Chapter 2

"Do you really mean to seduce her, 'bunch?" he'd whispered after she'd confessed her letch. His pet name for her was short for "Honeybunch."

"I want to make her dizzy with pleasure," she'd breathed back and nipped his nipple lightly with her teeth. "I crave her, darling. I'm sorry - are you jealous?"

She'd felt his shrug. "I should be, but I'm not. If you were talking about a man, I'd be in a rage, but since it's a woman, it - it doesn't threaten me."

"Or turn you on?"

"Is she sexy and sassy like you?"

"Not at all - but she is a bombshell. You might like her."

He'd snorted. "I like you a little. Why wander?"

"You call this 'a little'? Let me show you what I like best..."

Watching Kimberly warming down after dance class, Connie again was astonished at the younger woman's physique. Seen from the back, Kim was a perfect hourglass shape - good, firm shoulders, a smooth back tapering to a tiny waist that Connie suspected wasn't more than 22 inches around, then the sudden flare in ripe hips and firm, rounded buttocks. Yet Kim's thighs didn't quite meet at the top.

Connie forced herself to stop staring - but not immediately. Kim was turning slightly, swinging her arms loosely. The rich masses of reddish blonde hair, now channeled into a ponytail by the pretty blue band, swung vivaciously in counterpoint to the sweep of her arms and the rise of her magnificent breasts.

Why didn't I get tits like that? Connie asked herself.

Confined by the white tights and blue spandex leotard - and, probably, by a workout bra - Kim's breasts were the shape of half-grapefruits... but larger. Her ribcage was beautifully defined, even through the layers of cloth, and beneath it was the sudden flatness of her hard young stomach. There was the barest hint of a rounding in her lower abdomen, and then the sudden prominence of her pubis. In profile, her legs were breath-taking and seemed almost over-long for her height.

Some flaw, thought Connie, with a touch of envy.

Kim turned abruptly and saw Connie watching her. Their gazes met and Connie wondered if even the workout bra she wore would conceal its true purpose - to keep any stiffening of her nipples from showing.

Connie smiled, and Kim returned it. Connie walked over to her and said, "I like watching you warm down. You have a marvelous, natural grace about you."

"Thank you!" Her smile was quite total, involving her entire face. "It's always nice to be complimented by the teacher."

"I like to get to know the people in my class," Connie said glibly. "This should be social, as well as healthy. After class some night, let's you and I go out somewhere for some coffee or wine."

"OK! When?"

"Anytime," Connie said.

"How about now? I'll get my stuff, if you're ready."

Connie felt a tingle in her breasts and belly when Kim looked directly into her eyes. "Sounds fine. Let me get my stuff and check out the doors and lights." Most of the other students were already waving their good-byes. "Only be a minute."

As she secured the studio room - it was part of a larger health club complex, itself a part of a megamall - Connie again reviewed what she knew about Kim. Twenty-five, no wedding ring, attended the dance class to keep herself limber and in shape, and she worked as a public relations assistant for a large wine and spirits importer in New York. She'd moved into the area from the Midwest a few months before. Her emergency notification phone number was in Wisconsin, and the name to be notified was her mother's.

Kim was waiting just outside the door of the club. A trenchcoat, held loosely closed by the belt, couldn't conceal her shapely, blue-Spandex-covered calves. Male passers-by inevitably looked her over. So did a few women.

"Got any place in particular in mind?" Connie asked. She carried her battered old gym bag in her left hand as they strolled past the Allstate office and Waldenbooks toward the mall exit.

"To tell the truth, I'm low on cash so I wondered if you'd mind if we just -"

Connie was more than willing to offer a loan.

" - went back to my place. I have some lovely wines."

"Sounds fine to me," Connie managed to say calmly. "Wait for me by the front entrance to the lot, and I'll follow you."

"Little green Stanza," Kim said as they stepped out into the chill January night.

Connie hurried to the far end of the lot. As an employee, she had to park in the distant, reserved area. She gunned the engine to speed the heater and hurried to her rendezvous. A green Stanza sat near the Burger King. Connie flashed her headlights, and Kim beeped in response, then pulled onto Route 17. Connie followed.

It was a quick and seamless drive to the low-rise apartment complex. Connie pulled into a space beside Kim's car.

"This way," Kim said, taking her neat little gym bag from the back seat and hoisting a larger, canvas tote bag from the floor. Connie heard glass clinking as Kim said, "More samples of my wares."

I'm looking forward to sampling your wares, Connie thought, but said nothing except offering to help.

"I'm used to lugging this stuff, but thanks." They walked briskly through a quickening wind to the nearest entrance, then up two flights of carpeted stairs to Kim's door.

The apartment was compact, little more than a studio with an alcove for the dining area, a walk-through to the kitchen and a door opening onto the room containing the -

- bed, upon which Connie focused immediately. She noted how neat everything was - except for a pile of dishes and pots in the sink and a mass of miscellaneous magazines and newspapers stacked on the low marble coffee table in front of a Tuxedo-style leather couch.

"I hate housework," Kim said, by way of apology.

"It's not my idea of a good time, either," Connie offered. "Having two of us helps - "

"Your husband? You mean he helps?"

"We share everything we can," Connie said, and had trouble believing she'd uttered what - to her - was a blatant double entendre.

"I wish my husband was like that," Kim muttered.

"I thought you weren't married," Connie protested as they shucked their coats.

"In fact, I'm not," Kim said, turning to face her ballet teacher. "In fact." She took Connie's coat and hung it in the small, foyer closet. "Legally, I'm still married. We started our 'trial separation' about 10 months ago."

Connie couldn't resist openly ogling Kim's form in the tight workout attire. "Much to the delight of men, everywhere."

"Please! Don't get me started!" Kim said, throwing up her hands in theatrical display. "Coffee?"

"Got anything stronger?"

Kim smiled. "No problem-o." She opened a cabinet, revealing bottles and glasses. She bent and wrote something on a notepad, then turned to explain: "I rented the place furnished, including the booze. When they come back from their round-the-world cruise, I want to have everything exactly as they left it - right down to the last drop of liquor. So I keep track. Your choice?"

Connie was thinking that her choice would have been Kim, but simply said, "How about one of your wines?"

Kim beamed. "I'm always looking for someone to experiment on. Any preferences? I have some lovely ports."

Connie couldn't believe Kim had said that, but pretended not to catch the double-entendre - for a moment. "I bet you hear that a lot from the guys."

Kim's response was something more than a giggle, less than a chuckle. Connie thought of it as a tinkling. "You wouldn't believe!"

"Try me."

Kim selected a bottle and uncorked it as she replied: "A lot of the buyers in the smaller stores in the city are... well, they aren't educated, formally. A lot of them come from blue-collar backgrounds and haven't really..."

"Evolved?"

"Exactly." Two glasses appeared, and Kim poured two fingers of the port into each. The fragrance was almost intoxicating - rich and heavy. "So there's this kind of required tradition that every guy make some comment or pass, just to prove he's one of the boys."

Connie took the proferred glass. "With the emphasis on 'boys.'"

"You know the type, I bet. C'mon." She motioned for Connie to precede her into the living room. The furnishings looked like they'd been coordinated by the store decorator at Levitz. The leather sofabed and loveseat, the occasional tables, the lamps, the drapes - even the paintings - could have been purchased as a set on the showroom floor. Everything worked, but it lacked personality.

Connie sat on the loveseat, and Kim flumped down on the sofa at a right angle to Connie. She held up the glass and swirled the port gracefully in the glass, examining the rivulets that settled back to the bottom. "Hmmmm, good legs."

"You should talk."

Both laughed and sipped. "Where was I?" Kim asked.

"'Boys.'"

"Oh, right - Well, once word got around that I was separated, and happy to be, I couldn't go into an office without someone hitting on me. Some less subtly than others. I had a guy today - I still can't believe it." She drank more of her port.

"Don't leave me in suspense," Connie pleaded.

"Guy's about 50 years old, got a paunch that looks like a basketball sitting on his belt and enough nose hair to sweep the storeroom."

Connie laughed loud and hard, and knew that her appreciation was partly the exaggerating effect of the mouthful of port. Since meeting Jerry, she seldom drank - he was a recovering alcoholic - and it didn't take much to get her buzzed.

Her laughter set Kim to chuckling, too. "So we're in the storeroom, and I'm inventorying his stock on a couple of my lines, and I have to kind of bend over some boxes. I'm wearing this denim skirt, about knee-length and a little snug, and I feel it creeping up. And he's gotten very quiet, when usually he's motor-mouth on overdrive. So I look back and see him standing there with his mouth open, staring at my ass through the tight, short skirt and rubbing his - his - "

"Dick."

" - right, his dick, through his pants!"

"What'd you do - smack him?" Connie drank some more port.

"First thing I did was try to get calm. This is a big account. The next thing I did was curse my luck."

"Huh?"

Kim drained her glass, noted the condition of Connie's and refilled it and her own. "He had a dick about the size I always fantasized about. Damn thing seemed to go a third of the way to his knee, and it was so thick I could see it throbbing through his pants leg! But this is a creepy slob and - well, hell, if it had been someone I could respect, I would've... Ah, the hell with it. How do you like the port?"

"It's nice, kind of nutty, but awfully strong."

"Yeah - but so what?" she teased. She sipped again, then turned and curled her legs. She sat in a semi-lotus position facing Connie, then glanced down at her crotch. "Sorry," she muttered, seeing the damp spot between her legs. She stood. "Excuse me; I'll be right back."

Connie watched the ripe, full cheeks of Kim's ass twitch through her dancing uniform as she strode quickly into another room. She was trying to restrain her fantasies. She started pawing through the pile of magazines on the coffee table. Most were wine publications or magazines that might be expected to have columns on the subject - like Cuisine - but there were a few general interest periodicals...

... and a couple of very interesting periodicals.

"Oh-ho!" Connie whispered when she spotted Forum. Beneath it was a catalog of adult toys. Suddenly, her plan was hatched, fully blown.

Connie sat back and opened the catalog in her lap and began looking at the offerings. Inside the front cover was a letter from the merchant addressed "To Our Valued Customer."

Her breathing quickened and became a little shallower. She felt the tension in her cunt as she heard Kim's footsteps approaching.

"Sorry to leave you alone like that. I'm glad you found something to read - Oh!"

Connie looked up to find Kim blushing furiously.

"Oh, relax, honey. Except for a couple of nuns and my crazy Aunt Jane, I've never met a woman who never used at least one of these. And I'm not so sure what the nuns did before they took their vows, either."

Kim plopped down across from Connie again. She was wearing dark blue silk kimono-style ajamas under a loose dressing gown. She was still blushing.

Connie reached over and patted Kim's forearm. "It's OK! Relax!" She went back to studying the goods in the catalog. "I've heard about these," she said, tapping one photograph. "Ever use one?"

"Which?" It was a squeak.

"Joni's Butterfly. I hear they're great."

Kim shook her head. She'd taken her hair down from the ponytail and pulled it over to one side with a barrette.

Connie went and sat next to Kim and continued through the catalog. "Now this looks interesting!" She pointed to a picture of a dildo that could squirt.

"Mmmm."

"Which ones have you tried?"

Kim's blush returned and deepened. She reached into Connie's lap and flipped a few pages farther back, to the vibrators. "Th-this one."

"Interesting..." Connie read the copy. The device vibrated and also stroked and had a small extension for manipulating the clitoris. "Any good?"

"I thought it might feel like the real thing - more like it, anyhow - but it doesn't."

"What are you going to try next?"

Kim drained her glass and refilled it - to the brim. She took a deep breath. "It's a couple of pages farther back."

"Let me see if I can guess," Connie said. Her cunt was sopping wet, and she yearned to have her aching nipples rubbed - and more. She could sense the cautious excitement in the beautiful young woman beside her on the sofa. She flipped the page: Vibrating Ben Wa balls; a G-Spot Vibrator; Flexible Vibrators... No.