Our Neighbor's a Porn Star!

To Barb's raised eyebrows, she explained. "A good-looking woman has a limited shelf life. Kind of like a tomato. At first, you're fresh and new, so you get cast as a horny young teenager. Cheerleader, naughty schoolgirl, things like that.

"Then, after you've matured a bit, and if you're good enough and attractive enough, you get the starring roles. You can get the lead in what passes for feature films in the porn business. High-class, with plots and decent scripts and even some special effects. Like The Changing. Or some of the stuff that Vivian Thompson does, or WomansWay Video.

"You might get three years of that. Or five. Or maybe even ten. But sooner or later it all ends. Your looks start to go. And your tits and your legs and everything else. And no one's interested in seeing you after you've done dozens of films and there's nothing new for you to do anymore. So you get smaller roles. Or older ones. The MILF. The horny stepmother. The schoolteacher. The repressed housewife."

She shuddered. "Eventually, there's nothing but scraps. The grandmother or the mother superior at the convent. And then you're thrown out like a week-old newspaper.

"God, I'm lucky I met Jake. I owe him so much. I don't know why he took a shine to me. Maybe he was feeling paternal. He never had any kids of his own. Anyway, he helped put me through night school in between shoots. I got a business degree from UC-Davis, even though I kept on filming. And once I became a star, he even let me renegotiate my contract so I was getting a cut of the royalties rather than a flat fee. That helped me earn out to the point where I could retire and move out here. Where I'll never have to fuck someone I don't want to."

"Did he..."

"No." She smiled. "Oh, I would have, no doubt. He wasn't really my type, but I would have done it through sheer gratitude. But he never made a move on me. He was kind of old-fashioned that way, if you can say such a thing about a guy who filmed people having sex to sell on a pay-per-minute basis on the internet.

"Anyway, he helped me out. With his help, I became an adult-film star, made some decent money, and when I felt I had enough to retire on, I pulled the plug.

"Which answers, the long way around, your question, maybe. If my parents had trusted me the way you trust Nate, none of this would have happened. Maybe I wouldn't have pushed back so hard. Maybe I would have stayed in New Hampshire. I sure as hell wouldn't have moved to South Dakota to run away from my porn-star past." She swallowed the rest of her wine and set the glass down on the coffee table.

Silence hung in the room for a long moment. "Well, it might sound selfish," Heather said, "but I'm glad you're in our lives. Nate's and mine both. I can't remember if I've ever heard him as worried about someone the way he was for you the other night. And it's always good to make a new friend. You can never have too many. I think you must be very strong to have come as far as you have. Not many women are retired before they're thirty, no matter what industry they're in."

Heather smiled noncommittally, wondering if Barb would have the same high opinion of her if she knew she and Nate were sexing each other up. But that thought led her to the lingerie she had bought, and she rose to her feet. "Come on. Enough moping around out here. I want to see what you bought at the store.."

"It's still out in the car," Barb protested.

"No, it's not," she replied, lifting the bag so her friend could see. "I brought it in with my stuff. Come on, sweetie," she wheedled, seeing the hesitation on her face. "If you try on yours, I'll try on mine."

"That's hardly fair," Barb said with a sad laugh. "You're so damn good-looking it's ridiculous. But I'm-"

"So damn good looking it's also ridiculous," Heather interrupted firmly. "Don't sell yourself short, girlfriend. You're fine and you know it. Why so shy? There's no one here but us girls.

"Come on," she repeated, pulling her down the hallway to her bedroom. "You can dress in the bathroom if you don't feel like getting bare-assed in front of me."

*****

This is crazy.

Barb looked at herself in the mirror, hardly able to recognize the woman in the reflection. She was naked but for two wisps of lace. The first was a bra, but to call the garment that was to completely misstate its utter decadence. The straps barely lived up to their name, and the cups were all but transparent, filmy red gauze that left little to the imagination. Below, a pair of panties caressed her cleft, cut high on her hips, accentuating the narrowness of her waist. The triangle of cloth barely covered her labia, and in the rear, a narrow band dove deep into the cleft of her buttocks, serving only to entice and excite.

It's not too late, she thought, looking at her pile of discarded clothes on the floor. You can put those back on, tell Heather it was all a mistake, and go home. She'll respect your decision. She won't force you to do something you're not comfortable with. Hell, maybe you can even return these things to the store and get your money back.

Instead, she opened the door, walking out unsteadily. Throughout the evening, she had tried to deny to herself the purpose of her shopping trip with Heather. But now she had to face the truth. She wanted the blond-haired, sweet-faced woman, with her sharp, acid tongue belying the gentle soul beneath. She brought to mind an angel on a Friday night, tired of being good all week and ready for a little sin.

Oh.

As Heather turned around to face her, Barb's brain melted into a puddle of lust.

She was dressed all in white, but there the facade of innocence ended. Her legs were clad in white silk stockings, running from her dainty feet to her trim thighs. There, thin straps connected them to a lace garter belt. Her face flamed as she realized Heather was not wearing any panties. Instead, the naked lips of her pussy glinted cheerfully at her. Above the belt, her waist narrowed, then fanned into the lovely span of her ribcage. As her eyes were drawn inexorably upward, she blushed again, for while Heather was wearing a white lace bra, it was cupless, and the slender band of cloth around her chest only served to support and accentuate her spectacular breasts with their wonderfully full, thick nipples.

She realized she was staring, and somehow tore her eyes away. "I'm sorry," she stammered, her skin feeling as if it were on fire.

"Why?" Heather asked, her voice warm. "I have to say, sweetheart, you look good enough to eat. Such a wonderful crimson!" She stepped forward and fingered a bra strap. "I could never wear something like that. But you have the right coloring for it."

"Me?" Barb's laugh was disbelieving. "Are you kidding? Look at you. I feel like a big fat cow just being in the same room. Your body..." she swallowed around the lump of longing in her throat. "You're gorgeous."

Heather shrugged. "I don't know. Don't you think it's weird, to be complimented on your good looks? I mean, it's not as if I worked for it. It's just a happy accident of genetics.

"Now, staying in shape, I will take credit for. My parents signed me up for gymnastics classes when I was just a little girl, and I've been careful to stay in shape ever since. Watch this." As Barb looked, wide-eyed, Heather jumped onto the huge bed that dominated one corner of the room. She stood on the edge, then slowly, her legs spread, lowering her body until one white-clad foot was touching the headboard, and its opposite number was at the other end of the mattress. Her torso bent forward, until her chest lay flat on the bed. From her view behind her, Barb could see Heather's nether-lips, wantonly peeking up at her. As she watched, entranced, Heather turned her head, her dark blue eyes looking up at her seductively. Her hips rocked, slowly pushing her mound into the bed-clothes, then easing away. The sweet, taut cheeks of her buttocks formed a wonderful pair of hills, the cleft of her ass a valley she wanted to explore.

"Miss McCormick." Her voice was unsteady. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes." An unidentifiable emotion threaded through Heather's voice. Her hips canted upwards, making her rear lift off the bed. Looking at the array of golden flesh, framed in white silk and lace, Barb felt her mouth go dry. And as if to counteract the dryness above, her core was growing decidedly wet. She closed her eyes, fighting for control as another burst of heat exploded in her loins, making her nether lips wet and slippery. She didn't dare to look down, aware that there would be a revealing dark spot on the front of her panties.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered.

With an impossibly graceful move, Heather drew her legs together and rolled over on the bed, coming to rest on her side. She propped her head on one hand and looked at her with friendly, cheerful lust. "No one does, the first time. I certainly didn't. And I bet you didn't either, the first time you were with a man."

The memory of her first fumbling encounter, upstairs at a New Year's party while her parents were getting sloshed downstairs, made her smile.

"So come here," Heather commanded. "And let me love you."

Shakily, she nodded her head. Once, then again. Taking a deep breath, she forced her fearful feet to move forward.

It's not so terrible. Thousands of women do this every day. Tens of thousands. And how many of them wish they were you right now, Barbara? One of the loveliest women on earth is here to teach you about how to make a woman happy. And she wants you.

She lay down on the bed, mimicking Heather's pose, so that they lay on their sides, facing each other. Heather raised a hand trailed it down from her shoulder, her touch raising goosebumps. Despite her fears, she felt her body warming eagerly. Heather's hand reached her hip and lingered there, her fingers idly toying with the wisp of silk which kept her panties from falling off altogether.

"You are beautiful." Her voice made her jerk her eyes up to Heather's face. Her hand wandered up her back until it reached her neck. "I love your hair. So dark and thick. And your skin is like cream." She leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, then moved lower, tasting the skin of her collarbone. With a gentle nudge, she pushed her until she was lying on her back. Her breasts hovered close, their uncovered tips hanging over her. Hesitantly, she raised her own hands, brushing the lace cloth of Heather's garter belt, then rising upward, her fingers trailing over the golden skin of her sides. She reached her bra, and stopped, uncertain of how to go forward.

Or even if she should.

"Here." Heather's voice was kind. She reached behind her, unclasped the bra, and tossed it away. "Do you want to kiss them?"

"Yes."

"Then do. They want to be kissed, darling. By you."

Braced on her elbows, Heather lowered herself until her golden orbs were hanging, just out of reach of her mouth. Closing her eyes, Barb risked a closed-mouth peck, feeling the warm skin give slightly against her lips.

Heather hissed in frustration. "I'm not your grandmother, Barbara. And if you're going to kiss me, kiss me like you mean it. Or go back home and stop wasting my time! I want you, but I'm not going to put up with that sort of nonsense. I want a lover, not a scared teenage girl!"

Stung by her tone, Barb looked up. Heather's brows were pinched in an angry frown. But behind that she could see her fear. The fear of rejection, that despite all the attention she had received from lonely, horny men, she was no longer attractive,

Only one way to deal with that.

Casting aside fear and doubt and hesitation, she gripped Heather's waist firmly, raised her head, opened her mouth, and latched onto her left nipple as if she were starving and it alone had the nourishment that could save her. Suckling hard, she gave into her innermost fantasies, lashing the erect bud with her tongue.

"Yes, God, that's the way to do it." Heather's breath was hot in her ear, and her tongue licked her earlobe, making her gasp around the flesh of her breast. Even as she switched to the other side, she felt Heather's hand slide down her belly and dive under the waistband of her panties. Knowing without asking what her lover intended, she spread her legs eagerly.

Her touch was magic, and she was so wet the invading fingers parted her folds easily, sliding into her sheath almost without effort. She threw her head back and moaned, Heather's breast escaping her mouth, as her long, clever fingers pumped into her. At the same time, she became aware of her thumb, circling her throbbing clit, tormenting her with its presence, but never actually touching her most sensitive part.

Through the haze of lust which had descended over her mind, she still had enough presence to smile up at her friend. "You're teasing me, you little tart."

"Would I do that?" She played the part of injured innocence well, feigning a sad little pout, but her fingers did not stop their exquisite torment of her channel.

"Yes." She kissed her, her mouth tasting a woman's lips for the very first time. She moaned into Heather's mouth as those same lips parted, their tongues playing with each other. As they did, she spread her legs and humped her hips up into her hand. "My clit needs it, babe. Do something, but don't do nothing!"

"Mmmm." Her dark blue eyes shone wickedly. "Well, since you asked so nicely." She trailed off and lowered her head, her free hand pulling down the lace cups of her bra. As her breasts sprang free, she dropped tender kisses around a straining nipple. Becoming unstrung with frantic want, Barb grabbed Heather by the back of her head, all but forcing her to suckle her burning bud. At the very instant she did so, Heather's thumb, impossibly accurate, came down on her throbbing clit.

Barb's brain blew up. She writhed on the bed, unable to believe such incredible pleasure was possible. Heather's fingers in her cleft, curling upwards, stroking her inner walls; her mouth on her breasts, sucking and licking her aching nipples; her thumb, so clever and wise, urging her towards orgasmic release.

She became aware that she was holding Heather's head to her chest, her hips snapping upward in time to her pumping hand, screaming a babble of nonsense-words at the ceiling. She could also feel something strange on her leg. She realized it was Heather's stocking-clad thighs rubbing against her. The feeling of the silky cloth on her legs only served to excite her further. Hot wet heat blazed a trail up and down her own thigh as Heather rubbed her naked pussy against her. She looked down, seeing her lover's petals spread wide. On the downstroke, she could see the pink pearl of her clit poking out of its hood, and was struck by a sudden urge to roll over, spread Heather's golden thighs, and lick her to a shuddering climax.

But for now, she was all but helpless in the younger woman's grip. Her mouth and hands were doing incredible, unbelievable things to her, and she could feel the wave of her orgasm rapidly approaching, set in motion by the release of long-denied desires, coupled with Heather's beauty, skillful hands, and incredible body.

She blinked through a haze of lust, trying to bring her lover's face into focus. "Heather. Sweetheart. You make me feel so good. I'm going to come soon."

"Mmmmm," Heather's reply was low and throaty, speaking of endless nights to come, as she lifted it from her chest, and her eyes gleamed with desire. "That sounds wonderful, baby." The strokes of her mound on Barb's thigh quickened, taking on a renewed urgency. "Why don't you suck on my titties for a bit while I get you off. No reason you should have all the fun."

"Yes," she breathed, her hands reaching up to encircle Heather's spectacular breasts. She thumbed the fat tips, then took them into her mouth, switching between them in a random pattern that Heather seemed to enjoy, if the increasingly-incoherent sounds from above her were any indication. The pressure of her lips on her legs increased, Heather grinding down on her, twisting her hips at the end of each stroke.

She closed her eyes as her orgasm approached. Heat, blazingly fierce, lodged between her thighs. The muscles of her legs and belly and womb began to shake, and with a hoarse yell, she came, releasing years of pent-up sexual need in a blinding outpouring of sensual joy. Her pussy clamped down on Heather's fingers. Her arms drew her lover down until their breasts were flattened together, the feel of her ripe mounds against her own tits pushing her release higher and higher, until she barely heard the sound as Heather screamed in joyous release as well.

*****

"Whoa."

"Yep." Heather's voice, Barb decided, was undeniably smug. "Did you like it?"

"Like it?" She burst into hysterical giggles, her head pillowed on her shoulder. She stroked Heather's thighs, which were still covered in the stockings. "What do you think?"

"I think that maybe you've got a little fetish there," Heather said. She kissed her cheek as her hand moved between the stocking and the golden skin of her thigh. Her fingers approached her pubic mound, then backed away. "What do you say, babe? Do you want me to greet you at the door some night, dressed in garters, stockings, high heels, and a smile?"

"That sounds...very nice." Barb closed her eyes against a bolt of renewed desire. To her surprise, Heather reached an arm out and turned off the bedside lamp, then pulled the down comforter over them both. "You want me to sleep here tonight?"

"If you like." Her breath stirred her hair. "It's been a long time since I've woken up with someone I care about."

"Me, too." She turned on her side, Heather's silky-smooth bottom nestled in her damp groin, her hand curled around one of her breasts.

"By the way..."

"Hmmm?" The sound was already sleepy.

"What's my son like in bed?"

"Barbara, you have no idea."

*****

To be continued...