Acts of Faith Ch. 01

Tryss, continueing to roll with it, swayed in response to Temperence's eager mouth and roving hands. Occasionally, Temperence took in their reflections in the great mirror before them, watching herself as she tongued her friend's nipples to peak firmness and color. For a time, Tryss was running her fingers gently through Temperence's hair. Then, as their mouths met once more, Tryss went about removing the other's blazer. Dropping it to the floor, she turned Temperence to face the mirror, and then they both observed as Trystessa commenced to the unbuttoning of the other's blouse.

"I promise you," Tryss whispered into Temperence's right ear as she stared into the eyes of her reflection, "that I will keep this secret. I want to help you to remember, so you can have a fantasy when ever you want one."

Temperence took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and nodded. Then, opening them again, she watched as Trystessa pushed the blouse down from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Together they stared as Tryss then removed Temperence's bra, revealing her large, creamy white breasts and their large ariola. She then cradled their weightiness in each of her hands and caressed her way up and around to Temperence's nipples, which Tryss rendered immediately erect with a flick or two of her thumbs.

Presently, Tryss roved her way down to Temperence's panties. Studying her friend's eyes for any sign of discomfort or reluctance and seeing none, she proceeded to push her fingers down inside the underwear's waistband. Then, together, they watched the revealation of Temperence's womanhood. Her vulva was graced with a thick triangle of tightly curled brown hair. Temperence watched as Tryss gently stroked it, hoving her fingers over the dark mound of nether hair.

"Show me," whispered Temperence, "how you, rub one off?"

Trystessa smiled and hummed a soft laugh.

"Just open your flower," she told Temperence's reflection, "and start buzzing round the bud."

Her brow furrowed, Temperence turned to regard the real Tryss.

"Here, like this." Said Tryss, turning her attention back to the mirror.

Temperence did the same and took in her friend's demonstrating on her body, the forming of an upside down v around her vulva's clef. Then, when Tryss indicated the location of her clitoris by tapping its swolllen flesh, Temperence shook with a start. Shuddering, swallowing hard from the shock, she asked:

"What was that?"

Tryss, raising an eye brow and shrugging, answered:

"I don't know? Years of pent up frustration, maybe? Are you ready to try it? You'll still be a virgin afterward, just in case, you were worrying."

"Sure, but I think I'd better lay down first."

"Good idea."

Temperence climbed on, assumed a supine position, her legs bent, her feet riding the foot edge of the bed. Trystessa looked on as she gently stroked the curve of her friend's left calf.

"I like that you're watching." Temperence said as she spread her major lips with her left hand.

Then, remembering to slick up her fingers with a good coating of saliva, she went to task. Tryss looked on to observe Temperence start her first ring around the rose bud, but only to see her crash and burn. Temperence's eyes went wide and her mouth agape, her pelvis jumping as if shocked with electricity.

"What the Hell was that?" Tryss asked, "You were like, having an epaleptic seizure!"

"I'm too, sensitive!" Temperence exclaimed, "It kind of, hurts! I think I'm being punished!"

Abruptly, Temperence began to cry. Tryss went immediately to her side.

"Oh no no no Temps!" she tried to assure her, "That's perfectly rediculous. Just, just try to relax and slow it down and lighten the pressure. You've got to get to know yourself. Go ahead. Try again"

Again, Temperence tried and again, she shivered and bucked and sobbed.

"Honey,shhh, please, calm down. Look, I have another idea."

"What?" Temperence cried.

"Well, it'll be a first, again, for the both of us and, whether your hymen's broken already or not, you get to remain a virgin, at least from the heterosexual perspective, I think."

"What are you going to do?" asked Temperence, sniffling.

"First, I'm going to massage you down there, and then I think I want to use my mouth. Are you okay with it? Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Answered Temperence.

"Alright then. Scoot up toward the head board."

Temperance did as she was told. Trystessa crawled into the space between her friend's legs, widening the inverted V of her limbs before settling into a kneeling position. Ever so slightly, she touched her friend's sex and again she shuddered with a start. Reminding Temperance to relax, Tryss began to gesture soft slow circles along either side and above her clitoris. Presently, with each new circle, Temperance no longer shuddered or bucked with surprise.

Instead, she sat up to watch her friend's play. Trystessa, her mind full with the image of Temperance's dark haired sex, stared at it and was fascinated by its near perfect symmetry, a black framed jewelry box, rounded with the heat of urgent blood, its lips parted, the creature goddess pink velvet promise within its cushion, visible under the slowly waning light of the spring day, moisture modeling facets around Temperance's swollen gem stone.

Kneeling in worship, Trystessa gently cupped the mystery under her hands. She had no deeper idea of the tantric approach to sex beyond her surface understanding. Still, she moved her hands over Temperance's mound as one that has practiced the art, slowly, tenderly massaging, from bottom to top and outer to inner. On her elbows, fascinated, smiling slightly, Temperance studied her friend's hands and thought of gentle ocean waves and castles made of sand. Gradually, Tryss worked her palms into Temperance's flesh, parting her labia more widely and bringing the tips of her thumbs to her friend's hard clitoris.

Friction and saturation prevailed. Tryss had become the mistress of Temperance's pleasure. With eager, smiling eyes, she watched as Temperance's hips twitched, her chest heaved and the top of her head disappear into the pillow. After a time, Tryss spotted the thin trail of drool begin on the right side of her friend's gaping mouth. An instant more, Temperance began to whimper and cry. Panting, chest rising and falling quickly, Temperance opened her eyes briefly to meet Tryss's. Mouth agape, head further back, eyes now squinted shut, her head further back still, sweet cries, screams and joyous howls rose and left her throat for anyone to hear.

Temperance shook, riding her orgasm with every fiber of her being. Years of angst, depression and pent up sexual energy seemed to trickle its way out of Temperance's body, while Tryss did what she could to squeeze out every last drop. Happy with her complicity, Tryss looked on, somber yet smiling. Finally, Temperance fell silent as Tryss watched her body settle limply back into the mattress. Again, their gazes met. Blushing suddenly, unable to help herself, Tryss laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. You're so serious! And I feel, good, strange, but good. Who takes care of you Tempsie?"

"You do Tryss. Hum, I was wondering also if you could you like, kiss me a little more and, you know, come and suck my boobs with me."

"Suck them with you? How kinky! You mean you've sucked them for yourself before!?!"

Abruptly reddening again, Temperance smirked and looked away.

"Once," she answered, "Maybe twice."

"Oh that's so cute!" Tryss sang, "You have a dirty little slut in you!"

"O shut up and come here."

Still humming with laughter, Tryss crawled her way upward, kissing and licking her way along Temperance's hips, tummy and chest. Temperance met her, her mouth open and teeth bared. Tryss's laughter had ceased for the moment. Temperance was devouring her lips, sucking her tongue, lathering her admiration inside and around her ears, a hand deep inside her long hair, clutching to hold her in place.

A moment passed before Temperance relented, and then raised her right breast closer to her face. Tryss followed suit, grabbing both of Temperance's ample breasts. Like starving baby animals, they drank together, dragging tongues, tugging nipples, dry supple flesh growing wet and wetter still, kiss after kiss, drunken with the heat, the taste of each other. The fire, the taste, it was too much.

Tryss pulled away, held a shushing finger before her lips, stroked Temperance's hair with the other hand and begged her to be still. Torn, the guts of her sex rippling, she crawled back downward as desire pulsed in her fingers and welled inside her mouth. Kneeling once again between Temperance's legs, she followed through with her plan. Carefully, she probed just inside Temperance's vault and gently withdrew some of its richness, dragging the gold upward, painting her flesh up to her clitoral hood, and then going back down again.

Presently, she replaced her fingers with her mouth. As her lips found her clitoris, Temperance started and shuddered. Tryss put the tip of her tongue where her fingers had found success and lightened her circles until Temperance settled back into serenity. With a conviction, a clarity that made a complete circle of her base animal instinct and her sense of self, Tryss gently lapped around and around her friend's engorged clitoris. Temperance then, fueled by the power of her new knowledge, in terms she'd never before dared to even think, imagined her feelings as the calm sea and her kind Trystessa was her island shore, with shifting, quaking slabs of rock beneath as molten fire burned hot and hotter still.

Tryss used her own imagination to Temperance's advantage, lavishing her in every possible way she might lavish her favorite food. Temperance, her body and sex so relaxed that she seemed to no longer have a problem with any friction applied to her clitoris, had become Tryss's mana, her every twitch and shiver, morsels of fruit from the goddess that burned and pulsed between her lips.

Temperance's second orgasm came with a short series of mournful cries and she had begun to weep again. But, Tryss understood, with an immense contentment in her own heart and a fire burning in her depth, that her good friend was not in pain. Suddenly, Temperance went silent. Then, in the next instant, Tryss heard her gulping great breaths of air and felt her upper body rise. Then, with one final, prolonged sucking in of air and a long whimpering shudder, Temperance collapsed back down onto the bed.

Trystessa remained where she was, trailing lazy fingers through Temperance's mound and down along the symmetry of her perineum, taking in deep, quiet breaths of Temperance's musk. A new inspiration came to her. Why not, she asked herself. I've come this far. Sitting up then, Trystessa reached for the tub of wipes she'd set by the bottom left corner of her bed. Through heavy lidded eyes, Temperance watched as her friend withdrew two wipes and then closed the tub again.

Next, she watched as Tryss lifted her left leg high, and then proceeded to polish her anus with each of the wipes. Temperance started to utter some protest, but thought better of it. If Tryss was fine with it, then so should she. So Temperance relaxed as her friend crawled back between her legs, raised them both, pushing the backs of her thighs before raising her ass high enough to lap and suck and nibble at the very most unmentionable place of her body. After a time of her casual, taboo dining, Tryss lowered Temperance's legs again, and then laid down beside her.

"Tryss?"

"Yeah honey?"

"I'll still be a virgin if I, eat you in return?"

Trystessa glanced briefly at Temperance, and then looked away. Deep in thought, she said nothing for a time. Temperance sat up and regarded her friend as she reached across her for the wipes. Tryss looked on as Temperance glumly wiped her face and sex. Then, in a quiet voice, she said:

"I have to admit that, I feel a little guilty about just letting you return the favor."

"Why?" asked Temperance as she spread a fresh wipe flat upon her thigh.

"Well," Tryss answered, "If you are decidedly gay, then my thinking is that I can't let you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"So then, are you, do you now, after what we did, believe, without a shade of doubt, yourself to be a lesbian?"

Trystessa watched as Temperance continued to smooth the wipe upon her thigh. She was studying it, like brushing cloth, seeking an answer. But, there were no folds, only a flat, opaque white, surrounded by smooth peach tinted flesh. Then, finally, Temperance looked up, her gaze grave and intense. In spite of herself, Trystessa felt strangely unnerved by the look. A kiss, she thought, a kiss would be the right thing to happen now. Or would it? Tryss chose not to initiate. However, Temperance did, her expression not changing before her eyes closed for the sake, the sanctity of the kiss, so that Tryss too could succumb to the moment and be comforted by it. Then, when they finally drew their mouths apart again, Temperance nodded and whispered the words:

"I do."

4

The next day, Monday, was just as pleasant. Spring had settled in and love, in its varying degrees, was in the air, floating in the occasionally passing cloud of pollen and in the flight of young wakeful bees. Birds sang and flowers blossomed. Beautiful women and handsome men, as well as those who weren't so beautiful or handsome, dressed with more exposed skin. They came into the clothing store Trystessa managed, where she toiled until she could go home again to do what she wanted, which was, nothing.

She could do nothing but think, to imagine and reflect. There was too much on her mind, the day before with Temperance, the things they'd done, the change she'd facilitated, the corruption she felt certain she was wholly responsible for. Should I have her come over? No, maybe I shouldn't. Had it been fun? Did Trystessa have a good time? Absolutely. Would she tell anyone about it? Absolutely not. Had she slept the night before? Not really. Trystessa, alone in her bed, her face against a pillow, breathing in the vestige smell of Temperance's hair, had twisted in the sheets like a bitch in heat.

The rest of their afternoon had passed as pleasantly as most of their afternoons had, chatting over lunch or as they shopped for clothes. Yet there was a tension, a sexual tension, like an invisible tether between them. It was there in Tryss's car, as she drove them to the Indian place that Temperance suddenly wanted to try. Tryss would glance occasionally down at the empty distance between her hand on the stick shift and Temperance's hand that rested on the thigh she'd been brushing just before her confession, her admission.

But Temperance hadn't lost her composure to reach for Tryss's hand nor had she let anything show beyond her usual conservative conversation and demeanor as they'd discussed safe matters over a very tasty lunch or as they dawdled through the aisles and racks of clothes in their favorite outlets. The only clue Tryss had that Temperance too felt the tension was the slight blush on her face each time she'd exited the changing booth and modeled this or that outfit for her, and Tryss could see a knowing in her eyes, a carnal questioning and simultaneous answer: yes, I know now and will know more, I desire to know more, more with you.

Which was why, after they'd driven back, that Trystessa had invited her in once more. Her excuse was that she wanted to see her try on her more unusual choices of brighter colored outfits. So, after Tryss locked the door, Temperance had undressed, dressed and dressed again while, under the scrutiny of Trystessa's cell phone camera, she posed and poised herself seductively as her good, good friend snapped shot after shot.

Awake, brimming with want, she had sent a single text, r u up, to Temperance as she vividly recalled performing cunnilingus for her again after their little photo shoot. Still, she waited, and though her recollection was bright and crisp, Trystessa went through her phone record of her friend's body and all of its most succulent parts. Still, Temperance had not answered, which Tryss chalked up to her being totally spent from the emotional roller coaster of the day.

Then, feeling stupid, she tried to start a texthersation with Bob. It was common for him to be up at that hour. He answered, but his contributions only led to his inquiry into coming over. Now? No. When then? I D K. So she ignored him. Then, she thought to text Temps again or e-mail her or call her. But, it felt, odd. Then, as the night wore on into dawn, it was less and less likely that she would and, choosing instead to rub off a good one to the conjured image of Temperance eating her in return, never did.

Still, Trystessa had not heard from Temperance. driving home finally at the work days end, wondering for the millionth time why it was so hard for her to just give the woman a call and fretting over why Temperance hadn't called, Trystessa pulled up to her home, right behind a florist's van.

"Are you Trystessa Stewart?" asked a man, sandy haired, smiling warmly, with a clipboard in hand as he descended her front steps.

"I am." Tryss answered as curses and blessings fluttered and spun in the depths of her soul.

"I've got a delivery for you."

Delivery? Flowers? Fuck. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!! No! This cannot be!

"Oh, uh, well," Trystessa floundered, "let me unlock the door."

Unnerved, she unlocked her front door while the delivery man went back to his van. Presently, he returned with a dozen white roses. Then he left, which struck Tryss as unusual, no pause, no smile, no waiting for a tip. But, the man returned, trailed by another younger man, he too with his own nice smile, each hefting another dozen roses a piece, one pink, and the other red. Tryss's mouth dropped and she gestured.

"Oh we're not done." The younger man said.

"You're, not done?" Tryss repeated.

No, they weren't done, not for a while. After the sixth dozen, Trystessa had to sit down. She pulled out her phone and selected Temperance's number. There was no answer. Then, for the Hell of it, she dialed Bob. He didn't pick up either, but, as dozens seven and eight were brought into the house and set on the couch, she lingered, struck stupid, a quagmire of emotions churning in her gut, and so had no choice but to leave a message.

"Hey Bob," she said through a faked up grin, "It's Tryss. Ring me back when you get a chance, kay? Bye."

Then, twelve dozens of white, pink and red roses filling her living room, Trystessa handed the delivery guys each a five dollar bill and sent them on their way. She wanted to call Temperance again, but then she thought she should look for the card. Trystessa set about her search, the strangest mingling of emotions she'd ever experienced firing her neurons so quickly that she could barely think it all out while her heart felt as if it had dropped into the pit of her stomach. Trystessa wanted to be angry. She wanted to be grateful. She felt like she was in huge trouble. She felt quite flattered. She thought she should be afraid. She believed she should drop everything, quit her life and disappear without a trace.

Eventually, she found the card, poking from one of the dozens of the white roses, as if it being set among the pinks or the stark white of surrender, innocence and friendship would have less of a portentous impact.

"Dearest Trystessa: You have opened up the whole world for me. I cannot, with words, describe how grateful I am to you. So please accept these roses as a token of my admiration and know that, in having prayed over it throughout the night and into this morning, I will be saving myself for you. I am yours, and yours alone. I know this may seem frightening for you, but that veil too shall pass because you are the purest encapsulation of all that is good and wonderful in the world. You have made me blessed and I owe you my love, honor and respect. When you are ready, you will come to me. Always, Temperance.