Sweet Melissa and Sour Sarah
Copyright© 2010 by Maxicue
Chapter 35
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 35 - Two beautiful high school juniors meet in a Pennsylvania small town. One sustains a continuous smile while the other sustains a frown. The odd friendship blossoms into true love. The beauty and power of these remarkable young women ends up not just ameliorating their lives, but many others whom they encounter over the next three or so years. MM isn't explicit. Neither is rape, though it's integral to the story.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Ma/Ma Mult Consensual Rape Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Group Sex First
Sarah hated the pain. She hated Sorry for giving it to her and for his beautiful smile of encouragement and Melissa's similar smile. She roared as her body worked to expel its cause. She sweated like a pig, most unbecoming of a negligee and swimsuit model, although she hadn't been one since Paris and New York in late summer six months before. She cursed every curse in the book, including in French and in Sorry's African language. Her vagina opened impossibly wide. Why didn't she choose Caesarian? Her obstetrician suggested it, but admitted it wouldn't be absolutely necessary. Why didn't she let the doctor sedate her? Why an old Chinese midwife instead of a doctor? Did she really want to experience this moment in all its miraculous and excruciating glory?
"Yes!" she shouted breathlessly when she felt the child expel from her body at last.
Melissa squealed in delight, "She's beautiful Sarah!"
Somewhere between Sarah's and Sorry's color beneath the reddish amniotic fluids with a tight nap of very short black hair, the plump infant emerged into her new and scary world screaming with healthy vigor. Once clipped of the umbilical, rubbed and settled into cloth, Melissa brought little Ellie Jones to an exhausted but incredibly happy Sarah.
It took awhile to name her once the ultrasound revealed her sex ("I could have told you that," said Zelda). Like Vic with Saralissa, Sarah wanted to bestow her with a name that honored those who had made the birth happen. But there had been so many. Melissa suggested Grace because they both considered that state to be one in which all their friends and family shared. Of course Grace Jones the singer and Bond villainous, though it had been years since she had been in the public eye, made enough of a splash in her peculiar way to threaten future repercussions. Naomi became a favorite to honor Elliot's mother and Sarah liked the name. But Naomi, though flattered, felt it to be too high an honor. "Call her Ellie," she said. "After all, Elliot has done more than anyone to change your life and Melissa's. Perhaps most importantly, he introduced you to the child's father."
Elliot objected, but no one else did, especially Sarah who counted most. "Ellie. I like that. Ellie Jones."
"Welcome to my crazy world, Ellie Jones," Sarah murmured to the wriggling infant. With her big brown eyes meeting Sarah's violet eyes, Ellie seemed to shrug, probably some sort of stretch of little muscles. "Did you see that?" Sarah chuckled.
Melissa giggled. "Yep. She's one of us already."
A sort of civic dispensation allowed Sarah to give birth on the table in which Melissa worked on spines. Because of this an obstetrician and a nurse had to be present. That they had been involved with Emily's and Sophie's pregnancies and deliveries and had been visited by Sarah, the presence of the conventional doctor and nurse seemed more like having a couple more friends attending than a professional requirement. Also a homeopathic doctor whom Melissa befriended and learned from watched Nana, the old midwife and master of Chinese herbal medicine assist the birth. Nana's granddaughter, Leanne worked along side her, translating while learning. Leanne's brother Sam videotaped the occasion. Both of them had become close friends with Melissa and Sarah soon after Melissa began learning from the old woman, intimate friends in fact, with Sam and Melissa sharing a bed on occasion and Sarah and Leanne pleasuring each other. Zelda took photographs of the birth.
"Zel and Mel Health and Happiness Emporium," the sign advertised outside the building in which Sarah gave birth. Actually the two enterprises occupied two neighboring storefronts, sharing a stoop leading to two doors. To the left one encountered the mystical world of tarot, palm reading and a sort of phrenology that had more to do with healing with touch than actually reading the shape of skulls. A receptionist, Laurence, effeminate and pretty, had been chosen because Zelda didn't want to be tempted and didn't want an attitude about the more intimate work she performed in her back room. She needed him because of the back room in order to greet customers and have them wait or get an appointment while she intimately healed clients. The fact that he was charming and funny didn't hurt.
To the right one entered a small store selling medicinal herbs. Leanne and sometimes Sarah shared duties there with Melissa when Melissa wasn't with a client. They also answered phones for her. Leanne essentially managed the store and was the most consistent presence. Sarah massaged as a preamble for Melissa or for the massage itself. Behind the store were three rooms, one for massage, one for chiropractic work and a third for intimate encounters between Melissa and needy clients.
The location, on Bleeker near 8th St. in Greenwich Village couldn't be better. Of course it cost a fortune. Zelda charged more for her services than she had in Paris, especially the more intimate ones. Melissa charged on a sliding scale and managed to be accepted by various medical insurance programs which allowed her fees to push up a bit more.
She didn't charge for the extra intimacy however, at least not officially. Considering it psychological betterment for her clients, both male and female, she had no official status as a psychologist. When Zelda sent a client for Melissa's special happiness cure, she took a consulting fee up front. Zelda's innate ability to read people kept her choices the safest in terms of legal threats. Melissa made it clear to the client she wasn't a prostitute, but hinted that if the client felt in some way improved by her unique curative, a tip relating to the amount of improvement would not be turned down.
After Ellie's birth and fees had been exchanged and the various professionals left, a stream of family and friends entered the room. They had been told to wait to visit, not wanting the room too full. Melissa policed the door, letting groups of twos or threes inside, babies of course not counting in the numbers.
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