Ageless

As Peggy and Angelique sat at their now usual booth, sharing a slice of pie and practically feeding each other, Angie seethed with something not unlike jealousy. Angelique was just too pale. Tall and thin, her body as slender as a flower’s stalk, except for the plump breasts that strayed out ponderously from the sloping lines of her body, just about as big as English’s, and it just didn’t seem fair how Angelique could be so big while otherwise being all skinny as a tissue, while Angie had the same wasp-waist and fleet thighs, but was flat as a board in comparison. And the way Angelique was blonde as a blank page, making even Peggy’s British backside look tan…

Angie just didn’t like it. And she didn’t like how Angelique had set her sights on Peggy and practically courted her until everything Peggy said was Angelique this and Angelique that. And the way Angelique reached across the table to touch Peggy’s hand like she was petting a favorite pet… hussy! Even if it was with another girl, that was just hussy behavior.

Angie scrubbed the plate she was on even more furiously as Angelique got up to leave, Peggy following after her, the bill and a big tip left on the table, like Angie didn’t know what Angelique was even with thirty percent. 

“That plate okay?” Lou the cook asked her, seeing how she was going after the plate like there was gold underneath the surface. 

“It’s fine,” Angie said, forcing herself to rinse it off and set it to dry. But she stared after the door Angelique and Peggy had slipped through, wondering if Peggy would even be home tonight.

***

“We’re very much alike,” Angelique said. Here, in the confines of her own apartment, she laboriously undid the buttons and zippers that kept her body sheathed in concealing cloth—stripping it away to nothing, as looked so comfortable to her.

Peggy felt incredibly awkward. She hadn’t been in the presence of another naked woman since the physical education back at her alma mater, and despite how Angelique insisted on ‘naturism’ within her own private property, she wasn’t at all sure why the blonde seemed so keen on her being there, even watching.

But she had to admit that Angelique’s body was fantastic, even better than it looked in the very fine clothing and jewelry that she dressed herself in.

“How so?” Peggy asked, trying to keep up her end of the conversation while so dazzled by Angelique’s casual dishabille and her even more casual beauty. There was an elegance about her that was all but effortless, and it was only enhanced with the fetters of garments out of the way, Peggy had to admit.

Angelique stood by her bed, seeming completely enthused with her own naked perfection, demanding Peggy’s gaze with the gleam of her green eyes. She tossed back her argent-blonde hair and smiled at Peggy. 

“Powerful women… attracted to powerful men, in a world of amply available weaklings. We both found the power we crave, but it’s lost to use. And we know the feel of it. So now we look for its cousin.” She ran her palms over the stiffened tips of her breasts, sliding her hands down her perfectly flat stomach and onto the slant of her hips.

Peggy couldn’t help but notice that Angelique had shaved most of her pubic hair, leaving herself only a hedge of nearly white fur running over her womanhood like platinum filigree. Angelique turned, offering a profile that emphasized the sweeping thrust of her cleavage and the high rounded curve of her buttocks. She patted her hip. “The Yanks don’t want to admit it, but nudity is so becoming, is it not?” she smirked. “On a night like this, all we need is the gaze of the lustful and the jealous to keep us warm.”

Peggy felt ill at ease. She tried not to look at Angelique, but she couldn’t stop herself, just as she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and touching Steve after he’d first… grown. If he was the male ideal, Angelique couldn’t be far from the feminine one. As confident as Peggy was in her own abilities, she could only dream of having a body like Angelique.

“Listen,” Angelique said, turning back to Peggy. “I don’t think it’s entirely fair that I’m the only one on display. Why don’t you humor me and strip down? You’d be shocked how good a round of nakedness is for the skin, and the self-confidence. Once you let go of the idea that you have to go around hiding behind fabric, you’ll see yourself as ten times the beauty you once were.”

Peggy’s hesitance must have been obvious in the set of her body; Angelique didn’t even wait for a response. She planted her hands on her hips and gave Peggy a glowering stare that was so intense Peggy wasn’t sure if it was meant self-deprecatingly or in the utmost seriousness. “I’m going to wash down our dinner with a little mother’s milk. When I come back, I expect you to be as nature intended: au natural. 

Peggy was feeling quite beside herself now, but as assertive as Angelique was, she had at least given Peggy the leeway of being alone as she undressed. I suppose I could always duck out the window, Peggy thought laconically to herself. But no, Angelique was her friend—she should at least try this agrarian philosophy Angelique so expounded on.

She hurried out of her dress, then removed her underwear. It was something she did every night, of course, but she’d never felt quite so naked as she did now—this strange, unfamiliar room pressing in on her nudity, reminding her this was a place she should be obliged to wear clothes. And then she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors!

There were a plethora of mirrors in the room, the huge bed visible in all of them. Peggy blushed as she realized how Angelique must’ve enjoyed watching herself. She’d made no secret of having sex, and neither had Peggy, but the Brit had drawn the line at revealing how much—or how little—she liked it. What kind of lovemaking must Angelique enjoy that it was worthy of being plastered on the walls like this?

Emboldened by Angelique’s own lack of conventionality, Peggy turned to one of the mirrors and studied herself. She could say without ego that she looked pretty blasted good—worthy by far of being a virtual pin-up, with her naked image recreated on the wall mirrors and their reflections like there’d been a print run of thousands.

Angelique reentered the room. There Peggy stood by the bed, still naked, but now feeling very awkward. She thought of covering herself with her hands, but the retreat would be too strenuous. All she could do was hold a deep breath and try to take pride in her exposure.

“Not bad,” Angelique said with a nod. “I hope you find yourself as attractive as I do. Surely you can have no excuse not to know how beautiful you are…?”

She moved toward Peggy, who backed up until her legs bumped against the bed. She held still as Angelique came close.

“Don’t be scared,” Angelique said, her voice silky. “I’m going to make you feel as beautiful as you are.”

Peggy still didn’t know what was going to happen, but as Angelique’s hand came to rest on her arm, an unsettling idea was developing. Angelique’s face came closer and closer, its nearness somehow setting Peggy at ease even as her heart raced.

She’s going to kiss me, Peggy thought, as distantly as she would learn something in a dream, and then the warm, soft mouth of Angelique was indeed pressed firmly, wetly against Peggy’s own. She felt the touch of Angelique’s stiff nipples on her own breasts, planting their own tingling kisses on Peggy’s flesh.

Angelique’s arms encircled her and she opened her mouth, her tongue tracing over Peggy’s still closed lips. The touch was almost ticklish in how it brushed ever so lightly over Peggy, who tried to voice a belated protest, but it only opened her mouth wide enough for Angelique’s tongue to slip inside. The clash of her tongue against Peggy’s was like the Englishwoman had taken a livewire inside her mouth, the jolt sizzling down to Peggy’s very core as she gave a squeal of surprise.

Angelique’s hands came down to squeeze Peggy’s ass. She was used to a man’s big hands cupping her buttocks, but Angelique’s fingers were smaller, seemingly naughtier for how they insinuated themselves along the curves of her hips. They handled the firm flesh with a masseuse’s expert touch, rubbing and squeezing in a way that seemed calculated to bring the already tingling flesh to a furious, thrilling high.

Not only that, but Angelique’s thigh eased into the slight part between Peggy’s legs, the toned muscle coming to rest squarely on Peggy’s sex. Even as Peggy groaned with the unexpectedly supple touch, Angelique pushed with her leg, stealing Peggy’s balance away in a burst of pleasure. The Englishwoman toppled backward until the bed broke her fall.

Angelique came down with her, landing on top of Peggy, legs intertwined with the other woman’s as she pressed their pussies together. She squirmed and writhed, building friction between their merging flesh, from her tongue working in and out with nonstop kisses to her sex almost violently clashing with Peggy’s.

Her lips slid free of Peggy’s and she looked down, so close that her eyelashes could’ve been Peggy’s. “So sweet,” she said in a throaty voice. “Like you’ve never been tasted before.”

Peggy, eyes enormous with shock, could only shake her head. It was true, she’d never done anything remotely like this—it didn’t even feel like what she’d done with men. If that was sex, she didn’t know what this was. But the feel of Angelique’s heated womanhood pressed so… inspiringly… against herself—it’d never happened before. She didn’t know if she ever wanted it to happen again. Or if she wanted it to ever start.

“However you’re feeling now?” Angelique sighed, as if she could barely sympathize with what or how little Peggy was feeling. “It’s not nearly equal to how lovely you are. Allow me to rectify that.”