Rachel & Janie's Massage, Part 6

by PenelopePinn

The next two weeks are filled with lovely, luscious sex. Every night they sleep together, snuggled chose, hands on each others pussy's, like a second skin all their own down there. Each never tiring from the touch of the other; wet finger tips an invitation to yet another long licking session ending so nosily their walls would be banged by their neighbors. It became a dorm joke, one they finally got use to, enough to at least smile shyly about, when someone would pass them in the hall, giggling, "Get a room...somewhere, anywhere--ELSE!"

In the shower they usually seemed to embarrass themselves, being interrupted from their touching and fondling. Once the girls were astonished to find they had an audience. Some of their dorm mates had erected an impromptu platform in the stall next to the showers. By standing on a bench supported by the toilet, they could peak out to an unobstructed view of the shower. The girls, as attested by a blurry internet video--one not permitted on YouTube, had gotten carried away again and were literally wallowing in each other, in a head-to-toe embrace. '69 and no yards to go' the video was affectionately called.

A college town, especially in the moist, shall we say, fertile south, is more liberal then, say, a Southern Baptist church convention. Still, some traditions persist, namely the courting of handsome boys and comely girls. Those that flaunt the conservative norms that linger on do risk a measure, sometimes a large measure, of ostracism. So, while their dorm mates might be liberal enough to tease them, they also liked to gossip, until soon one Miss Emily Hausenplat came to understand two uncommonly attractive lesbians were in the old Christmas Dorm, Room 308. She even had a video reportedly to prove it.

The more she studied the video, the more irritated she became, frankly, by its lack of focus. She daydreamed and took to looking wistfully from her first floor window at the pair as they walked, often hand-in-hand, to their courses. Sometimes she frowned; sometimes she smiled. When she smiled, it was at the details of a plan. If her plan worked, another possibility lurked like the subtle whisper of a devil she thought dead and buried.

Miss Hausenplat was 31 years old. No man had touched her in 10 long years. Her fear of men was well established, she was known as a perennial old maid. Quite the beauty really, a bit prim, even cold, and overdressed, but not exceptionally so, given her status as a dean. To tell the plain truth, unvarnished in a closed society that viewed her as an oddity, her heart ached, ached for love, no matter from whom, but not, if she could help it, from a controlling man, a man who might judge her to his advantage and use her accordingly.

You can imagine, then, the temptation of two so beautiful girls as Rach and Janie, unabashed lesbians let loose upon her college, now within the grasp of her influence. Her mind would not rest, the possibilities swam like vestal virgins naked before a heathen queen. So she hatched the plan, not villainous necessarily, for how can so long an ache not be rewarded under the heaven of a loving Goddess? There, nonetheless, pointed with an eagerness toward the girls, was a wisp of something following them down the lane as they made their way toward their first classes.

Miss Hausenplat does not really understand all the forces that be as she meddles in the lives of our two heroins. Over the edge of her knowing are two, call them guardian angels, that await the return of their vacationing proteges.

"We should go back soon, you know." Rach says.

"Yes,"

"When...?"

Rach interrupts this near constant reverie, "Do we know somebody named Hausenplat?"

"I don't think so--wait isn't there a dean named Hausenplat?"

"Yeah, something to do with discipline. How outdated to have a title with 'discipline' in it."

"Well, we are in the Bible Belt.--Better watch out, you evil lezzy!"

"Yeah, I'll watch that wet pussy of yours--closely!"

"Anyway," Rach reads, "we have an invitation to 4567 N. Pepperbridge Lane at 9:00 Tuesday night for an 'interview' with Ms. Hausenplat."

"Miss?"

"Yeah, never married I hear."

"Why so late?" Janie says, "Doesn't she think we sleep?"

"We better go. My scholarship depends on a certain goodwill from this college. Especially now, since my grades are slipping almost as fast as my tongue into your pussy." Janie smirks.

"Poor baby, I'm getting wet thinking of that tongue--soon I'll need to change these panties again, you slut!"

"9 p.m. is still pretty late..."

"Yeah...I miss Jasmine."

"Me too."

"So?"

"What made you think of Jasmine now, since we've been studiously ignoring the pull of her and Miss M for the last two weeks?"

Janie shrugs, and says simply, "Danger."

Rach understands immediately, "Ms. Hausenplat!"

"Why don't we ask Jasmine what to do?"

"I hope she isn't mad at us for ignoring her. God, it's not like we don't talk about them every night..." Rach says.

"To Georgies?"

"Yep, let's see how clairvoyant our enchantresses are?"

At Georgies, it is supper time. They are eating salads but want cheeseburgers. "What's up with this salad crap?"

"No one made you order it." Rach says.

"I always dutifully follow the recommendations of my cute mentor."

"Follow this!" Rachel says, giving her the finger. "Seriously, I didn't want to overeat...you know...in case."

"Ah!" Janie giggles, "In case you had to get serious and suck major pussy!"

"OK, so the thought of...did enter my mind. Last time was so exciting!"

"It was!"

"What was?" smiles Jasmine as she slides gracefully into the curved booth. Miss M and the vivacious, little Jenna join them on the other side. The girls light up with smiles. How wonderful to see all three of them. They realize what a hidden ache their absence was. Everyone is now hugging like long lost friends in from the cold. "Oh my, how we missed you!" they say, almost together.

"We missed you, too!" Jasmine says, "but we wanted to respect your...ah...privacy." and sniggers delightedly. "I bet you were studying so hard you forgot all about us." Now she openly laughs, along with Miss M and Jenna, as they watch Rach and Janie blush furiously, all of them happy to be together again.

"How did you know to find us here?" Janie asks.

"Big magic, little girl!" Jasmine says with a straight face, and then confesses, "Of course, Josie, the bartender helped, too. She called us just like we asked her too, when two horny girls showed up with lonesome faces."

"That's us, I guess." Rach says, "We wanted to come sooner but, as you could tell, there were always distractions, wonderful distractions."

"We never stopped thinking of you, if that helps." Janie says. "Then we got this weird invitation and we thought maybe we should talk to you about it."

"It made you feel danger." Jasmine says and they are reminded of her uncanny mind reading skills.

"Yes, danger." Janie says and shows her the neat little card with the invitation, handwritten in bold cursive.

Jasmine looks at Miss M and asks, "Do we know a Hausenplat?"

Miss M thinks for a minute and points to the card, "She is a dean, an unmarried dean, as I recall. She had a reputation for being repressed, standoffish. Daddy would wisecrack about her being an old maid at 25."

Jasmine thinks, "So the repressed Miss H wants to meet our two lovely lesbians who so conveniently documented themselves on the internet."

"We loved your latest picture!" Jenna giggles, "Hope you didn't get too many bruises from the tile floor."

Jasmine looks at Jenna, "Speaking of acting, maybe our little scout needs to pay Miss H a visit...sort of warm her up. We have three days until the 'interview.' We'll go with you, I'll be your governess and Miss M can be your aunt. Jenna will be--well let's just say a sight for sore eyes."

Jasmine gets up from the booth along with her retinue, she winks at the girls. "After the interview, we'll attend to that massage you've so carefully put off." The girls nod eagerly.

On Sunday afternoon under a cloudy sky, on the porch of Miss Hausenplat's house stands little Jenna, adorable in a scout uniform, medals, ribbons, her blonde her in pigtails, an innocent smile on her face.

Miss Hausenplat answers the door. She is captured by the sight of Jenna who curtseys and broadcasts a wide impish smile. Under her arm are some rather tattered boxes of cookies.

"Hello!" Jenna says, and extends her hand, Mary Kay all-the-way. Miss Hausenplat steps back, taken in by the lovely sight of the petite young girl with so much...presence. Jenna grabs hold of her hand, and carries her along into the hallway where she says, "Oh, thank you for inviting me in. I am so thirsty. Who knew selling cookies was so much work."

Distractedly, Miss Hausenplat nods her head and walks with the girl into her sitting room. She is enormously conscious of the little girl's warm fingers clutching her hand. She gestures for the girl to sit on the couch. The girl gracefully drops onto the couch and crosses her legs at the ankles. Since the girl won't let go of Miss Hausenplat's hand, she finds herself sitting beside the girl aware now of the remarkably short skirt the scout is wearing, its hem resting mid-thigh on very sheer nylons. (I didn't know they wore nylons!)

Jenna rubs Miss Hausenplat's hand and exclaims how smooth and silky her skin is. She asks her if she uses lotion, that her mother uses cocoa creme but the smell is yuck. "I wish I had skin like yours," she murmurs now tenderly stroking the back of Miss Hausenplat's hand, and then her wrist, and now her forearm in light strokes, the picture of innocent exploration.

Inside Miss Hausenplat is quivering with temptation. How long it's been since someone has touched her and marveled about her appearance. How long since she's felt a warm body this close to her (and realizes with a start that Jenna has snuggled closer to her with the length of her body now actually touching, no pressing against hers. How did that happen!)

Jenna continues to stroke Miss Hausenplat's arm. She is a practiced temptress, who weaves a silky web glistening in the light, surrounding your passage. She lightly kisses Miss Hausenplat on the cheek, but her lips are wet and the kiss has a bit of a poach to it--another strand of that bedeviling web. Miss Hausenplat shivers, touches her cheek, and gets up suddenly, "Better get that water!"

Her face flushed Miss Hausenplat, returns with a pitcher of water and two chilled glasses on a tray. As she sets the tray on the coffee table, her eyes follow the dark tunnel beneath Jenna's skirt to a silky white spot that winks back into darkness as Jenna shifts her legs and smiles widely, "Oh, thank you so much." Her voice is prim almost as though she is echoing the serious Ms. Hausenplat. The affect fades as Jenna stretches her arms over her head. As the girls fingers languidly toy with the seem of pink flesh that parts her pigtails, Miss Hausenplat watches the curve of her breast become more pronounced and her skirt slide up farther over silken thighs. All the while, Jenna smiles, wondrously, openly, welcoming Miss Hausenplat to herself.

Miss Hausenplat hesitantly looks into the girl's blue now startled eyes, eyes that stare back at her wistfully and confused. She sees the delicate slope of her nose, and the swell of sensuous lips now curved and full. Her breath catches as the tip of Jenna's tongue slips out of those pouty lips to reach a single drop of water, glistening on the edge of the glass she is extending to her lips. As she stares at Miss Hausenplat, the glass falls from her hand and cold water splashes all over her blouse, puddling in her skirt, wetting an already excited pussy: the temptress is somehow smitten with Miss Hausenplat, for whom she longs strange and unsettled.

"Oh!" Miss Hausenplat says and grabs a napkin and tries to blot up the water from Jenna's chest. It is an unconscious act, really, nothing untoward, lascivious, or purely wanton, just her heartfelt reaction. Jenna's response is all those things and more: she kisses Miss Hausenplat fully on her lips, hungrily capturing her face as she leans in to wipe away the water. Her kiss is wet and wild and unrestrained, filled as it is with an intuitive will to free Miss Hausenplat from all the restraints these many years of solitude have built up around her heart--or elsewhere! Miss Hausenplat cannot help herself from responding so that suddenly they are both wet lipped and tongue lapped in wonder together, each well past a ledge from which they fall deliriously.

There is no napkin now as warm fingers blot away the water from Jenna's heaving chest. "Take it off--please!" she pants, and struggles to undo the uniform's straps that hold her skirt. Freed, she slips skirt and panties down her silk stockings to puddle (literally) on the floor at her feet. Her legs are open now. Her pussy bare. She returns to Ms. Hausenplat with lips determined to own the unexpected sweetness of the month she finds ready and open, needy for her return.

"Oh god! Oh god! Please don't hurt me," Ms. Hausenplat says her voice slurred with desire and wonder and worry. "I so sorry! I didn't mean to take advantage of you! It just happened!"

Jenna strokes Miss Hausenplat face and kisses her nose like she might a child's. "Shhh, shhhh" she whispers, "my darling, you have nothing at all to worry about. I only hope you won't think badly of me for seducing you. I want us to be friends. I want us to be lovers. Please, please forgive me!"

Jenna takes Miss Hausenplat hand and places it firmly between her legs onto her slippery mound. "Whatever else happens this is yours." She presses the hand again and forces one of Miss Hausenplat fingers into her hotness. "I don't no why I've just bonded with you, but here it is. Now and whenever: You don't have to worry about ever being lonely again. I want you so badly I'm making your dainty couch wet with my juices!"

"You aren't a dream?" Miss Hausenplat is crying now, her tears fall onto Jenna's bare breast. Jenna leans into her and licks her cheek. Her tongue is warm; it stroke's Miss Hausenplat's face luxuriously, savoring her lovely skin, teasing her tears into its trough.

"I have to leave soon, my love. My heart breaks if you disown me later." Jenna says ambiguously. "Before I do, I need to make you happy, so happy you will always come back for more."

She smiles that big inviting smile again and turns to Miss Hausenplat. Her fingers stroke the tear stained face and wander down her neck to the blouse buttoned primly to the top there. With each button she licks a tear, saying, "When you are naked I will have washed away your tears and this tongue can attend to other things."

Miss Hausenplat is breathless with anticipation as each button gives up its opening. She feels hopelessly wet herself, squirming helpless under the press of Jenna's fingers and the lick of Jenna's tongue. "Who...who are you?"

"I'm Jenna! So pleased to meet you!" at this she pry's Miss Hausenplat's hand from between her legs and shakes it lightly and then brings it to her lips, kissing the back in the French manner. Not content with polite introduction, she takes each wet finger into her mouth to suck away the juices clinging to it. Letting her lips slowly encircle first the forefinger than the middle finger, she smiles mischievously "Well aren't you going to tell me your whole name Miss Hausenplat?"

"Emily."

"Emily?"

"Yes..."

"When I come back--soon, Emily my love--I will tell you how this innocent girl scout knows your name, until then..." Words give out as the blouse is finally opened, the bra undone to let beautiful milk-white breasts present themselves. The pinkness of unbridled excitement tints soft mounds, mounds that seem to grow as Jenna's lips kiss their curves until she is there at the nipple, lips pouted, tongue extended, eyes hooded with desire. She pauses to look up past her captive's chest to see the same desire burning there in Emily's eyes. (She said "my love!" She said "my love!") Permission given, she takes the nipple into her mouth to lick it and suck it, her hands busy fondling, expertly tweaking, until Emily can no longer think a single coherent "deanly" thought, until she is wet like a baby, until she is undone completely, now panting wildly, as Jenna's probing fingers find their mark, and play there...until heaven has come to earth, freeing her handmaiden.

In the afterglow, Jenna helps Miss Hausenplat, her Emily, to get up from the couch where she is slumped like a well-used doll. Emily is dazed, for a moment she must have lost consciousness. She stares at Jenna's excited face whose pink cheeks shine like ripe apples. She sees how intently Jenna looks at her. Dreamily, on the contented waves of her massive orgasm, she wonders, no longer caring too much about the past, how long has it been since anyone--anyone at all--looked so lovingly, so hotly at me.

Jenna puts her arm around Emily's shoulder and helps her to the bedroom. There she pulls down the covers and sets her charge slowly onto the bed. Kissing her lightly, her lips like butterfly wings, as she lays her down, gently lifting her legs onto the bed and finishes undressing her. In the nearby bathroom, she finds a wash cloth and soaks it in warm water. When she returns, Emily is staring up at her sleepily. Jenna kisses her lips lightly and goes on to give her a sponge bath. She looks curiously at Emily's beautiful curly red pubic hair and compares it to the dean's drab brown hair, still set in a bun. She murmurs, "Soon you will be free my new, new love," and undoes the pins from Miss Hausenplat's bun.

"My love..." Emily echoes with a contented smile, eyes closing. She feels a small warm body cuddle next to her. She knows it is Jenna from the silky nylons pressed against her thighs. She sleeps, soundly sleeps, as Jenna finally takes her leave ensnared, happily, in the web of her own seduction.