0 comments/ 68604 views/ 7 favorites Giving Away Virginia Holton By: JonathanStone Today would have to wait, thought Marla Holton as she hurriedly gathered her bag and notebook in preparation for a no-holds-barred departure from her office at Prism Design. As general manager she had the privilege of arriving and leaving at will, though no one could ever fault her for not putting in a full day's and night's work. Usually Marla would announce to her secretary, Marian Leopold, that she was going somewhere, and then she would spend the next thirty to forty-five minutes circling the hall offices, talking with people who were just arriving, visiting and in general doing everything but departing. Eventually her staff at Prism began to kid her about the fact that when she said she was leaving, she meant that she was cruising the office for no good reason at all. She good-naturedly giggled at her employees, many of whom had long since graduated from 'employee' to the coveted status of friend, and agreed with them. As time passed and it became even more difficult for "Elvis to leave the building," the staff began making bets as to how long it would actually take Marla to exit the building on Palm Beach's portion of the Intracoastal Waterway. This time she wanted to be alone to think and realized that if she didn't leave right away, it being Wednesday, she probably would not do so at all. Moreover, she planned to meet Virginia for lunch. She pressed "Control-Alt-Delete" on her recently installed computer system, clicked on "Lock Computer," stepped to the door of her secretary's office and motioned for Marian to step into her room when she got off the telephone. "I have no earthly idea what I'd do without her," she remarked to no one in particular as she sat down on her couch to wait for the young woman. She idly surveyed herself in the quiet of her office as she heard Marian's conversation wind down following an appointment with a photographer for a shoot the following week. Waist-length thick, wiry white hair, loose and spread out in a massive cloud as usual, felt wonderfully sexy on her bare arms. She wore a form-hugging cranberry sweater without sleeves, a black leather micro-skirt and matching spike-heel leather shoes. The skirt felt marvelously sexy, for it was tight, butter-soft and reached just below the bottom curve of her shapely ass when she stood. She wore a delicate lacey half-bra beneath her sweater, one that supported her breasts while exposing nipples and deliciously rounded tops; under the tiny skirt there was nothing but her warm, smooth flesh. It occurred to her that she could not even recall the last time when she had worn either a thong or panties. Her pussy hid beneath a curly, bluish-black starburst of thick gorgeous fur that began as a five-inch-wide strip below her navel and narrowed to a point just short of her anal cleft. When Virginia had left for the University of Texas, she was clean-shaven. In the four years since she had allowed her grass to grow in anticipation of Virginia's return. It was the erotic blessing enjoyed by her hair stylist, Brian, to sculpt this lush mat during her weekly visit to his salon. Marla considered how she looked in public with everything she possessed on display, and experienced the usual sexual jolt. She thrilled to the sensation of exposure around others and her reputation for it. And she relished the weekly interludes with Brian who exercised consummate skill as he carefully groomed her fur after tending to her hair. Not that she'd allowed him to cut her white mane. Rather, she was aroused by his prolonged combing sessions and the way he fondled her striking explosion of hair. He also had such a delicious way of brushing her clit with a finger several times during his sensuous care of her muff. Before he finished his artwork he would ask her to roll over on her tummy. Then he continued his delicate ministrations upon the lower edge of her fur, shaving her entire anal cleft and ass to a glossy softness and gently toying with her tight little hole. She giggled at herself as she thought of what she usually jokingly said to Brian after he performed these delightful services. "Brian, I am so glad I found you and Sherryl here at Hair and There. I'm trying to show off your handiwork as often as I can without getting myself arrested. And I feel as if I should apologize for the fact that when you touch me and trim my fur I get wet. I hope it doesn't bother you...but it's your fault. " "Marla," he shot back without missing a beat, "whatever problem you might present to me in the practice of my profession, that is certainly not one of them. Dear Lady, it is all I can do to be well mannered and keep my hands to myself when you're here. In the proper fashion, of course." He smiled at her and winked. "Why in the world would you want to keep your hands to yourself, Brian?" Marla would ask with an air of innocence. "Actually, I would find those hands remarkably pleasing and relaxing. Why not think about that over the weekend?" He had always laughed with her, had always been a gentleman in every respect. Yet in her heart of hearts she did not at all find unpleasant the thought of his strong, gentle hands roving over her flesh, playing with her fur, sinking tenderly into her moist pussy. And when she was alone and allowed her imagination out to play she usually enjoyed a luscious little orgasm at the thought of Brian's hands caressing her intimate parts. Her tiny leather skirt with its wide black belt and large but not garish gold buckle simply guaranteed that anyone near her could and would see everything Marla Holton possessed between her smooth muscular legs. If an observer looked carefully as she walked toward or away from her that person could see the extremities of her fur and a delicious hint of the lower curve of her ass. If she bent over or stooped for any reason, all those within visual range could feast their eyes on Marla's gorgeous fluff and her mouth-watering bottom. When she sat, wherever she sat, nothing was covered other than a small area just below her waist and the tiny portion of her bottom visible from either side. The skirt was so short that her full bush and thighs were completely bare. Since she could never be described as demure, Marla rarely had keeping her legs together as item number one for any given day. It was not that she made a conscious decision, "Right now I'm going to expose myself," when she parted those marvelous legs. She just acted naturally, moving in whatever fashion was comfortable at the moment, and left others to enjoy her nakedness or be offended by it. It was not unknown for her to stretch out one leg while spreading the other, and almost all employees had at some time entered her office to find her with her legs spread far apart under her glass-and-steel desk that had no front. Obviously, the effect was instantly electric whether she was in an airport lounge or behind her desk working or hosting a meeting. Marla enormously enjoyed exposing herself. And it was definitely good publicity for her company. As president of Prism Designs of Palm Beach, Florida, designer and manufacturer of sensuous and erotic clothing for men and women, Marla wore her own designs for business meetings and professional engagements, pleasure, personal contacts and promotional purposes. In other words, all the time. She achieved fame early-on in her company when she appeared at meetings wearing lovely jackets and sweaters over her tiny skirts...and nothing else beneath. Just because a gathering was a business meeting had no influence whatever over her enjoyment of baring herself casually. It took a while for her company managers to get used to this in meetings and some never accomplished that at all. She always enjoyed a good laugh when she would show up at a meeting and find people in attendance who had no earthly purpose being there. But they really wanted to see what sort of sensuous display she would present. A running joke among those with whom Prism did business was that her meetings were the best attended in company history. Of course, since she had founded the company it didn't have all that much history. But there had been a lot of meetings and hers always had waiting lists. No matter...she relished her casual eroticism and never even considered altering her form of dress. In short, she was a powerfully sexual woman who was quite open about her sensuality and her desires. Admirers as well as those who despised her for this sensuality, for her success, or simply because they despised everyone who didn't despise Marla often referred to her as "Legs." Whether the name was intended as a compliment or a curse, Marla had legs to die for...and to get between. She treasured this manifestation of her sexual appeal to men and women. As she awaited Marian's entrance she reached into her bag and withdrew her rosebud, a stainless steel strawberry-shaped device a little more than three inches in length overall, topped by a short stalk with a deep blue sapphire stone set into its flat, circular top. "Rosebud" is the more cultured name for an anal plug worn by men and women for purposes of erotic decoration. The device can be worn in both sitting and standing positions and she frequently inserted one of these into her hole. It was one of Virginia's Pussy Pins creations, as were other decorative anal inserts and bars she enjoyed wearing in public. With a light gel from a tiny bottle she carried Marla covered the gently pointed little bulb, leaned sideways to bare her hole, inserted it and slowly pressed the rosebud home. Once the bulb was seated inside her anus she relaxed. It felt quite pleasant for it gave a sensation of fullness and heaviness within her. She was aroused by the knowledge that when she bent over her decoration was completely visible. "Yeah, you are an exhibitionist, Marla Holton. Enjoy it," she muttered with a smile as she heard Marian return the telephone to its cradle and rise from behind her no-front glass and steel office desk. She knocked for courtesy's sake, then entered Marla's office with her usual bright smile. "Good morning, Marla," she began. "Hello, Sweetheart," replied Marla. "I wanted to let you know what I'll be doing today just so you'll be aware in case you need to call my cell phone. Otherwise, I'm out for the day." She gazed back at the young woman who had served her so capably for two years and who was one of her two lovers. Marian was a lesbian without broken-glass edges. She and Marla had become intimate about a year after they met at a conference in Atlanta. Her qualifications as a personnel specialist with her additional grasp of how computers worked and how to make them work when they didn't want to at first intrigued Marla, then convinced her that she needed the attractive young woman on her staff. Only when Prism had hired her and moved Marian to Palm Beach did they actually become interested in each other. It happened gradually; though she did not advertise the fact among her staff most of them were aware of the relationship but thought little more of it. Moreover, unlike a great many people who simply could not handle being in love with someone under whom they must also work on a daily basis, Marian found it a simple matter to work loyally for the woman with whom she loved, lived and slept. Marla found to her joy that the same was true from her own position. Marian took her usual position across from and in front of Marla, usual for obvious reasons. Muscles in Marla's legs rippled sensuously as she stretched them out, pulling her arms behind her head and locking her fingers there. She relaxed. "You know that you simply set me on fire when you do that, don't you, Marla?" Marian laughed as she brashly admired her supervisor's tanned, silky calves and thighs. "I like to do this. It excites me because it excites you, Darling. What do you like about it?" "Well...hmmm...gee, now that's tough one, Ms Holton. Can I think about it and get back to you later?" "Marian, you would say that," laughed Marla. She gazed at the twenty-five year old woman before speaking further. Marian was a distinct asset to Prism Designs. She had an irrepressible good humor and could get along with everyone, an unusual gift in a time when many Americans are unhappy about something even when they aren't sure what it is. She had a softly oval-shaped face, brown eyes that smiled with her broad mouth, which was most of the time, and what Marla designated as a 'cute' nose. Marian was just about the same height as Marla with a deliciously full but not plump build and had the sexiest, most beautiful growth of body hair Marla had ever seen. Her face gave no hint of the growth she had cultivated on her body. She wore her hair in a pageboy cut. But beneath her arms she possessed thatches of hair so dense that she had once told Marla she called them her "furry little animals." The underarm growth was lush and bushed out from beneath her arms when she was standing naturally or sitting at rest. Marian had decided in college that she wanted to see what it was like to stop shaving and let her hair grow. So she did. The result was a dark covering on her legs, a majestic pussy bush that continued into and grew from her anal cleft, a sexy lighter growth on her tight butt, and a strip of dark hair up her abdomen to a point halfway between her navel and her breasts. The latter were just the right size to provide her with a Jiggle Factor of 7.5 on the ten point Jiggle Scale. Marian was quite satisfied with that rating. Marla was especially aroused that Marian made no effort to conceal her body hair. This was unusual because most of the hairy women she'd known didn't display it as did Marian. She delighted in wearing short skirts and dresses, v-e-r-y tight short shorts and even hot pants, and when a reasonable opportunity didn't occur naturally she created one. The young woman was quite proud of her fur and enjoyed displaying it. Marian, in contrast to many other women who allowed the hair on their legs to flourish, decided to accentuate her hairy thighs by shaving her calves to just above her knees, very attractive knees at that. This added sensuality to her tight short shorts and mini- and micro-skirts. She certainly received her share of stares and pointed fingers, and, yes, Marla knew of a few instances when someone had made fun of Marian. But it all rolled off the good-humored brunette as if she were Teflon. She smiled, felt sexy, knew that others found her intensely seductive and continued displaying her assets with more tiny skirts and tight shorts. Marla assessed her young associate before speaking. Marian wore a sleeveless blue blouse tucked into a pair of nicely cut light gray slacks that accentuated her ass. Matching open-toe block heel sandals of black leather completed her outfit. Of course, she could never keep from staring at the glossy fur bushing from beneath the young woman's arms. "I could simply eat you alive right now, Marian," she thought to herself. A delicious little tingle worked its way through her abdomen and down between her legs. "Marian, in addition to our love for each other, we have talked often about the place of Virginia in my life, and the undeniable fact that she and Jason are growing to love each other." Her assistant nodded expectantly and she continued. Virginia was Marla's stunning shemale son with whom she had been in love for years. Jason Sanders, Marla's 'boyfriend,' was a remarkable man of thirty-eight who had entered their lives the second year of their residence in Palm Beach. Marla chuckled silently to herself as she recalled Virginia's remark last weekend. They were lunching at the Pineapple Boat Restaurant in Lighthouse Beach after a trip to Miami's South Beach to show off several of Prism's latest risqué designs of casual wear and beach attire. "Marla," Virginia began with an air of mock concern, "I am starting to get really upset about your intense sexual activities. Is it possible, O Most Sensuous Woman, that you are spreading yourself a bit thin, as it were, and need to back off from your erotic activities for a rest? Not with me, of course, but with everybody else?" Before Marla could answer her shemale lover shook her great mass of long blonde hair and began to silently tick off on slender fingers the men and women, mostly women, with whom she was sexually involved. With each finger Virginia mouthed the name of that individual. When finished she brushed aside the heavy wave of hair that usually covered her right eye. "Are you having fun?" Marla responded testily. In fact, this was a ceremony the two of them carried on at least once each week, and neither of them minded it at all. It was one more means by which they expressed their deep affection for each other. "Of course I am," replied Virginia with a straight face. "I believe you are over-worked, over-sexed, over-gifted with enough sensuous assets to make up for any ten normal people and under-relaxed considering the pressures on you. Furthermore, I am convinced that Jason plays a large part in your exhaustion. And finally, lots of people really get hot over women with muscles; you also bear the added burden of their gathered desires." "Virginia, Darling, a., Jason and I have a very active but reasonable sexual relationship, and, b., you are one of the reasons I am over-sexed and over-worked. Do you realize that only two nights in the past month have passed without our tangling in bed? And I oughta call you the 'Blonde Typhoon' because you will simply not have any mercy on me and give me a break!" Virginia smiled the broad, beautiful Emily Procter-like smile for which she had become famous throughout the company. "Of course I realize that. And of course I have no intention of giving you a break. Remember that famous line Louis L'Amour used in his westerns...all of which I have read, I must add..., 'If you open the ball you'd better be ready to dance.' Remember that?" Virginia's mother nodded laboriously, "Yes, I remember. Only because you've told me just short of one-thousand times complete with novel name and page reference." "Well, you started something with Prism and with me, Darling, something sexy and delicious and perfectly delightful, and you are at the center of it. You, Marla Holton, are everyone's image of the woman they'd like most to bed for a week. And you, my beautiful Mother, asked for this." "I did not!" "Yes, you did!" "I didn't." "You did." "You're not going to win this time, Virginia." "Yes, I am, Marla." "You know, you gorgeous thing, you are at times simply weird." "I'm NOT weird, Mother!" Virginia shot back. "Yes, Darling, you really are." With a grin tugging at each corner of her mouth, Virginia asked the question that Marla knew was coming. "And why do you think I'm weird?" "All right, anybody whose music preferences range from George Gershwin to Creedence Clearwater Revival to Little Anthony and the Zydeco House Rockers to elevator music to...oh, heavens, Virginia, ...to Bluegrass...I consider them so odd that they ought to be arrested as a public menace!" Marla was working hard to suppress laughter. She failed. Virginia tried to look truly aggrieved and likewise missed her target. Instead, she leaned to her right toward her mother's chair, glared at the uninhibited display of Marla's black bush that her short skirt failed to conceal, and whispered, "I see your grass, Marla." Since this response made no sense at all in the context of their talk, Marla looked at Virginia as if she'd lost her marbles. "What?" "I see your bush. Your lovely itty-bitty skirt doesn't cover you. I see you." Virginia gently tapped a long-nailed finger on the table as if she had laid down a challenge and was awaiting a response. "Somewhere in all of this I have missed something vital. We were talking about how weird you are. So what? Seeing my pussy in public has never bothered you before." Giving Away Virginia Holton She glared at her son sitting across the table on the canopy-covered rear deck of the Pineapple Boat. He was perfectly beautiful. And she loved him so dearly. Sunlight turned his butt-length blonde waves into a massive skein of golden threads. Blue eyes laughed at her from a face that was one of the most striking she had ever seen; she felt his hands cover hers, then begin to toy with her long fingernails. As always, she melted before that loving stare. And laughed. "You're right, Honey. Between you, Marian, Belinda and Jason I'm not getting a whole lot of rest, am I?" "I love you, Marla," whispered the blonde. "And I love you, too, Sweetheart. And you aren't really weird." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ She broke her reverie and addressed Marian once more. "I have to give Virginia the freedom she needs to love Jason, Marian, and I must loosen my own relationship with her. Both of them have been so sweet and concerned for me and how I would take it, but I know full well that they are in love with each other." "So you need to give it some thought, Marla, and decide what you want to say and do. Just please know that I want to make this as easy for you as possible. I've never been jealous of your relationship with your son or your affection for Jason. You and Belinda and I have something really precious in our love for each other, but Jason and Virginia are the center of this now and both are very dear to us. Just let me know...." She broke off her remark, rose from her seat opposite her supervisor and walked toward Marla who stood and moved to close the office door; she then turned to her young employee and lover. They embraced, kissing hungrily and deeply, and as they did so Marian dropped her hands from Marla's waist to cup her bottom hardly concealed by the tiny skirt. "You are so sexy, Darling," she whispered to Marla. "Never do I want to trade on our love, but there are times when it is so difficult to keep from simply grabbing you regardless of where we are. Wherever you go today, you know you are going to be a great hazard to everyone else around you." "I wish I didn't enjoy it quite so much! I'm trying to be chaste and graceful and not deliberately...." "Marla! You must be joking," laughed Marian who broke off their embrace. "I felt your rosebud. Honey, you are enough of a threat when you display those gorgeous muscled legs. Anybody can see the curve of that perfect ass. When they see that jewel sparkling between those luscious buns, don't be surprised if you must call for help. Chaste! Graceful!" She moved back several steps and examined Marla once more. "And I can almost see your fur from here in front of you. If you bend in the slightest or even sit down, Marla, everyone is going to see everything. Yum-yum! So with all due respect to my employer, don't try that 'chaste' and 'graceful' and 'not deliberately' business. I did not fall off a tomato truck last night." "Oh, all right," drawled Marla with a laugh. "Please keep things going around here for me while I'm out. I'll be home around five, and we can spend some time by the pool. Yum-yum to you, too!" Marla bent close to the younger woman as she repeated what Marian had said a few moments earlier. She gently tugged at Marian's underarm hair, then re-opened the office door and strode down the hall. Marian craned her neck around the doorjamb long enough to see Marla walk toward the elevator. She was right...the tiny skirt hid very, very little. Marla's powerful tanned legs were a work of art. And she could see the lower curves of her ass with little effort. Frankly, she could never explain how Marla avoided being arrested and charged with indecent exposure at least twice each day. That had occurred only once that she knew of and the occasion was several years ago. "Yeeessh!" she said under her breath as she stepped back into the office, smiling at Tommy Denton the mail clerk coming down the hall. He waved back and rolled his eyes upward in a gesture of admiration when Marian saw him staring after Marla. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The pleasant caress of warm updrafts from the asphalt of the parking lot bathed Marla's legs, ass and pussy as she walked toward her 2007 Mustang. The collage of sensations was erotic and she felt herself moisten lightly as she strode across the pavement. She could tell that she was definitely visible, for the soft tight little skirt touched her ass at its lower curve and the breezes ruffled her fur with a delightfully flirty touch. Marla had drilled into her staff her conviction that complete nudity usually was much less sensuous, less erotic and sexually powerful than partially concealed physical assets. Though she enjoyed being nude around others, she also knew that her own experience and her company's product surveys were solidly behind partial nudity as far more sexually arousing. For that reason, more than just her son's return from college and their deepening love affair, she had grown the glossy mat of black fur to conceal her pussy while she almost always wore extremely short dresses and skirts that displayed her legs and femininity. She rarely dressed in tops that had no fasteners; instead, Marla knew she had a much more powerful effect in her sweaters and blouses left partially open and without her wearing a brassiere. Or with open-tip bras, or lacy things of beauty that supported her breasts from the side, increasing her already-delicious cleavage and leaving her nipples uncovered. She was careful to protect her large breasts with various styles of support bras at times such as her physical workouts and running. To this day she could recall her mother cautioning her as a young teen to take care of her breasts. "Remember, Darling, you don't want to have carrot boobs." "Mom, what are carrot boobs?" "Sweetheart, those are what happen to women who don't protect their breasts and the muscles around them. If you don't support them then they will droop and become long until they look like carrots. You're going to have beautiful breasts, Marla. Take care of them, make love to them, hold them and put lotion on them. And support them." Carrot boobs was obviously a curse on the magnitude of smallpox, one that a woman must avoid at all costs. When she was clean-shaven she wore bras and thongs that satisfied her desire to expose herself. Then when she had begun to grow back her fur the thongs got lost in her forest. So...when she worked out or ran she ceased wearing any bottom whatever. Dressing out meant in the loosest definition of the term that she would appear on the gym floor or on the track wearing a racer-back support top and bra, cushioned white running socks and good shoes...and nothing else. Her gym, after an initial and fruitless effort to persuade her to wear something, had long since become accustomed to Marla's exposure in Pilates, weight-lifting sessions and on the running track, had ceased trying to put a stop to it, and had even accepted the other women who were also driven to bare themselves. Besides, it was good for business. The gym's one success in its 'Marla Wars' was that it limited the partially nude sessions to adults. Marla had legs to die for. For years she had walked and exercised with a Stair-Stepper and a Bowflex Home Gym. The first time she ever heard another woman say, "I think women with muscles are sexy," she was hooked on working out. Her legs were smooth, powerful with well-developed calf and thigh muscles that rippled sensually and attracted both men and women. Her arms, shoulders, abdomen, back and lats were developed in a sleek and obvious yet feminine manner. Marla thoroughly enjoyed her body and though she was natural in her bearing, she deliberately dressed in a manner that heightened her sexuality.. She was a woman of very few restraints. She pressed the unlock button for her door and turned to slide in beneath the wheel. Everything she had was bare as she turned and sat down inside the driver's cockpit, then drew her legs inside; the wonderful skirt was of no use whatever as it rode up her hips. The warm leather surface of the seat was comfortable to her thighs and bottom. "I'm sure I'll wet my seat," she said with a giggle. "I hope this pleases my son when we meet in a few minutes. I may not be able to keep my hands off that gorgeous creature." She smiled as she drove out of the lot and headed for the beach. Marla's thoughts drifted to her and Marian's new housemate, Belinda Spicer. Belinda was nearing her eighteenth birthday and had moved in with Marla, Marian and Virginia two years before. Her parents next door had come to Marla asking if she might reside with them during her last year in high school and as many of her college years as they found convenient to have her. The Spicers would pay her expenses, of course. Belinda's grandmother and grandfather both had suffered strokes one week apart and would require their on-the-scene oversight in Kansas City even though the elderly pair were now in a fine complete care facility. They were moving to Missouri in a week. Marla was acquainted with Belinda though not well. The girl had been friendly and courteous the few times they'd met. She was agreeable to living with the women and Virginia if they wanted her, probably, Marla figured, because she wanted to stay in Palm Beach and go to school and was willing to make any sacrifice to do so. Even if that included living with the next-door neighbors. The first afternoon the sixteen-year-old had spent at their house was both fun and eye-opening. She was much more than a teen-age potted plant and her vocabulary exceeded that of most of the adults with whom Marla and Marian did business. She was a true redhead about five feet and three inches tall with a gorgeous fall of rich curls that reached her shoulders. Marian and Marla invited her to join them beside the pool that afternoon, but decided to vary their usual attire, nudity, with very brief swimwear from the Prism line of beach styles. Much to their surprise, the teen appeared in a soft blue thong bottom and no top. Marla was privately embarrassed at the way her heart leaped with excitement when Belinda emerged onto the apron surrounding the pool. "I think I'm right about really being a lesbian," she muttered to herself. "I cannot seem to resist chasing a skirt regardless of her age." Her new houseguest had obviously exercised well, for even at sixteen her muscles were attractively defined. Belinda had deep green eyes like pools of seawater in her lovely young face. Her breasts were shapely but not large with fat and pointed nipples that reminded Marla of small breasts sitting atop larger ones Though Belinda was not aroused they stood out so sharply that they demanded immediate attention. "Oh, you beautiful girl," Marla thought with another twinge of guilt. "You must be absolutely delicious in a tight sweater." Belinda smiled cheerfully and seemed to not even notice that the two women had on a lot more than she. Marian and Marla looked at each other, then proceeded to make themselves comfortable with their house guest. That first afternoon grew into a thoroughly enjoyable living experience that lasted to the present day. She had a very, very light tan that was due mostly to a sprinkling of small cinnamon freckles over her entire body. Her pretty rounded shoulders and arms, narrow waist with sexy wide hips and strong legs made Marla's mouth water in appreciation. "Honey," muttered Marla to herself, "is it just great genes or do you girls all meet shortly after birth and collectively decide that you are going to take something that grows your boobs and bodies in some mysterious way that never happened to the rest of us?" Their doubts and misgivings about what a teenager in their home could do to the enjoyable quiet and good humor were allayed over the months that sped by. Belinda had her own car, a small Chevrolet Cobalt, but had a very serious streak in her. She studied hard, didn't date a lot and the following year was graduated third in her high school class. When she did go out with someone it was always a female friend. She willingly shared household duties once they were requested of her, something that astounded the two residents of the attractive rambling single-story home backed up on the canal. One of Virginia's unvarnished observations before Belinda's arrival was a bet that they'd give her the boot in two weeks, mainly because she would not be willing to share those responsibilities that make a nice home a really grand one. Since that time Virginia had publicly backed away from her attitude, had actually told Belinda about it one day when they'd gone out shopping, and they two of them had laughed about it ever since. Marla had one of the more unexpected jolts of her life when she and Belinda were walking on the beach one afternoon. Both had shed their beach jackets and wore only brightly flowered monokinis. Out of the corner of her eye Marla was thoroughly enjoying watching the teen's boobs quiver seductively, each fat nipple forming nearly a third of its breast. The girl must have been sexually aroused now because the nipples were swollen and firm. Belinda in turn never ceased admiring Marla's rich black bush that contrasted so dramatically with her white hair, her great breasts and her talons that at the moment were painted a moist red. There was an interruption in their conversation that lengthened into a silence as the two women strolled aimlessly down the beach. At one point when Belinda jumped inward toward Marla to avoid a small wavelet that seemed to chase her up the beach their hands touched, then found each other again and held fast. They walked on, enjoying the stares of other sunbathers, and continued holding hands. Finally, Marla spoke softly and with a hesitation she had never before felt. "Belinda, I...um...I don't want to force anything on you. This is exciting to me, very, very pleasing, but I wouldn't for the world want anything to interrupt our friendship. I mean...do you understand what I'm trying to say?" The eighteen year-old stopped, turned to Marla as she grasped her left hand, and said with the utmost seriousness, "Marla, I have never been as comfortable in the presence of an older woman as I am with you. Please don't feel uneasy about this." Marla, quite surprised with the girl's forthrightness and ease, stared at her, this time at a loss for words. Several things hit her at once. She was extremely attracted to this older teen-who-didn't-act-like-a-teen, she was aroused by the fact that Belinda could so easily explain herself, and she remembered her thought from the first time Belinda had appeared topless at their pool, about chasing a skirt regardless of the woman's age.Can it be that...? She thought to herself. "What are you saying?" Marla asked in such a way that her question would not frighten off the girl from responding. "Marla, I have been attracted to you since the first time by the pool when I walked out without a bra and I saw the expression in your eyes. I thought I had all worked out what I would say if this time ever came, and now I don't know what to say." "Well, why don't we walk some more? Because what you said thrills me. I never imagined such a thing would be possible between us." The girl quickly embraced her and kissed her deeply. Marla felt the wet lash of a tongue as it shot into her mouth and then withdrew. Her reaction was immediate. She held Belinda, crushing her breasts with her own as she held her face with both hands. Their kiss was again deep and this time lasted much longer than the first. Neither woman spoke afterward for several moments. In that time Belinda led Marla out into the warm surf where she locked her legs about the older woman and kissed her again, fondling the big breasts as she did so. Marla returned from her interlude as she pulled into the parking lot near the beach wall where she was to meet Virginia. There were four of them in her home now, the two lesbians, herself and Virginia. She realized quietly as she parked and emerged from her Mustang that she no longer had a hesitation about releasing Virginia to Jason. She knew that she and Virginia would always be in love and would retain their intimacy, but now she wanted to commit herself to her women. Moreover, she knew that Virginia and Jason longed for each other and had been in love for some time. She was interrupted by several loud whistles as two young men and a girl stared at her exposure with unbelieving and hungry expressions. She smiled and walked toward the wall where she had noted Virginia was standing. Marla was always taken aback by her son's beauty. He looked to be one of the loveliest women she had ever seen and today was no exception. The gorgeous young shemale wore a loose peasant-type blouse, coarse of weave, white and almost transparent. Its neckline plunged deeply, revealing most of her assets. When Virginia moved toward her, arms outstretched, one of her breasts completely escaped the blouse. As it bounced with her movements sunlight glinted from a nipple ring. Virginia wore tight black short shorts that displayed her cock and balls in an enviable, well-defined package standing out from between her thighs. A pair of high block heeled sandals completed her sexy outfit. Her heavy blonde mane fell to her ass, unbound and covering her entire back as if it were a cloak of gold. "Marla, hi, Dear!" Virginia wrapped her mother in a tight embrace and Marla felt soft fingers caressing her ass, touching her rosebud, gently turning its jeweled head and moving the larger shape of the instrument inside her. The sensation was arousing and sexy. Jason had no idea what he had coming in this shemale lover. But he'd be grateful. He would, indeed! "Oh, Virginia, honey, I am so thankful to see you again...especially since it was last night. Such a long time, baby!" Marla grinned at her with a lascivious glint in her eyes. "See what I mean?" the blonde shot back. "You are the cause of most of your overwork." "My beautiful boy...girl...boy-girl...girl-boy...chick-with-a-dick...you wonderful and delightful creature! I love you so. I'll even surrender this argument just to keep from having to think so hard. Besides, I want to talk with you about Jason." Marla enjoyed the obvious struggle, evidenced by her expression, that the blonde beauty beside her was having in deciding whether to make a juicy retort to the grocery list of names or the subject of primary interest, her lover Jason. Finally, Jason won out. "All right. Why don't we go to the Pineapple Boat and get coffee or something else. Since you are so kind as to give up arguing with me this time, I'll buy. And I can see from the variety of titles you just heaped on me that this is a day when you are somewhat uncertain of my identity. How could anyone be unsure of who and what I am?" You sexy smart-ass, Marla thought to herself. I'll bet you know exactly what I'm thinking. Despite the almost endless possibilities for sexually explicit banter in response to her son's reply, Marla resisted heroically and placed both fisted hands on her hips in a mock display of aggravation. Virginia smiled brightly, knowing full well that she had once more bested her mother in a conversation loaded with sexual overtones, took hold of Marla's hand and led her down the sidewalk to the seaside restaurant a football field's distance along the beach. Following the predictable stir among diners who gaped at Marla's exposure and her son's sensuality, or decided to be offended at her exposure and her son's sensuality, or were sexually aroused with her exposure and her son's sensuality, they ordered at their table by the sea and then fell into their conversation. "Virginia, I know that you and Jason love each other. Before he met you he had never been involved with someone like you. Then he fell for you, and lover, I never minded that. Do you understand, Virginia?" Giving Away Virginia Holton Virginia was silent for a few seconds, then softly replied, "Yes. I do. You and I have been in love since we left Brazil, Mother. You knew about Sean when we were lovers at the university and you welcomed me home when he died of cancer. Nothing will ever change what we have." She took Marla's hand in her own and gently stroked the talons that were her fingernails. Marla always felt as if she were having sex with Virginia when her son did this with those lengthening nails. Virginia held her hand and traced the line of each nail in its graceful and delicate curve from the end of each finger. "Honey," said Marla, "I want to release you to be with Jason permanently. He truly loves you, I know you love him deeply, and we'll always have each other to turn to. I've known you'd fall in love with another man since you left Texas...I've wanted that for you." Virginia stared at Marla with intense blue eyes. "Are you sure you want this? Because if there is any doubt I will remain with you, Marla. You know that." "I have no hesitation, angel. I want you and Jason to have each other and not simply have to make love at our house or somewhere else when you are away." Virginia was quiet for a time. Then she said, "Thank you, Marla. Thank you. I want you to know that we will remain here in Palm Beach and that things will go on with Prism as they are now. You'll just have your company chick-with-a-dick and her man rather than me alone!" Virginia grinned broadly and bent to kiss the back of Marla's hand. When she did so her loose blouse shifted again to expose her breast; she did nothing to re-cover herself, ignoring the whispers from diners nearby. "You are my eternal tease," laughed her mother. "Does Jason know what he has in store with you? And does it bother him that you are as you so delicately describe yourself...'the company chick-with-a-dick'?" "No. He loves me and I love him. And he has a grand sense of humor, as you already know. I honestly believe that he is even more gentle, more kind and tender to me than was Sean. But, Darling, have you talked with Jason about all of this?" "Yes, Baby, he and I spent a lot of time this past weekend going over this. He's always known of your and my relationship. He never even came close to objecting at any time. In fact, Jason has only encouraged me to deepen your and my love for each other. Still, he wants you and I want you two to have each other." "I love that man so very, very much," whispered Virginia with a dreamy expression. "Mother, you've understood that I have desired him...how did you handle it? I mean, you and he have been lovers since not long after we arrived in Palm Beach. How did you keep from being jealous...or...or resentful? A lot of people would despise a member of their family or a lover for falling for someone of the same sex rather than them. And especially when that other person is your boyfriend, as you so playfully call him. Oooo...honey, he is anything but a boy!" Marla thought about this one. When Virginia was in a pensive mood quick rejoinders and what she called "7-11 replies," easy, convenient answers, only aggravated her and increased her determination to get a response to her question right then. "Beautiful boy, and you are hardly a boy, either, but you know what I mean, I think it is a combination of several things. I really do love you, and loving you implies that I want what is best for you, not merely what makes me feel good or that which satisfies my desires. Moreover, you know how much I enjoy women, particularly Marian and Belinda. Yes, I am intimate with many of my friends and even with some of our employees...and I'm wondering if I need to cease that," Marla interrupted her own train of thought. "Seriously, I want you to be happiest, and that means Jason. Moreover, I want to give myself completely to my girls. Do you understand me, Baby?" "I do, Marla. I adore you, I am grateful to you, and I hope that you understand that our intimacies don't cease with what is happening. Jason knows that you and I are always bound." For the next hour they drank more coffee and lemonade as they planned what Virginia wanted for an extremely unusual reception at their home. If our friends and the employees at Prism survive this experience, Marla thought, they can outlast anything. Before they rose to depart Virginia sprang one last surprise on Marla. "Mother, are you aware that Belinda's parents put their house next door to us on the market yesterday? Jason and I want to buy it...if, that is, it's okay with you." That caught Marla napping. Ordinarily she was up on local events in both their part of town and in Palm Beach itself. But Belinda probably wasn't aware of it, and no one else would have known. "Oh, Baby, that is perfect! We promise to leave you two alone...," she began when she was interrupted by Virginia. "Yeah, you do that, Marla, at your peril!" the blonde shot back. "The last thing he and I want is to distance ourselves from you. We both know how you are, how courteous and gracious you are. We want to be close to you and those lovers of yours. After all, they are a part of us, too. And besides, ...." Virginia truncated her sentence with a perfectly lustful expression. Virginia stared directly at her; finally, Marla nodded meekly but with a heart full of excitement. She motioned to the girl who was their server, requested their bill, and tipped her. Marla made a serious effort to keep from baring her curves and fur completely when she stood, but she failed miserably. Her skirt simply could not cover her bottom and thighs. As she stood the tiny leather skirt drew tight across the bend of her thighs, displaying her glossy black muff and evenly tanned flesh. The expressions on several women's and men's faces were a fascinating mix of astonishment, envy and desire as they walked to the front of the restaurant. They were uncertain that they had actually just witnessed what they thought they had seen. These observing patrons displayed pure lust for the middle-age beauty leavened by private embarrassment that they had yearned for Marla with such fiery intensity. Virginia had seen this sort of display of nudity many times before but had never ceased to both wonder at and be aroused by Marla's casual attitude toward it. She was neither deliberate in her exhibitionism nor hesitant in allowing it to continue as she made whatever moves were natural in the situation at hand. Marla was the most sensuous, risqué woman Virginia had ever known because of the ease with which she bore herself in her clothing and in situations where others would have at the most flashed themselves, then rushed to cover up. In contrast, the director of Prism Designs was thoroughly comfortable baring herself in just about any circumstances and anywhere and remaining that way if she was comfortable. Virginia felt herself harden and glanced down at her tight black shorts. Sure enough, the lump between her thighs had enlarged into a very nice outward bulge despite the strength of what she called her 'power thong.' She wore one on those occasions when she dressed in extremely tight shorts or close-fitting dresses. There was, however, a limit to the capability of this item in Prism's line of sensuous underwear. In her own experience Virginia usually drew her cock back between her legs when donning tight dresses. Her thong would conceal her nine-inch penis and furry ball sac, leaving her abdomen flat. To say that this was uncomfortable was an understatement. When she wore shorts, however, she enjoyed the sensation of filling its pouch with her cock and balls and allowing her assets to form a delicious soft mound in front of her thighs. It was when she hardened that all bets and good intentions were off. There was a point beyond which a fat nine-inch penis simply could not be concealed. She would swell uncontrollably and then there was not the slightest question about what this blonde beauty had between her legs. Virginia admitted to herself often that she was extremely excited by this experience and the reactions of others as they recognized what they saw before them on this blonde vision. "Don't you dare pretend to be embarrassed," chided Virginia on the porch, pointing down to her enviable swelling. "You show off everything, you cause this with your tiny skirts and that ass and pussy, and then you try to hide yourself. I need to hire somebody to control you, Mother!" she hissed. "My ladies will handle that delightful problem," Marla replied brightly with a matching smile. "And, my! but you do have a problem there, don't you?" She touched her son's face with her hooks, drawing them across Virginia's lips as she smiled. She glanced at the blonde's loose blouse and the breasts, heavy and almost bare. "Angel, let's plan your and Jason's evening for two weeks from this Friday. Meanwhile, I'll speak with him about our meeting. He loves me, I know, but he is truly in love with you and needs you, Virginia." Mother and son kissed, then each returned to her own car. As they parted Virginia clasped Marla's hand to her breast and whispered, "Thank you, Darling. I do so look forward to your sharing in his and my night of joy. Although I know you have every intention of doing so, I'll ask anyway...please wear something really, really sexy." "Well, that'll take some thought. I don't have a whole lot and...." Her light response brought rolled eyes and a hand wave-off from Virginia who didn't even bother to reply. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Marla enlisted the aid of Belinda and Marian in preparations. After a planning session each woman went about her responsibilities and had only incidental contact with the others. Belinda, though a teenager, had a natural talent for decoration and prepared the large bedroom and dining areas with an artist's flourish. Virginia and Jason would receive their guests for dinner, sixteen employees of Prism Design, the six who now staffed Virginia's Pussy Pins offshoot of the organization and eight additional friends. Then they would invite them to their large bedroom where each would be seated in a circle of chairs surrounding the bed. Marla had left Virginia's and Jason's dress to the two of them. The lovers would enter the room after all guests were seated and would not formally recognize anyone there. Though the night was theirs, at this point Marla threatened both with bodily harm if either looked once at observing guests during their loving and intercourse. Marla carried on a one-woman, determined war in Prism Designs about models who, while engaging in the most erotic of acts, would cock an eye at the camera or at someone else out of sight. Few things angered her outright like this gaffe that she believed only cheapened an otherwise sensuous photo shoot. In her unvarnished opinion models' looks at the camera were idiotic and removed virtually all of the sensuality a picture would otherwise possess. Virginia and Jason would converse between themselves as if they were alone and would proceed in whatever fashion they desired to undress, to move to the bed and to share their affections. They had both wanted to share their night with others, but those others would not be recognized that evening. In short, it was to be a honeymoon night carried out in a sensuous setting, the midst of a circle of their friends who would observe their every move in courteous silence. Every guest understood that the purposes of the event were Virginia's and Jason's joy and pleasure, and they would restrain themselves to their own affections and to caresses of those on either side so as to not distract anyone else from Virginia and Jason. Marian coordinated the preparation of the evening dinner and cooked part of it herself. She had to order in a temporary additional table to be placed in the guest bedroom; she relocated the dining room table to the living room. Her purpose was to heighten the erotic aura of the event by having the guests eat in places other than where they would expect dinner to be served. Each guest received an embossed invitation: Marla Holton Invites You To An Erotic Interlude for Her Daughter Virginia Holton and Jason Sanders At Her Home, 12 Seaspray Drive, Palm Beach, Florida On August 16 At Five O' Clock In the Evening A small insert the size of a business card carried an additional notation: Guests Are Requested to Wear A Form of Dress That Heightens Their Sexual Desires and Expresses Their Sensuality With all of the arrangements complete a day ahead of schedule each woman spent early Friday selecting her clothing for the evening. As Marla expected Marian chose something that would expose her shapely body, hairy thighs and underarm fur. She wore an expensive light gray short dress with a high rolled collar; it was sleeveless and edged with an unusual and very intricate design. The form hugging mini-dress concealed just a bit more than the lower curves of her delicious hard butt and displayed her hairy thighs to perfection. Spiked heel leathers brought out the muscles in her legs. Her light tan heightened the effect. She wore no underwear. Belinda selected a knee-length lime hued see-through dress with long sleeves and a neckline that plunged to her waist. She, too, wore spiked heel shoes that matched her dress. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting with the cinnamon cast of her lightly freckled skin. Her breasts were bare for the dress was designed to reveal, certainly not to conceal. Their plump tips, even more swollen because of her arousal tonight, provided an attention-grabbing and sexy display by the teenage lesbian. Her red pubic bush was faintly visible through the thin dress. Marla was herself. She was completely bare to her waist and wore a diaphanous pair of black pantaloons sans underwear over black spiked-heel shoes. She had painted her talon-like nails a wet red to match her lipstick and she wore only one piece of jewelry, a black velvet choker with a three-carat canary diamond suspended in its setting by a short chain that did not quite meet the outward curves of her breasts. Her long crinkly white hair was parted down the middle and formed a huge wavy blanket over her back and shoulders in striking contrast to her black pantaloons. She could not recall ever having felt the raw and vibrant sensuality that now gripped her. The comfortable atmosphere felt divine upon her naked torso and there was just enough coolness to harden her nipples to long little posts. She was the locus of attention of everyone in the room. As each guest arrived one of the women met him or her at the door and escorted them directly to the location where they had been assigned a seat. Their greeting included a soft kiss on the mouth and a word of welcome for their presence. True to her nature, Marla found a reason to 'naturally' touch each guest's arm with one of her breasts. As she had hoped, each guest was a study in sensuality openly displayed yet gracefully shown. One forty year-old wife and mother of three wore a light green floor length gown that was backless from her neck to a point well below the upper cleft of her shapely bottom. Her date was a female friend who wore a short denim skirt that emphasized glorious legs and a short denim jacket open to its bottom button. Her breasts, thought Marian, were fit for display at the Smithsonian. Prism's public relations manager, Jack Spires, wore a light gray pullover shirt that exhibited his fit form and a pair of light wool slacks. His wife, Victoria, wore a lovely cranberry gown that was split in back from the lower curve of her beautiful ass to the floor. There was nothing else beneath save her glistening flesh. The Spires' daughter Helen, a slender yet shapely seventeen-year-old, accompanied them and seemed entirely at ease, dressed as she was in a ribbed, gray long-sleeve turtleneck half sweater that just barely covered her generous breasts and left bare her midriff. A pendant of a two-inch chain holding a circle of emerald chips in yellow gold danced from her navel ring. Low cut white slacks outlined perfectly her cute ass, a task made somewhat easier by the fact that she wore no underwear. Black patent leather spike heel shoes made her look more mature. As she moved about the room, interacting with obvious pleasure with the adults present, bending and gesturing eagerly, her sweater shook delectably. Yet another middle-age woman and her younger female date removed their matching pale blue dusters to reveal complete nudity. Arnie Rogers and his wife Adrianne were accompanied by a handsome young man several years their junior. Husband and wife held hands with the attractive young man as they talked and laughed animatedly. Belinda noted that during the time she noticed the trio the younger man kissed both Rogers, smiling and eyeing each with an expression that communicated much more than mere friendship. Marianwas taken aback when Jasmine Healy, publicity coordinator for Prism, and Rachel Montague, the company's advertising director, appeared together at the door, laughing and caressing each other as if they simply could not wait for the evening to be over in order to be elsewhere together. As the hosts assisted with guests' coats and jackets the sensuality factor of the women rose astronomically. Some were topless as was Marla, while others wore revealing styles of the Prism lines. Belinda kissed one of her friends, touched the woman's breast and discovered one of Virginia's new nipple rings with its pendant from her Pussy Pins collection. Even the men, though completely dressed, had an aura of sensuality because of the Prism styles and because of the overall impact of the gathering itself. The entire evening had begun just as the hosts had hoped it would, lighthearted and with a touch of the erotic as guests felt comfortable enough to share intimate touches and glances without embarrassment or restraint. At one point just before dinner Belinda cornered Marian in a hallway and embraced her. "Do I need to put a chain on you, Honey? I've seen the way people look for a reason to touch you and pass their hands over those gorgeous hairy thighs." Marian laughed and covered one of the girl's breasts with her hand. The nipple was firm and stood well out from its breast. "I don't think so" she replied softly. "I belong to you and Marla, Baby. Guess I'm just being loose tonight." The brunette thought momentarily of the discussion about breasts she and Belinda had had only the past week when sharing personal notes. Belinda was driving them to Lowe's Home Improvements for a toilet valve to replace the one that had unceremoniously and with considerable violence erupted in the main bathroom. "Marian, you and Marla love my boobs the way they are, but you'd be surprised at the number of people who have said something to me about getting implants to make them bigger." "Yeah, well there's no shortage of people who have twenty-five new and different ways to make your body better in the most painful ways imaginable. I love them...if you don't mind my being so bold as to say so." She glanced with a glint of humor in her dark eyes at the redhead driving their SUV. "I'd never even consider having a boob job on these. I'm proud of them. And how many girls do you know who have really fat nipples like mine? Some are pointed, and they're pretty; but mine are so plump and pointed that they are almost half of my boobs. I don't wanta be bigger. I enjoy me the way I am. I love my babies," she announced with finality. So much for a very mature eighteen-year-old, thought Marian as Belinda and she walked into the massive store. Imagine being thoroughly satisfied with yourself. This babe has the unmitigated gall to consciously reject the Baywatch syndrome of tits that resemble blimps and settle for those totally luscious beauties with those amazing puffies. Gonna eat you, girl, she giggled to herself.