Chapter 9

Maryann Spencer struggled to regain some of her composure with nine sets of eyes on her. She prayed that her Lord would open a bottomless pit in the floor that she could throw herself into. That prayer went unanswered. She wished her 'Star-Trek' like teleportation had made her invisible instead of just incredibly horny.

The beleaguered woman decided the best way to get all the attention off herself was to accept the invitation quickly and silently. She hurried the few steps to the semi circle and sat down in one of the chairs that didn't have a half naked girl in front of it.

"As I was saying the clitoral glans resides under a hood at the apex of the labia"

Doctor Perez was using her laser pointer to highlight the location on the huge projection as she spoke.

"Your clitoris is made up of erectile tissue which becomes engorged and gets larger when you are sexually aroused. We'll discuss erectile tissue in more depth when we study the male genitalia in a couple lf weeks."

Turning back to her audience her eyes were on the oldest member; they did not make eye contact however. Missus Spencer's eyes, in spite of her valiant effort, were on the mirror that was propped between the legs of the girl beside her. She was immediately drawn to it when she'd sat down and now found that she was unable to look away. The fact that the reflection of the vulva showed no trace of pubic hair was startling. Once again recollections of a scene in Terry's bedroom hijacked her thoughts.

She didn't so much turn her head as she just allowed her eyes to focus on a wider angle of view. The golden shoulder length hair of the girl sitting on the floor beside her was unmistakable—it was Becky!

At first she thought it was nausea gripping and twisting her insides. When she realized that it was actually the next level of sensation, an escalation of what she'd been feeling since she walked in the door she closed her eyes out of shame.

"Interwoven in the erectile tissue are nerve endings. It's been estimated that there are as many as eight thousand, which makes the clitoris, sometimes shortened to clit, the most nerve packed structure in the human body. There are as many in the clitoral glans as there are in the male penis, but owing to the size differential that are much more concentrated."

Angelina could see Maryann swaying in her chair and hoped she wasn't going to have to deal with a fainting episode. The doctor's leg muscles tensed, ready to spring forward and break the woman's fall. She risked a glance at the wall clock and realized that their time was pretty well up anyway.

"That's it for today ladies," she concluded. "Next time we will finish the anatomy lesson on female sex organs and cover some sexual stimulation information. I hope the girls who were too shy to participate this time will reconsider for next meeting." She paused and was pleased to see that the older woman's oscillation wasn't getting any worse.

"Please return your mirror to the front table once you're dressed ... if anyone would like to take one home to review the material from today just let me know."

She walked over and put her hand on Maryann's shoulder. Becky's mother looked up at her as though she was expecting absolution.

"Why don't we go over there and talk," the doctor suggested nodding toward a couple of chairs that were some distance from the teenagers who were all nearly dressed.

Missus Spencer stood and felt as though she was coming back into her own as they arrived at the remote seats. Maryann sat down and Angelina pulled the other chair directly in front of and facing hers. Sitting knee to knee Doctor Perez reached across and took both of the frazzled woman's hands in hers and asked,

"Have you given our consultation some thought, did you look at the Perfectae Caritatis for yourself?"

"Yes I did," Maryann confirmed.

"And?"

"I agree that it would be hard to interpret it any other way."

"Good!" the doctor rejoiced squeezing and shaking both of her patient's hands. "Then you understand that self-stimulation is not a sin ... not forbidden, you are free to relieve the sexual tension whenever you need to."

Maryann nodded although her expression was not the one of relief that Angie had hoped for—maybe even expected.

"I still see concern on your face, what's troubling you?"

"There are other temptations that I'm not sure I'm strong enough to resist."

"Is there a man in your life?" Doctor Perez speculated.

"No ... no, nothing like that. It ... it's my neighbor."

The fact that it was her neighbor didn't preclude it being a man, but Angie deduced from her denial that she had a boyfriend that the neighbor she was referring to was female. The doctor asked for clarification,

"And this ... this woman represents a temptation how?"

Maryann was already sorry she'd brought it up.

'Why am I asking my doctor about this ... or ... or am I trying to confess? She's not ordained to hear my confession ... what am I doing?'

"It's nothing really" the remorseful woman said, looking down at the doctor's hands holding hers.

'Maybe she's not a priest or even nun but she certainly knows church doctrine and maybe she can help ... I don't know how.' nevertheless the hand holding was a great comfort.

"Maryann you know you can trust me ... don't you?" the dead silence was only disturbed by three girls talking quietly near the door, everyone else was gone.

Angelina waited patiently for fifteen or twenty seconds. Finally she released one of her patient's hands and lifted the downcast woman's head so she could make eye contact.

"You can trust me," now she made it an affirmative statement. "I want to help you but I can't unless you talk to me ... confide in me."

Maryann looked into the deep soulful eyes and tried to remember when anyone had ever said those words to her before. She couldn't. She was transported back to the consultation in Doctor Perez's office the trust and faith she'd felt in spite of how brief their relationship had been. Inevitably her mind drifted further back, back to the examination room to the embarrassing pelvic exam and then ... Recalling only the second extraordinarily powerful orgasm of her life she shuddered and moaned.

'You need help and this very smart, very Godly woman is holding out her hand ... why don't you take it?'

Angelina had released her chin giving her the freedom to lower her head again. Looking at the doctor's hand holding hers again she felt the tears welling up.

"I can help" it was barely a whisper.

"My neighbor was going to ... that is I think she wanted to ... I was afraid she was going to ... uh, seduce me." The revelation was followed by a deep sob and Maryann gently pulled out of the doctor's grasp so she could rummage in her purse for a tissue. While she searched the doctor probed,

"And you didn't want that to happen?"

"No that's just it I think I did," she sobbed again, not quite as deeply and blotted her tears. She was reliving the scene in Elizabeth's bedroom, how she'd felt, how close she was to letting her neighbor strip her.

"She said she only wanted me to see how beautiful I could be ... what if ... what if she was telling the truth. What if this whole thing is a product of my own dirty perverted mind.' The possibility had her sobbing harder.

Angelina waited hoping her patient would regain her self-control. When the distraught woman raised her head what Angie saw in her liquid blue eyes was a plea for help. They were knee to knee and eye to eye when the doctor spoke again.

"Although there are other interpretations, unlike the other part of the Perfectae Caritatis, some people interpret the last part of that same section, section twelve, to condone sexual comforting by friends." Angie saw the utter shock on her patient's face. "The text goes something like this; chastity is guarded more securely when true brotherly love flourishes in the common life of the community."

The puzzled troubled look on Maryann's face was enough to tell the doctor that this was too much for her in her current state.

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything, just look at the document again and use your own prudence to see if you can accept that interpretation. As I said there are many other schools of thought on that sentence, but the one that I am relating is not without its supporters."

Doctor Perez got to her feet and Maryann rose in turn.

"I hope I haven't made things worse now," Angelina said with a wan smile.

"No ... you've been a ... a great help," the teary eyed woman assured her physician and this time she initiated the double hand holding.

"Well I'm relieved. Go ... think about it but in any case look after yourself." the emphasis and depth of meaning attached to the end of her statement were not lost on Maryann.

"Thank you" she said genuinely and went to join her patient daughter and Michelle at the door of the meeting room.

As they made their way to the car Becky, who'd been watching her mother talking to her evidently supportive doctor and crying had to ask,

"Mom is everything OK?"

"Yeah I'm fine honey," she said with a smile. "Doctor Perez is helping me work through some issues. It's nothing for you to worry about."

Maryann could see in her daughter's eyes that she wasn't entirely reassured.

'She lost her father less than a year ago ... obviously if I had a heath concern it would be traumatic'

"I'm going through some changes ... uh, because of your dad's, uh, passing. There're just some things I need to work out ... I'm not sick."

They'd arrived at the car and Maryann searched her daughter's face for acceptance as she unlatched the doors with the remote. The smile was weak but it was a smile.

Rebecca was about to open the passenger side door when Maryann remembered the pie slice.

"Don't sit on missus Conrad's pie when you get in," she admonished.

Michelle, who had her hand on the back door handle, had an instantaneous vision of the cherry pie plastered all over her girlfriend's tushy, and she shivered.

'Some cherry ChapStick that would be!' She thought in reference to the song and giggled.

Becky looked at her quizzically and then followed her into the back seat, leaving the shot gun position to the slab of pie.

They rode in silence during the twenty minute trip across town. The girls in the back seat were stroking each other's thigh and visualizing what they were gonna do when they got home. They'd both been left in a state by the church group meeting; on that razor edge, the one that had manageable arousal on one side and total loss of control on the other.

Maryann had even more challenge paying proper attention to her driving on the way home, than she'd had on the way there. Not only was her excitement worse but now there was a rent in the curtain around her through which she could see her other self. The tear was created by the doctor's liberal and admittedly self serving interpretation of the Vatican II document. If it really could be taken to condone sex between friends, calling it true brotherly love then her whole world was about to change.

The intense need between her legs prevented her from deep analytical thought. She knew that for the first time she would act on the permission that she had already accepted as fact, the one from the church document that was incontrovertible. She wasn't sure how it came to be, but the car was rolling into her driveway.

"I'm gonna go over to Michelle's for a while," Rebecca announced as they came to a stop.

"OK honey ... make the most of your last days of vacation," her mother agreed; somewhat relieved that she'd have the house all to herself. "Please give this to your mother" she added passing the desert back over the seat to Michelle.

The younger girl was very happy not to encounter her mother in the kitchen when she put the pie slice on the table. With Becky right behind her she had a quick look in the living room on the way by. No sign of her; 'probably in bed already reading' she concluded. 'I'll say goodnight when Becky leaves' she closed her bedroom door behind them and they fell on each other like ravenous beasts.

The teenager was half right. Her mother was in her bed, but soaking in the delirium of her third orgasm was in no condition to read. Beside her on the bed was the assortment of toys that had filled her need for the time being. Despite their attempts at stealth, she heard two sets of footsteps in the hall outside her door. With her daughter home, safe and sound the warm relaxed glow carried her toward sleep. Before the curtain had totally descended Elizabeth thought about going across the hall to watch—no not just watch—but the thought turned into a dream.

In the house next door Maryann struggled with her clothes. Her hands were shaking and the zipper on the back of her dress refused to cooperate. In frustration she hoisted the shapeless sack over her head and in uncharacteristic carelessness flung it across the room. The hooks on her matronly bra were equally annoying. When she finally managed to relieve herself of the breast support her large needy boobs tumbled out. Without a second of hesitation she cupped and squeezed sending a torrent of sensation racing through her that had only one possible ultimate destination. She shuddered to her core—her soul—and collapsed onto her bed.

The rubbery nubs were captured between thumb and forefinger. Pulling, yanking and twisting the streaming, long denied, pleasure current arrived in her womanhood and she jerked and twitched. There was a feeling of release. It was like when Don had done it. It reminded her of when she delivered Rebecca. She'd been so thirsty she could have drunk an ocean but all they would give her was ice chips. It was enough to keep her from dying, to keep her patched throat from welding itself shut, but in the end it was actually torturous she wanted more—she'd always wanted more.

Without conscience or regret she thrust her hand into her panties and clutched the sloppiness between her legs. The lessons from the novice nun had been refreshed less than an hour ago but it was more instinct that curled her fingers through the outer barriers to the hot slippery interior. So many images and feelings swirled in her head that it was like a kaleidoscope. Images of Teresa merged with those of Bonnie, they were replaced by Vicki. Even Doctor Garcia made a brief cameo appearance but he was quickly replaced by Doctor Perez, between her legs, doing things she'd never dreamed of. It was almost as if the memory of that explosion triggered the new one. It overtook her so fast there was no preparing for it.

At some level she knew that she was screaming. Some other part of her brain registered the contraction of all of her muscles, of her hips heaving off the bed, but the intensity of the pleasure bomb that exploded in her abdomen and spread like the shockwave of a nuclear blast eclipsed everything else. The kaleidoscope was obliterated by the brightest light imaginable. It was the light she'd heard about so many times the one that surrounded Christ—and then there was blackness.

She didn't know how long the blackness lasted, only that when light began to filter through that she felt a warmth and peace that she had never experienced before. Like someone slowly turning on switches, one by one her senses began to return; distant and faint at first but gradually gaining strength.

For reasons she'd never full understand hearing was the first sense her brain was able to focus on, perhaps because her eyes were still closed. The only sound was her own breathing. More rapid than normal but not gasping; there was a little squeak that accompanied each inhale.

The next sense was tactile she became aware of the slippery, buttery feel on the fingers of her right hand. She moved her digits to further explore the spongy softness but the rush that coursed through her caused by the plethora of nerves in her vulva told her that her first trip into the light wasn't going to be enough.

Her fingers traced around her swollen lips and she reveled in the feel of their texture. Suddenly she was overcome with the need to engage a third sense—sight. She wanted to see herself; to look at her womanhood like she hadn't dare to since those secret rendezvous with the novice.

She slid off the bed and, with her back propped against it and her legs spread wide. There, in the mirrored door of the closet was the reflection of the dark, almost brown thick crinkly petals of her sex. When her fingers rotated and rolled the fleshy protrusions the flooded dark pink interior peeked through. Her fingers rotated, stroking and rolling the puffy lips and the entrance to her vagina winked like a neon sign with each circuit.

She drew one finger up the center of the occluded crease until she encountered the firm nubbin at the top. There was a sudden spike in the beautiful waves of pleasure that had been washing over her but it was too much so she went back to her rotary stimulation. There was something about watching how her labia deflected and sprung back under the force of her caress that added to the intensity of the pleasure signals that rolled in a steady stream from her vulva through her belly and on up to her head via her breasts.

Unconsciously her left hand began to toy with the one inch peg projecting from her right tit. Thumbing and raking her nail over the cherry gumdrop created a whole other stream of sensations that played in harmony to the feelings she was generating with her rotating right hand.

Her auditory sense had not shut down and she was aware the she was making a repetitive "Ooo-ugh" sound in rhythm with her stroking.

Around and around her fingers went; every tenth or fifteenth circuit her middle finger would slide up in between and flick her clit causing a powerful jolt that made her grunt. It reminded her of climbing stairs. Each time her finger engaged her love button she ascended one more step.

The fourth sense kicked in but she didn't consciously realize it at the time. Unconsciously however the fragrance of her arousal was playing a role in her climbing the ladder.

The motion of her hand was instinctive. It took no thought at all, almost as if her hand had a mind of its own. In a way her brain was multi tasking when it began to overlay the reflection of her jilling fingers with other images; the novice, Terry, spreading her own delicate folds and conducting a vulval tour for her benefit. That image shimmered like a ghost in front of—or on top of, it was hard to say—the real image in the mirror. The fascinatingly hairless vulva wasn't very clear, but then even the current reflection of her own sex was beginning to lose focus.

Maryann would later think that it was incredible, given her level of excitement, that she was somehow simultaneously analyzing the vision. The other vulva, the imaginary one—it wasn't Terry's, it was the girl beside her in the church basement meeting room—it was her daughter's. When that realization hit home her sentient hand drove two fingers deep inside, as deep as they could go. Part of her palm, or the back of her fingers, something impacted her pleasure center at the bottom of the thrust and the psychedelic lights started flashing.

Her wrist and forearm were moving at a speed that she would not have believed that she was capable of. Thrusting in and out of the slippery velvet tunnel they were a blur. The feel of her fingers stroking the walls of her vagina at blazing speed was like a platform for the rapid tapping her clit was receiving. The kaleidoscope of images was vaguely reminiscent of a stained glass window when suddenly the sun or some other incredibly bright light washed out all the color.

For a few seconds her optic nerve, along with every other nerve in her body was in overload. Her limbic system flooded her blood stream with its powerful consciousness altering chemical mixture. The bedroom floor, the bed, the mirror—none of it existed. She was on an astral plane; out of this sinful world.

When she plunged back to earth it was like falling into a hot tub. Incredible warmth and relaxation overwhelmed her with the same intensity as the explosion but with a gentler soothing touch.