Is This Seat Taken?

Rolling Whitney onto her back again, Polly again admired the girl's beauty, then bent and kissed Whitney's mouth. Lying on top of Whitney, Polly's bald mound pressed firmly against Whitney's thatch of pubic hair. Polly ground her crotch against Whitney's crotch until both girls groaned in orgasm.

With one more kiss to Whitney's lips, Polly wiggled down and brought her mouth to Whitney's wet folds. The smell was intoxicating; the smell of musk and sweat and salt. Whitney's taste was a heady one and Polly lapped at Whitney's sex.

"Mm, oh, oh Polly, yes," Whitney encouraged as Polly thrust two fingers into Whitney's kitty while her tongue batted at Whitney's fat clitoris.

"Mm, mm, ack! ACK! Aieegh!" Whitney screamed in orgasm.

Whitney's thighs had wrapped around Polly's head as her orgasm neared. Polly still heard Whitney's scream of pleasure. Her heart leapt in her chest, knowing that she was able to bring pleasure to Whitney.

Polly licked and fingered Whitney to a second orgasm before crawling her way forward. Again, Polly pressed her mound against Whitney's crotch, pressed her breasts against Whitney's breasts and softly kissed the beautiful young woman.

"That was..." Whitney murmured dreamily.

"Yeah, yeah it was," Polly agreed.

Chad, Polly's most recent boyfriend was not one to cuddle after sex, making love. Whitney obviously was, though. She lay next to Polly, curling her leg over Polly's leg, placing her head on Polly's shoulder. Whitney's hand gently trailed along Polly's belly, her fingertips just softly trailing up and down along Polly's flesh.

"I'm 'bout to fall asleep," Whitney whispered, warm breath tickling Polly's ear.

Polly found a short combed cotton shift and matching shorts for Whitney to sleep in. Whitney insisted on brushing her teeth before she would go to bed. Thankfully, Polly had one of those toothbrushes the dentist's office gave to her, still in the plastic wrap.

Then Whitney knelt by her side of the bed and silently did the sign of the cross. Polly watched, slightly bemused as Whitney silently moved her lips, obviously reciting a prayer.

"How can you pray? What we did was sinful," Polly wanted to ask Whitney.

According to her mother, what she and Whitney had done was sinful, and disgusting. According to Father Goldbrithe, what she and Whitney had done was deviant, a perversion of God's purpose for her as a daughter of God.

"Now, how you know that's not my side of the bed?" Polly playfully asked as Whitney wiggled under the comforter.

"That side's closest to the bathroom, there's two pillows on that side and only one on this side, and your alarm clock's right there," Whitney said. "And you're left handed; you'd want the clock to be at your left hand when you turn off the alarm."

"I, my last boyfriend? I don't know how many times he slept here, and I know he never even noticed any of that," Polly said, turning off her bedside lamp.

"He wasn't a woman," Whitney said simply, moving her pillow closer to Polly's side of the bed.

Polly wanted to hate Whitney; it was six thirty on a Saturday morning. Polly's day to sleep late. She couldn't sleep late on Sunday morning; she needed to meet her mother at St. Richard's in DeGarde for nine o'clock Mass. But Whitney was in the kitchen; the clang of pans and the smell of coffee and bacon had roused Polly from a deep, contented sleep.

"Potato hash scramble," Whitney announced cheerfully when Polly staggered into the kitchen, murder on her mind.

"How, how in God's name can you look that damned happy at six thirty in the morning?" Polly grumbled, grabbing her favorite mug out of the cabinet.

"Easy," Whitney giggled.

Whitney indicated the stove, where a large skillet sat, sizzling merrily.

"I'm making breakfast for you," Whitney explained.

"And?" Polly asked, splashing a good amount of creamer into her coffee.

"I'm making breakfast for you," Whitney said again, grabbing two plates. "And that makes me happy."

"I uh, oh," Polly said.

"Come on, Lefty," Whitney bubbled, putting two plates onto the kitchen table.

"Whatever, Blondie," Polly said.

That simple answer set Whitney into a fit of elated giggles. She clutched Polly's hand happily when Polly sat down.

"Blondie?" Whitney enthused.

Whitney pointed to her breasts, which were spilling out of the top of Polly's simple shift. Polly looked at Whitney's large breasts, then into Whitney's sparkling green eyes.

"Because of these? The, my nickname? In high school? The girls called me 'Tit-ney,'" Whitney admitted.

"That, that's cruel," Polly said.

"Blondie," Whitney giggled to herself and dug into her food with gusto.

"Now, when you ready, you need take me home," Whitney said as Polly scraped the last bite of her food onto her fork. "We're doing a reset today? And Mr. Gerrard? He wants me there in case they need anything?"

"Oh! What time you got to be there?" Polly asked, chewing and swallowing quickly.

"Nine, but Mr. Gerrard? He says if your ten minutes early you're five minutes late," Whitney admitted.

In the light of the early morning, Whitney's red dress and thigh high stockings and pumps looked whorish. Polly wondered if any of her neighbors would be up this early, would see her pulling out of her garage with a beautiful blonde woman that was dressed like a whore.

"I uh," Polly stammered, unsure of what to say as she pulled up to Whitney's apartment building.

"Thanks," Whitney said happily, getting out of Polly's car.

"I, that's it?" Polly wanted to scream. "We just...and you just get out the car with a 'thanks?'"

Polly watched Whitney climbing the stairs, breasts bouncing and buttocks swaying. Then with a cheerful wave, Whitney entered an apartment. Polly backed out of the parking lot and drove home.

Home again, Polly returned to her warm, comfortable bed. She burrowed down and fell fast asleep.

Greg Porter's annoying, incessant whining electric lawnmower roused Polly from a deep sleep. Polly burrowed underneath her comforter but Greg seemed to be cutting the grass right underneath Polly's window, stuck on one particular spot.

"God, really?" Polly screamed at her bedroom window. "Porter, you suck!"

Seeing that it was 9"18, Polly wondered if Whitney had managed to get to work in time. Thinking of her beautiful houseguest, Polly brought her right hand to her breast and her left hand to her crotch.

"Mm," Polly sighed as she slowly masturbated.

"Wonder how many 'Hail Marys' Father Goldbrithe would give me for that," Polly giggled as she teased her clitoris with her fingers.

Then Polly cleaned her home. The kitchen was scrubbed, counters and floors and stove and refrigerator were wiped down with bleach and water. Each bathroom was likewise scrubbed; even the bathroom that no one had been in since Polly moved into her home.

"Hello?" Polly answered her cell.

"Sup Lefty?" Whitney giggled.

"Blondie! You, you're already getting off?" Polly asked, seeing that it was 12:34 in the afternoon.

"Huh? No, no, Mr. Gerrard's sent me to Junior's for lunch; he's buying everyone's lunch?" Whitney said.

"Well, that was pretty nice of him," Polly agreed.

"Anyway, you busy? You doing anything tonight?" Whitney asked.

"I, no, no, nothing," Polly agreed.

"I can come over?" Whitney asked, voice breathless with excitement.

"Sure; what time?" Polly asked, wondering if she'd have time to spray foam cleaner on her quite clean carpets.

"Mm, we, Mr. Gerrard said we'd be finished by four? Four thirty? Um, six?" Whitney asked.

"Six? Oh, okay, Blondie," Polly said, digging the can of foam cleaner from the cabinet. "See you at six."

"Blondie!" Whitney giggled happily. "Vye, Lefty."

"Bye," Polly said to empty air.

While the foam settled into the carpet, Polly microwaved a frozen dinner. After running the vacuum cleaner over the carpet, Polly showered and was about to shrug on her usual Saturday lazing about clothing. At the last moment, she put on her white satin bra and matching thong panties. Over that, Polly wore a soft, pretty blouse and some nice slacks.

OOooOOOooOO

At five minutes to six, Polly put her porch light on, even though the sun was just beginning to slip below the fringe of trees to the west. There was still twenty five minutes of sunlight left. But Polly just felt better if Whitney would have the light on to help her negotiate the three steps up from walkway to front door.

Three minutes after six, a small Toyota pulled up to the curb in front of Polly's house. Polly felt a shiver run through her as a smiling Whitney got out of the car, clutching a large cloth bag to her chest. Again, Polly hoped none of her neighbors were peeking through their windows; Whitney's clothing was tawdry.

The pale blonde was wearing a long sleeved dress of black stretchy shiny material that came down to mid-thigh. A large chrome ring nestled between Whitney's breasts, drawing attention to the two large globes on Whitney's chest. Whitney's legs were bare; Polly was grateful for this. She could just imagine the beauty wearing fishnet stockings with the gaudy dress. On Whitney's feet were her black patent leather pumps.

"Hi!" Whitney laughed happily when Polly jerked the door open.

"Hi!" Polly echoed, ushering the girl into the home.

"Hi," Whitney repeated and kissed Polly on her lips. "Hi, miss me? I missed you; oh, work? I swear, Mr. Gerrard? He's like super smart, but he's so hard to work for."

"What's in the bag?" Polly asked.

"Oh, don't look in it, please? It's, I, I got a surprise in it, okay?" Whitney enthused, putting the bag onto Polly's light blue and beige velour loveseat.

"Oh, okay," Polly said, looking at Whitney's dress again. "Is that, that's a zipper?"

"Uh huh," Whitney giggled and tugged the ring down, revealing more and more of her flesh.

Whitney then pulled a single grocery bag from the large cloth bag. Abruptly, Whitney turned and scampered to the kitchen. Polly followed as Whitney squatted and pulled one of Polly's storage containers out of the meat drawer.

"We're having fajitas tonight," Whitney declared, grabbing two large pans from the ceiling hooks.

"I, what is that?" Polly asked.

"Fajitas? It's..." Whitney started.

"No, I know what a fajita is, you goof," Polly laughed. "I meant..."

"Don't," Whitney said, losing her smile. "Don't call me a goof."

"What? What's wrong?" Polly asked, seeing the hurt look on Whitney's face.

"I, I know I'm not that smart," Whitney whispered. "People make fun of me all the time. But you..."

"Whitney, I, I'm so sorry," Polly said, hugging the woman. "I, I wasn't making fun of you, I promise."

Polly put her hands on either side of Whitney's face. She stared intently into Whitney's brilliant green eyes and saw the hurt in Whitney's eyes. She softly kissed Whitney's lips.

"I am so, so sorry; I never want to hurt you," Polly whispered.

"It's just, people always call me stupid, or dopey, or goofy and it hurts; it really hurts," Whitney whispered.

Polly kissed Whitney's lips again. She pulled the unresisting girl in for another long hug. Whitney's arms wound around Polly's torso and the two women held one another.

"And, uh, I think you're pretty damned smart. You, you observe things most other people miss," Polly enthused.

Releasing Whitney, Polly tapped on the storage container. Whitney hurried to reduce the heat on the skillets

"I meant, what's that? What's in here?" Polly explained.

"Oh! You had some sirloin strips and the package said it was going to go bad?" Whitney said and opened the container. "So, I put it in this marinade? You need to get some more lines next time you do your groceries."

"Huh? Oh! Oh yeah, Trey, Trey Martinez was supposed to come over and grill those hmm, Tuesday?" Polly said.

"What happened?" Whitney asked laying the pink meat onto the screaming hot skillet.

"Appendicitis," Polly said. "Ex-wife drove all the way from Norwill, Tennessee and they decided to give it another go."

From the grocery bag, Whitney pulled a package of corn tortillas, a jar of chunky salsa and an avocado. Polly stepped back and again watched the ballet of Whitney's food preparation.

"I hope you're not one of those that has to burn their meat?" Whitney said as she transferred the meat from the skillet to a platter. "Anything more than medium? Robs the food of flavor?"

"Whitney, I've had fajitas at Manny's don't look that good," Polly marveled.

"Oh!" Whitney complained, stomping her foot. "Oh, Whitney! How could you forget?"

"Forget what?" Polly asked.

"Margaritas!" Whitney said.

"Next time," Polly soothed as she quickly made a pitcher of lemonade.

"Go ahead," Whitney conceded. "Go ahead. Call me a goof."

"I will not," Polly said.

They ate the delicious meal. Whitney's good mood returned as Polly praised her cooking. Soon, she was telling Polly about the massive computer reset they'd performed that day.

"Oh! Hey, how'd you get my number?" Polly suddenly remembered.

"Uh, I work at PC Nation?" Whitney giggled. "Totally not supposed do this, but I looked you up in our data base right before Mr. Gerrard started the shut down."

After the meal, Whitney pulled Polly to her bedroom. With a single pull of her chrome ring, Whitney was ready to play.

While Polly scrambled to undress, Whitney rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a 'Bargain Bin' plastic bag. She kicked off her heels and lay on the bed, propped up on her left elbow.

"Okay, you like butterflies? Or hearts? Oh, oh, I bet you'd look good with a rose," Whitney asked.

"What? What you got there," Polly asked, posing in her white satin bra and panties.

"Oh! That's so pretty on you," Whitney praised.

Polly unhooked the bra and let it flutter down. She smiled; she had Whitney's attention as she shimmied out of her skimpy panties.

"What you got there?" Polly asked, laying onto the bed, propping herself onto her right elbow.

"They're these temporary tattoos," Whitney enthused, showing Polly five packets of tattoos. "I wanted to see what they'd look like; I had this boyfriend? Jason? He had a bunch of tattoos? Got most of them when he was in Mumphrey?"

"Mumphrey?" Polly asked. "Whitney, Mumphrey? That's..."

"I know, it's a prison," Whitney said. "He said they had the wrong guy but then he tried to rob Huvall's? Went right back."

Whitney fanned out the packets of temporary tattoos. Polly noticed that Whitney fanned the packets facing Polly, for Polly to be able to see them more clearly.

"Anyway, he had these nasty tattoos? He had this snake on his hand? That's not pretty," Whitney said. "But, I was at that store? The Bargain Bin? Sometimes I find the nicest tops and skirts there? And they had these, right by the register?"

Polly looked at the mermaids, hearts, Roses, butterflies and roses. The second packet of roses had been opened.

"I did one of the roses? Put it right here?" Whitney said, gently tracing her right index finger along Polly's left breast.

Leaning forward, Whitney trailed her lips behind her finger's path, down along the inside of Polly's left breast.

"It looked hot," Whitney enthused.

"A rose," Polly decided.

"Yay," Whitney said and scrambled from the bed.

She ran into Polly's bathroom and Polly heard Whitney fumbling around. Then she heard water running. A moment later, Whitney scrambled onto the bed and pushed Polly to lay on her back.

"First got to get the area wet," Whitney said and applied the wet washcloth to Polly's left breast, along the inside.

Polly realized, Whitney had made sure that the washcloth was warm. She looked up into the happy face, looked into Whitney's excited eyes and smiled.

Last night, last night had been purely lust-driven. This, however, was deeper, more meaningful than just lustful, carnal activity.

This was spontaneity, fun, silliness. Polly realized that playfulness had been missing from her life for quite a while. Between work and school, studying to become a lawyer, pushing herself to be the best and the brightest, she'd forgotten how to laugh and play.

"And..." Whitney selected a fairly large rose; she had to unfold the transfer sheet three times.

The stem of the rose extended to just past Polly's navel. The buds of the three roses, one opened and two still closed reached to Polly's areole on her left breast.

"And we leave it there for a couple of minutes," Whitney bubbled and pressed her lips to Polly's lips.

"Wait, wait, how we get this off?" Polly suddenly worried.

Some of her blouses opened to show a goodly portion of her cleavage. Polly sometimes did dress to show a bit of cleavage; Judge Mike Hebert was known to lean more favorably in favor of attractive women. Judge Jesse Johnson certainly appreciated an attractive woman's charms. But Polly wasn't sure if either judge would look favorably on a tattooed breast.

"It fades after a couple of days," Whitney said. "But if you really need take it off? We just use some witch hazel; you got that big bottle in there?"

Whitney again smoothed the transfer paper down over Polly's flesh and kissed Polly's lips. Polly opened her mouth and Whitney slid her tongue into Polly's mouth.

"And..." Whitney said, sitting on her heels and slowly lifting the paper from Polly's flesh.

"Oh! Oh that is awesome! Come on, you, you got to see this!" Whitney enthused and pulled Polly from her bed.

Polly had to agree; the tattoo was striking against her pale flesh. It looked sleazy, tawdry, gaudy, and sexy.

"That is, you are so hot," Whitney enthused, squeezing Polly from behind as Polly looked in the long mirror over her bathroom's vanity.

Polly allowed Whitney to decorate her pubic mound with a small butterfly. The two inch wide blue and red butterfly rested just to the right of Polly's bald pussy.

Whitney put a slightly larger butterfly to the left of her thatch of pubic hair, right where her upper thigh and belly met. On her left buttock, Whitney put a two inch heart and had Polly write 'Polly' inside of the heart with a ball point pen.

Polly had Whitney take some cell phone pictures of her with her naughty tattoos. Polly also took some pictures of Whitney's naughty tattoos.

Whitney put her tattoos back into the Bargain Bin bag and put that into her cloth bag. She again lay on the bed next to Polly and kissed Polly. The two women stretched out, Whitney on her left side and Polly on her right side and mashed their bodies together.

They bumped heads when they both tried to bend to suck on the nipple of the other. With a giggle, Whitney eased Polly onto her back, then knelt above Polly, dangling her large breasts in Polly's face.

"Mm, oh, oh Whitney," Polly crooned as Whitney bent and sucked, then bit Polly's left nipple.

Whitney switched from nipple to nipple, kissing, nibbling, biting Polly's sensitive flesh.

"Mm, ack!" Polly grunted when Whitney wiggled down and placed her warm mouth over Polly's bald mound.

Polly lifted her head and found Whitney's pussy. She gave a long lick from the top of Whitney's slit to the area of skin between slit and anus. Then she used her fingers to open Whitney's pretty lips. Polly thrust two fingers into Whitney's hole while blindly seeking Whitney's clitoris with her tongue.

Whitney was quick to orgasm and a moment later, Polly also grunted in orgasm. Polly kept her two fingers inside of Whitney but tilted her head, tongue seeking Whitney's tight little anus.

"Mm, oh, Polly!" Whitney cooed as she thrust three fingers into Polly's pussy.

"Mm, damn, oh, oh Whitney!" Polly grunted as Whitney's tongue lapped urgently at Polly's anus.

"Mm, oh, oh yes!" Polly hissed as Whitney thrust two well-manicured fingernails into Polly's rectum.

"Mm, mmnng!" Polly grunted as Whitney's right hand diddled and pinched Polly's clitoris while three fingers of Whitney's left hand corkscrewed in and out of Polly's rectum.