for Miranda: Elle loved strawberries. And so Elle sucked, pulled, nibbled, and gently bit on Miranda’s strawberry lips. Miranda, though, wasn’t deterred. With an amount of passion that could rival Elle’s, she grabbed Elle’s face with both hands and kissed her just as passionately as well. The two well-groomed women engaged in some furious lip-locking for a few minutes before the two of them broke apart, panting and trying to catch their breath.
“I’m sorry, Miranda,” Elle said. She had thought of Roy and felt guilty of the whole thing.
“Ssshhh,” Miranda answered, and placed a slim finger over Elle’s lips. “Hush. No, we’re not going to talk about our husbands at this moment. I want you, Elle, I really do. I have desired for you the moment I set my eyes on you.” Her finger traveled down to Elle’s chin and lingered there. “I don’t know, I suppose I’m straight because I love Anthony and I’m married to him. But I’ve never desired Anthony the way I desire you now.” The finger went down Elle’s neck, to her throat, clavicle, and finally to the top of her right breast, where it rested for a while. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Elle?”
Elle made as if to interrupt, but Miranda cut her short. “Yes, yes, you are. You’re gorgeous. You’re delicious. And right now, I’d like to find out just how delicious you are.” Her finger went to Elle’s nipple where it began to flick the tiny nub all over. While Miranda was doing this, shivers ran all over Elle’s body. Miranda felt them, and she chuckled again.
“Fuck it, Miranda, let’s get this over with!” Elle
declared.
“That’s the spirit!” Miranda exclaimed with a huge grin.
Elle made a grab for Miranda and kissed her torridly again. Miranda responded with the same ferocity. The two women were so into it, they were practically clawing at each other. Elle slid the straps of Miranda’s tank top down her toned arms. Miranda simply tore Elle’s thin cotton tee into shreds. Both women were wearing nothing but their lacy bras on top. Elle had a red bra on while Miranda had a black bra. They stared at each other for a few seconds before attacking each other again.
Elle bent down and ran her tongue all over the exposed flesh of Miranda’s breasts. Miranda moaned in pleasure and responded by cupping Elle’s lace-clad breasts and squeezing tightly. Elle arched her back and moaned too, but the sound was muffled by the flesh of Miranda’s considerably sized tits. Frustration got the best of Elle, and she slid the straps of Miranda’s bra down her arms. As soon as one breast broke free, Elle clamped her mouth over the revealed nipple and began to suck on it.
Miranda too unhooked Elle’s bra and threw it impatiently on the floor. With nothing standing between her palms and Elle’s breasts, she was now free to do what she wanted. Miranda did just that. She fondled, squeezed, and rubbed Elle’s boobs, which were hanging slightly due to Elle being in a kneeling position. While Elle used her mouth to stir Miranda’s nipples to life, Miranda used her flat palms to awaken Elle’s nipples. For both women, the sensations ripping through them were amazing. They moaned almost at the same time, and their moaning sounds set their arousal off again. Breasts became swollen and nipples became as hard as pebbles in no time. Elle and Miranda both noticed this. Without passing a word between them, they wrapped their arms and legs around each other and pressed their breasts against each other.
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