Erin No Bra

While I think that I was lost in loving her, I do remember having a regret. While kissing her as we began after we'd somehow shed our clothing, my hands were in those soft curls of hers that I so loved, I knew I hadn't looked at her pubic hair, at how it must look with the rich red that was so natural to her. My lips kissed her face endlessly, forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, and yes, her eyes that brought such a sweet sound of enjoyment from her. I was truly lost in those kisses I laid on her, but my hands started to wander to other parts of her body, then my lips went to her ears, thence to her neck, which she also dearly loved.

Of a certainty, I was moving inexorably down her body, my lips kissing her breasts, suckling her nipples, and my hands following the joys of the contours of the side of her body. Suddenly the unbidden thought of complaint came up in me that I missed my hands in her hair, kissing her face, and it frustrated me that I didn't have more hands and lips so I wouldn't have had to leave off of being in all of those places.

That thought, I believe, pushed me further into being lost in loving her, and wanting to love every cell I could reach, but interminably. It was a frustrating thought in itself, but a heady one too as I felt myself going deeper and deeper into my love of her. In short, I was torturing myself with a most beautiful torture. And Erin too.

Yes, I was torturing her, but her hips knew where I should end her torture no matter how enjoyable my kisses and caresses were to her. Oh, she enjoyed them all right, even down to her toes. I'd never loved toes of any previous lover, but I was certainly lost in hers, my tongue slithering wildly between them, first one, then another, and in no particular order. Maybe I stayed there because her hips really began to do a wild number, swinging, swaying, bumping up and down, and sometimes doing so in a staccato fashion, as if they were stuttering. Maybe it made me sense that she truly loved what I was doing to her at that instance and her body was telling me to keep it up, yet remind me of where her true core of love was.

By the time my kisses reached to where her thighs met, and my fingers parted her hair, I was greeted by the torrential form of her visible love. Her aroma drove me insane with desire, causing my face to try to bury itself in her generous expression of love. Soon I was moaning more than she was, loving the taste of her love as I drank it, regretting again that I hadn't seen the true color of her hair, wondering if it was as atop her head. Feeding my need of her as best I could, then alternately pressing my cheeks to her lips and sensing that I had not only found the center of her love, but that of life itself. Sensing that, I know I moaned even louder, and tried to enter her so I could live forever in her love.

When it was finally over for her, Erin had screamed in her rapture, and kept on swinging her hips wildly, and trying to batter my face with them, but I hung on, refusing to be moved from her swollen lips, or from lapping up all she flooded me with.

She passed out and slept, but breathing with difficulty, though it was getting better with each breath. Me? I couldn't imagine a reason for leaving where I had my face. I still wanted to bury myself in her love, or at the very least, keep drinking of her love that was continually flowing from her. Very carefully, I drank it, aware that she was sensitive, and that I should be considerate of her though I didn't want to consider anything but loving her more and more. Eventually, she woke up, and tried to get my attention, but it only served as a reason for me to love her anew.

This time I thought I took longer in my love of my sweet Erin. Who knows, I was so lost in her again. My thoughts again went to her matted hair, to wondering at its color, and would I prefer to have her lips as mine were, or to be able to see that red color of hers that I loved so much. Reveling in my thoughts while I enjoyed making love to her, my tongue luxuriated in loving her. It was so sweet to me to give her all of those slow, deep licks that kept lightly teasing her clitoris at each ending. When she could not contain herself any longer, her final climax was much longer, also deeper, causing her to shudder interminably, which I dearly loved. And yes, her love flow continued to reward me. It was as if she bled love onto me, liquid love brewed especially to my taste.

When I woke up, my bleary eyes told me it was nearly dawn. My mouth was sticky, my nose tickled—probably what woke me up—and I felt such a happiness at knowing where I was at, my face still at her lovely, delicate, delicious, beautiful pussy that was threatening to overwhelm me once more.

My one hand was under her ass, and I wanted to caress it, but feared waking her from her sleep. A silly thought came to me: was her ass as gorgeous as I thought it was, round, firm, lust inducing as I sensed it had to be in reality? No, what was truly silly was me thinking that it must be, and maybe it would be better if each cheek had a nipple on it as her breasts did—identical, nice fat ones that suckled so easily. Even sillier, I saw her cheeks with nipples, and nearly laughed, then thought they would hurt when she sat down on them as she surely must.

"What are you keeping from laughing at?" my sweet and sexy girl asked.

"Mm", I sounded, and did laugh lightly as I caressed the cheek my hand held. "I love waking up like this," I avoided her question.

"And I loved being put to sleep like you put me to sleep last night, now what about that laughing?"

I lifted her leg up a bit, and kissed that cheek, and nibbled on it a bit to her delight.

"Careful, I have to go," she warned, "but I still want to know what you were laughing about."

"Yes, and good morning to you too. Have I told you that you have the most delicious and most scrumptious pussy?"

"No, and you can't get out of telling me, so give," she said demanding in the sweetest voice in the world.

In response, and so I could look at where those nipples might go, I rubbed my face in her pussy and hoped she wouldn't pee on me.

"Oh boy, I gotta go, but I'm not forgetting," she promised.

Languorously, I smiled, turned, and watched her arise and start to walk away. That was nearly a mistake. God, her ass was so sexy, lustily round just as I had thought, only more so, and positively ravishing to look at, and wholly erotic. Then my mind conjured up those nipples, and I laughed uproariously.

Finished, she came out, arms akimbo, and demanded that I confess. But now, in the light of day, I could look at her pubic hair, and as I did, I marveled at my dilemma. It was much as the hair on her head, though not exactly in the soft curls. The sight of her so clearly naked and savory to my eyes, my lust nearly propelled me to gather her up and have my way with her again. Nearly!

"God, it's tough talking to you when I can see how sweet and beautiful you are. Get dressed unless you want to be thrown on the bed again, and ravished cause you're driving me nuts, girl, and I mean bonkers."

She grinned. "Maybe I'll just tease you some then. I love the way you look at me, but don't you think that I'll forget about you laughing," she made sure I knew she'd not forget.

"Yes, dear," I smiled, got up, went and hugged her, and felt of both cheeks as I did, and nearly moaned with the pleasures that shot through me. "But first I need to use the facilities too."

"Hurry up so I can dress slowly while I make you look. Maybe you'll get hornier and throw me on the bed like you threatened. Hm, or maybe I'll throw you on the bed. Or we can throw each other on the bed," she rambled on as I finished, and went to wash. When I came back, she was staring at my hairless pussy, and licked her lips.

We threw each other on the bed.

That was wild, fun, sexier than anything I'd ever known, and so heavenly when we both finished together.

"Good god, what have I been missing?" she complained as I kept on squeezing on her cheeks, and kept pulling her to my face. "And your pussy! Mercy, it felt so good to my lips and tongue. You must be wanting me to be like you so you can enjoy it as I enjoyed yours."

"Maybe. I love how your hair looks, and I'm not sure what I wish you'd do. If you shave it, I'll not be seeing how sexy your pussy looks with it. It's like its warning me that it's hot as can be, or that I'll get singed when my face gets too close, it's so hot. I'll have to leave it up to you, I think," I dumped it all on her to decide.

"It felt too good not to let you to savor it as I did yours, and lord, I think you meant it when you said you'd love me a lot, or however you put it. Can you promise me you will?" she teased.

"If I keep on like this, you'll kill me, or drive me to insanity," I honestly told her.

"None of this dying on me stuff. Crazy? Okay, as long as we're together and they let us love. Yeah, then we could love endlessly, huh? Just think of it, no work, no nothing, just two crazy women making love all the time."

"You're making me horny again," I said, and began to lick her pussy again.

That set her off too, and we made long love to each other. Long, sweet, arduous, avid, tender, loving love. I began thinking of ways to keep us both home, and to heck with working. Could we survive on each other's offerings of love? I'd heard of liquid diets before, but I didn't need to be on a diet, though I'd probably go on one with her if she wanted to.

* * * *

We did dress. If we hadn't, we'd have made love until they buried us.

"Okay, enough stalling, then we'll get on to more serious stuff. So give with the laughing thing," she said.

I confessed. She laughed. "You're certifiable, totally and completely, but I love you anyway. Or more, maybe," she said, and kissed me.

"So what's the important things in your opinion, that we have to talk about?"

"Will you go with me the next time I see Charmaine?"

"If you want me to, sure."

"Yes, I want you to. Now, are you serious about us living together, or waiting, or what?"

"Sure I'm serious, but only if it's okay with you, and where would you prefer?"

"Here, with you, and if you don't know it yet, yes, it's okay with me, but you'll have to put up with me while I fight these damned demons that keep bugging me."

"Mm, I'm all yours to command, love of my life. Just tell me what I have to be patient with specifically, and I'll do it if it kills me."

"Honey, I'm serious," her face did suddenly turn serious. "All the time I've been going to the club, I kept telling myself that I'm a good Catholic girl, and never let myself think of going with any of the girls. It was killing me to keep it all bottled up inside my mind, never mind my pussy. Honest, it's been horrible for me. I was raised Catholic, and of the worst kind, and that's all I knew, going to Catholic schools right through college. Oh, I know a lot of the girls that were like me in going to the Catholic schools didn't think much about the sex thing, but I did. I did and it's been terrible."

"Were some of those girls lesbians, or do you know if they were?"

"No, I don't know, but it seems they were with boys, so I guess not, or maybe they felt that they had to be with boys to look proper to any who might wonder. I don't know."

"So what about Charmaine? How is she helping you?"

"Honestly?" she asked, her face somber. I nodded. "If I read her right, and yes, I do read her right, if she's successful in teaching me, she'll have me not even going to church, I don't think."

"Why's that?" I had to ask, and on cue.

"She was a Catholic too, but then went to other churches, and she doesn't like any of them. Also, she told me about another lady who taught some bible classes, but she was killed. Oh, and she said someone else started them up again, but they're a long way off, so that's out. Anyway, she's pretty anti-church now."

"I thought you said she wasn't pushing you?"

"She isn't. That's the hard part for my mind, or my training, or brainwashing as she called it, though she meant that about all the Christian churches, and most others, I think too."

"And? What are your thoughts on it?"

"You're not helping me any," she bitched. "Not that I blame you. She did say it was up to me, that I had to live my life, and thus I had to make my own life decisions."

"That sounds good, or right, I think," I had to say.

"You're right, just as she was. Anyway, she said one of the authors of the books she gave me was a former nun, and excellent in her teachings. She said she backs up what she says with scripture, or whatever else is called for, and is easy to read, and as far as she's concerned, the lady who wrote it is right on mostly."

"Mostly? How so?"

"The author, Karen Armstrong, I think still feels that though a lot of what we have is wrong, or unprovable, that we still need faith. But as far as I know she hasn't come out and said specifically that she doesn't believe in what we have, and I think she may still believe in Jesus. Then again, I haven't read all of her books yet."

"Okay, so how's that making you go away from your church, your Catholicism?"

Her shoulders did that thing, like a shrug that wasn't a shrug, a slump that wasn't a slump, but let me know she didn't like what she was going to say. I didn't push her.

"She said that all they do is give a lot of hocus-pocus with their rituals, and most are made up, and not what Jesus is thought to have taught, or what they wrote that he taught."

"What do you think of that, the part of it being made up stuff?"

Again, that shrug and slump that were neither, but...

"She's probably right, I think, but I'm not sure."

"Had you ever thought of any of it before?"

"Yes," she slowly admitted, but as if she didn't want to. I waited. "It's not right, is it?" she begged, some tears wanting to come out.

"Baby, I can't say. I was never into it much, never thought of it a lot."

Her face looked as if she was about to break out crying.

"A part of me doesn't want her to be right. It doesn't feel as if I should be finding out, that if I find she's right, that something bad will happen. I feel like crap sometimes, but I have to know. I do. Then there's my parents," she said, breaking down and sobbing.

I held her and let her cry herself out. Jeez, I'd never been with someone like this before, and frankly, I was lost as to what to say or do other than just hold on to the love of my life.

Chapter 10

She did shave, and I was glad she did for I dearly loved suckling her lips, and feeling the moist heat from those lovely lips of hers when we made love. Also, the hair may have been gone, but the skin had a quality to it that fairly drove me out of my gourd, so it was all good.

She also decided to move in right away, but to take her time moving all of her things. She was going to put what she didn't want up for sale, and what didn't sell, she was going to give away. She'd already gone past her lease time, and should have gone into another lease period, but thankfully she didn't.

As she worked on doing that, she slept with me each night, and as often as we could, we made wild and glorious love, but how could we not, for she loved parading around au natural to torture me, lightly touching me, teasing me every which way, and giving me those salacious looks as she posed to show me this or that part of her. Somehow she'd learned of my lusting over her thighs, and often posed in a way that not only showed them off, but were as if offering me what they led to. Yes, she was driving me crazy, but I was going happily.

On that first Friday that we were together, we told everyone, and more of her things were sold leaving her with very little else to move, and nothing large. They all forgave us for making eyes at each other to the exclusion of the rest of them. In fact, there were a few sniggers, but kindly so. Or I thought they were all kindly given. Maybe someone who did have a thing for her might not have meant it kindly, but nothing was ever said by anyone.

* * * *

We both went to see Charmaine the next evening. She had invited us to have sandwiches with her for a small dinner, which we did. As I looked more at Charmaine, I saw that she still had her looks as well as her figure, and I wondered at her. There were some pictures of her with others, and some with one lady in particular, and that one had a face that was very soft and sweet—it was as if she was at peace with the world.

"Charmaine," I couldn't help myself, "that lady's face is so compelling, so peaceful looking."

"Why thank you, Jennifer. That's my doll, my sweetie. She's looking after her mother for now. I'd rather she were here, but how could I say I didn't want her to go, though I didn't, I miss her so."

"That was good of you," Erin said, but left it as a question she could answer if she wished.

"Yes, I guess it was. It was let her go or let her go. Couldn't risk losing her, you know. She's my anchor, the one that keeps me from going off the edge. Her family wasn't too pleased when she informed them that she was in love with me. She married at a young age—didn't know she had a choice, or that there was anything else to choose, she said," Charmaine said with laughter.

"I take it they're okay with it now, huh?" Erin said diplomatically.

"Let's just say that they've found that there's nothing they can do about it. Thank goodness they didn't disown her as many do to others. But no matter, they still don't care to have me around, so here I am, and glad to be useful. Well, I hope I'm being useful," she prompted Erin.

"Oh, you have been. It's just me, how strong they put it all in me that's still a problem."

"It's most likely no problem, sweetie. It takes time for the conscious mind to become accepting of things, to give way to new habits, new ways of thinking. It'll come along if you keep at it. You're well on your way. Keep making the choice to look and change as you see fit, and you'll soon be just fine with yourself."

She had a good way of setting Erin, not to mention me, at ease with everything.

"I keep telling myself that, but the old habitual way of thinking, the old feelings of being disloyal, not to mention fear, come and plague me every now and then, and to be honest, it's quite discomforting."

"You know, I think I may have the answers for you if you'll read it. Have you read any of the book I let you take with you, The Bible biography, by that used to be nun?"

"Yes, mostly. She is interesting, and a good writer. Very clear in what she says."

"Yes, she is. As I said, that other girl, the one that had the classes for lesbians that was murdered, she gave lots of credit to her, as well as to many others. I have the hand outs she gave to her classes, but more, I was lucky enough to know someone that went to the new classes, and they're just like the original, but expanded. I made a copy of those hand outs—would you like to have them?"

Erin's eyes lit up. "Yes. Please, I'd like that very much, and thank you."

"Heh, you'll thank me even more after you read them, especially if you prove it all out for yourself as they suggest you do. That's something I love about them, the way that they more than suggest you prove them out. No fear of the truth in those girls."

She had them handy, and gave them to Erin who took them as if she were handling real holy scriptures that were original and just now being revealed to her before anyone else. It was as if she were afraid she would drop them.

"Jennifer, do you remember that boy when we met, and his family?" she asked out of the blue.

"Yes, a little."

"So much is still coming out about those bastards—please excuse my language, but they still make me so angry—and many often say how that there's only a few, comparatively speaking, that are pedophile priests. Statistically, that may be true if you want to see it as statistics, but they don't say it all."