Sunday, May 17
"Brie! Did you know there's a movie called Lesbian Vampire Killers!"
"Shut the fuck up, Christie."
"No. I'm serious. I'm trying to find out how to download it. I mean, here we are in the middle of a vampire apocalypse, and I'm wondering if you and Randi are doing everything you need to be doing to protect the rest of us, ya know?"
"You're just jealous cuz you don't have a twat."
"Yes. We established that a long time ago, Brie."
"Sorry. Didn't mean to touch on a sore subject."
"It's not sore today. My boobies, on the other hand..."
"So, you called?"
"I did. I'm DYING to know the rest of the story. Y'know, about you and Randi channeling Kate McKinnon and... yeah, I'm at a loss for another funny lesbian."
"Portia de Rossi."
"Yeah, yeah, her. I was thinking Gal Gadot. Is she gay?"
"Only in our dreams, Christie, only in our dreams."
"Lemme know if that changes. I could bat for the other team, maybe..."
"It'll be a long line. Look, not much to say about the second night. We agreed it was my turn to kinda take the lead, and look, have you ever seen `Blue is the Warmest Color'?"
"A couple of scenes, but no, not much."
"Yeah, will look, it's basically nude Greco roman wrestling."
"I thought all Greco roman wrestling was nude."
"Huh... yeah, but anyway, something they don't tell you is being on top is exhausting."
"I've noticed Carlos is always exhausted when he's finished using me."
"Not the same thing."
"Same thing."
"Huh... yeah... well, anyway, I think I discovered I really like being a bottom."
"Join the club."
"Not the same thing."
"Same thing."
"NO. It's not! I mean, there's a huge difference between having one of those yechie penises stuck in you and receiving... ahhh... attention from another woman who understands how all your parts work."
"Well, first, Brie, as for the `yechie penis' part, their not all yechie. The one I have experience with -- well, ignoring the obvious -- is quite tasty and brings me a great deal of pleasure. Second, how the fuck would you know? You haven't even kissed a boy, much less fucked one."
"I have kissed a boy."
"Who? When?"
"Sam Polanski. In the 6th grade."
"You little slut! When were you going to tell me that!"
"It was at church camp. On a dare."
"Ahhhh... church camp! Everyone's introduction to low-level sin."
"So anyway, Randi was so super the first night, and took charge, and knew where all my buttons were..."
"I thought there was one main button?"
"Yeah, that one, mainly, but there are some other low-level buttons..."
"So she rocked your boat?"
"Yeah, big time, and kept going, and going, and going, until literally I couldn't take it anymore. Then the second night, it was my turn, and I tried to duplicate everything she did the first night, and I was so mechanical. I wasn't enjoying it, and she wasn't enjoying it, and finally she just took charge again and used me like a fuck pillow, and before you know it, she was cumming and then I was cumming and we both were exhausted and later we both kinda realized that I'm a bottom and she's a top."
"Well, that may be true, but maybe also it was too scripted, you think?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the first night was really spontaneous and erotic, right?"
"Yeah."
"And the second night, it was all scripted so that you were trying to follow the plan and none of it was happening organically."
"Go on...."
"Look, when Carlos and I get together, and damn I hope we do again soon cuz yeah, his cock is very tasty, but anyway, the first few times it was really spontaneous and then we were just going thru the motions, so we added something, and then added something more, and started finding out more and more about what we needed from each other. I'm more than just a fuck pillow for him, and he's more than just a warm cock that squirts stuff inside me.
We both paused for a minute, and then I said, "So, when are you two going to see each other again?"
"That's a very real problem. I mean, not many places or opportunities. Even if one of us had a drivers license and a car, it's not like we could do much except make out in the dark somewhere."
"Reminds me a little of the couple who hadn't seen each other in months, and then when they finally saw each other, they ripped each others cloths off and jumped on the sofa and did it right there. It was great, but they can never go in that Furniture Store ever again."
"Oh, that's a dumb joke, Christie. Dumb... arrrhhhh...."
"I thought it was cute."
"Look, what's this about your boobs being sore?"
"A few weeks ago, Doctor Strange, my endocrinologist, put me on a new mix of hormones. Mainly hoping to jump start my boobie growth."
"You have great boobs."
"I have tiny boobs."
"They're fine."
"That's what my Mom and Becca say, but I barely fill out my bra and summer is coming and I look like a boy in a sundress."
"You do NOT look like a boy. Hell, even back when you pretended to be a boy, you didn't look like a boy."
"Flat chested."
"No, you're not! You have very nice boobies. Lots of girls would love to have what you have."
"I'd love to have what YOU have."
"I also have a weight problem. You're a fucking fashion model."
"I'm barely a model, and that's just by accident. Anyway, I'm planning to be a lawyer, and a lot of girls worked their way thru law school or med school as models."
"Name one."
"Izzy Stevens. Elle Woods."
"Those are fucking fictional characters!"
"Same difference!"
"Not really, but anyway, you have a perfect figure for a 15 year old model. Except for Victoria's Secret angels, models are all tall and skinny as rails. You have a perfect figure."
"I'm not tall."
"You're what, 5-8?"
"5-7, and Doctor Strange says I'm probably peaked out."
"Well good. I'm 5-4, and you tower over me."
"Carlos is 5-11, and it's perfect when I wear heels."
"When do you wear heels around Carlos?"
"Play practice, that school formal where we met, I dunno..."
"When do you wear heels at all?"
"Church, sometime."
"You go to church?"
"A few times."
"I'd like to see that."
"I'm very cute. I look cute in a Sunday School dress."
"I'll bet you do. So, what are your plans for seeing Carlos again?"
"His family has been all nervous about any kind of contamination with their great grandfather in the house. Carlos is his main caregiver, and he's like a prisoner. Worse than me. Way worse than you. He and I video chat most nights, and the poor thing is exhausted. I just wish I could hug him and help him get some rest."
"You make that yechie carnal crap you two do sound so fucking romantic."
"Sigh... yeah, it is."
So Brie and I finished our Monday afternoon telephone soiree. Everyone was anxious to see school end, yet at the same time no one knew what we would do for the summer except hunker down and get fat. Theaters, malls, restaurants, and nearly everyplace we'd like to hang out was closed. My hair looked like shit. My makeup was running out, although I found I could get some stuff delivered. I was coloring my hair now -- rusty blonde which really looked red to replace the nasty strawberry red I was born with. Turns out, and I'd never really paid attention to this, but neither Mom nor Becca could really remember their natural hair color. Becca said that if she was trapped on a Polynesian island, after a few weeks she'd start scaring off the natives.
Tuesday thru Friday were more and more of the same. The weather had turned back to normal (overcast, cool, wet) and so no more laying out by the pool. Becca was deep in the end of her school quarter, which I understand would end in mid-June. At least I'd be out a week ahead of her.
All week, my boobies had been increasingly itching. I woke up Saturday morning, and I swear they'd grown overnight! I tried on my push-up a-cup, that I wore with gel inserts, and I was spilling out over the top!!! I couldn't believe it. I went to get my favorite bikini top, that I hadn't worn in over a week, and the same story -- CLEAVAGE! I actually have cleavage! I was squealing so loud, Becca came running in and I told her what was happening.
She said, "Let me go get a cloth tape and measure you." I dropped my top, standing there in just panties, waiting for her to come back from Mom's hobby room where she kept that sort of thing. Becca went around behind me and measured under my boobs, then had me lift the tape and measure right across my nipples.
She said, "Huh, little sister, you are a very firm B-cup if I've ever seen one! I've got some old B-cup bras somewhere around here, and maybe even an old B-cup Wonderbra that will make you look like a C-cup. Lemme see what I can find. I pulled on a robe (it was cold!) and waited patiently. She rumbled thru her closet, and then went up in the attic. It seemed to take forever, but probably only about 5 minutes. Shortly, she came with four bras -- two B-cup padded bras, a sports bra slightly larger than the one I usually wear, and an old push-up bra from Victoria's Secret. I immediately grabbed for the push-up, and with it on, I reached for a t-shirt.
Before I could pull on the t-shirt, Becca said, "Hang on, little sister, you have to give it some help." With that, she reached down into my bra like an old woman at a fitting room, and pulled my nipple up to make even more cleavage spilling over the top. With the t-shirt, I looked like I had REAL BOOBS! I could hardly wait to show them off!!!
Then today, I got even more good news -- the most WONDERFUL call from Carlos. He had finally convinced his parents to let him out of the house, so long as anyone who comes near him has tested negative for COVID the same day. I told him that Mom had acquired some at-home COVID tests, and I'd test whenever he wanted me to. He said, let's plan for next weekend. At least we can go for a drive and a picnic in the car without seeing anyone else. We made a date for Saturday, and now my little bottom is itching!!!