Jill and Clarabydgowre©
Jill Weaver and Clara Kendall had been friends since they entered kindergarten at six years of age. They met almost as soon as their mothers dropped them off, weeping as they left their youngsters for the first time ever, and even though they lived fairly close to each other, this was the first time that they had actually met.
Both were very pretty girls of about the same height, Jill with blue eyes and curly, shoulder length, brown hair, Clara with green eyes and straight, golden-yellow hair.
Their friendship grew as they progressed through kindergarten and primary school, so by the time they entered junior high, they were as close as two people could be, close best friends, but innocently so. Of course, they shared stories and information about their changing bodies, the onset of menstruation, the growth of their breasts, the appearance of fluffy hair on their mounds, and masturbation, but no more than two good friends would be expected to share.
Unfortunately, many people are ignorant and cruel, and children and young people the most cruel of all. Their closeness was noted, it was impossible not to notice, they were always together, did everything together, and it didn't take long for snide remarks to fly, even from their own parents, 'dykes', 'queers', 'perverts', which initially hurt them tremendously, why would it not, but eventually drove them closer together, in an 'us against the world' attitude.
They finished junior high and entered high school, where they developed into truly beautiful women, with hourglass figures, both tall and willowy, each with full, firm, perfectly sized breasts, where they even dated the odd boy though neither found this to be particularly satisfying, even when they and their partners dabbled in sex. Nevertheless, their reputations were not nullified by dating boys and their relationship to each other was made stronger by the continuing abuse to which they were subjected.
So, when the time came to select a university, they decided to attend the same one, far away from their home province, where they might get a little peace. Their choice was simple, the University of Victoria, UVic, in the city of Victoria on Vancouver Island, large enough to afford them a certain amount of anonymity, small enough to be a big village.
They had both worked part-time during their high school years, so had put enough money aside to allow them to rent a house near the campus, a two bedroom bungalow on a quiet side street. It came furnished, each bedroom with one, large bed, which gave them pause initially, would they take one room each or would they share a bed, but they shrugged it off with a 'what the hell' attitude. They had been so close all these years, had even shared a bed during sleepovers, so why should now be a problem?
Beginning of term approached and they moved in a week ahead, to get their belongings installed and the house set up the way they wanted it. They would have precious little time to do anything after term started, after all. They were exhausted at the end of the first day, so tired, in fact that all they did was shower, strip, let their clothes fall to the floor, and fell into bed, where they were instantly asleep.
We woke up almost simultaneously, blinked for a few seconds until we figured out where we were and that we were sharing the same bed. We turned to face each other. "Good morning, Clara." I whispered.
"Good morning, Jill." whispered Clara. "We're here, we made it, in spite of everything, we made it. I'm so glad I have you for a best friend. Come here, I want to give my best friend a hug at the start of this new episode in our lives."
We embraced, holding each other tight, realizing that we were both naked and that we loved the feeling of skin against skin. We pulled back a little, looked at each other, tears filling our eyes, realized that something was changing, had changed, that we had become more than best friends, that our love for each other was on the point of moving to a new level.
"Clara," I sobbed, "You're my dearest, best friend, always have been, but I have to tell you something that may change the way you feel about me. I'm so sorry that I've waited to tell you this, I should have done it years ago but I was so terrified that I'd lose you. I love you, my darling Clara, I love you with all my heart and all my being, not just as a best friend, but as a beautiful, wonderful woman, have done for a lot of years, and I would simply die without you."
"You fool, Jill." whispered Clara, crying just as hard as I was. "Did you really think I wouldn't love you, didn't love you? You're the only important thing in my life, always have been but I didn't tell you for the same reason you didn't tell me, I was terrified of losing you. I don't know when my love for you changed from the love of a child for another child, but it must have been just before puberty. Oh what a pair of damn fools we've been, what a pair of absolute idiots."
"We have," I replied, still sobbing, "but it's not too late. We've found each other, and we have most of our lives ahead of us. If you let me, I'll love you with a love and a passion you can only imagine, or perhaps you can, you're a passionate and loving woman yourself. Why don't we find out just how much, Clara, why don't we find out, starting right now. I can't tell you how much I love you, you beautiful, beautiful woman, I simply don't have the words, but I can show you, I can let my hands and my lips speak for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you'll let me."
Clara didn't need to say anything, her eyes said it all. I pulled her to me, and very gently kissed her, my lips grazing Clara's, the tip of my tongue tracing her full, red lips, which parted to allow its entry, to find her tongue waiting for it, to caress it, to dance with it.
As I kissed her, I was tracing the contours of her beautiful, exciting body, just my fingertips, just grazing her soft skin, trying hard not to tickle. My heart was bursting, and I could feel the juices collecting between my legs.
I felt Clara's fingers caressing my breast, my nipple already hard. The sensations shot from the peak of my breast to the pit of my stomach, to my pussy, which was already leaking freely, I could feel the liquid on my upper thigh
Clara's breast was as l had dreamed it would be, firm, the skin tight, her areolas more puffy than mine, her nipples, her beautiful, pink nipples, as hard as diamonds, begging to be kissed. But I couldn't leave her lips, her sweet lips that I had looked at for most of my life, had dreamed of kissing for longer than I could remember. No, not yet, they were so soft, so sweet, and as much joy as I was getting from Clara's lips, Clara was obviously getting as much joy from mine.
Our breathing was getting heavier as we continued to kiss, touch and caress each other's bodies, and as much as we wanted to make love, we were flying blind, on-the-job training as it were. We were doing what we had done, rarely, with boys, never with another woman, plus we knew what we liked, we both knew that we had been masturbating from an early age, had discussed it often enough, but never done it with one another.
I trailed my fingers down Clara's chest, her stomach, to find and revel in a smooth, shaved mound. I had only ever seen it in the school showers and during sleepovers, obviously before Clara had started shaving. It was a pleasant surprise, but I hoped that Clara would not be disappointed in me, because I didn't shave. I trimmed my brown hair, yes, kept my lips clean of hair, but my mound was not smooth and soft, as was Clara's.
I needn't have worried. She found my mound, I felt her fingers investigating my hair, felt her moan into my mouth, a moan of happiness I hoped. But something was wrong, and suddenly I knew what it was. I drew back from my love and whispered "My dear, dear Clara, I'm sorry to stop, but may I turn the lights on? I want so badly to see you while I love you. For my very first time I want to see the woman I love, watch her, see what she likes, what she doesn't like, so that I'll be able to love her in the best way I possibly can, because that's what she deserves, she is so special to me."
"Of course, my darling, I want to see you, watch you, just as much as you want to see me. I only hope I can be as good for you as you deserve. I've never made love to a woman before, hey, you know that already, and I'm so afraid that I'm not going to be able to please you."
I put a finger on Clara's lips. "Clara, my love, there's no way you couldn't please me, my dear friend, I'll love anything you do. I'm just as worried about being able to please you, dearest, but if I don't get it right the first time, just bear with me, because I will, because you are the most wonderful person I know and my life's work will be to please you.
We collapsed into each other's arms, tears pouring down our faces, but tears of happiness now, not tears of fear, or uncertainty, or questioning, or doubt.
We pulled apart, each turning on the bedside light at either side of the bed, bathing us in a warm, comforting glow.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Clara." I whispered, stroking her long, golden-blonde hair, watching the light glint from her incredible green eyes. "You've no idea how lucky I am that you would actually love me, that you would want to be with me."
I knelt beside my Clara, and as I spoke, I stroked her face, her cheeks, her warm lips. her throat, the firmness but softness of her full breasts, standing high and proud on her chest, her pink nipples hard against my fingers. How much better was it to see her beauty, see what I was touching. Her stomach was soft, smooth, as was her mound, which split into two swollen lips, between which the winglike folds of her soft and fragile inner lips were extending, attracting my fingers. I had to touch them. They were so soft, so wet, as I was sure mine were. I slipped a finger between them, searching, until I felt her flesh give, and my finger vanished inside her. Clara moaned, whimpered, as my finger filled the tightness of her sweet, wet sheath, tightening her muscles, gripping my finger.
"Oh! Jill! You're killing me with pleasure! Don't stop! Don't ever stop! I can't believe how it feels! Oh my darling, your finger feels so wonderful. Oh my God, another finger! Oh, oh, oh."
As she spoke, she reached across my thigh and began to caress the softness and wetness of my pussy, causing streaks of sensation to pour into my lower stomach and into my hungry sheath.
As well as the two fingers that I had inserted into my lover's sheath, my thumb had found the hood of her clitoris and the clitoris itself that was a hard little button beneath it. I began to rub, not fast, not slow, the same speed at which I was sliding my fingers in and out of my love. By now, she was doing the same to me and I knew, I knew absolutely, the feelings that were pouring through her as they were pouring through me.
It was magnificent. Masturbation was never like this. I was sharing my love with the woman I loved and adored absolutely, and she was doing the same to me. What greater joy could there be than this!
Quickly, much more quickly than we would have liked, we climaxed simultaneously, to loud screams of unalloyed joy, and sprays of cum onto our still moving fingers.
I collapsed onto my love, we embraced, panting, breathing hard, gasping for breath, in fact. "Oh how I love you, Clara! I think I knew from the first day we met that you were going to be someone very special in my life. I want to tell the whole world what you mean to me, but will only do that if you're willing, my darling. I'm ready, more than ready, to come out of the closet and tell the world yes, I am a lesbian, and I love and adore my Clara to absolute distraction."
"Jill, we've been accused of it for as long as we can remember, so whatever people think of us, I too, want people to know that I love you, and that I always will love you. Yes, my darling we're a couple, and now that we know this, everyone else should know it too, whatever they say, whatever they feel. I love you, my darling Jill. It's as simple, and as complicated, as that. Now, will you stop talking and come and kiss your new lover, your new partner, before I start thinking you really don't love me at all!"
I did. We kissed, we reveled in the feeling of body against body, of breast against breast, of lips against lips. We kissed until we knew that we had to explore more, that we wanted to, had to, express our love physically.
"Clara, I'm going to lie on my back. Lie on top of me, but reversed, so that my face is in your pussy, your face in mine. Is that alright with you?"
Clara said nothing, but did as I asked, and within moments I was staring at a very wet, very beautiful pussy, directly above my face, the first pussy I had ever seen this close up, and I could not believe that any other pussy could be this beautiful.
I just stared at it for a while, wondered at the wetness, the pinkness, the beauty of the soft folds of the inner lips. I looked until I had to do more, extended my tongue and touched the soft lips, which made Clara leap and to emit a little scream.I grasped her hips and pulled her down, until my nose and mouth were buried in the softness and the wetness, my tongue roving through the folds, finding her clitoris rubbing it.
I became very aware of her mouth and tongue between my legs, driving me absolutely wild with the sensations that were pouring from her ministrations. Oh how I hoped that she was feeling what I was feeling.
Pressure built in both of us, until we once again exploded in huge orgasms, cum spraying our faces.
Clara spun round, collapsed into my arms, looked at me and giggled. "You look funny, Jill."
"No funnier than you look, I'm sure." I giggled too. I licked her face. "You taste good, or rather, I taste good, but you taste better."
"No I don't, you taste better!" Clara insisted, a big grin on her smeared face.
"Honey," I said, seriously now, "do you realize that we have this to look forward to for the rest of our lives? Does the thought please you as much as it pleases me?"
"Yes, my darling, even when we're old and gray we'll still be in love with each other. The sex will no doubt be quieter, but it's you I love, and always will."
And this was how the two exhausted girls fell asleep in each other's arms. Happy, euphoric, one might say, realizing that from now on it was them against the world, but relishing the idea. After all, hadn't it been like that for most of their lives?
The week that we spent before term started was idyllic in the extreme, as our happiness was greater than we had experienced in our lives. While we were in the house, we didn't bother to dress, because the magic of loving sex was strong, and was not to be denied. We were on a journey of discovery, and as we passed each other, we would stop, touch, in wonder, at the beauty of our bodies, at the passion that was ever present, not only with a touch, but with a look, a passion that was was always satisfied immediately, with tears of joy, with screams of happy release. When we stopped to wonder what our neighbours must think, we invariably collapsed in fits of giggles. We hadn't met our neighbours on either side yet, but realized that we would have to do so pretty soon, if only to hold out an olive branch, as it were, to assure them that we were not axe murderers!
So it was that in the late afternoon of the third day we dressed in quiet outfits and knocked on the door of the house on our right. The door was opened by a young woman, a man, obviously her husband, peering over her shoulder.
"Hello. My name's Jill Weaver. I said brightly. "This is my partner, Clara Kendall, and we've rented the house next door for the university year. We just wanted to come and say hello."
"Are you the girls who have been kicking up all that noise? And you're partners?" rasped the man, aggressively. "We don't hold with any of that nonsense around here, it's against all the natural laws. We don't need more of you. You keep yourselves to yourselves and be a lot quieter, or I'll have the law on you. We've got young children here, don't forget that." and slammed the door loudly
We looked at each other, dismayed. Our story of being subjected to ignorance and cruelty was being repeated already, and we had only met one set of neighbours.
We dragged ourselves, unhappily, to the house to the left of ours, and again knocked on the door. It was opened by an older, middle-aged lady, with an attractive face and greying, blonde hair, dressed in a pale blue twinset that did nothing to hide two very large breasts, and a dark blue skirt that ended just above the knee, who looked at us over her glasses, with an expression that appeared to be unfriendly in the extreme.
"Hello." I said, as brightly as I could. "I'm Jill Weaver, this is Clara Kendall. We've rented the house next door for the university year and just wanted to come and introduce ourselves."
The older lady's face cleared and a smile broke over her face. "Welcome, dears, it's so nice to meet you. I knew a couple of girls had moved in, and I'd heard a bit of noise, but it's delightful that you've taken the trouble to come and introduce yourselves. Come on in and have a cup of tea."
We were ushered into a very comfortable and very feminine sitting room and sat on a plush sofa across from a recliner at the fireside that was obviously our host's 'throne'.
"Can we help with the tea?" asked Clara.
"No, my dears, you just sit there and relax. I'm a bit nosy and noticed that you just came from Fred Dole's house, looking a bit down. Don't let him worry you. He's a one hundred percent, gold-plated bastard, who could be the poster boy for small minded. Just ignore him. His wife, Mary, is not at all like that, but he rules her with an iron fist. I feel so sorry for her and try to help her where I can, but I think he's got eyes in the back of his head and resents the hell out of me. On top of that, he hates my guts. Now, you just relax, and I'll be right back."
Clara and I looked at each other in wonder. What a total contrast to our first encounter. Maybe things weren't quite as bad as we'd thought.
Our hostess returned, carrying a tray, which she placed on the coffee table between us. We helped ourselves to our tea, and settled back into our chairs.
"So, my dears, I'm Helen, Helen Andrews. I told you I'm nosy, so tell me all about yourselves as I've been longing to meet you since I saw you moving in."
We did. We told her absolutely all about ourselves, how we had been close friends since we had entered kindergarten together, been best friends for most of our lives until the last few days, when we had suddenly realized that we were totally and irrevocably in love. As we told her this, we looked lovingly at each other and held each other close.
"Oh my darlings!" exclaimed Helen, a huge smile on her face. "How absolutely precious! I'm so very, very happy for you both, and I hope you have wonderful, wonderful lives. Oh, you're so beautiful, the two of you, you make a lovely couple. I might as well tell you this, if I don't, Fred Dole will, but I'm lesbian too, lived here with my partner, Ann, for twenty years. She passed away five years ago, but we were so much in love from the moment we met."
As she told us this, tears began to trickle down her cheeks at the memory of her love, and what had been.
I disengaged from my sweetheart, jumped up from the sofa, fell to my knees beside Helen's chair and took her into my arms, stroking her hair, comforting her. Clara joined me, and we both comforted Helen as she sobbed in our arms.
"Helen," I gasped, sobbing myself by now, as was Clara, "We're only next door. We want you, and I know I speak for Clara as well, to come and visit us whenever you feel like it. Our door will always be open to you. If you happen to hear funny noises, just wait a bit and try again." This caused the three of us to giggle loudly, we all knew exactly what I was talking about! "Why don't you come and have supper with us, Helen?" I suggested. "It won't be terribly exciting, just corned beef hash, but we'd love to have you, isn't that right, Clara? You can tell us all about yourself. We seem to have done most of the talking so far."