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Cabled

Though Kimberly had convinced herself that her staring at her own image in the mirror had not been planned, it too had been occurring more and more lately. She blamed the heat of the August day; and it was hot, well over ninety. She had been cleaning up in the kitchen when her own body heat had become unbearable, soaking her shorts and T-shirt with slick sweat. After stripping and tossing the clothes into the laundry, she was going back to her bedroom when she passed herself in the mirror.

Before she was even aware that she had stopped, her head had spun quickly, as if she had caught sight of someone attractive. A small smile pushed up the corners of her mouth as she halted and looked. Suddenly, she was feeling more secure about her looks. Though she was not a heavy woman, in college Kimberly had been on the softball team, and she had the build one normally associates with softball players: large, firm breasts, square shoulders, slim and solid hips, thick legs. Since that time a few years ago, however, she had worked hard to attain a more feminine figure.

The image staring back at her suggested she had succeeded. In place of the thick legs there were now two slender, toned limbs. If she lacked the stride of a lady it was only because she detested high heels.

Her bum had filled out in the last couple of years, and she did nothing to discourage it, adding many repetitions of squats in the gym she went to three times a week. Her real work, however, was evidenced at her waist, which had lost more than several inches. This she credited to cutting almost all the fat out of her diet.

So she had stopped to admire her body in the mirror. But that admiration, that physical appreciation, had quickly left her hollow. I've got the body I want, she thought winsomely as she let her hands run up her hips.

But I'm lacking something--something very important. As her hands reached the sides of her heavy breasts, she knew what it was--or, more precisely, what it wasn't. A shudder rippled through her body at the touch of her hands to her breasts and she closed her eyes.

His name had been Doug, and she should of taken that to be the first warning. Doug, it seemed, was a universal name used by all good looking men. She knew the day she turned Doug's head that all her hard work, all the dieting and exercising, had paid off. Doug was a majestic male, and so taken by him had she been that a trickle of sexual excitement soaked her crotch and ran down the inside of her leg the very second their eyes had met.

Seducing him was next, something she thought she could never do. But he was all too eager to be seduced, and as she slipped his clothes away to reveal the most startling body she had ever seen, her excitement strangely began to ebb. In fact, by the time he had worked his way into her, she was nearly dry. Only through a great sexual effort had she been able to tolerate his thrusting, his lips on her breasts, his probing fingers.

And that was what made her shudder as she looked at herself now.

The thing that allowed Kimberly to survive her fading night of lust with Doug had been the vision of another woman. Standing before the mirror and lightly rolling her own aching nipples between thumb and forefinger, that vision returned.

Kimberly didn't know who the woman she kept fantasizing about was.

Just an amalgamation of feminine features that sent her into wild, shuddering convulsions. A composite woman, a strange, dark beauty of the American type, large breasted, cherry nippled, red lipped, the woman could have stepped from the pages of a lingerie catalogue.

Kimberly's heart raced, and the image once more flooded back to her.

They were always on a beach, Kimberly and the woman. The sun was high and very hot, suggesting a tropical location. Kimberly, laying in a lounge and clad only in a bikini that let the better parts of her fall out, would always spot the woman from afar. Sitting up, she would watch the woman approach. As remarkable a body as the woman had, Kimberly would always notice her smile first. It was the smile that got her, the smile that set her heart on its side, the smile that tingled the warm nook between her legs.

As the woman covered the last few steps, she would reach up behind her and release herself from the tiny swimsuit. Then, Kimberly would see the oil. For a moment the woman would stand over Kimberly, and Kimberly would see that she carried a small bottle of oil. The woman's smile never changed, even then as she slowly caressed Kimberly's body with her eyes.

Without saying a word, the woman would kneel beside Kimberly and began stripping away her bikini.

With one sharp suck, Kimberly's breath would be drawn in, arching her back sunward, swelling her breasts and thrusting them up where they met a hot trickle of oil. The woman's fingers were tender but firm as they spread the oil in small, eccentric circles, running up the mass of Kimberly's breasts, dallying on her nipples, tipping them with rocked prominence, then sliding down the concave of her belly, until finally the woman's fingers skidded over the tangle of her pubic hair and plied the slick folds of flesh between her legs.

When the doorbell rang a second time, Kimberly gasped and opened her eyes.

Her dizziness nearly toppled her, and the first thing she saw was her own reflection. Two fingers of a hand were buried deep within her dark venus, and she squatted slightly to accommodate the mounting orgasm within her.

The inside of one thigh was shiny and slick and a musky smell, the smell of sex, hung in the air like a low morning fog.

Quickly Kimberly grabbed a fresh T-shirt and pulled it on as she rushed to the door. One more second, she thought, trying to catch her breath.

She spoke into the intercom: "Who is it?"

A woman's voice answered: "Eastern Cable. I'm here to hook up your cable television service."

Again, Kimberly didn't know what to do. With the image of her fantasy woman still smoldering behind her eyes, she immediately associated the female voice with that. But the woman Kimberly let into her apartment was quite different. First of all, she was blonde and petite.

And her clothing left everything to the imagination, for she was clad in the dark blue workers' coverall prominent in the blue collar world.

A baseball cap bearing the Eastern Cable Company logo hid what Kimberly suspected was a short, close cropped haircut. A patch over her left breast proclaimed her name to be Janet.

Janet was not at all unattractive, thought Kimberly as she pointed down the hall and followed her. Fine, pale skin and thin lips were a delicate contrast to the type of work Janet did, and her blue eyes were pale and frosty. There must have been a lot more woman to Janet, for as Kimberly followed her she noticed an evident wiggle in her behind. By the time they reached the living room, Kimberly was smiling. Janet caught her as she turned around, and her own smile broke her lips. For a moment, there was a silence that was awkward only in anticipation.

"That's a very nice television," said Janet.

"Thanks. That's one of the reasons I finally decided to get cable.

The reception on this side of the city is lousy."

"I know." Janet's eyes darted down for a second, and only then was Kimberly made fully aware of how short the t- shirt she was wearing really was. In fact, it had been ear marked for the rag bag. Kimberly looked down and found that her nipples, still hard and sensitive, pushed through the worn material, as if they too wanted to see what Janet looked like.

For all intents and purposes, the T-shirt ended just below the lower reaches of her pudendum. She wondered how much of her cheeks would be revealed in the back, but instead of embarrassing her, the thought of it, the knowledge that she was naked save for the dying T-shirt in the presence of an attractive woman sent an electric thrill buzzing through her body. When Kimberly looked back up, Janet had turned to the television.

"Okay if I slide the set forward?"

"Sure, whatever."

With the television set pushed forward, Janet got in behind it and began setting up the cable box. In this manner, she could face Kimberly and the rest of the living room. Kimberly watched her work, and saw that she continued to smile. Smile, she thought. Her smile is so lovely, so peaceful, so warm. Like the smile of the woman--

"You must be dying in that work suit," Kimberly said, folding her arms beneath her breasts. pushing them up slightly and hiking the bottom of the T-shirt up a critical inch or two. Janet's eyes flashed to that newly revealed spot for a second. The smile remained.

"Yeah. We were supposed to be issued summer uniforms, but, as usual, somebody screwed up."

"Would you like something cold to drink?"

"Maybe when I'm finished, thanks."

Kimberly backed up a step, keeping Janet in her sight, and sat down on the couch. At first she sat with her knees together, watching Janet work, watching her smile. Then, when Janet seemed particularly engrossed with the circuitry behind the set, Kimberly tucked one leg beneath her, and brought the other knee up to her chin. Her crotch was now boldly revealed to the open air, her T-shirt well up over her hips.

A foreign electricity gripped Kimberly. She felt drunk and surreal, almost as if she were having an out of body experience. Rising up from herself, she saw the scene: Janet, working diligently, and Kimberly, her pussy thrown open wide to world, as if this were a normal, everyday occurrence. The thought of it made her mouth thick and sticky and tinny with expectation. Janet finally looked up.

She made no attempt to disguise the track of her eyes: they started first at Kimberly's face, but then they were drawn down magically, down to that black, exposed vee, and there they boldly stayed, one second, two seconds, three seconds, before traveling up the line of her legs, back down to her exposed pinkness, and then, finally, back up to her eyes.

Janet said: "Do you know where the cable jack is?"

Kimberly swallowed precipitously and said, "Yes. It's just around the corner."

The two women stood there in the small hallway opposite the mirror.

Just above the mirror was the cable jack.

"I've never seen a cable jack in a stranger place," said Janet.

Kimberly was watching them in the mirror; the hallway seemed crowded, the two of them, plus their images. When Kimberly spoke, she did so to Janet's image, not to Janet directly.

"It's a really old building, so cable must have been an afterthought, I guess."

"I guess," said Janet, taking Kimberly's lead and speaking to the mirror.

"Have you got a stool or something?"

Kimberly retrieved a stool from the closet, and as Janet was about to climb it, Kimberly gently took her arm.

"Wait a minute," Kimberly said, again speaking to Janet's image in the mirror that faced them, "it's dirty up there."

With a rag in her hand, Kimberly mounted the three steps of the stool.

Janet never moved. The smile, that same small, thin smile never left her lips. When Kimberly reached the top step, she looked down.

Janet's face was level with her hips. Kimberly hesitated a moment, returning Janet's smile. Then, she lifted her arms up over her shoulders and began to slowly wipe the dust from the moulding above. At first she did not look down; she preferred to fantasize.

Behind her eyes, Kimberly tried to imagine the scene below her.

With her arms lifted high, the short T-shirt would hike up well above her navel, exposing herself entirely to Janet. Her breasts, as well, would be visible as they tented out her T-shirt. Kimberly felt the new air reaching her body, and she continued to slowly wipe away the dust.

When Kimberly finally did look down, after what seemed like hours, she saw that Janet was indeed looking.

But Janet was not looking at Kimberly; instead she looked at Kimberly's image in the mirror. The smile was still there, but now it was more intense, as if Janet were studying for an exam. Slowly, Janet's head turned. When it stopped, her nose was only a few short inches from Kimberly's exposed vulva. Her eyes ran around it, then they moved up under her shirt, and Kimberly herself wondered what her breasts looked like from below. Finally, Janet closed her eyes and took in a long, deep breath through her nose.

Kimberly's musky juicing filled the apartment.

"I think that it's ready," said Kimberly, and as she stepped carefully down, she kept her eyes locked with Janet's.

When Janet had finished hooking up the cable, she returned to the television in the living room. Kneeling before it, she turned the power on and began fiddling with the controls.

"Could you help me?" she asked, turning to Kimberly. "There's a small control knob in the back of the cable box, and I need to synchronize it with your set. Could you turn it slowly for me?"

Kimberly moved over next to Janet, and once again her crotch was on a level with Janet's eyes.

"I think I've found it," said Kimberly.

"Good. Now, slowly turn it counter-clockwise. There, just like that."

Kimberly's heart was thudding painfully beneath her breasts. Janet would be done in a moment, then gone. Suddenly, Kimberly felt her feet edging forward. Janet stopped watching the television and started watching Kimberly. With her toes Kimberly pulled herself to Janet.

A final gentle hip thrust brought her pussy mound in contact with the baseball cap Janet wore. Kimberly began biting her lip, then her tongue escaped, licking her lips while she watched.

Janet reached up and delicately removed her cap. She laid it on the floor beside her. Now Kimberly's crotch came closer, until finally she could feel the end of Janet's nose tickling her pubic hair. Finally, Janet's smile disappeared. But only because her tongue, thick and red and swollen to resemble a piece of wet, exotic fruit, extended from her mouth.

Kimberly felt the first warm probing of Janet's tongue and released her tumescence instantly. Her body shivered and she gently bucked her hips in a forward rotational motion. Janet's hands slid up behind her and firmly grasped her buns, steadying Kimberly while firmly pulling her onto her wide opened mouth. Only with great effort did Kimberly manage to pull off her T-shirt. She continued shuddering while Janet's licking and sucking focused.

And then, Kimberly felt her clitoris isolated by Janet's lips. With her lips forming a tiny "o", Janet slowly sucked it, drawing it forward, while her nose made small circles on the surface of Kimberly's soaked pudendum. Again Kimberly felt herself tumbling toward another release, and she came hard and long and spasmodically, grabbing the back of Janet's head and forcing her face deep into the heat between her legs.

When she had finished, Kimberly stood back and watched Janet rise.

Janet escaped from her coveralls quickly, revealing a hidden treasure of a body. Her breasts were small by comparison to Kimberly's, but Janet's muscular back made them seem larger. Kimberly gasped when she saw the small, almost white trace of hair pointing south between Janet's hips.

Now both naked, they stopped a few inches from each other, content in their silent admiration.

Then Janet stepped forward, rising up a little on her tiptoes so their nipples could touch. Both women looked down and watched as the ends of their breasts nudged and rubbed each other. Soon they were fondling each other gently. Janet was first, daring now, and her finger tips caressed the sides of Kimberly's breasts, sliding down to her nipples, big brown diamonds surrounded by a chocolate sea of areola. There she simultaneously pinched both her own nipple and Kimberly's between her thumb and forefinger. Kimberly let out a small cry of surprise, then joined in with Janet.

And then, they kissed, lightly at first, with some trepidation, then with a deep force that pulled them together and mashed their chests into one warm mass of quivering joy. Their hands fled freely over each other, kneading buns, pulling harder.

Slowly they fell to their knees, then all the way to the floor. Kimberly gently forced Janet onto her back and covered her with her own body.

On all fours, Kimberly dangled her breasts over Janet's, rotating her back and again letting her nipples graze Janet's. Her mouth drew her down farther, and soon she had one of Janet's breasts in her mouth.

With her lips far apart she engulfed most of the breast. Inside her mouth she felt the fat of her tongue lick Janet's solid nipple. In another moment she had the nipple between her teeth, and while her incisors lightly gripped it, her tongue dashed back and forth over the part of the nipple that had been pinched behind her teeth. Finally Janet moaned, then arched her back.

As if she could extrude and project her vulva, the hot folds of Janet's flesh there reached out and brushed against Kimberly's own mound.

By gently scissoring each other, the women found they could stimulate themselves in a most carnal way. Kimberly was content to ride her partner in this fashion for uncountable minutes.

She found herself sliding away, however, her body pulled along the surface of Janet's, her large breasts displacing themselves first on Janet's, then down her tight waist to the small roundness of her tummy, across her wiry pubis where, for a breathless instant Kimberly felt her nipple slide across Janet's soaked crotch, and finally along the inside of her thighs.

Then Kimberly rose and knelt between Janet's legs, which were spread wide apart. Letting her fingers race down the inside of Janet's thighs, Kimberly felt her own smile mounting. Janet returned it and reached up and fondled one of Kimberly's breasts. Then Kimberly closed her eyes and opened her mouth as she slowly descended upon Janet.

Kimberly tasted salt at first, the sweat from Janet's heat. Her tongue licked the inside of Janet's hard thighs. And then it entered a soft, wet place, musky, acid in taste, but oh so sweet and tender. Her mouth opened and her lips came into play and behind her closed eyes Kimberly's fantasy slowly melted into the reality of the afternoon.

It had finished with Janet reaching a low, rumbling orgasm. Continuing to lay on her back, Janet projected her bottom up into the air by arching her back deeply and propping her buns up with her hands. Kimberly sat cross legged and helped hold Janet up, who really weighed next to nothing.

This allowed Janet to drape her legs over Kimberly's shoulders; at times Kimberly thought she would drown in a tide of Janet's wet reaction.

She felt as though she had drunk gallons of sweet nectar.

And then, with Janet's bucking finished, they rolled into one more embrace, one more wet trade, a final taste. While Janet dressed, Kimberly watched from the couch, not bothering herself to reclothe. She got up to walk her to the door. There Janet hesitated and turned to face Kimberly.

"I'm not sure I hooked everything up correctly," said Janet, trying to hold back her smile. "I might have to come back and...readjust something."

Janet allowed herself one last tweak of Kimberly's nipples, and then she was gone. Kimberly leaned against the door, her eyes closed, her chest heaving with her sharp intakes of breath. When she finally opened her eyes, she walked over to the television and unscrewed the cable wire.

The television, which had been on but muted the entire time, now went white with snow.

Kimberly melted into her couch and smiled. Her tension was gone.