Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (71 page)

The polite conversation bored Shelly. She searched the pool, hoping to find Ron. Failing to do so, she mentally undressed each decent looking male swimmer and imagined what it would be like to have sex with them. Unaccountably, she found herself frequently stealing glimpses of the thin strip of cloth that wrapped around Sandra Dollar's all but flat chest.

Suddenly, she realized that conversation stopped and the eyes of her companions were on her. “I'm sorry,” she said. “My mind strayed there for a minute. What did you say?"

Sandra smiled. “I frequently daydream too. I asked if you've ever tried fishing?"

Shelly shook her head. “The thought of impaling worms on a hook turns me off."

“I'll bait the hook for you,” Tim laughed.

“Tim,” Sam interceded, “we appreciate the invitation, but we don't have any fishing equipment."

“Not a problem,” Tim said. “Dudette has enough to furnish half of Dot."

“If Annie likes it half as much as Junior, she'll have a wonderful time,” Sandra added.

Realizing she missed the details of the invitation, Shelly said, “Whatever you say, Sam."

“Then it's settled,” Sandra said, quickly sitting on the edge of the chaise lounge and leaning towards Shelly, offering the stripper almost a full view of her pert little breasts. “We'll have lunch together at the Korner Kafe and spend the afternoon fishing in our pond. Wear your bathing suit, Shelly. You can use some more sun."

Shelly tried, but could not pull the focus of her eyes from the thin woman's chest. “Okay,” she managed to say. You stupid slut, Shelly admonished herself. You know good and well you are not a lesbian. Quit staring at that woman's tits.

Sandra stood and stretched, pulling the cloth of her bikini tight around her labia. She looked deeply into Shelly's gray-green eyes while saying, “Tim, it's after four. We need to head for Double D Acres. That's what we call our farm,” she explained to Shelly.

“Double D for two Dollars?” Shelly asked, her eyes still drawn to the apex of Sandra's legs.

“That's what everyone thinks. Actually, it's for Dude and Dudette, the nicknames we have for each other."

Failing to catch Junior's attention with his voice, Tim waded into the kiddy pool and Shelly stood up. “I think I'll go to the dressing room with you, Sandy. I need to pee."

Sam laughed. “Why don't you just jump in the water and pee like everybody else?"

“Sam!” she said indignantly.

When they entered the dressing room, Sandra whispered, “You want me to help you pee or would you prefer to shower with me?"

“What the hell are you talking about?"

“You ever made it with a woman?"

“Shit, you're crazy, Sandy."

“I thought it'd be repulsive too, at first. Actually I've done it with only one other woman, but it's ... it's ... different—nice."

“No thank you,” Shelly said coldly as she marched towards the row of cubicles. She slid the lock in place and wiggled her one-piece suit to her ankles. After completing her business she blotted with cheap, rough, tissue and moaned at the touch on her engorged clitoris. How can that skinny, flat-chested bitch turn me on like this?

There was a soft wrap on the toilet door. “Are you okay, Shelly?"

Shelly took a deep breath, flushed and stepped out of her bathing suit. Very softly, she replied, “I'll meet you in the shower."

Nude, she carefully locked the shower door and turned to face Sandra.

“Plenty of room in here for two,” Sandra said quietly, her voice nearly drowned out by the water cascading from the showerhead.

“I'm not a lesbian."

“Of course not. Me either."

“I don't know what to do."

“Do whatever you like—nothing more—nothing less."

Shelly stared at the beautiful little mounds so proudly jutting from the honey-haired woman's chest. The deep red tips seemed to be beckoning. Tentatively she touched one, then the other of Sandra's nipples.

Sandra placed her hands on either side of Shelly's face and moved her head towards Shelly's trembling lips. It was a gentle kiss—almost a caress—followed by another and then another.

Breasts ground against breasts as Sandra's hands slipped to Shelly's buttocks. Sandra's lips touched Shelly's right nipple—then the left. Shelly felt the tip of Sandra's tongue probing her navel.

Shelly sighed as she felt Sandra's tongue gently prying apart the lips of her labia. She stepped away and turned her back on the richest lady in Dot. “I'm sorry Sandy. I can't do it."

“It's okay,” Sandra said soothingly. She stood, wrapped her arms around Shelly, pushed her rock-hard nipples into Shelly's back and licked her neck. “I know you like it, but we need never mention this again."

Shelly turned. “Sandy, I don't understand it, but you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen. If I were going to do it with a woman, you'd be my first choice."

Sandra smiled and began to lather her body with a bar of soap. “I consider that a big compliment, coming from a professional artist."

Shelly wiggled on the tight bathing suit and felt Sandra's hand on her buttock while the other hand zipped her up.

I have to get Sam back to his place now. I'm on fire. She rushed from the dressing room and crashed into a stunned customer.

“Hi, there, Shelly,” Ron said when he recovered from the surprise encounter. “I know I'm good, but I didn't expect you to bowl me over,” he joked.

“Is your van air-conditioned?"

“Sure."

“Let's go."

“You look bored,” Sandy said.

“I'm afraid I'll never be a fisherman,” Shelly agreed.

“Your daughter is not bored,” Sam laughed.

Shelly glanced towards the end of the little fishing pier, built out over the pond beside the Dollars’ house. Annie and Junior were sitting on the end of the pier, feet dangling over the edge and eyes concentrated on corks floating a few feet away. Suddenly Annie squealed, jerked back on her line and shouted, “Got another one."

Junior sprang to his feet and encouraged Annie as she reeled in a small crappie.

Sandra laughed. “Why don't we let the guys look after our kids. The ice chest of beer will keep them happy. I want to show you my spring."

Tim laughed. “Dudette's favorite spot on all the earth."

“It's not far,” Sandra said, pointing. “It's just on the other side of that hill."

“I'm not up to walking that far,” Shelly hedged.

“You can take the golf cart all the way,” Tim encouraged. “It's the sweetest water you've ever tasted."

When the women were seated in the golf cart, Shelly said, “Look, Sandy, about yesterday afternoon."

“Hold that thought, Shelly. Did you hump my husband when he took you to the house to show you the bathroom?"

Shelly looked at Sandra in surprise. “No, of course not."

“Didn't think so. You weren't gone long enough. Besides, your boobs are too big for Tim's tastes—not for mine, though."

“Sandy, I told you. I'm not a lesbian."

“No, but once you've tried it—and you will—you'll go both ways, like me. You were so turned on when you left the shower you could hardly walk. I'll bet you fucked Sam's brains out last night."

Shelly chuckled. “We had a little argument yesterday before joining you at the Korner Kafe. Sam was still pouting last night. I damn near had to rape him, but he seemed very happy when he finally dropped off to sleep."

“I'll bet he was. Shelly, are you really an exotic dancer?"

“I'm a stripper at the Crazy Cat Club and I'm not ashamed of it."

“Nor should you be. How much do you make, turning men on?"

“I work on straight salary—a thousand a night."

Sandra whistled. “How long do you think you'll continue in this business?"

“I haven't thought about it. Why do you ask?"

“I was just wondering how long one can survive in that business. In the shower, yesterday, I noticed your breasts are beginning to sag a little. Does that bother your customers?"

“I haven't received any complaints,” she said defensively. She glanced down. “Do you really think they sag?"

Sandra stuck out her right hand and weighed Shelly's left breast. “Not in your bathing suit,” she said. “I suppose if you use some sort of support in your act, the customers will never notice."

“In my final act each evening I wind up wearing nothing but a filter tipped cigarette stuck in my vagina."

Sandra howled. “That I would love to see."

“The cover charge for the midnight show is a hundred bucks."

“Do women ever go to a strip joint—excuse me—to the Crazy Cat Club?"

“With all the lights shining in my eyes I can't see the customers very well, but I've never noticed a woman."

“I'm afraid my grand finale is getting a little stale. If my breasts are beginning to reach for the floor, I'd better find a hotter finish if I want to keep my job."

“Why not close the act doing something with another woman?"

“Men are my customers."

“Honey, you're one sexy looking mamma, but if you think men aren't turned on by lesbian scenes, you don't know men very well."

“I suppose you are proposing to go on stage with me?” Shelly asked sarcastically.

Sandra laughed and tossed her hair. “No way I'm getting on a stage and showing my tiny tits. I couldn't stand the insults."

“Your breasts are small, Sandy, but they're ... uh..."

“Tantalizing?"

Shelly chuckled as Sandra drove into the grove of trees on top of the hill. “Yeah, that's a good word."

“I don't care to be your dancing partner, Shelly, but I do have a business proposition for you."

“I'm not a whore, Sandy."

“Don't jump to conclusions.” Sandy set the brake, hopped out, opened the rear hatch and removed a cotton blanket and two plastic tumblers. “The spring is at the bottom of that little bank."

“I see it,” Shelly said. “It's a beautiful tiny pond with water bubbling into it at one end and easing out the other. And the area around it is covered in dark green moss.” She led the way down the bank and watched as Sandra spread the blanket.

They each filled a tumbler with the cold, crystal clear water and squatted beside the spring as they silently sipped the delicious fluid. Sandra refilled her tumbler, stretched out on the blanket and waited for Shelly to join her.

Sandra ran a fingertip over Shelly's arm. “I don't know what Sam may have told you about me, Shelly. I, of course, help Tim run Dollar enterprises. That's a full-time job in itself, but my true love is writing fiction. Four of my novels are in print and a fifth will be published this fall."

Shelly knew she was inviting trouble if she didn't move her arm out of Sandra's reach. “I'm impressed,” she said, balancing the tumbler on the moss and rolling over on her stomach.

“None of my efforts have made any bestseller lists, but they have all sold well. I have developed quite a following. I spend far too much time answering fan mail."

“Sandy, I'm a stripper, not a secretary."

Sandra laughed and placed her hand on the small of Shelly's back. “It is precisely because you are a stripper that you interest me. For a couple of years now, I have been thinking of a story featuring a stripper."

“No shit?"

“No shit. I haven't written it because I know nothing about being a stripper. I think one of the things that makes my work popular is that each of my stories have the ring of truth."

“So you want me to tell you what it's like to be a stripper?"

“It's a little more involved than that. I want your complete life story. I want to know about your childhood, your first sexual experience, all of your sexual experiences, how you became a stripper, who you screwed to get your first job—things like that. I want minute physical details as well as every nuance of emotion you experienced."

“Hell, Sandy. I don't want my life story published. I show off my tits and pussy every night, but I'm not willing to let people walk around on the inside of my soul."

Sandy's hand traveled to Shelly's buttocks. “My book will be fiction. You'll never be mentioned by name."

Shelly felt the long fingers probing the inside of her left thigh. “What's ... what's in it for me?"

Sandy pulled apart Shelly's legs, kneeled between them and began to massage the yielding woman's back. “You make a thousand dollars a night at the Crazy Cat Club. We'll meet at my house ever day next week between one and four. If I tape our sessions, we should finished by the end of the week. I'll pay you a thousand dollars a day—five thousand in all."

“Annie's college fund could use the extra money."

“Then we have a deal?"

“Yeah. I guess so,” Shelly said dreamily. She felt the zipper on the back of her suit sliding down and Sandra's hands on her back. She lifted her shoulders allowing Sandra to pull the one-piece suit to her waist. She raised her hips and felt the suit slide to her thighs and then tug down to her ankles. She was naked.

Sandra moved to one side. “Turn over and give me your breasts."

Shelly obeyed and was surprised to find Sandra also naked. “Please, Sandy, use you finger—not you tongue."

“I'll use whatever I please to give you pleasure. You just lie there and enjoy."

Sandra stretched out on her naked companion, grasped her breasts and slipped a long, slender tongue inside Shelly's moaning lips. As Sandra traced a path down Shelly's neck and lapped at her nipple, Shelly said, “I feel like a teenager about to lose her cherry."

“You are about to lose your cherry, you big breasted temptress, but I promise it will be ten thousand percent better than the first time."

Shelly helped Annie out of the kiddy seat and propped the child on her hip.

“Mommy, can we go fishing?"

“I don't think so, honey. I don't know what Mrs. Dollar has planned for you and Junior to do."

“Can I feed the ducks?” she asked as Shelly winced. Climbing the porch steps set off the growing ache in her thighs.

“Honey, I just don't know, but whatever you and Junior do, I'm sure you'll have a good time."

Shelly pushed the bell and listened to the musical response of the chimes.

“That's pretty, mommy."