A Taste of Strawberry Ch. 02

Part 2: A Taste of Mango

I woke up feeling contented but a little disoriented. There was a warm body snuggling against my back and an arm draped over my waist, but I gave a start when I realized it wasn't Matt's. Something about the feel and scent fast-forwarded my mind through the events of last night when, too tired to face the drive home, I fell asleep in Nan's arms.

It was hard to believe it had all really happened and I struggled to make sense of it. I should have felt ashamed and guilty about making love with another woman – and about walking out in the hall naked - but surprisingly all I could do was sigh and lace my fingers through hers. Nan was like no one I'd ever known, and waking up in her embrace felt soright!My romantic musings were cut short by the sound of a soft snore! A very genteel and ladylike snore, to be sure, but I had to suppress a giggle as reality rudely pushed idealism off the edge of the bed to fall clumsily on the floor. Smiling, I lifted our entwined hands to my breast and drifted back to sleep.

The next time I awoke, it was to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. The bed beside me was empty, but when I rolled over I caught a lingering whiff of Nan's perfume. I was tempted to just go back to sleep, but the smell of breakfast and the need to pee got me going. My clothes were still in the living room, so I just pushed my hair out of my eyes and wended my way into the bathroom as I was. I didn't even think to close the door – it was as if I were alone in my own apartment – so I was able to see Nan walk past and look into the bedroom, wearing an apron and nothing else. Apparently clothes were optional this morning and she looked so cute with her bare bottom framed by a ruffled pink apron. Well, guess I wouldn't have chanced cooking bacon in the nude, either!

"Alyssa?"

"Over here."

"Oh, sorry. Could I interest you in some breakfast? It's almost done."

"Sounds great. Be right out, Nan."

Washing up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and smoothed my hair back into a semblance of order before heading toward the kitchen.

"Hope you like your eggs scrambled 'cause I seem to have to have lost the knack for anything else here lately," Nan said with a smile as she handed me a cup of steaming coffee and gave me a soft kiss.

"Mmmm, Sounds great to me!" We giggled and played footsie under the table as we ate. Afterward I helped her wash the dishes, feeling another twinge of guilt as I remembered the stack of dirty dishes cluttering my own sink. I gave a contented sigh when we had gotten the kitchen neat again and settled onto the living room couch with another cup of coffee.

"Got any plans for the day, Alyssa?"

"Oh, I really should go clean up my apartment, I guess. Seeing yours makes me acutely embarrassed about how bad I've let mine get."

"Oh, come on. It can't be all that bad!" She pushed on my shoulder playfully, then leaned over to look at me closely. "Alyssa? What is it?"

Before I could decide how much to tell her, she was on her feet pulling me up so quickly I almost spilled my coffee. "What . . .?"

"Much as I hate to say it, you gotta get some clothes on if we're going go clean your apartment."

"Nan, no! I wasn't trying to get you to help me – I can't let you do that!"

"I'm bigger than you, and around here might makes right," she said as she dragged me over to my neatly folded clothes. She must have done that while I was asleep – I certainly didn't remember doing it last night.

I didn't feel like wearing the same pair of panties again so, since we were only going to my place, I just stuck them in my purse. I started to put on my bra, then smiled and put it in my purse, too. The feeling of my nipples moving under the thin top was as exciting as it had been last night – this could get to be addictive! I heard her moving around the living room as I brushed my hair and applied some lipstick.

She was zipping up a nylon carrying bag when I went in, noticing that she was wearing a short skirt, though not as short as last night's, mid-heels and hose. "That's not exactly a house-cleaning outfit, Nan."

"Well, my French Maid costume is at the cleaners right now. Besides, what's wrong with it? I'm dressed the same way as you!"

"Since this is all I have with me, I don't have much choice! I'll change when we get there."

"Me, too," she said with a smile and a wink.

I shook my head and went down to my car, undecided whether to be relieved or disappointed that we didn't pass anyone along the way to see me 'going bouncey-bounce' as Nan called it. The sky was starting to cloud over.

"At least you picked the right day for it," she remarked. "Doesn't look like lying around the pool would be a viable option. Hey, whereabouts do you live?"

"Not far," I replied, giving her the location of my apartment.

"Do you know that Indian food store in the little mall across from the park? Would you mind swinging by there on the way? There's something I want to pick up – won't take but a minute."

"No problem." I was enjoying the feel of the cool breeze coming in the window and lifting my skirt. It swirled around my legs and reminded me that I was pantyless in addition to being braless. "Listen, Nan, I have to apologize for my apartment. It's really an unholy mess, and . . ." Her hand on my knee stopped me and I glanced over.

"And you're ashamed and embarrassed for anyone to see it, because you're usually a better housekeeper. Doctor Nancy diagnoses an acute case of depression, which will be a little less bad when we get finished . . . 'Lyssa! Red light!"

I had been staring at her and not paying attention to my driving. The tires squealed a little as I braked at the last minute. "Sorry. How on earth did you know that?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"I recognized the symptoms – let's just say I've been there myself. That look on your face earlier made it as easy as seeing red spots on your face and diagnosing measles. That'll be ten dollars – you can pay the receptionist on your way out."

The light changed and I headed for the store. "I've seen this place before, but never been in," I commented as I parked.

"All kinds of neat spices, Basmati rice, frozen Samosas – come on in and take a look."

I glanced down at my nipples, fairly visible under the tank top. Nan smiled and winked. "I think you'll like it," she said ambiguously.

An Indian woman in a sari was leaving the store as we walked down the sidewalk, and smiled as she held the door open for us. I felt my cheeks getting warm as I thanked her and stepped inside.

"Bouncey-bounce," Nan whispered in my ear as we entered the store. It smelled like an Indian restaurant but even more intense and the shelves were loaded with colorful boxes, bags and cans, most of the labels in whatever language they speak in India – Hindi? Nan disappeared while I checked out the produce aisle and came back carrying a small bag. "Ready?"

As we were leaving, a clerk came over to ask if we were finding everything we were looking for, then began chatting about some things we might like to try. It was funny, because his eyes kept dropping to my bust, then snapping back up to my face. I was beginning to enjoy the attention and turned slightly to point to something on a shelf and gave him a profile view. Another customer asked him something, so we said goodbye.

"Well, it certainly looks like the girls enjoyed the trip!" she laughed after we got in the car, poking one of my hard nipples with a fingertip.

"Absolutely," I confirmed, giving my breasts a quick squeeze. "Now I'mreallygonna have trouble concentrating on my driving."

My light-hearted mood evaporated as soon as I opened my apartment door.

"Well," Nan said as she surveyed the living room and headed for the kitchen, "nothing here we can't handle. Mainly clutter – grab a couple of garbage bags, then I'll introduce you to my sure-fire method of beating depression while cleaning. The first step is mental attitude: take off your clothes."

"Huh?"

"Take off your clothes," she repeated. "Everything's more fun when you're naked, even cleaning!"

Laughing, she grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bedroom. After stripping and hanging our clothes neatly in the closet, she stepped back into her pumps. "I prefer to wear heels when I'm cleaning 'cause it makes me feel naughty, but that's optional. Next, always try to have something processing in the background while you work." She lifted the overflowing laundry basket off the floor of the closet and started sorting clothes on the bed. "Why don't you measure out the detergent and start the washer filling? We'll do the permanent press stuff first."

After a brief pause to watch Nan's breasts sway gently as she bent over the bed, I stepped into a pair of my own low-heeled pumps and started the washer. She handed me the clothes basket, patted my fanny and disappeared into the living room. Just as I closed the lid, the sound of music in some language I didn't recognize filled the air.

"What's that?"

"It's called 'Ein Bisschen Frieden', German for 'A Little Freedom' – no, wait – that'sFreiheit. Maybe it's 'Peace', I forget. We need some motivation, not to mention energy, and German music's great for that!"

"You speak German?"

"A little, but mainly I just enjoy their music and don't worry too much about trying to translate it. If you don't care for it, just say so and we'll switch to something else."

"It's fine – kinda upbeat but . . . unusual. I like it so far. What next?"

"The rules. You look at this and tell yourself 'This is such a huge mess! I'll never get this all cleaned up!', right?"

"Uh, yeah, that's pretty much it. Then I get more depressed and end up doing nothing."

"I know. Think you could spend ten minutes cleaning? That's all, just ten minutes."

"Sure, but we can't accomplish much in ten minutes. At least not without a bulldozer!"

"Set your oven timer or whatever for ten minutes, please, Alyssa. Now let's see how much we can accomplish in ten minutes. Grab a garbage bag and and start tossing anything that doesn't directly affect your life, health or finances! Feel the music and go!"

Getting into the spirit, I began swaying in time to the music and going through the stacks of catalogs, junk mail, empty Cheetos bags and so on. Since I always wore clothes, even when I was alone in the apartment, it felt strange to be completely bare – especially with someone else around. I was very aware of my unconfined breasts moving as I worked. When the buzzer sounded, the bag was almost a quarter full and there was a small area of counter top visible for the first time in weeks.

Nan reset the timer for twenty minutes, grabbed my hand and led me to the living room. When I started to talk about how much was still left to do, she shushed me. "We need to take your mind off the damned cleaning or you'll talk yourself out of ever going back to it," she muttered and used the 'next track' button on my CD player to skip a few songs. "Ganz In Weiss– All in White" she translated before I could ask. Taking my right hand with her left, she slipped her arm around my waist and began dancing to the gentle, lilting sound of a man's deep voice. I rested my head on her shoulder and lost myself in the music and the familiar scent of Navy, the mess in the kitchen forgotten for the moment. The next song was by a woman, the beat a little faster. We moved into a sort of Fox Trot rhythm – Nan was an excellent dancer – and finished out the album. Lowering both arms around my waist, she leaned in and kissed me. The taste of her lipstick, the feel of her hands sliding over my hips, the pressure of her breasts just above mine all assaulted my senses as thunder rolled in the background and the drumming of rain on the windows filled the room.

When the timer sounded, it took a second to shift back to the external world.

"Time for round two," she whispered in my ear as she gave my bottom a last squeeze and pulled away.

"Nan, I . . . "

"Come on. This is therapy, remember? Time to get back to to work . . . for ten minutes, anyway."

The ten minutes passed in a blur, as did the next and the next, until the growling in both our tummies couldn't be ignored any longer. "What do you have to feed your labor force, slave driver?" came her gentle husky voice.

"Not much," I admitted sheepishly.

"Then I hereby declare a Pizza Emergency," Nan said with a grin. "It's the Universal Specific, you know. I assume you have the nearest pizza parlor on the speed dial of your phone, so what kind do you want?"

"Pepperoni, I guess."

"My favorite, too. Why don't you order us one, thin crust if that's okay with you - my treat."

"Half hour to forty minutes," I reported after hanging up the phone.

"Good," said Nan as she set the timer again. "Time enough for another round."

"Now who's the slave driver," I complained good naturedly. Actually, I was quite pleased with what we'd accomplished – the permanent press was hung in the closet and my towels, jeans and such were nearing the end of their wash cycle. The dishes were in the washer instead of the sink and the junk from the counter, table and computer area was in garbage bags ready to be hauled off to the dumpster.

"Getting close to pizza time," Nan announced as she looked up from scrubbing the stove top and glanced at the clock. "Do we want to get dressed or do what everyone on the Internet seems to post videos of doing, and answer the door like this?"

"Do people really do that?" I asked, kind of intrigued.

"Supposedly. I've seen several videos of it, though some of the viewer's comments claim they were just staged, so I can't say for sure."

"What about you - have you ever done it?"

"No, but Ihavefantasized about it a time or three!" she admitted with a grin.

The ideawaskind of interesting, the more I thought about it. I was getting comfortable with my – and her – nudity, and the thought of answering the door like this sent little ripples through my grey matter. Walking topless in the hallway last night had awakened something buried deep inside me I had never recognized before. Had it been there all along or was it just Nan's bad influence? I looked at the smiling face of my Bad Influence and had to smile back. "Let's do it!"

After wiping off the now empty table and setting out the Parmesan cheese and napkins, we touched up our lipstick and hair. "I can't believe we're actually doing this!"

"Me, either," Nan confessed. "I've watched the videos and, well, gotten off imagining what it would be like, but now that it's really about to happen . . . listen, Alyssa – remember that we don'thaveto go through with it. All we need to do is have some robes or coverups handy in case we get cold feet at the last moment! This is more my fantasy than yours, and I don't want to talk you into something you don't want to do!"

I hugged her tightly and whispered, "It's become mine, too, so don't worry. But you're right; it never hurts to have have a safety net, just in case."

After some discussion, we decided we should at least put on our panties – 'answering the door topless' didn't sound quite as illegal as 'answering the door naked', should someone complain. I had put two robes by the door and both of us were watching the clock, fidgeting like horses waiting for the race to start. I was scared and excited all at the same time; from terminal depression the day before, I was zinging through a whole gamut of emotions. I glanced over at Nan, whose parted lips and quick breathing echoed my own.She feels it, too, just like me!

The sound of the doorbell made us both jump. I glanced at Nan, crossed my fingers then looked through the door's peephole, revealing a guy in his early twenties holding a pizza. I bit my lip.Last chance to back out.A second ring sounded. I went into the scenario we had discussed, opening the door a bit and peering out. "Oh - it's the pizza already," I said loudly, though it came out more like a squeak. "Sorry, didn't expect you this soon! A friend was helping me clean house, and we're not really dressed for visitors yet. Do you mind? If you want to wait just a minute, we can go get more presentable."

"Not a problem, I've got other deliveries to make so don't worry about how you look," he said cheerfully.

With this unwitting endorsement, I took a shaky breath, thought about it one more time, then pulled the door open wide. Nan had moved to stand beside me, and the look in his eyes as they flicked back and forth between us raised my internal thermostat almost to meltdown level! I didn't know what it was about standing half-naked in front a complete stranger that affected me this way, but my senses were working overtime as I reveled in the sensations that coursed through my mind and body like liquid fire!

"Whoa! You guys always do housework like this?"

"Not really," Nan chimed in. "She's always done hers in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt and I've always done mine completely naked. I'm trying to convince her it's more fun that way, but this as far as I've gotten."

"Definitely looks like fun, all right!"

"Well, I'm glad I didn't offend you by answering the door like this. It feels kind of funny to be standing here talking to you while I'm practically naked, but to tell the truth, I'm really enjoying it!" I said with a smile.

"So am I!" he answered quickly. "Wish more of my customers answered the door that way, at least the good-looking women. You, uh, you have great looking breasts - both of you," he smiled to include Nan.

"Thank you," she dimpled. "I'm kind of proud of them." Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted them and squeezed gently, causing her nipples to thrust out even further.

"Hey, I really do have some other deliveries to make, so I gotta run, but let me know when you convince your friend to do her housework in the nude, too, okay? I'd sure like to see that!"

"When I do," Nan smiled as she took the pizza box out of his unresisting hands and reached for her purse, "we'll order another pizza to celebrate and ask for you to deliver it. What's your name?"

"Andy," came the swift reply. "And, hey, this pizza's on the house!"

Impulsively, I stepped over and gave him a hug. "Why, thank you, Andy."

Moving away, I expected Nan to do the same, but she hesitated and he turned and opened the door. "Enjoy your pizza!" he said over his shoulder, taking one last, long look at the two of us before closing it.

We stood there grinning at each other like happy idiots, then Nan said in a shaky voice "Oh, Alyssa - that was sodamnedincredible! Don't you just LOVE being a woman and being able to do things like this?"

For an answer I threw my arms around her neck, went up on tiptoes and kissed her with all the heat that had been building up inside me. Nan bent her knees, wrapped her arms just below my fanny and straightened. With my feet completely off the floor, I clung to her more tightly and devoured the inside of her mouth with my tongue. Thinking of what we had just done and the 'forbidden fruit' sensation of kissing another woman was sending little electric tingles throughout my body. I was more aroused than I've ever been been in my life!

Lowering me back to the floor, Nan's hands moved over my back. Her fingernails traced down each each side of my spine before cupping my cheeks and pulling me tightly against her. "You're hot as a firecracker down there, girl!"

"You feel pretty fiery in that area, yourself," I replied as my hands clenched her firm butt and I leaned back, rubbing myself against her. The nylon of our panties made little swishing sounds that were barely audible above our breathing.

"Oh, 'Lyssa, that was everything I ever fantasized it would be! I feel like I'm about to explode in a cloud of sparks! Um, would it bother you if I went into the bathroom and did something about it?"