Acts of Faith Ch. 01

Presently, Tryss returned, a few towels thrown over her shoulder and baring a bottle of body wash and a plastic basin. Setting the items down, she pushed the coffee table aside, and then knelt at Temperance's feet. Struck speechless, Temperance saw that the basin was filled with water, upon which a smaller plastic bowl floated to an edge and settled.

"You know that new Pope seems pretty cool." Tryss Remarked as she began to relieve Temperance of her shoes, "Are you wearing thigh highs or pantyhose?"

Not Catholic herself, she was distantly aware of the Rapists' new leader, a progressive, she'd heard. Clearing her throat, Temperance answered:

"Yes. He seems to be a very kind, tolerant, man. I'm wearing pantyhose."

"I guess there are more than a few who think him a little, too, broadminded? Stand up and I'll help you take them off."

Temperance, blushing, studied Tryss, considering her words. She was obviously referring to the Roman Catholic's pontiff's encouraging the diocese to be more inclusive and accepting of women generally but specifically those who led in the church by washing their feet on the Thursday before Good Friday. What is Tryss thinking? What is she trying to do? The tradition was for men, a symbolic act that dated back to the last supper. Does she assume to be my teacher?

Eventually, under Temperance's stare, Trystessa too flushed, as if she could read the thoughts inside her devout friend's head. Temperance watched her look away, watched her rub her hands nervously back and forth upon her bare thighs. Assuming it or not, Temperance decided, she is. Until I pray over what comes to pass, she is. Temperance got to her feet, reached her hands behind her, and then proceeded to unzip her skirt. Leaning forward, Trystessa lent her shoulder so that her friend could step out of her discarded skirt.

"I imagine it must be hard for a lot of men, priests, to get their heads around washing a woman's feet. " Tryss remarked as she folded Temperance's skirt and tossed it gently to the far end of the sofa.

"Why?" Temperance asked, having a good idea what the answer might be as a legion of goose flesh paraded from her calves on up to her scalp.

"Well," Tryss said while carefully rolling Temperance's pantyhose down from under her blouse, "there is the historical basis for it in antiquity, all those years not washing women's feet and the fact that women, we, are, how can I say it, are such diabolically subversive, insatiable creatures. We are so beguiling, so provocative, such a sensual threat to men that even the slightest suggestion of skin beyond or faces, heck even our faces in some parts of the world, that men can't stop the feelings they can have for us."

Temperance sat back down by the time Tryss had her hosiery past her knees, studying her friend as she lowered each leg the rest of the way, and then pulled them off.

"Is that, how you feel," Tryss asked, tossing the loop of sheer nylon aside and then pulling down the largest towel from her shoulder, "like even the slightest sight, the slightest touch makes you insane with desire?"

Temperance said nothing. Trystessa smiled as she watched her friend blush anew, taking it as answer enough. With her hands folded neatly on her lap, Temperance observed her hostess spread the towel beneath her feet. Upon the towel, Tryss set the basin to the right, filled the smaller bowl, and then set that on the left. Into the small bowl, Tryss squeezed some of the soap, took a wash cloth from her shoulder and sunk in in the bowl. Then, after wringing it out some, she took Temperance's left foot and proceeded to rub the wash cloth over the top and across, then between her toes and under.

Lifting the foot, she gave particular attention to Temperance's heel, scrubbing the bottom, sides and back. Once satisfied with her work, Tryss set Temperance's foot in the basin of clean water. Then, she followed in exactly the same manner, her attention to the right foot, rubbing, smoothing and scrubbing. Now and again, Trystessa peered up to gauge Temperance's expression and was confident that, though she may have been praying to herself, she was visibly relaxed.

Presently, Tryss finished washing Temperance's right foot and set it gently next to its mate in the basin. She realized the silence that had grown between them during the process. Again, she peered into Temperance's face. She was alert, the picture of patient anticipation. What should interrupt the silence? What could she say to a woman, a friend who lived most of her life without really understanding what she was depriving herself of? Suddenly, a twinge of guilt bubbled and foamed in the pit of Tryss's stomach. Maybe this is wrong, she thought again.

"What's the matter?" Temperance asked.

Glancing away, Tryss reflected on her first visitor of that morning. Angels have long, flowing robes and great big wings, she thought. They don't freaking go around topless.

"Nothing." She answered, "How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think this is crazy?"

Temperance nodded, and then smiled. Tryss smiled in return, feeling still somewhat nervous, but comfortable with moving forward. In the next instant, she took the last towel from her shoulder, draped it upon her lap, set Temperance's feet on it, and then proceeded to rub them dry. Then, the observance completed, she graced the top of Temperance's feet each with a brief, reverent, kiss. Sitting back up, Tryss watched the color rise in Temperance's face, her expression a synthesis of placid incredulity and astonishment.

"May I," asked Temperance very quietly, "do the same for you?"

"Why not?" answered Tryss with a shrug.

Getting to her feet, Trystessa picked up the basin and the bowl and carried them back into the kitchen. Stopping at the sink, she mused over how well the foot cleansing had worked as an ice breaker, then realized that the rest of the ice might be Titanic sized. She knew what she was up against, but did Temperance? She'd never even gone to a sleep over hump party when she was a kid. Tryss remembered what Temperance's angel had told her: Oh, she'll let you, but you'll have to ease her in. With a basin of fresh hot water and a fresh wash cloth, Tryss returned to the living room, thinking that completing little Rosy Isis's mission might take all day and night.

Temperance was already kneeling on the towel. Trystessa set the basin and bowl down beside her, and then settled into the seat that her guest had vacated. She was the picture of solemnity as Tryss watched her deferentially pick up her left foot, set it upon her lap, and then gently run her fingers over every feature and facet. . Presently, Temperance went about the cleansing, going through the motions almost exactly as Tryss had done.

However, the first difference was that she had incorporated a massage into the act. . With the soapy wash cloth or with her bare fingers, Temperance rubbed ever widening circles across the ball, arch and heel of each foot. Gradually, she increased the pressure, continuing to knead up and down the smooth contours of Tryss's feet. . Looking up from her work, she observed that Tryss's expression was an odd fusion of bemusement and sleepy tranquility.

"Oh my goodness," she said, the words whiling out of her mouth, "You, are really good at that. How is it that you can massage so well?"

"I don't know." Temperance replied, "I just can, I guess. You mean Bob hasn't done this for you?"

Trystessa chuckled abruptly.

"Bob has very little notion or interest as to what is pleasing to me." Tryss admitted.

Temperance, distracted by thought, softened her touch and puttered her nails and finger tips with lazy strokes, drawing lines, curves and swirls across both the bottoms and tops of Tryss's feet. She rendered a diagram of her desire in circles, hearts and diamonds across Tryss's supple skin and lovely tapered toes.

"My dear Temperance," Trystessa quietly uttered between slow shallow breaths, "I surrender. I am yours. If I fall asleep, wake me up so we can move on to the next phase of the, festivities or another unbelievable foot massage, whichever comes first."

"Tryss?" Will I still be a virgin after, this?"

Oh my God, she did not just ask me that.

"You mean after this miraculous foot rub?"

"No silly. After you, feed my animal heart."

Tryss, suddenly alert, opened her eyes, regarded Temperance, consulted the hovering dust moat that still whirled in the brightening rays of sun that cut across the room, and then leveled her gaze once more at her chaste and naive friend. After I feed your animal heart?

"Temps?" she said, "Have you been writing porn on your free time?"

"What?" Temperance laughed, "No!"

"Have you done searches on Wishapedia for how far a virgin can go before she isn't anymore?"

"Maybe."

"And?"

"No one agrees, straight or gay."

"Because anyone can rationalize anything they want. So, what do you want?"

"I want to suck your toes."

"Oh. Okay. Well, stop interrupting your progress and get to it.

Temperance resumed her gentle massage until Tryss once more closed her eyes. Through her euphoric stupor, Tryss was aware of the eventual rinsing, and then the drying of her feet. Then, whether or not Temperance cared that the other was watching, she put her lips and tongue in place of her hands, and kissed and sucked every last sumptuous curve. Trystessa had indeed opened her eyes just wide enough to witness the other's delighting in her feet, seeing that she was consumed by the pleasure of the giving. She saw that Temperance's cheeks and chin had begun to glisten as wetly as the objects of her desire as she literally stuffed them into her mouth, as if starved and having come to find the most decadent sweets she'd ever known.

Wow, Tryss mused, the angel wasn't kidding. The sight had suddenly triggered her pussy into a slow salivation, salvation beginning to saturate the crotch of her panties. She imagined her friend eating her with the same zeal. Eventually, Temperance saw that Tryss had been watching her and began to redden all over again as she giggled. Tryss too began to laugh, both out of embarrassment and growing pleasure.

Presently, the silence and Temperance's solemnity returned and Tryss felt no fear over the swelling inside her own sex as she took in the beauty of Temperance's having lost herself in the fetishistic novelty of the act, indulging in the apparrantly pleasant taste, textures and feelings that inspired her to continue to lick and nibble and kiss, from toe to toe, between and around, from ball to heel and ticklish arch. Finally, it was Temperance herself that brought a conclusion to her reverie. Without any further shame or embarrassment, she wiped her face dry, rinsed Trystessa's feet a second time, and then dried them a second time.

They stared at each other for a solemn moment, until Temperance bowed her head. Trystessa felt the feeling inside her grow, a feeling like Christmas morning, when she was six or seven or ten. She mused over her role in the dynamic, considered the opportunity and, as she'd advised Temperance to do, she imagined the possibilities.

"Now I want to show you something." She Announced, "I'll take the tub of water and stuff. You take the towels and dump them in the hamper in the bathroom upstairs, then meet me in the kitchen.

Having fulfilled her hostess's request, Temperance advanced into the kitchen. Trystessa had reassumed her position at the counter and appeared to have resumed the reading of her paper. Keenly aware of the impenitence that was quickening the beat of her heart, Temperance resumed her admiration of Trystessa's posterior. Her mind opened to create an experience for herself, she searched the silence to determine how she might proceed, but no answer came. There was only the sight of her good friend's body and her own seething she-beast, howling inside her depth, her tail high and straight, her hind quarters raised in response to the fire of her stress.

Drawing closer, Temperance noticed that Trystessa had apparrantly gathered a tub of hygienic wipes and a tube of some variety of lotion. Upon deeper consideration, she surmised what the lotion might be intended for and blushed anew. She chose to take the space beside Trystessa, leaving none between them, and began to skim the text the other appeared to be reading. Temperance leaned in to smell Trystessa's hair and to ask:

"Is this what you wanted to show me," the paper?"

"Hmm, no." Tryss answered, "I wanted you to pull down the back of my underwear and check out my ass."

Temperance felt a new wave of goose flesh dash across her shoulders. She wasted little time, straightening, stepping back and around to Tryss's rear. Then, watching her fingers do their work, she unveiled a new scrumptious looking sweet for herself, two perfectly shaped buns, a lovely shadowed clef between them, where a forbidden taboo waited.

The first touch of her finger tips were feather light. Trystessa felt their warmth against the cool smooth skin of her ass. In the silence, she began to hear the tender swish of Temps's palm making slow vertical strokes up and down the lobes of her cheeks. Then, as Trystessa's spine began to tingle with the pleasant crawl of goose bumps, the news paper's type seemed to muddy into stretches of indecipherable nonsense. A moment more, Trystessa raised her head and said, her voice quietly sensual:

"You know, I am pretty certain that you can thoroughly explore the inside of my ass, and you'll still be a virgin when it's over."

"You, like that sort of, activity?" Temperance asked, the longest fingers of her left hand already probing deeper inside her friend's lovely fissure.

"When I'm doing it with someone I'm fond of and trust, yes, very much. Are you, interested?"

"Yes." Temperance whispered.

Getting to her knees behind Trystessa, her heart pounding with anticipation, Temperance quickly pulled her friend's underwear the rest of the way down. Then, kicking them aside, Tryss spread her feet apart while Temperance crawled forward for a closer look. Presently, Trystessa began to feel the very pleasant sensations of her friend's lips and tongue, devoting the same luxurious attention to the lobes of her ass as she had her feet. Oh this girl is a natural, she mused while gathering up the paper and setting it aside.

If Tryss could have seen Temperance's face, she would have observed the same focused fascination she'd exhibited in the living room. She was relishing the texture and taste of Tryss's buttocks. Her breathing was no longer tentative. Temperance, no longer uncertain of having her face so dangerously close to another's anus, drank in deeply of the fragrance. Parting Tryss's cheeks, gripping the sweet ripe fruit with covetous hands and widening her friend's fissure with her thumbs, ever more deeply did Temperance drive her lips and tongue.

By then, Trystessa had draped herself comfortably upon the counter, bringing her head to rest on her folded arms. It occurred to her that she should attempt to reassure her friend of how truly clean and disease free she was. But Tryss didn't get the chance because, in that instant, there it was, Temperance's tongue slipping around and around and as far in as she could get it. My my, she thought, there goes the flood gates. Lucky me, three firsts in one day. Far more relaxed and enthused than she'd ever been during a carnal pursuit, Tryss gave Temperance the chance to have a thoroughly intimate experience of her ass while allowing herself the time to bask in the glory of receiving her very first, momentous, ass munching.

"You know," she purred, "It would really be great if you put some of that lube on your longest fingers, and then drove them up my ass."

Temperance got to her feet, and then stepped around the counter to take up the tube. Tryss watched as her friend squeezed some of the tube's contents onto the fingers of her right hand.

"That's enough," Tryss instructed, "Now rub some around my hole, gently work one finger in, and then wait for me to tell you to add another."

Something that might have been reluctance crossed Temperance's face and she asked:

"So, Bob never did this for you either?"

Blushing, Tryss answered:

"No. He's just not, the right person to know me this way. I'm sorry. If you don't-"

Without another word, Temperance disappeared around her backside. Trystessa spread her feet further part as Temperance committed to the first step. Then, with tender care, she slid a finger into the ring of her friend's anus. Deeper she went, as deep as she could, driving her long finger, probing, gently fucking, tuning herself to the textures at her finger's tip. Temperance's heart continued to flutter like a bird that has become aware that the door of its cage has been opened. Her sex too held its own intensity. It felt as if having climbed out of its confines to gauge the jump, its muscles taut, its desire keen, its fangs dripping, its wet heart pulsing.

"You can add another now."

Temperance did.

"And, another."

Temperance paused.

"It's okay. Do it. I can take it."

Temperance slowly eased a third finger in. Tryss moaned, and then raised her upper body from the counter. Enthralled, Temperance watched Tryss lather the fingers of her right hand with saliva, and then reach it down the front of her.

"What are you doing?" whispered Temperance.

"Rubbing one off."

"Can I watch?"

"Not right now. You're kind of busy."

Temperance suddenly felt Tryss tighten the draw strings of ass muscles around her fingers. She studied what she could see of her friend's face as she gained the impression of her body rumbling, like shots in rapid succession, like a self-combusting engine, its pistons, punching and falling, punching and falling, until Trystessa's head lolled back and she began to whimper and squeal. Temperance's mind was completely silenced by the experience of watching Tryss's orgasmic, of the feeling of having her fingers squeezed inside her clenched ass. Then, her orgasm complete, Trystessa leaned forward and turned her head, as if to convey that Temperance should remove her fingers.

Doing so, she then took the wipes that Tryss had removed from the tub for her. Face to face, each equally solemn, they stared for a moment. Presently, Tryss was the first to decrease the distance between their mouths. Temperance watched and felt her friend softly sniff around her cheeks, lips and chin. Temperance began to do the same, their lips grazing, giggling, smiling then serious again, drawing in deeper breaths of one another, tantalizing, tasting until their lips met. It was a gentle kiss, a thing one could turn away from if the feeling wasn't right.

But, the feeling was superbly right. Temperance finally knew for certain that it was the animal, the conduit between her soul and the world that inspired everything, made everything happen that needed to happen. She understood then, as their next kiss was born, lived and led into the luxury of the next, that kissing was the key and the lock of intimacy, the act of affection that bridged the time and distance between the more lascivious and fleshly passions.

For a long while, they continued to kiss, lingering, speaking not a word, luxuriating, whetting hot and bothered, still, until Trystessa stepped back and regarded Temperance's blouse and Sunday best blazer. Smiling, she tucked the lube and wipes under an arm, took her friend's hand, and then led her upstairs.

Temperence followed Trysstessa into her bedroom and scanned the scene, clean, bright, simple, white lace, queen sized bed, big mirror over the bureau parallel to the foot of the bed and a set of ivory curtains over the windows. Temperence made a quick survey of herself in the space of mirror Tryss wasn't blocking and saw the redness in her cheeks. Their mouths met again for a new string of kisses. They made little dancers of their lips. Each kiss ebbed and flowed like tide to surf, perpetual, kiss crashing into kiss crashing into kiss. Tryss was silent as Temperence reached under her worn sweater and roved her eager hands gently across the supple terrain of her back, ribs and breasts. A moment later, Temperence tugged the thing from Tryss's body, exposing her breasts, two conical, not so very large but no less pretty, dollups, gently weighted to the sides, "one, the left, perhaps a quarter cup larger than the right. Tryss reddened, her expression bemused yet grave as she cast her eyes at the diminished space of floor between their feet. Temperence smiled, engratiated, humbled by the first self consciousness she'd seen in Tryss. She moved in then, trailing her fingers, cheeks, lips and tongue around the contours of Tryss's breasts and the small pink nipples at their centers.