Barbara is tall, about 5’ 7”, slender and light-boned, so that her 127 pounds are not skinny. She wears her deep brown hair short and curly, and dresses for business in tailored pantsuits, with just a touch of color in her accessories. Although she appears to be in her early thirties, she will celebrate her forty-second birthday this coming November.
Her body is soft and curvy. Her waist is small, accenting the firm roundness of her hips, the small mound of her belly. She has been known to freeze uncooperative subordinates with her grey-green eyes.
She normally separates her business and private life very strictly, but then she discovered –
Michele. At 26, Michele had worked her way “up the corporate ladder” to a minor management position, entirely on her own ability. Barbara discovered her record, and promoted her to Assistant to the CEO.
She is an untiring worker, a top business analyst. She produces the most thorough reports of anyone Barbara has worked with.
Michele is of average height, but with outstanding looks. Her long blonde straight hair frames her thin pixie face, a contrast to her large deep blue eyes. She dresses less severely than Barbara, going in for earth-colored skirts with pastel blouses. She loves sexy shoes, and wears them well on her small, well-formed feet.
She has large, well-proportioned breasts, which carry well on her larger-boned frame. Though she is self-conscious about it, they jiggle delightfully when she walks. Her legs are firm and solid, but not at all heavy, and men at the office enjoy a peek at her nylon-clad “stems” as she climbs the stairs. Her hips and ass blossom forth from her waist in an eye-pleasing way, and she has an unconscious wiggle, accented by her high heels, that has drawn whistles in the parking lot.
Her quick, bright smile is matched by an equally quick frown, and her young face already shows signs of “worry lines.” She is subject to stomach cramps and, somehow, this awakens a protective urge in Barbara, who finds herself unaccountably attracted to the younger woman.
For her own part, Michele thinks the world of Barbara. She wonders at how Barbara always seems to know the right thing to say, the right moves to make in business, and secretly wishes that she were the older sister that she never had.
Two months ago, Barbara invited Michele to a restaurant for dinner after work. The two women had a few drinks, and began to lose the edge of their employer-employee relationship, began to become friends. They have been out to dinner together several times since.
After their last dinner and a few drinks, Barbara suggested they go to her apartment, where the drinks would be as good, and they could be more comfortable.
Michele agreed, and a short cab ride later, they arrived, and were greeted by the doorman.
“Hullo, Ma’am, Fine ev’nin.” he said, as he pressed the elevator button.
“Hello, Matt.”
The two women entered the elevator, and shortly were in Barbara’s large, but not ostentatious, apartment. Michele looked around at the comfortable, modern furniture, and said, “I love your place.”
“Thank you. Give me your jacket. Like to look around?”
“Yes.”
Michele was relieved of her suit jacket, revealing a sheer pink blouse that only slightly veiled her well-filled bra.
“Well, go ahead,” Barbara invited her as she put away Michele’s jacket and her own. “Make yourself at home. What will you drink?”
“Um, seven and seven.”
Barbara crossed the room to a small bar, tuned the stereo to soft music, and began making drinks while Michele looked around. The older woman brought up two glasses as the blonde peeked through the open bedroom door.
“Here y’are. Cheers.”
“Um. Good. Oh, what a big, beautiful bed. Your apartment is wonderful, Barbara.”
“Thanks. I like it. Come sit on the couch with me and relax. You seem nervous. Can’t you forget I’m the boss? We’re friends.”
“Sure, Barbara.” Michele was not willing to tell Barbara that her nearness was the real reason for her nervousness.
“Tell me some more about yourself, Michele. Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“No. My parents died in a car crash when I was 12, and my aunt and uncle raised me. They had two boys younger than I.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“Actually, no. They treated me like their own. There was never any “me against them,” or anything. They even saved my parents’ modest holdings and sent me to business college. You know, though, I always wanted to have a sister. How about you, Barbara? Do you have a sister?”
“I have three brothers, one older. I always thought a sister would be fun, too. Someone to talk girl-talk to.
“We were a strict religious family, and there wasn’t much talk about the things I wanted to know - mainly about boys, then. My brothers weren’t much help, they wanted to ‘protect’ me.”
The younger woman drained her glass.
“Another?”
“Uh, yes, thanks.”
The brunette got up and walked to the bar.
“Barbara?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s be sisters.”
“What a wonderful idea! We could ‘adopt’ each other.”
“And we could share secrets, and all the things we wanted to talk about as kids.”
“We should celebrate. Say, I’ll open some champagne!”
They giggled over pulling the cork, Barbara holding the bottle between her legs, and Michele stroking the neck of the bottle.
“What a big one you have, and what an odd color!” Michele laughed. Secretly, she was fighting an urge to touch Barbara, finding the brunette unaccountably attractive. “What’s going on with me?” she thought.
Eventually, the bottle was opened and the bubbly was poured.
They clinked glasses, smiled at each other, and toasted their new “sisterhood”.
“But no favors at work,” Michele said after a moment. “I wanna make it on my own.” The drinks had loosened her tongue a bit.
“Why, of course not. Not even for a real sister. You should know me better.”
They drank in silence for a while.
To herself Michele thought, “I was never attracted to another woman before. Should I tell her?”
“I wish I were as beautiful as you,” the blonde whispered, as the brunette refilled the glasses.
“What? Silly, you’re a very beautiful woman. The men at the office think so, too. I’ve watched them look at you. Erik likes to watch you getting things from the bottom drawer of the file cabinet.”
“He watches your bottom, too,” Michele giggled.
“He’s good looking, isn’t he?”
“Umm. When he walks by and gives me that smile I kinda melt. He’s got great buns, doesn’t he?” Michele was loosening up, the champagne and the sudden close friendship making her feel very comfortable.
“Oh, yes. I almost forget what I’m doing sometimes, watching his tight little cheeks.”
They sipped some more. A warm, cozy feeling was creeping up Michele’s insides. Her secret attraction to Barbara, and the talk about Erik, to whom she was also attracted, was taking a toll.
“You ever wonder what he’d be like? I mean, er, in bed,” she blurted.
“Yes, but not enough to do anything about it… yet.” They laughed.
They sipped a while in silence.
“Do you have a man in your life now, Michele?”
She has had several men, but has found them generally too rash and insensitive, and hadn’t formed any lasting attachments. Besides, though she would like a warm, nurturing relationship and fulfilling sex, she would rather not give up her career, as she feels she must if she were to marry. She is convinced that living with someone would present the same problems as marriage.
“No, not right now. You?”
“Nobody special. The last guy I went with, I thought he was special. He was one of the few who didn’t mind my being ‘Ms. President’ and who - well, he was exciting, but… no good.”
Barbara is very selective about those she allows to participate in her private “rites”, and is fiercely loyal to her men - until they prove themselves “unworthy” of her, when she drops them, often on their heads. She is willing to try anything once to see if she likes it–and she often does.
“Barbara? Is it wrong for a woman to be, er, ah, attracted to another woman?”
“Wrong? No, of course not.”
“Would that make her a lesbian?”
“No, not unless she preferred women to men all the time.” Barbara replied, “Why?”
“Oh, er, nothing. Excuse me. All this champagne, I need the bathroom.” She got up, went down the hallway and closed the door. The inner warmth was very strong, and after relieving her bladder, the touch of the paper sent a thrill up her belly.
“No,” she thought, “not here.” But the demanding warmth called her, and she wet a fingertip in her mouth and touched her love button.
Meanwhile, Barbara sipped more champagne and wondered about Michele’s question - and wondered at her own attraction to the voluptuous blonde. She got up, walked to the bar, and found some pretzels. She poured them out into a bowl, carried them back to the sofa, and nibbled at them.
Michele’s touchings had only increased the heat, her juices flowing, her now-swollen nether lips hungry for contact. She spread her thighs a little wider, her love bud growing in its pink nest. Her fingers played in the patch of gently curled hair which barely covered her full woman’s lips. She pressed her thumbs together above her sparsely covered mound and pushed downward. Her bud stood out straighter, her delicate inner lips opening. She moved her thumbs up and down, and her hot little nubbin moved up and down in its caressing nest.
Desire filled her, like a hollow in her loins. She rocked her hips forward, sliding to the front edge of the seat. She kicked the silky pantyhose and soft, white cotton panties of her legs and spread her knees yet further. Her thigh muscles tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed. Her flexing fingers milked at her hot delta of flesh, drawing waves of heat from her insides. She inserted a finger, then two, and worked them in and out, trying to satisfy her agonizing need. Then she began to walk the fingers around inside herself. She began to mew softly. Her other hand joined the first, rubbing at the frilly inner lips, teasing the bud which sent such intense chills and warm pulses through her belly.
“She’s been gone a long while,” Barbara mused, finishing her glass. “I wonder if she’s all right.” She chuckled aloud. “She’s had a lot to drink, I hope she didn’t pass out in there.”
Michele’s hands were working a dance on her soft wet flesh, her moans becoming audible. She flung her knees wide, pressing a third finger into play. She pulled at her inner softness, her other hand gripping the top of her pussy, twisting and sliding against her erect button. Shocking heat speared through her. Her ass bounced on the toilet rim.
“I better see if she’s okay.” Barbara got up and walked to the closed bathroom door, and listened a moment. She heard a soft moan from within.
“Michele?”
No answer.
Michele’s mouth was open in a grimace, her head tossing from side to side, her three fingers buried to the second knuckle, her left hand massaging a breast.
Now Barbara really was worried. She hesitated a moment, then opened the door.
“Oh! Excuse… Oh.” Embarrased at having barged in, but fascinated by the scene she was witnessing, Barbara stood a moment in the doorway. Her face flushing crimson, Michele returned to sensibility, and began to cover herself.
“Oh, sweet little sister, please, please, don’t stop. Wouldn’t you like to finish what you started.”
Michele’s hands didn’t want to leave their work, and after a moment resumed their rubbing. Barbara watched entranced, her own fires warming. She softly entered the room, and sat on the edge of the tub next to Michele.
“Oh yes. Oh, is that good? Mmm.” Her hand went to Michele’s face, pushing back a strand of hair.
Michele had both hands back on her mound, one working the puffy lips back and forth, the other once more plunged in, wriggling at the hot flesh of the front wall of her canal.
The older woman leaned forward a bit, until her lips just brushed those of her newly-adopted sister. Her tongue darted out, teasing Michele’s soft, red, also darting tongue.
Barbara found the buttons up the back of Michele’s sheer blouse, and undid them while they kissed, then pulled the blouse gently from the blonde’s shoulders as she broke away. Her hands went to the front clasp of Michele’s sheer bra and undid it quickly. The older woman’s fingers gently drew the straps from the blonde’s shoulders and pulled the bra from the treasures it had held. Michele’s full breasts were capped with pink silver-dollar-sized areolas, surrounding little berries that had puckered up hard with her excitement. Barbara’s hands went to the twin globes and stroked them, rolling the nipples gently between her thumbs and forefingers.
“Look how your nipples pucker. I can’t resist tasting them.” She bent and darted her tongue over them.
Michele’s hips began to buck, her moaning grew louder.
The brunette leaned forward and flicked her tongue over the hard tip of Michele’s nipple, while her right hand joined Michele’s own. At first exploring, then massaging Michele’s erect love bud. She pressed and pulled at the swollen clitoris, intently watching the emotions on Michele’s face.
“Unn!… Ohh!… OOOOH!”
“Come, little sister. Oh, yes, come for me. You look so lovely!”
Michele reached the heights. She tottered a moment, delightfully pausing at the brink of the precipice, then plunged headlong. Lightnings went off in her body, her muscles jerked and spasmed, her round ass bumped on the seat. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open. The tight muscles forced her and Barbara’s fingers half out of her body.
“OOOOOOOOHHH.”