Lipstick Girl

Heather was in a room full of women. The music seemed loud enough to shake the pictures on the walls, and Heather wasn't sure how long she could stand it. She liked music, but this was more horrendous noise than music, and she was certain she could feel the vibrations in her teeth.

Butches were all over the place, wide, narrow, tall, and short. Three butches for every femme, and of course the femmes loved it, and Heather told herself she ought to love it too, but she had real competition here, and she was still torn up about Gina. Oh Gina. Where was Gina now? In San Diego, maybe. So Heather had come here to forget Gina (better than being alone, wasn't it?), put on lipstick and a dress and heels and told herself what she needed was to be with someone tonight. Not just anyone, but someone who could make her feel good about herself again. But this party was so crowded, so awfully noisy, so unlike her, she was beginning to think this was merely another one of her silly mistakes.

She watched the women who were dancing, the jiggling breasts, the sweat on their faces. Some of them looked strung out on dope or liquor. The smell of tobacco smoke was everywhere, a gray cloud of it at the far edge of the room. She finally maneuvered her way to a bathroom. She passed two women in the hall clutching each other in a heavy kiss. Heather ignored them, waited her turn, and soon found herself with the door locked and her face staring back at her from the grimy mirror over the sink. She opened her purse, removed a toothbrush and toothpaste, and brushed her teeth. After she finished, she felt silly about it, but she also felt refreshed. Silly, silly, she thought. Heather, you're a silly girl. Outside the bathroom, she ran into Jan. Old friend Jan. Old lover Jan.

"Guess who's here?" Jan said. "Who?" "Mary Corcoran." "You're kidding me." "I'm not kidding you. She's back there in one of the rooms. She happens to be Bobbi Reilly's cousin. Don't faint with excitement." "I'm already there. Corky? Jan, if you're lying to me, I'll kill you." "Go look." And Heather hurried to look. Mary Corcoran, the tennis star, Corky to the world, was Heather's idea of the sexiest lesbian alive.

Heather found her in one of the smaller rooms, this one as crowded and as smoky as all the others, but this one filled with women who all seemed to be salivating as they milled around a blonde leaning against one of the walls. Heather was thrilled. She watched Corky's every move. Corky was tall, lean, strong, blonde. Like a Viking. Damn it, I'm wetting my pants, Heather thought. Corky seemed bathed in a golden light. Then suddenly their eyes met. As Heather stood staring at her, Corky looking across the small room and their eyes met. Corky stared back. Heather was far enough back so Corky could see all of her, and Heather blushed as she saw Corky's eyes drop down and then up again.

Too much, Heather thought. I'm shaking. Or maybe the house was shaking. She could not take it any more, and she turned and hurried out of the room. One more second in there and she was certain she'd make a fool of herself. She found the largest room, the noisiest room where the women were dancing and the music still blaring loud enough to vibrate the floor-boards. She found a drink, found an empty spot against the wall, and she settled in to cogitate, to digest what had happened in the other room, the way Corky had looked at her. "You ran away," a voice beside her said. Heather turned, looked, and was instantly dumbfounded. Corky stood there, gazing at Heather with fixed blue eyes. Heather blushed. "You're Mary Corcoran." Her face was so tan, her blonde hair almost white. "Dance with me," Corky said. "I'm getting bored just standing around."

In a daze, Heather moved into the crowd of dancing women with Corky. She was aware of the envious eyes of the other femmes. Even the butches were envious. Corky, after all, was a celebrity. Heather felt clumsy as she danced. Corky's eyes were on her and she hated being clumsy. She wondered what type of woman Corky liked. There was certainly enough competition here. Heather felt her breasts shaking as she moved her body. The high heels she wore made her legs look good, but she wished she were a better dancer than she was. Corky's hips were so slim, her body so straight in her man's shirt and jeans.

Then Heather was suddenly happy about the way she looked. Corky had looked at her in the other room, and then Corky had followed her. Now Corky's eyes were locked with hers as they danced facing each other. The music was as loud as ever, but Heather now found the rhythm exciting. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to move freely to the music. When Corky touched her, Heather felt as though an electric shock passed between them. Her hands on Heather's hips, their bodies moving to the pounding rhythm, Corky leaned closer, close enough so Heather could hear what she said.

"I'd like to spend the night with you," Corky said. Heather was stunned. Disbelieving. Corky leaned even closer. "Did you hear me?" "Yes, I heard you." "Well?" Five minutes later, they left the party and drove in Heather's car to Heather's place.

Inside her apartment, Heather was in a daze again, disbelieving Corky's presence. She was so worldly, what could she possibly think of this place? The apartment was so small, so cluttered. But Corky did not seem to mind. She took Heather in her arms and kissed her. "Don't be afraid of me," Corky said.

Heather nodded. "All right, I won't." They pressed their bodies together. Heather closed her eyes when Corky's hands moved to her breasts. Corky continued kissing her, nibbling at her lips, her hands slowly undoing the buttons at the back of Heather's dress. Heather wasn't sure when it happened, but suddenly she found one of her breasts exposed and Corky bending to kiss it. A shudder passed through her body as she felt Corky's mouth on her nipple. Corky tongued the tip of the breast, gently licking it, her hand lifting it.

Heather was so excited, she thought it might destroy her. Was this really Mary Corcoran? How could this lustrous person possibly be here? I'll die if it's a dream, Heather thought. Somehow, she had to maintain her sanity. A glow of health and vitality and beauty seemed to radiate from Corky. She was still kissing Heather's exposed breast, stroking it with her tongue, making Heather sweat with desire. Heather was so turned on now, she had to make a special effort not to say something crazy or something that would break the spell. Corky finally straightened up again, her fingertip toying with Heather's stiff wet nipple. "Do me a favor?" Heather looked at her. "What?" "Put on a bra. Show me what you look like in a bra." Heather stared at her a long moment. She felt her belly quivering. She nodded. She left Corky and she went to the bedroom.

A dream, Heather thought as she looked at herself in the mirror over the dresser. No, of course it was not a dream and she knew it. Corky was back there in the living room waiting for her. Heather quickly removed her dress and stepped into a skirt. She found a sexy black bra in a drawer and hurried to get it over her breasts. She checked her looks in the mirror. The bra was black lace, and she thought it looked pretty. When Heather returned to the living room, Corky looked at her with appreciative eyes. "That's lovely," Corky said. Heather blushed and waited, wishing she were a model, wishing she had more poise.

Corky came to her and kissed her. She stroked Heather's back. Her wet mouth slid over Heather's cheek and temple and earlobe. Heather shivered as she felt Corky's tongue tickling the inside of her ear. Corky's hands slid over her back and waist as her lips found Heather's again. She cupped Heather's breasts through the black lace bra. Her arms tightened more firmly around Heather's body as she pressed her mouth against the side of Heather's neck. Her hands dropped to stroke Heather's hips before sliding around to feel the curves of Heather's ass. She's like iron, Heather thought. Corky was so strong, it made her want to whimper. "I get turned on looking at you," Corky whispered. "Do you mind?"

"No, I like it." Corky stepped back, her eyes on Heather's body again. Heather imagined she could feel the tips of her breasts growing larger. Corky said she wanted to see more of Heather's legs. "You're so beautiful." Heather's excitement was almost too much to bear. She slowly lifted her skirt with both hands. She loved it. No one had ever asked her to do this. She pulled the skirt up, up, until her legs and thighs in pantyhose were revealed to Corky. She did not stop. She lifted the skirt high enough to show her belly. Corky made a sound of approval as she did a turn. "Lovely," Corky said.

Heather faced her again. "I'll take the skirt off." Corky nodded, and Heather quickly unhooked the skirt and stepped out of it. Now she wore only the bra and pantyhose and heels. She knew her bush could be seen through the sheer nylon. Corky said, "I'd like a drink. Do you have anything?" "Yes, of course." Then Corky admitted that what she really wanted was to watch Heather move around. "I'll just watch you while you fix the drinks."

Heather made the drinks, feeling Corky's eyes on her, excited by Corky's eyes. Could she ever feel calm with Corky? Everything in the room seemed to vibrate with a new clarity. She felt renewed, as if all the lovers she'd had meant nothing. After the drinks were made, Corky urged Heather to sit on the sofa. Then Corky went to her knees in front of Heather, and Heather's heart pounded. She knew what was coming, and it made her more excited than ever. She sighed and relaxed against the back of the sofa as Corky started kissing her legs and thighs. Heather felt as though her cunt had melted. She could feel the nylon rubbing against her clitoris, against her swollen labia. She opened her thighs a bit wider and squirmed her buttocks on the sofa cushion. She covered her breasts with her hands, her fingers pinching her nipples. "Oh please, don't tease..."

Corky chuckled. "You're soaked." "I can't take this..." Corky finally pushed Heather's thighs further apart and went down on her through the nylon. Heather groaned, lifted her legs, held them up with her hands, her head bent as she watched that marvelous blonde head between her thighs. She felt Corky's mouth sucking her juices through the nylon. The wetness was everywhere, her own juices, Corky's saliva, Corky's lips working. Heather moaned. She squirmed her hips. Ecstasy came in a gush, and Corky's mouth worked even harder. Heather came and came, and it never seemed to stop.

"You're so sweet," Corky said, her wet face nuzzling between Heather's open thighs, her tongue licking the wet nylon. Corky made her rise, and they walked hand in hand to the bedroom. Gently, she lay Heather down on the bed and she removed her shoes. She slowly peeled the pantyhose off Heather's hips and thighs and legs. She gazed a long time at Heather's cunt, opening Heather's legs to look at everything. Heather wanted Corky to see her core. She opened her legs even wider. Corky laughed and bent to kiss her again. Corky's jeans rubbed against Heather's hips as she slid her hands under Heather's body to hold her ass.

"Now come again," Corky said. "Come again while I do you like this." Later, as Heather lay exhausted on the bed, she suddenly realized that Corky was naked and on her face. Corky's cunt was on Heather's mouth. Heather had no idea when or how. She felt Corky's juices dripping over her lips as Corky slowly swayed her hips back and forth.

Heather loved it. She remembered who it was. She thought about asking Corky for an autograph later. Then she laughed at her own silliness, laughed into Corky's sliding cunt. Happier than she could ever remember, Heather worked her tongue again. Her face was now a mess, her lips and chin covered with Corky's juices, her lipstick washed away. Nice color too, Heather thought. Lipstick girl's lipstick all gone. She held Corky's ass as Corky continued sliding.