0 comments/ 64268 views/ 1 favorites Chameleon Pt. 01 By: Sacred Beauty One by one they all toasted Camille's twenty sixth birthday, everyone that is except her boyfriend Brandon. He was still acting like a spoiled child. She ignored him and looked around at her group of friends. "Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot...especially since this is a work night." Sabrina stood up and grabbed her coat. "It's cool, Camille, like I said before you only turn thirty once." she said sarcastically. "Bitch, please, you are the oldest heifer in this group. That's why you guys are leaving so early." She stood and hugged her. When Camille looked up from her shoulder, she noticed a woman at the bar staring into her face. The stranger flashed a warm smile, which Camille returned. "She is an old heifer," Damon teased, grabbing Camille's attention by planting a sloppy peck on the cheek. "Did she tell you guys that she found a gray hair the other night? Sabrina went buck wild until I pulled it out." "No shit?" Camille covered her mouth with her hand and looked over at her embarrassed friend, "...and you are only twenty seven. I'm checking through my hair tonight." Damon looked around the table. "Does anyone need a ride home?" "I do," Felicia said as she grabbed her sweater. "It's only ten o'clock guys," the birthday girl whined. "Yeah, and we all have to be at work at eight so have a good night," Damon chuckled. "I'll see you at home, Felicia. Leave the lights on for me." Felicia made eye contact with Sabrina and then pointed to the restroom. She headed off in that direction as Damon and Sabrina walked towards the exit that led to the parking lot. Camille smiled as she watched her best friend and her man leave the bar. Sabrina met Damon two years ago at the farmers' market that they hold downtown on Saturdays. Sabrina told her that she set her backpack on the sidewalk to tie her shoe when Damon came riding along and ran into it. He flipped over the handlebars, and a bush broke his fall. Being the wimp that she is, Sabrina fled the scene with Camille's roommate Felicia. A week later she was reading the personal ads in the local newspaper and read something directed at her. In the Missed Meetings section, there was an ad that read: Looking for the green eyed cutie in the black mini skirt that made me crash my bike. You said: watch where you're going. I said: I was too busy watching you. Then you left with a woman around the same age as you. Let's hook up once my cuts and bruises heal. We can do dinner, movie...I'll even pay. Sabrina contacted Damon at the email address in the ad, and the rest is history. Brandon snapped her out of her thoughts, "Are you still mad at me?" "I'll be mad at you tomorrow; I just want to have a good time tonight. A birthday only comes once a year you know." He gave her a half-hearted smile that made her sadder then happy because she could see that it was forced. "Camille I have to get up early too, you know." She rolled her eyes, "If you want to leave, you don't have to make excuses." "My commute is forty five minutes each way. That's the only reason I didn't want to come out tonight." "I'm sorry my birthday is such a chore for you," Camille snapped. "You didn't complain about your commute when you played pool with your friends twice last week. If I'm not mistaken, both times were on work nights." "Are you coming with me or not?" Brandon rolled his bottom lip into his mouth as he waited for her answer. He hoped the answer was yes. "I'll take a cab home," Camille answered dryly. "I was born at eleven twenty and it's only after ten." Brandon stood and zipped his jacket. He did it slowly hoping his stubborn girlfriend would change her mind but she didn't. Now he would have to jack off instead of enjoying her. Even though he was frustrated, he tried to save face. "Suit yourself." Camille laughed out loud when Brandon left her sitting there alone. After waiting ten minutes for the waitress, she gathered her things and took a seat at the long honey colored bar. The stranger watched Camille's every move and marveled at her subtle sexiness. "Hi." "Hi." The lady extended her hand, "My name is Maxine Turner." "I'm Camille Young." "It looks like you had quite a party going on over there." "Yeah, it's my birthday," she admitted. "No shit...it's my birthday too." Maxine was stunned by the coincidence. Maybe that could be her opening. Camille turned towards her, "You're joking?" "No." Maxine reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet so Camille did the same. They exchanged ID cards and then erupted in alcohol induced giggles. "This calls for a celebration. How about a birthday drink? I'll buy yours if you'll buy mine." "You've got yourself a deal," Camille said, signaling the bartender. At eleven twenty, the minute she was born, she pulled out her cell phone to call a cab. "Where do you live?" "Not too far away but it's kind of late to be out walking." She thought for a moment, "It's chilly out there, too." "I can give you a ride. I don't mind...really." Maxine let her eyes travel over Camille's body. She was wearing a rust colored dress that fit in all the right places. It was so form sitting that Maxine could see the outline of Camille's bra with great detail. She wondered if this stranger had meaty nipples and hoped for dark areolas since she considered that appealing. Maxine bit her lip as she was being drawn into her fantasy. What she wouldn't give to have her face smothered by this stranger's tits. Camille broke Maxine's trance, "How much have you had to drink?" "Two glasses of wine," Maxine gave Camille a reassuring look. Forty minutes later they were parked in front of Camille's building. "Thanks again for the ride." "No problem. Consider it my birthday gift to you." Camille opened the car door and started to get out when she felt Maxine's hand on her arm. For a split second she felt uncomfortable because of the look on her face. Maxine quickly put her at ease. "I forgot to ask, where you got that purse?" "Actually, it's my roommates. I can ask her in the morning if you like. Why don't you give me your number?" Maxine knew exactly what she was doing when she reached over to Camille's side of the car to open the glove compartment. "Ok and I will get yours too, maybe we can have a drink sometime. You seem like a night owl, but your group of friends all left early." "Please don't remind me of those party poopers," Camille huffed. "Don't worry, I can hang all night," Maxine teased with sexual innuendo. She gave that strange look again as she scratched out her name and number on a scrap of paper. When she leaned towards Camille to replace the pen, her hand grazed Camille's lap. Camille gave a nervous smile but her eyes traveled downward from Maxine's face to her over spilling cleavage. Her breasts were swaying gently as she fiddled with the lock on the glove box. Camille briefly thought of her boyfriend as a warm feeling swept through her body. Maxine knew what the look on Camille's face was. It was a conflicted look of curiosity and horniness. Maxine tightened her pussy muscles a few times to keep that same feeling going in her own body. She couldn't wait to get home and pound her pussy with her dildo until her neighbors wondered if she could she take any more. Maxine shifted her ass in the driver's seat as her panties became soaked from the thought. Camille recognized her own feelings of horniness but felt that she couldn't call Brandon since they had fought at the bar. When she caught herself staring down Maxine's blouse, she got out of the car and took a deep breath of the crisp night air. They exchanged numbers through the window and then Camille went inside. There was a note from Felicia on the fridge. It reminded Camille to leave her ten dollars for the take out food earlier that evening. Camille was reluctant since her roommate had suggested the splurge and called it her birthday dinner. To Camille that was false advertising. Instead of bitching about it, she grabbed her wallet to get the money and laughed to herself. In the slot where her ID usually sat was Maxine's identification. They had switched them by mistake. Camille took a quick shower and then snuggled with herself as she replayed the night's events over in her head. After checking the birthday messages on her answering machine, she called Maxine to tell her of the mishap. A hazy voice answered. "Hello?" Camille cleared her throat. "Hello, is Maxine there?" "This is her." "This is Camille, Camille Young from tonight." "I was just thinking about you," Maxine answered breathlessly. "Were you?" Maxine found it difficult to continue masturbating. It was a delicate balance trying to hold the receiver, penetrate herself, and squeeze her nipples all at the same time. "I'm sorry...can you hold on a minute?" "Sure." Max muted the phone and then moaned into it. Imagining Camille could hear the sensual noises pushed her closer to the edge. Max rolled over onto her stomach and began to fuck her trusty sex toy. She dropped the phone on the bed as her breathing quickened and came all over her crisp white cotton sheets. Maxine continued to stroke her tender clit until it was numb from her pussy contracting. When normality returned, she unmated the phone and expressed appreciation to her unassuming muse. "Thank you." "For what?" She told a fib. "For holding on." "If you are busy, I can call tomorrow." "No, Camille, you called at the perfect time. I just needed to finish something." Max alluded. "I had a good time tonight. I had been wallowing in self pity before you came and sat beside me." "I'm glad I could brighten your day. The reason I was calling is because I accidentally took your ID." "Oh shit. Are you going to need yours for anything tomorrow? I can come back over." Camille rolled over towards the clock radio. "I'm already in bed." "You don't have anything I haven't seen before..." There was an awkward silence. "Maxine?" "Call me Max." "Well uh Max, we can meet up tomorrow if that's alright with you." "Sure, I'm over near the waterfront. Do you want to meet for lunch?" She suggested. "My studio is on Dawson Street." "Studio? Are you a photographer?" "No, I'm a painter." "Wow, I've never known any artists. Have you done anything I might recognize?" "Probably not. Over the last few years I have done mostly portraits. Lately, I have been concentrating on the human form." Camille had no idea what that meant so she abruptly changed the subject. "How about Lola's Bistro tomorrow at twelve thirty?" Maxine confirmed. "It's a date." Camille hung up the phone and smiled at the prospect of a new friend. After she turned the lights out, her thoughts drifted to Brandon as her hands traveled down between her thighs to relieve the horniness. She turned the lights back on when Maxine popped into her head. The fact that a woman was in her fantasy freaked her out. Every time Camille closed her eyes she clearly saw Maxine's face. The combination of her smile, her hand on her knee, and her cleavage were turning Camille on more so then thinking of Brandon. She started to get paranoid so she called him. Eventually, as Camille waited for her door to door dick service, she regretted the decision. Camille thought it was funny how he couldn't wait an hour to have a drink with her tonight, yet he would get up out of bed and drive across town to fill her ass with cum. Brandon used his key to get in and started undressing as he headed towards Camille's bedroom. While she waited for him to finish, she cleared her head. "Baby can I ask you something?" Brandon looked over at her. "Yeah." "You know how you go to the gym three times a week?" "Yeah," he answered. "Well, when you are in the locker room, do you ever look at the guys? Have you ever thought about men?" Camille's question sounded nonchalant and inconsequential. He shrugged, not understanding what she was getting at. "What do you mean?" "I mean like being with one? Fucking?" "Are you crazy? What would make you ask some shit like that?" he asked, coming towards the bed. Camille propped herself up on her elbows. "Calm down, it was just a question. I mean if you were in jail and were tired of jacking..." "...then my shit would shrivel up and fall off." Brandon's voice got really serious. "If I was in jail, I would fight someone to the death before I let him fuck me in the ass. The same thing goes for sucking a dick." He clarified, being paranoid about his sexuality when she was curious about her own. "Giving or receiving, fuck that." Camille pressed the issue. In her mind, if Brandon could just get past this macho bullshit, she could share her fantasy. After all, what man wouldn't want to hear about forbidden pleasures of girl on girl sex? Maybe this could lead to a threesome. "My theory is that if the lights were off, you wouldn't be able to tell if it was a man or a woman giving you head. Don't you think it would feel the same?" "Hell no!" Brandon snapped, "Don't you think I could tell the difference between some big titties or a hairy chest rubbing up against my thighs?" "Forget the thighs. I'm talking about sucking you off. I think a man could do it better because he knows what feels good. The reason I'm asking is because I met this woman..." Brandon cut Camille off. "Do I look like a dick sucker?" There was nothing about masculinity in a sex partner that turned him on. "Have you lost your damn mind?" She absolutely hated it when people used derogatory terms. "Brandon...I was just asking..." "Isn't our sex life good?" "Our sex is fine, the same as usual." Camille sighed, regretful that she had started the conversation. She knew deep down that he wasn't homophobic, just not open minded. Today was her birthday so she didn't feel the need to stroke a bruised ego. Her pussy had been throbbing for him but this fight was dissolving her horniness. Brandon was insulted that she questioned his manhood and got defensive. "It was more then fine, it was great. Don't act like you weren't moaning and shit." There was resentment in Brandon's voice now. He silently slipped off his boxers and then climbed on the bed and entered her with something to prove. To Camille, it felt like she was being mauled, not caressed. "Brandon baby slow down." He heard her but he wasn't listening. His dick had been hard for the whole drive over. "What did you call me over here for?" Brandon lifted her leg at the knee so that her body cradled his and kept on pumping. It had never felt so good being inside of her before. The sensation on his shaft was amazing. Only later did he realize that it was because in his excitement, he had neglected to put a rubber on. They were fucking skin to skin and he could feel every pussy muscle pulsing around him as he gained momentum. "It's my birthday. Can't I get a little foreplay?" Camille was used to their usual routine, which included finger action and oral sex. The shock and disappointment left her head because Brandon's rhythm felt good, but as he got rougher, her pleasure transformed to pain. "Brandon please..." She pushed up against his weight but was powerless to bring the encounter to an end. He seemed gripped with a sense of entitlement. "Would a gay guy fuck you like this?" A wave of pleasure washed over her as Brandon changed angles. Camille buried her face in the pillows and loudly moaned into them so that she wouldn't wake Felicia. Her warm flesh became hot against Brandon's and sweat began to crawl between them. Camille felt every inch of Brandon's dick. She gasped and shuddered as his thickness stretched and filled her. When Brandon lifted his head from her shoulder, she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. It was then that she realized that she hadn't been kissed yet. That fact made this whole experience impersonal. "Are..." she panted between thrusts, "Are you ok baby?" "Your pussy getting tired?" Brandon felt incredibly powerful. He had never dominated a woman before and it was an intense turn on. His dick was moving in and out so fast that a suction noise permeated the room. That, plus Camille's whimpers was keeping his dick harder then it had ever been. "Brandon baby lets change positions. Why don't we do it doggy?" They had had rough sex before and she had liked it, but this was somehow different. That realization made Camille want to get the experience over as quickly as possible. She lifted her hips up to meet each thrust of his hips. After a few minutes of that, her pussy was an inferno. Brandon started grunting like an animal. He was so into this forbidden type of sex that his actions became involuntary. Before he knew it he was talking dirty to her. Profane words were filling Camille's head too as her orgasm neared. She could tell by her boyfriend's face that he was about to cum and knew that he wasn't wearing a condom. "Pull out, Brandon." Camille began to beg. "Baby, please pull out quick before you cum..." She closed her legs to try and stop him from moving. "I will baby." She encouraged, "I'll give you head to finish you off." When he felt her maneuvering, he barked a command. "Open your goddamn legs." The concern in her face amused him. By now Camille was crying and moaning at the same time. She loved Brandon but not the sex they were having. The abundance of her fluid allowed Brandon to go deeper, so deep that Camille climaxed violently. She clutched the sheets and writhed as Brandon stiffened and came right after her. His creamy load shot into her slit and then oozed out combining with her juices. "Who's the man?" Camille just stared up into his face until his dick fully relaxed and shrunk out of her contracting pussy. Brandon held her gaze and waited for the answer to his question. "Who's the man?" he repeated with a softer voice. "You are." She felt obligated to answer even though she was at a loss for words. "You're the man, baby." Camille felt fragile as she rolled over to face the wall, deep in thought. He embraced her clammy body protectively as he analyzed their illicit act in his head. He had loved it but wasn't sure how she felt. He wondered if this encounter would change their monotonous sex life or would they pretend that it never happened. Brandon broke the silence and talked as though something questionable hadn't just happened between them. "Baby, are you awake? I was thinking, why don't you call in sick tomorrow so I can make up being such a jerk and leaving you at the bar?" Camille swallowed hard to force down the lump in her throat, "I...I have to go pick up my ID around lunch time." Hearing the catch in her voice, he sat up and looked at her, "What's the matter?" "Nothing," she said thinking of Maxine. ***** To be continued... Chameleon Pt. 02 Several days after the non-consensual sex with Brandon, Camille stood outside of the pale green building with brown trim near the waterfront and wondered if she should have called first. Against her better judgment, she rang the buzzer. There was no answer so she rang it again and then once again. When Maxine Turner finally answered the door she was pleasantly surprised. After all, Camille had cancelled their meeting earlier that week, yet here she was. The woman from the bar, who shared the same birthday smiled brightly. "Hello stranger." "Hello yourself," Camille answered, letting her breath escape like the steam from a pressure cooker. "I got your address from your ID. I hope it's ok that I just showed up like this." "It's more then ok. You were on my mind so I feel like I willed you to me." Camille didn't know how to respond to that. To her it sounded like some of her roommates new age crap. "This building reminds me of mint chip ice cream," she stammered. "The colors, you know..." Maxine cut her off, sensing the discomfort in the air. "No one has ever put it quite that way before. Why don't you come in?" She followed Camille up the flight of stairs focusing intently on the contours of her body. She thought that Brandon was lucky to have a woman with such a nice ass. "Is this your house or your art studio?" "It's a live work space. I live up here and work downstairs. That glass door at the street level leads directly to my work space and so does one in my wash room," Maxine said, pointing to the end of the hallway. "Would you like to see it?" The two of them headed that way and descended a spiral staircase and entered the large space. Maxine walked over to the kitchenette as they talked and came back with two glasses of red wine. Camille wandered around the open studio and looked at the paintings. There were a couple of families but most of them were individuals and they were actually quite good. There was a long black cloth draped over the back wall and in front of it was a three by ten platform. She took a seat on the structure, which was covered in the same fabric and had large pillows strewn about. "That's where I work." Max turned an easel around so that Camille could view the canvas. It was a nude man lying exactly where she was sitting. She choked on her wine as she sprang up from the platform. Suddenly Camille understood Max's comment about concentrating on the human form. "Are you ok?" "Yes." "Take off your blazer so we can clean it up." Camille was reluctant because she was wearing a sleeveless blouse and had bruises from last night. Maxine saw the marks on Camille's arms and became aroused, so much so that wetness seeped down into her panties. "You left the bar with me so is that from Brandon or another lover?" "Brandon stopped by to apologize after you dropped me off," she blushed. Max raised an eyebrow. "Did you accept his apology?" "No. We broke up." "I'm sorry to hear that." Maxine replied hesitantly. She grabbed a rag that was stained with dried red paint and tenderly dabbed the Merlot that had spilled on Camille's blouse. When the back of her hand grazed her tits, she vowed to herself to remember their softness. As Max kept blotting the wet spot, she held eye contact. They stood body to body as Maxine studied Camille's face. She lightly caressed Camille's cheek with her fingers. "You have beautiful bone structure." Camille swallowed to ease her dry throat. "Thank you." "Your welcome." Max eased forward. "Would you like more wine?" "God yes," Camille giggled. Max laughed along with her which dissolved the uncomfortable exchange, but the sexual tension was still choking them. They stayed there in the studio for a few hours bonding. After three glasses of Merlot Camille reluctantly agreed to have a portrait done. The two women compared schedules, and agreed on Mondays at six in the evening for their sessions. ***** Camille was stuck in meetings all day the following Monday but was preoccupied with her plans for that night. Maxine spent the day shopping for her nieces and nephews and lost track of time. At five o'clock she rushed back to her loft to make herself presentable. Once she was all cleaned up, she turned her attention towards her studio. Camille changed out of her work clothes into a robe she had brought and then made small talk. She blushed as she passed her friend who was aiming space heaters towards the back of the room. "Have you ever posed nude?" "Yes, back in college." Max nodded, "It paid good money and I felt like it was a cut above stripping to buy textbooks." Camille cinched her robe. "Were you as anxious as I am?" "Only at the very first session. But now, I'm not ashamed or afraid of my sexuality and you don't have to be either." She tried to think of something to calm Camille's nerves. "Being in touch with your body gives you confidence and freedom." Camille felt reassured. She untied the peach satin robe and then pulled her hair out of a ponytail. Once she was positioned on the black platform, she took a deep breath and let her inhibitions float away. As Maxine picked up her brush, she wondered how she would interpret this goddess before her. Over the weeks their conversations grew more personal. Camille confided the events of the night of her birthday that led to her break up with Brandon. After that painful admission things changed between the two women. And even though Camille wandered why the sessions were dragging on week after week with no completion date in sight, the actual sessions were pleasant. She looked forward to them because they were comfortable and familiar. There was a lot of sharing mixed with a lot of wine. Laughter and tears were common but other things were creeping in. Things like hand holding, innocent caresses and quick kisses goodbye. ***** A heat wave blanked the city. Since Max's studio was near the waterfront it was a little more tolerable then other neighborhoods, but it was still bad. The women had a routine now. Camille had progressed from nervousness at undressing behind a screen, to standing before Max and pulling off her clothes in delicious strip tease, to utterly natural undressing, like two lovers in the room. Acceptance. The abnormal becoming normal. On this day Max was feeling bold. She answered the door in just her T-shirt and panties, handing Camille a glass of wine. "I hope you don't mind. It's too hot to wear anything else." She took a sip of the chilled Chardonnay, "Why would I mind?" Camille walked straight over to the platform and began to undress. The combination of being out late last night, the heat and the wine, had her nodding off. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while before dreams overtook her. As she laid there naked, erotic images filled her. She dreamed of silky kisses and caresses...fingers and hands gliding all over her body. A fever had come over her, one that started down low in that trimmed triangle between her thighs. Camille awoke with a start covered in sweat and Max was nowhere to be found. After wandering around the studio, she found Max in the kitchen, flushed and red in the face. "Are you alright?" "Yes." Maxine rolled her glass of ice water across her forehead before setting it on the counter. "I was just taking a break since you had fallen asleep." She stated plainly. "Let's continue if you are up for it." "Sure." Max followed Camille back into the main room and stood at the canvas. As Camille got situated again she noticed something. It was a smear on her upper thigh. It was cum. There was a moment of uncertainty between them. A moment of distrust and silent accusation that brought back memories of Brandon. It quickly dissipated. After all Camille had just had a sex dream so it wasn't odd that she had cum in her sleep. Was it? Picking up her paintbrush, Max broke the awkward silence. "Ready?" "Ready." And they began again. ***** Four months later it was time to unveil the masterpiece. Maxine was more nervous then she had ever been. Even though they had formed a true friendship, she feared this would be their last meeting. They ate dinner and then headed downstairs to do the inevitable. "Are you ready?" Max asked tentatively. "As ready as I'll ever be." Camille took Max's hand as she spoke, "You probably had prospective clients that could pay you more money. but you chose to take me on. I want to thank you for doing this for me. This portrait might be my boyfriend's Christmas present." Maxine's smile faded. "Your welcome." Camille hugged Maxine and noticed something new in the room. It was a picture of Max and another woman playing in the snow. She pulled away. "Is this your sister?" "No, Sharon is my ex." It took a few moments for Camille to process the information. Once the heaviness lifted she said something stupid. "You don't look like a lesbian." "What does a lesbian look like?" Max pretended to be hurt. "I didn't mean it like that, I...I just meant..." Camille's voice trailed off as she struggled to take her foot out of her mouth. "You look like me..." Maxine interrupted, "So you are the quintessential heterosexual?" Heat flushed her face as she continued to stammer. "Yes, I...I mean no. I'm not homophobic." Camille looked away because she felt like a fool. "And I'm not Heterophobic." "Heterophobic? Is that a real word?" "That's not the point," Maxine said with a giggle. Camille was relieved when Max laughed since it meant that she wasn't offended. "Have you ever been attracted to a man?" "No." "Never?" She raised an eyebrow. "Asking a million times won't change my answer." Maxine sighed then softened her tone. "I recognize when a man is handsome, but I wouldn't pursue him romantically. What about you? Have you ever been attracted to a woman?" "Once," Camille admitted, barely audible. Max's heart began to race, "When?" "On my birthday," she answered in a voice thick with shame. After hearing her friend's admission, Maxine knew that this was the right moment. "That's a big statement." She counted to three in her head then took the painting draping off with dramatic flair. Camille clarified her previous statement. "I think your pretty that's all..." she stopped mid sentence her portrait came into view. "I...I don't understand. Was having me come here all of these months some sick game you got off on?" Camille felt a rush of modesty as she realized that her friend must be crazy. Maxine saw the look of horror in Camille's face as she backed away and figured she better give details fast. "Look, I know this seems weird but let me explain." She took Camille's hand and led her over to the easel. "What do you see?" "I see a blank canvas." She said sarcastically. "What the fuck do you see?" "This is my best work." She smiled. "I see a portrait of a striking woman too complex to interpret with these simple tools." She waved her paint brushes in the air. "Camille, I have painted a portrait of you in my mind that I can view here or anywhere else I please. You have given me a piece of yourself that no one else deserves to see. You are changing right before my eyes like a chameleon." Max's gut feeling was that if she made a move, Camille would be curious enough to go with the flow. "Maxine, I haven't changed." "Oh, but you have. When you first came to visit me you were unsure of yourself and your feelings. It took real guts for you to bare yourself and now look at us." She admitted her feelings plainly. "Most weeks after you leave here I stay behind and masturbate as I stare at this canvas. I know almost every inch of your body. And what I don't know, I imagine." That was too much honesty for Camille to handle. She thought that notion was ridiculous since Brandon couldn't even remember the birthmark on her stomach which was slightly darker then her skin tone. "You don't know anything about me." "I know that when you pose, you try to hide the small scar on your thigh. I also know that you have light freckles on your shoulders just like a cousin of mine. I know that you have a birth mark on your tummy and a beauty mark on your right foot," Max rambled. Camille covered her face with her hands as she began to tremble. Her breath caught in her throat and she didn't answer. Max took another step forward. A few months back, it would have been an invasion of Camille's personal space but over time barriers had been broken down. From week to week, the act of being posed and touched had become intimate. Her initial apprehension was just fear covering lust, covering curiosity, covering God knows what else. Week after week going to Max's studio and sitting for the painting had been a pretense for her to take her clothes off and be seduced. But she wasn't ready to admit that to herself, "Stop it! This is insane." "No it's not. You just said that you were attracted to me. I am just admitting the same." Max ran her fingers through Camille's hair and then boldly took another step forward. She eased her arm around Camille's back and nuzzled her face allowing their warm breath to mingle. Her lips inched closer as she spoke softly. "Let me." Her lips touched Camille's so lightly that is was barely a kiss at all. Anxiety was replaced with curiosity as Camille closed her eyes and parted her mouth to accept Max's tongue. She wasn't sure if these confusing feelings meant that she was a lesbian and she didn't care. That concept was too much for Camille in this moment. They slowly shuffled backwards to the platform and stretched out across it. Maxine took control of the situation because she was ready for a release. After reluctantly breaking the kiss she trailed her mouth over Camille's collarbone, her breath hot against her skin. Soft sighs of contentment escaped Camille. Max moaned deeply as she nipped her friend's silky brown flesh. They momentarily melted into one another. Max finally felt Camille was relaxed enough to take things up a notch. Camille watched as Maxine stood up and undressed herself purposefully. This was her make or break moment. If she stood and undressed too there would be no turning back. As Camille debated the issue in her head, she realized that she was already in her bra and panties. It was as if her body was on auto pilot or cruise control. Max slowly finished undressing her nervous friend and then sat beside her. She had waited months for this moment and didn't want to fuck it up. Maxine knew that Camille was physically ready but wasn't sure about her mental state. "Camille, I haven't been with anyone since the night I met you in that bar. I am ready and willing to make love to you if you are open to new things." "I want to lay down with you." Camille gazed lovingly at Max. "But we need to take things slow." Maxine answered with restrained enthusiasm, "We can go as slow as you need to feel comfortable." Max kissed Camille again to remind her of the energy they had exchanged a few moments ago. She was pleased when a moan escaped the back of her friend's throat. Maxine took that as a sign and moved her kisses down her neck, over her shoulder to the tits that had been torturing her in her dreams. Camille massaged her right one as Max devoured the left. Moments later, Max left a wet trail as she nibbled across Camille's chest to the other side. Maxine was in heaven as she snuggled her face into the warm pillows and sucked the swollen nipples. Soft melodic moans followed as Max pulled a breast deeper into her mouth. Up until this point Max had been caressing Camille's waist but as things got more involved her fingers found her soft pubic hair. Her hands drifted downward and gently caressed Camille's slit. "I...I've never done this before..." She stammered. "I know," Max paused, "Are you asking me to stop?" "No..." Maxine's fingers quickly found her friend's swollen clit. She began making lazy circles with her thumb. Camille responded by burying her face in her neck and moaning into it. She ground herself into Max's hand making it slippery with her juices. Soon there was a finger up inside of her...then two. Camille began to move her hips back and forth, fucking Max's fingers. She had never been so turned on. "I want you to make me cum." They were both unbelievably wet. Moaning and grinding against one another. Twitching and gasping...clawing and clutching. Max slid another finger into Camille's pussy and fucked her real good before sliding to the floor and deeply inhaling the sweet earthy aroma. A simple kiss was laid there. She repeated the delicate action until every time she pulled back, a trail of sticky juice would follow her mouth. After getting a taste of Camille, Max nestled herself between her thighs and French kissed her pussy. Her hands were placed firmly on her friend's ass as she used her tongue to go deep. Her tongue gently separated the pussy lips and sank in. Camille's shiny juices flowed over her tongue and coated her face. Max was in heaven and pulled Camille by the hips closer, intent on making her cry out in ecstasy. "St...stop it. Oh shit, oh shit..." Camille's breathing was ragged from the intense pleasure. "Don't eat my puss..." The false protests were affirmation that Max was on the right track. They both moaned as she traced the outer lips and then sucked the inner folds of Camille's slit alternately. "Mmmm..." Max moaned into her friend's pussy causing deep vibrations. The women were wet and stick and nasty. Filled with a delicious sense of kink. Camille's knees buckled as desire pulsed through every pore of her body. Brandon had only made her feel that way once and that was years ago. Now Maxine, the object of undisclosed fantasies, was answering those doubts with her cunning tongue. Her technique caused intoxicating tremors that morphed into uncontrollable thrashing as her tongue penetrated faster and deeper. Camille's hands slid up to the back of Maxine's head, pressing her face closer as she was overcome by this wondrous experience. When Max flicked Camille's clit with the tip of her tongue while fingering her, a succession of moans followed the gush of wetness. She sucked in all of the nutty juice letting hardly any trickle out of her mouth. Camille's legs vibrated as the vacuum sensation wound down. It was her first orgasm with a woman but once she tasted her cum in Max's kiss, she knew it wouldn't be her last.