Nicole - The Truth at Last Ch. 01

"Uh, Marguerite, how much are these shoes?" I asked, afraid to hear the price.

"Buy the stockings, and I'll throw the shoes in for free." She answered, smiling.

I was dumbfounded. I thought she might give me the stockings if I bought the shoes, but not the other way around!

Marguerite laughed at the look on my face. "You don't know how pleased I am that Vanessa brought you by. I know you're both college students and probably don't have a lot to spend. The shoes are my gift. The stockings, yes, I sell them, and buying them will make you a customer. The shoes are really not my main business, just sort of a sideline. Consider them a form of advertising.

"But, if you decide you want some of the other designs, please let me know. I can order them, and I will give you a fair price."

Well that certainly "sold" me. I ended up buying several more pairs of the thigh-highs and a pale cream bustier top, so I really was a customer. But the heels...wow!

When Jeannie and I finally took our leave from Marguerite, she gave us both a hug and a kiss on each cheek. She had invited us to have dinner with her, but I knew my mother was expecting us at home and so begged off. I was beginning to wonder exactly what her relationship with Jeannie really was, since it seemed to extend beyond vendor/customer somehow.

However, next stop was my house. I had warned my mother what to expect, because that was a standing instruction from her. She was very organized and didn't much like surprises. I don't know what Jeannie expected, but when we drove up into the immaculate driveway of my mother's small house, she looked around, obviously impressed.

My mother wasn't well-to-do in the classic sense, but she had good business sense and had made the most of her opportunities in the ten years since she threw my father out.

I had told Jeannie I had lived the abusive scene, and I had. My mother had put up with my father's beatings for years, until at age fifteen, my older brother Antoine had told her if she didn't do something, he would. I was only twelve then. That got her moving, and she filed a complaint and then got a restraining order and a divorce -- and counseling.

After he graduated from high school and was confident my mother was on the right track, Antoine joined the Army. He came back often to visit, but he seemed to be well on his way to a successful career.

My mother met us in the driveway and gave Jeannie a warm hug. "I hope you two are hungry, because I've got a feed planned. Come on in!"

Jeannie seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to my mother, as they shared an interest in cooking that I had never really "caught." Jeannie had a good sense of humor and was able to tell her some tales of college life that got us all laughing. The evening went quickly; my mother liked a glass of wine after dinner and she offered some to Jeannie (and even, surprisingly, to me).

My mother was a big fan of The Cosby Show, so she asked Jeannie if she would mind if we watched. It turned out Jeannie's family watched it too, so Jeannie knew all the characters and we all laughed at the various situations in the show.

Later, we headed to my room. Mother had made up an inflatable bed on the floor and Jeannie insisted on taking that one for herself. We got ready for bed and then Jeannie made a strange request. She asked if I had a new razor she could use in the morning, as she had forgotten to bring one. I told her I wasn't sure I had a new one but she was welcome to use mine.

She hesitated and said she'd really like a new one. I was a little bit hurt -- was she implying that a razor I had used wasn't very clean or something?

I guess my reaction was kind of obvious. She blushed to her roots. What a shade of red a blonde white girl could turn!

"Nicole, I'm really sorry to be so particular, but I never even use my own leg razor for uh, this."

Suddenly understanding dawned. "You're talking about shaving, umm, down there, right?"

She nodded. "It's an extra-sensitive area, and even using a razor once on your legs dulls it to the point you don't want to use it there, trust me. And it's recommended that you simply not use a razor anywhere else and then use it down there, because of the possibility of infection. It's a delicate area -- but I'm not telling you anything you don't know!"

"Do you have to do that every day?" I queried.

She nodded her head. "I normally shave there in the morning. I can let it go a day or two, if I'm not going to see Jack, but more than that it itches too much. I'm hoping to find a more permanent solution pretty soon. Marguerite says..." and she cut herself off.

I looked at her curiously. "What does Marguerite say, Vanessa?" I emphasized the final word a bit.

Her head jerked up suddenly. "Why did you call me that?"

I smiled at her, sure I was on the right track now. "I think Vanessa is more than a pet name. I think it has something to do with the relationship you and Jack have. And I think Marguerite knows about it. Am I right?"

She smiled. "You are too sharp! 'Vanessa' is the name Jack uses when he wants to emphasize my submissive nature. It's like a code word. He used it once in front of Marguerite, when we went there the first time to buy lingerie. And as you saw, Marguerite is no dummy. She actually gave Jack a note, that first visit, that kind of hinted she knew what we were about, and offering her services to help.

"We went back to see her about other kinds of clothing. That's when I got the black 'killer' heels you saw. And to talk to her about our relationship." She blushed again. "She invited us to dinner, much like she did today," Jeannie looked at me with a sly smile, "and then invited us to stay the night. And we did."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you stayed the night? What was that like?"

She looked directly into my eyes. "I found out I enjoy making love with another woman. Perhaps I'm bisexual. And I found out I'm not jealous when Jack is with another woman. He is who he is and I am who -- and what -- I am. His plaything. And Nicole," she looked at me intensely, "I love it. God help me, but I do love it."

So I hadn't imagined the "lez be friends" look I thought she gave me that night in the dorm room. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Right here in my room!

Just at that moment, I heard my mother call out. "You girls get to bed, now, you may not be getting up for church tomorrow, but I am!"

We giggled a little and started to get into our beds. Then I remembered what had started the whole conversation. I got up and leaned over the inflatable bed where Jeannie lay.

"Tomorrow morning, after my mother leaves, I'll get a new razor for you, OK?"

"Oh thank you so much, Nicole, I really appreciate it!" She sat up and impulsively kissed me, again, right on the lips!

Only this time, I surprised myself by kissing her back. Her mouth opened as if she had been waiting for the moment, and her tongue pushed its way between my answering lips. She put her arms around me and pulled me down on to the inflatable bed on top of her. We floundered around on the bouncing mattress for a moment, trying to regain our balance, and both of us ended up laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

Once the heaving sea of the mattress finally calmed down, I lay there, just looking into her wide blue eyes from inches away, not saying anything. She reached over and gently brushed the curls away from my face. I closed my eyes and kissed her hand.

Just at that moment there came a loud knocking at the door. My mother's voice said, "Are you girls alright in there? I thought I heard someone fall!"

If you can imagine a submarine-launched ballistic missile with curly hair erupting from the surface of the ocean, that would have been me jumping out of Jeannie's bed. Only faster.

"No, mother, I just tripped on the air bed coming back from the bathroom. Everybody's fine!"

"OK, then, you girls go to sleep now, you hear?"

"Yes, mother."

"Yes, Mrs. [my mother's last name]."

We both giggled at the near miss. I think we both decided that this was not the time, and DEFINITELY not the place.

I don't know what she dreamed about that night, but I dreamed about her blonde hair, her creamy skin, and those soft lips. What would tomorrow bring?

******

The next morning, as promised, I went in hunt for a new razor after my mother left for church. We had said goodbye to her in our night clothes, since we had planned to be on our way before she came home.

I found a new pack of disposables, and took it up to Jeannie.

"Last night, you said Marguerite had something to say about shaving. Don't tell me she...?"

Jeannie smiled wickedly. "She most certainly does."

"Oh my!" I said, and we both laughed.

"However, hers is permanent. She used a process called electrolysis, which requires a number of sessions. She told me she had a clinic that she would recommend, but I think I'd like to find one a little closer if I go that route. There is also a newer process, called laser hair removal, but I don't know much about that yet."

So, I got to watch the process Jeannie used. It was pretty fascinating, and, as I knew already, the results were, well, sexy as hell.

"Do you want to try?" She offered.

I had been thinking about it while watching her do hers. And it did look sexy as hell. Siller would love it...

"OK. I'll give it a try. How do I get started?"

"First, trim as much as you can with a pair of scissors. That helps keep your razor from clogging and makes it a lot easier to see what you are doing. Then, get in the shower and wash the area with a gentle soap. You want to be as clean as possible. Then, you need a fresh razor. Apply some shaving gel, and shave downward with the hair, that is, in the direction it's growing. Use really small strokes, taking it very slow and carefully, while holding your skin taut with the other hand. That helps protect against little nicks. Afterwards, I recommend some 1% hydrocortisone cream to soothe the area. Aloe vera gel is also good."

Under her tutelage I was "bare down there" in about thirty minutes.

"Wow! That feels weird. But I think it looks pretty good."

"Are you kidding? It looks super-hot! You have the most beautiful skin, and you did a great job. I kind of had to figure it out on my own, but of course mine was already done for me the first time."

"Already done for you? What are you talking about?"

She laughed. "Oh I didn't tell you the whole story of the night Rick and Jack 'kidnapped' me. DeeDee shaved me while I was tied down."

Wow. I was just learning too much crazy shit. I didn't know how to react -- but Jeannie seemed to have taken it in stride.

We started to pull together clothes for our trip back to my apartment, where Jeannie had left her car. She had come up to see Jack briefly before we started on our girl's trip. Jack had a big project due the following week and needed to concentrate on getting that together so things had worked out well for us.

"I've got an idea. Why don't you wear the stockings and heels you got from Visions? That way I can see the final result and you can try them out -- where you don't have much walking to do."

"I'd like to do that, but I'm not sure about driving in those heels."

"I'll drive then. Your car's an automatic like my Chevy II so pretty easy. I'll wear some of my tall heels too, I'm a little more used to them."

That seemed like a good solution, so I agreed. I wasn't sure what Jeannie was getting at, but I was kind of turned on by the suggestion.

So that's how I ended up, not in jeans and a sweatshirt, my usual form of dress, but in a red cotton blouse, my new bustier, bright green pleated skirt, thigh-highs, and the incredible five-inch patent pumps. I don't know why I left my panties off, I guess because, with my new bareness, I just liked the feeling. I also knew Jeannie wasn't wearing them. Maybe that's what made her exude sex all the time? I didn't know, but I liked it!

Jeannie dressed like I usually saw her; some variation on a white or creme-colored blouse, a (usually) dark-colored pencil skirt that stopped well above the knees, stockings, and heels. Today she was white and black; crisp white cotton blouse, black skirt. I could tell again she was wearing something that didn't cover her nipples, and I had watched her attach the taupe stockings to her garter belt.

She told me she wasn't actually "required" to dress like that all the time, but she liked the feel and had gotten really used to being "available." For shoes, she had chosen some black ankle-strap sandals with a low platform and five-inch heels.

We didn't look like we were driving back to school, we looked like we were getting ready to go partying! And frankly, given the shaving, no-panties, stockings and heels, we were both dressed about as hot as anything I could imagine, right at that moment. We both looked fucking amazing!

We both walked carefully in our killer heels to my old Chevy Nova, loaded the rest of our stuff in the trunk, and then I helped Jeannie adjust the bench seat. We belted ourselves in and headed out for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to my apartment at school.

We chattered and talked about this and that as we drove up the road, every once and a while each of us stealing a glance at the other way-too-sexy bitch in the car.

After awhile the chatter died down and I leaned my head back a little and closed my eyes. Before very long, I felt a touch on my leg and opened my eyes to see Jeannie's pale hand with its long pink fingernails lying on my leg just above the knee. I looked over at her and she glanced my way for a moment. I reached down with my darker hand and moved her hand gently upward along my leg until it was past the band of the thigh-high stockings I had on.

I leaned my head back again and closed my eyes, trying not to tense up as I awaited what I suspected (and hoped!) would come next. She didn't disappoint me. Her hand disappeared up under my skirt and began to insinuate itself between the freshly-shaved (and naked) lips of my pouting puss. She didn't do much else for a moment, just rested her fingers there.

Pretty soon, I couldn't stand the wait any longer, and I began to move against her fingers. My breath was coming faster, and getting a little ragged.

Then I looked over at her and thought, two can play this game! I unbuckled my seat belt and slid across the seat to be next to her, refastening the lap belt in the middle. She gave me a quick glance as I reached over and placed my hand on her nylon-covered leg. I knew how good it felt to slide my hand over my own stockings -- I had no fucking idea how sexy it would feel to rub my hand over the nylon heated by her skin! I reeled myself back in, though, leaving that for later. I reached up and began unbuttoning her blouse. When I had it open almost to her waist, I pulled it out a little and saw what she was wearing underneath. She had on a beautiful white push-up bra that had open cups -- so her small, perfect breasts were lifted and enhanced but left exposed. Wow! Super-hot!

I began to cup and fondle those pretty white boobs with my right hand, running my thumb over each of the pink nipples in turn and watching them get stiff. By moving over, I had cramped her style a little with her exploring hand, pushing it way up in my pussy. She was moving it slightly, but just the feeling of it in there was heating me up.

Suddenly she took an exit off the highway and pulled into a rest area, parking as far away from other cars as she could get. She released her seat belt, turned towards me and looked at me with a grin on her face.

"Have you ever heard the expression, 'Get a room?'"

And then she promptly kissed me, hard, as we fell over onto the seat.

We didn't come up for air for at least a full minute, both of us too busy fondling whatever we could reach and swapping spit like teenagers at a drive-in.

Finally, breathing hard, I broke our lip-lock and said, "OK, this is 1985 and all, but it's also still deep in the heart of Dixie -- and the bible belt. We are just about a half-hour from my apartment. Do you think we can keep our pants on that long?"

Then we both laughed, remembering that neither of us had pants on.

So for the next thirty or so minutes, we sat, primly, saying nothing, with Jeannie seemingly intensely focused on the drive and me trying to ignore the wetness between my legs.

Finally, it seemed more like thirty years than thirty minutes later, we arrived at my apartment.

We both carefully walked to the door, I unlocked it and we went in. I re-locked the door behind us and...well, what to do next? Sit down in the living room? Run for the bed? Start making out while just standing there? I finally decided the last choice would work, as I couldn't keep my hands off of her any longer.

But we were able to slow down a bit. There was no rush, now, no one to disturb us. Vanessa (why did I suddenly think of her as Vanessa?) had left her blouse undone. She was standing in front of me, passive now. I put my left hand behind her neck and drew her to me, tilting her head, kissing her lightly on the lips, then with more urgency as her lips opened and accepted my questing tongue.

I reached down with my other hand and finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it free of the skirt, then I pushed it off of her shoulders. I slid the hand behind her neck down inside the back of her blouse to help clear it off of her arms, letting it fall to the floor. I unbuttoned and unzipped the back of her skirt and let it slide down her legs. I drew her towards me again and, without resistance, she stepped delicately out of the two pieces of clothing now discarded, unwanted anymore, where they lay on the floor.

No more undressing was required. I could see that Vanessa, in accordance with Jack's rules, was available for sex without further effort. Even though Jack was nowhere around, she was still available. The open-cup bra lifted and displayed her pale breasts, it didn't hide or protect them. The garter belt and stockings, and indeed the heels, served only to frame, tighten, and display her shapely legs, rounded ass, and bare mons.

She stood quietly before me. I was struck by that, that even without the immediate presence of Jack, her...Master? she seemed poised to obey. Well, she was submissive, by her own description.

I resumed my exploration of her mouth with my tongue, drawing her closer to me. Her arms went around me and began to work at removing my garments. The red blouse came over my head and the green skirt, unbuttoned and unzipped, fell to the floor as well. Her hands found the clasps of my bustier and suddenly I felt it loosen, hanging from my shoulders. A quick shrug or two and it also found its way to the pile of discarded garments on the floor.

This was Vanessa's first real view of my breasts; she broke the kiss for a moment to look down at them. Her hands came from around my back to cup the fleshy protrusions and she placed her thumbs on the dark brown nipples, already hardening under her eyes and touch. She lowered her face to them and gently suckled on each one, drawing its stiffness into her lips and drawing a moan from mine.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt her hands return to my back and travel down my sides onto my buttocks. She had dropped to her knees in front of me, pulling me towards her mouth with her hands cupping my ass cheeks. She squeezed and pulled on them, opening my lower lips to her tongue. The angle wasn't really quite right, but I somehow sensed that wasn't as important as her need to assume this submissive posture in front of me.