by Jean Roberta
(8/30/00)

"Well, what do you think?" she asked me. Her smirk told me she had already guessed my opinion.

"It looks good, Pru," I assured her. Pru's clothing store was decorated to look like a forest, and the effect of the murals on the walls and the indirect lighting was surprisingly convincing, despite the full racks of dresses, suits, blouses and pants that seemed to be blooming in the unexplored wilderness. All the furnishings were in earthy shades of green, gold and brown.

"It looks like a sacred grove," I ventured, running the risk of offending her.

Pru rolled her eyes, as I knew she would. She leaned toward me, and I caught a whiff of her musky perfume. Her blouse gaped to show the gentle rise of a small brown breast.

"Beth," she laughed. "You know I'm not superstitious, but I want this place to be blessed. I know what my mother would say. 'Pru-dence, you must trust in de Lord'."

Pru and her mother had moved to the city from their native island of St. Lucia years before. I knew that Pru's mother and aunts practiced a combination of pious Christianity and kitchen voodoo that seemed very odd to me, and that Pru had rejected prayers and spells of every kind when she was a rebellious teenager, with a quick mind and a burning desire for upward mobility. All the same, she knew that the success of her store would depend somewhat on luck.

I caught sight of us in one of the wall mirrors that reflected gleams of light around the room. My skin, tanned to a light peach color, and my reddish-gold hair contrasted with Pru's. I was wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of jeans that had both shrunk, so that my shapely breasts (of which I was vain) and my hips and ass were gripped by the fabric. I wondered whether Pru thought I looked tacky, and whether she thought I had dressed this way to show off. I wondered whether she might be right.

As if reading my thoughts, Pru uncoiled and stood up, then casually reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet.

"I want to see my merchandise on you," she chuckled. There was something strangely shy behind her outward confidence, as if she wanted more from me than she could put into words.

Without asking my size, she smoothly pulled a draped turquoise silk dress from its rack and handed it to me.

"Try this," she ordered. She wants to change my image, I thought with amusement.

I gasped when she handed me a pale blue lace bra in my size, 36C (but how did she know?), a matching pair of panties, a cream satin garter belt and a package of stockings with seams up the back. The shoes to go with the ensemble were a pair of turquoise satin pumps that were simple in design, but too high in the heel to allow for easy walking. I felt a hot blush spreading all through me.

I had wondered for months whether Pru wanted anything more than friendship from me. After nights of fantasizing hopelessly (or so I thought), I wasn't sure I could handle her obvious intentions.

"You know I don't wear dresses, Pru," I mumbled. In spite of everything, I wanted to feel the silk on my skin and the skirt swinging against my legs. For Pru.

"Just go try it on," she laughed, pushing me with surprising strength. "Unless you want me to dress you like a baby."

Alone in the cream-and-gold fitting room, I could feel Pru's presence nearby, as though she could see through the curtain as I peeled off my everyday clothes and stood naked before the mirror. It was near the end of summer, and my body was clearly marked where shorts, swimsuits and halter tops had protected my white breasts and belly from the sun.

Feeling self-conscious but increasingly excited, I put on the clothes Pru had provided for me. Reaching over my own shoulders to fasten the tiny blue buttons up the back of the dress, I watched the silk pull at my lace-covered breasts. Smoothing down the skirt and running a hand through my shoulder-length hair, I felt strangely proud of my ladylike appearance. I had worn clothes like this before, but never for another woman.

Her eyes were sparkling when I wobbled out of the fitting room on the killer heels.

"This is ridiculous, Pru," I muttered under my breath.

She replied by grasping me by the shoulders and pulling me close to her for a long, soft kiss. Thanks to my shoes, she didn't have to bend her head much to find my lips, and the warmth of her mouth on mine showed me how much she appreciated my co-operation. Her skin felt as soft and comfortable as old denim. When her persistent tongue found its way between my teeth, I moaned.

I wrapped my arms around her long, slim back and felt the hard edges of ribs under a thin layer of flesh. Her body was like her spirit: vulnerable but determined. May the Goddess forgive me my past, I thought, and may this decent woman never find out. A faintly spicy smell rose from her skin, mixing with the musk of her perfume.

"Pru, I want you," I murmured in her nearest ear.

Her ribs heaved in a silent laugh. "Then why didn't you ask me before now?" she teased me. "Instead of always giving me those hungry looks?"

I was mortified. I had known Pru casually during the years we had both been going to the same bars and even some of the same parties. I could name her last three lovers, but I had never believed I could get close to her until I had forced myself to join the conversation when I overheard her telling two friends about the store she was planning to open. My knowledge of design had attracted her attention, and she had asked for my advice. My ego had expanded, but I had never guessed that she was watching me watching her.

"I didn't think I had a chance with you," I confessed, burying my nose in her warm neck.

Her long, probing fingers slid over my silk-covered breasts, making my nipples hard. Dipping her tongue into one of my ears, she grasped both my bursting tits and began squeezing and playing with them. Hot moisture oozed into my panties in reply.

We were standing in front of a wall mirror, and I could tell by her sudden change of position that Pru was watching her reflection over her shoulder.

"My mother used to say something about seeing an albino woman over your left shoulder," she muttered, as if to herself. "It's supposed to be good luck." She pulled back and looked into my eyes as if to see how I was taking her remark.

"I hope I'm good luck for you, Pru," I chuckled. "Though I suppose an ordinary white person is less exotic than an albino."

"Everyone is exotic to someone else, girl," she sighed, running one hand gently through my hair. I realized that she knew how it felt to be a coconut among apples, or a swan in a world run by geese, but my feelings stopped me from pursuing this thought. The tingling in my scalp seemed to spread all through my body. "Let's use the sofa," she purred.

I watched Pru's firm, high ass in a pair of loose pants as she led me by the hand to the leather sofa. She unbuttoned the back of my dress, then we reached for each other almost simultaneously. The sight of her willowy brown body with the two black nipples on her tight little breasts made me eager to touch her all over -- but first I wanted the satisfaction she could bring me. She gently pushed me onto my back as her deep brown eyes burned into mine.

"What do you want?" Pru asked me in a low voice. She looked embarrassed, and I saw with surprise that she was nervous. "Do you want me to be the butch and you'll be my woman? Or you want us to be equals and take turns? Do you want my tongue, or what do you like?"

The look of strain on her face showed me how hard it was for her to ask such honest questions. Her courage and her respect for me were breaking my heart.

"Pru," I told her. "I want us to take turns doing everything. I want you to suck my tits and my pussy and I want to learn your whole body by heart."

I stopped talking to kiss her, and this time I gave her my tongue. I felt faintly nauseous with guilt and fear, but I was not going to back down. Like her, I wanted to change my life.

Suddenly Pru slid down my body until her head was level with the soaking hair of my crotch. Gently parting my lower lips, she spread something smooth over my inflamed clit, then darted a pointed tongue over and around everything she could reach. Lightly holding my folds of dense flesh with her teeth, Pru began diligently sucking my pearl toward surrender.

She was teasing me out of my mind, and I wanted more. Just when I thought I would have to settle for what I could get, she touched me where I was hungriest. One, then two gloved fingers slid into my slick, steaming entrance, stroking and teasing me to frenzy. I didn't believe I deserved so much pleasure, but she was giving it to me and I didn't feel as if I had a choice.

I came as though a bomb of pleasure had exploded in my clit. I clutched Pru in relief and amazement as she slid up my body to give me a long, deep, possessive kiss.

"Honey, you're so good," I sighed. She laughed and ruffled my wavy hair in answer.

Slowly, almost lazily, I pressed my hands down the round curve of her buttocks and across her smooth, flat belly to the springy black hair below. I was delighted to find her almost as wet as I was, and squirming with impatience.

"Elizabeth," she breathed into my hair, which was now trailing across her breasts and hard torso as I moved downward. "Kiss me down there."

When I arrived at the swamp between her legs, I gently pushed them farther apart and savored the sight and the smell in front of me. Her hips were rocking in a restrained but definite rhythm that pushed her clit in my face to a regular beat. Her hunger for me was like her hunger for beauty, wealth and space of her own. At that moment, I wished I could give her everything she wanted.

Her pussy was like a ripe fruit waiting to be picked. Much as I wanted to taste her, I knew it was too dangerous. I grabbed a dental dam from a pocket of my jeans on the floor, and shielded her swollen clit with it. I began flicking her with my tongue, then I fastened my mouth on her and sucked. The motion in Pru's hips changed to hard thrusting.

Something more was needed, and I managed to pull on gloves, one at a time, to explore her more thoroughly. After some searching, I found the small, wrinkled entrance to her back pasage and began massaging it with one finger. In a few minutes, my woman was bucking and clutching my head as if she was afraid she might explode.

As the tension in her body subsided, I pulled off the gloves and ran my hands down her long thighs. Sliding upwards, I sucked each of her shiny black nipples, then paused to admire the contented look on her face.

"Beth, you a born lover," she cooed into my ear. I couldn't stand it.

"You could say that," I muttered, tasting the salt in my own saliva. "I've even been called a professional."

Her dark eyes flew open.

"You a ho?" she demanded. "You sell it to men?"

I wanted to cry.

"Not now!" I assured her. "Not any more. I never did that while I was going with a woman. I wouldn't." I'm so honorable, I thought to myself sarcastically.

"Do cocks turn you on?" she inquired coolly. "Or couldn't you find a job doing something else? You really like earning money on your back, girl?"

Tears were stinging my eyes, and I wished I could disappear.

"I don't love it, Pru," I whispered. "I did what I had to do, that's all. I worked for two different escort agencies for about five years, between regular jobs and my classes. Sometimes I pounded the pavements looking for real work but I couldn't find anything, and welfare always screwed me up one way or another."

I paused for breath, and switched to the present tense.

"My degree in Fine Arts just makes most employers think I'm over-qualified or too flaky for an ordinary job, and I can't get any more student loans until I pay back the ones I've already had. What would you do?" I wanted her forgiveness, but I was beginning to hate her for making me defend what I wanted to forget.

"Last time a man mistake me for a ho, I slap him," she spat at me. "I would rather scrub floors than sell pussy." She gathered breath.

I felt dizzy, as though she had thrown me against the wall and beaten me up. I didn't want to hear whatever she might have to say about my sleazy life. I felt an overwhelming urge to fight back.

"How do I know about you, Pru-dence?" I hissed in her face. "What all have you done, and who with?" Her long, hard fingers were still grasping one of my breasts, unwilling to let go.

Pru began to speak, but I didn't really want to hear a roll call of her past lovers. Not now.

"Woman," I interrupted her. "There's still a lot we don't know about each other, but I want to find out everything about you. I'm sick of the lies men always want to hear, and I don't want to play that game with women. Especially with you. That's why I told you the truth."

My eyes were starting to overflow, leaving embarrassing wet tracks on my cheeks to match the wet patch on the leather of Pru's new sofa.

The look in her deep brown eyes revealed an uneasy mixture of anger and compassion.

"Are you ashamed, 'Lizbeth?" she asked thoughtfully. "Are you sorry you let those men use you as a thing?"

Oh shit, I thought. Fuck this.

"I'm sorry there aren't more serious jobs for a person of my abilities, Pru," I said aloud. "I'm sorry the men who paid for the use of my body wouldn't hire me to work in their offices. I'm really sorry this world is mostly run by stupid men who don't know that women are human beings. But I did what I had to do, that's all. Don't tell me you've never had to sell yourself in any way to pay the rent."

Pru's eyes clouded over briefly, as though she were remembering something. Suddenly she wrapped both arms around me and pushed me down underneath her. The hurt she felt was beginning to show in her eyes.

"How did you do it, Beth?" she asked quietly. "Did the johns come pick you up, or did you find them somewhere? What did you wear?"

My face was burning.

"They liked me to wear garter belts, split panties, lacy bras -- you know. Under sexy dresses. They liked colors like red and black, or anything that contrasted with my skin. And spike heels. You know the kind of thing, Pru. We never did anything in the office except make the arrangements. The men liked to think they were taking me out on a date."

The look on Pru's opaque face was hard to read, though her softly stroking fingers sent a message of need and promise into my skin. I could feel a warm current of anger still humming through hers. She was also stiff with embarrassment at her own confused feelings.

"Baby," she begged. "Do you still have the lingerie and jewelry you used to wear for men? Would you wear them for me? Would you let me take you out for a drink and then take you home? Just me and no one else?"

"Oh yes, Pru," I breathed into one of her small ears. "I'll wear anything you like. Just - don't - blame me," I panted. "Or condescend. Or deny my feelings."

Pru kissed me in a way that somehow felt fierce and gentle at the same time.

"I don't want to hurt you, Beth," she mumbled almost inaudibly. She stroked my back persistently. "I'm not one of the assholes who wants to use you."

Her shame seemed to be stuck in her throat. Her eyes pleaded with me.

"I scared for myself, Elizabeth. I got loans up to my eyeballs and they all got to be paid back sometime. If this store doesn't make money, I'm screwed." She sighed in my arms. "I guess we're all scared of ending up on the street, angel woman."

In the crazy flashes of light that bounced off the mirrors, I shifted her weight until I was lying on top.

'Mmm," I hummed, grinding my crotch into hers.

"You'll be all right, Prudence," I soothed her.

I kneaded her shoulders, her arms, her breasts and her belly while the scent from her crotch and her armpits rose to greet me.

"Show it to me, Pru," I whispered.

Her long dark fingers obediently reached down to spread her pussy lips in a classic gesture, exposing her tender purplish interior.

Spreading a square of latex over her delicious flesh, I wondered if I could get the response I wanted. When I fastened my lips on her clit and began flicking it with my tongue, she jerked. Soon I had to withdraw to pull on my gloves, and I felt grateful when she chuckled good-naturedly.

I reached into her with two fingers. I could feel her holding back, afraid of being overwhelmed. Like me, she was terrified of the pit of hunger identified as the irrational slut in every woman.

"I want it, Pru," I insisted. "I won't stop until I get it. I'll just keep going until you give it to me, honey."

I slid up to suck her hard nipples.

"You want to let go," I whispered. "You know you can't hide anything from me. Trust me, baby."

She seized my head, crying out, when her inner muscles rippled around my fingers. I continued to stroke her as she squeezed again and again, greedily wringing sensation from my hand.

"It's all right, honey," I murmured. "I'll hold you. Just don't ever tell me I'm a ho and you're a virgin saint."

She stared into my eyes until I slid up to kiss her, plunging my tongue into her mouth.

Her eyes slowly opened. She breathed heavily before speaking. Her words, of course, were about the store.

"You could work for me for a salary," she suggested quietly, looking at the painted trees on the walls and the jiggling lights from the mirrors. "You know how clothes are made, even though your taste is in the gutter."

I rose on my elbows in indignation, and she pushed me back down, laughing.

"Girl, you'd have to work," she went on. "It's hard to get a new business off the ground and I can't afford any lazy woman in my life.' I laughed with her.

"I can work, honey. I love your store and I want it to be here a long time." The smell of our satisfied bodies seemed to fill the space.

I could feel Pru's nervous exhaustion.

"But can you mix business with pleasure by working with me all day is what I'm asking, sweet woman," she pointed out. "I don't know if you want to be my employee. I don't know if I could handle being your boss. You could be my partner, but you'd have to buy into the store. This a serious entanglement we're discussing."

I caressed her troubled face.

"Pru," I told her. "Don't worry about it. I won't know whether I can stand taking orders from you until I try it. If it works out, I could become your partner. If we can't work together, I still want to give you what you need. Let's see how much of our lives we want to share."

Pru relaxed with a deep sigh, lazily running a hand down my back.

"I not sure I can keep my hands off you," she chuckled.

I looked at her. "I bet you'll love helping women in the fitting rooms," I joked.

She laughed and slapped my behind so that my cheeks quivered.

"You naughty girl," she scolded. "You need a good spanking. I don't intend to molest my customers."

"No, honey," I protested, sliding against her skin. "I don't believe in molesting anybody. I just want to help women get what they want whether men like it or not."

"Mmm," she agreed, squeezing the back of my neck. I suddenly felt tired, and wanted to fall asleep in her arms.

"Hey," she snickered, stroking my face. "Don't close your eyes, woman. You want the customers to find you here like this tomorrow?" I laughed, forcing my eyes open. "Let's go eat something."

Reluctantly I pulled myself off her and stood up, stretching. I reached for my jeans.

"Uggh," she protested. "Baby, no. If you're dining with me, you can't wear those things. Wear the dress I gave you."

Trying to wipe the smile off my face, I retrieved the lingerie and the dress.

"That ís better," she encouraged me.

"Just one thing, Pru," I said humbly, looking into her eyes.

"What's that, sweetheart?" she urged me.

"I can't walk in heels like this. They'll ruin my feet." I didn't like the look of disappointment on her face, but the pain in my feet was worse. "Could I save them for special occasions? With you?"

Pru laughed with delight and wrapped her long arms around me, pulling me close to her.

"Sure, Beth," she breathed into my hair. As soon as she let go, I found a more sensible pair of low heels in the shoe display. I loved the look of admiration on her face as her eyes traveled from my shining hair to my neatly-shod feet and back up my body. When we turned out the light and locked the door, we knew we had started a new phase of our lives.