Rose sat in Isabelle’s desk chair, swiveling back and forth much as an oldster might occupy a front-porch rocking chair. Izzy lay supine on her bed, toying mindlessly with her hair and staring at the ceiling.
The sixteen-year-olds were classmates, teammates, confidantes, friends since babyhood; continually hanging out together, almost twin-like in their inseparability.
Rose broke a lengthy silence. “What are you gonna wear to the dance next Saturday?”
“I got a new dress for it,” Isabelle replied.
“You bought a dress without taking me shopping?”
“I was out with my mom when I saw it, and they only had one in size 2, so she bought it on the spot.”
“Can I see it?” asked Rose, halting her swivel-chair oscillations.
“In the closet,” said Isabelle lazily, “On the left. Midnight blue.”
Rose hopped down from the chair and went to the closet for a look. She reached in, grabbed a hanger, and pulled Isabelle’s new dress out into the sunlit bedroom. She held it up, admiringly; turned it front to back to check out the cut and ornamentation; turned it back to front again.
“Let me see it on you,” Rose suggested.
Isabelle didn’t really feel like stirring from her bed. “You try it on.”
“Really?”
“Why not? It should fit us about the same.” This was true, as the two girls were much the same size and shape, right down to the so-called vital statistics.
Rose draped the dress over the chair. She unbuttoned her denim short-shorts and wiggled them past her hips. As they fell to the floor she pulled her tank top up and over her head. She turned to pick up the dress, not noticing that Isabelle had stopped fiddling with her hair and was no longer staring at the ceiling.
Isabelle, in fact, was staring at Rose, who stood in panties and camisole as she unzipped the dress and removed the hanger.
In a slightly strained voice, Isabelle said, “Not over your cami. You won’t appreciate the neckline.”
Rose heard the faint undercurrent in her best friend’s voice. They had seen each other in underwear, dressing for events together, and in bikinis at pool parties and the beach, but Isabelle’s suggestion would mean crossing that line, and it had not sounded entirely casual.
Rose put the dress down again. “Like this, Izzy?” she asked, and directly facing the bed, slowly pulled her camisole upward, revealing her waist, her navel, and the undercurve of her breasts. She paused there, locked eyes with Isabelle, and pulled her camisole up over her breasts, baring them, and then over her head. As her hair fell back into place, Rose tossed her head to swing it back over her shoulders.
Isabelle’s eyes darted from Rose’s face, to her breasts, to the lacy panties covering her private parts, then reversed the trip. “Try the dress now,” she whispered.
Rose turned to retrieve it, revealing to Isabelle that her panties were thong-cut and her buns were as bare as her breasts. Her friend’s gasp at the sight was not lost on her.
She slipped the dress over her head, adjusted its position, and reached back to fasten the zipper. She walked back to the closet and shut its door, to use the full-length mirror mounted on it.
“Oh my god, Izzy, almost half my boobs are showing!”
“I’m going to wear a push-up.”
“You want to flash the whole school?”
“I tried it. My nipples don’t show.”
“But, still.”
“Yeah, ok, I want people to notice me. I want attention. Is that so crazy?”
“Jeez, Izzy! You aren’t exactly unknown, Miss Student Council, Miss Top Ten.”
“Exactly. It’s always because I’m smart and work hard and stay out of trouble. I want to be pretty, Rose. I want the boys to notice. I want to make their little dicks hard.”
“Isabelle!” Rose exclaimed, blushing. “Don’t talk like that!”
“I’m just being honest with you. And by the way, since when do you wear fancy lace panties with your butt hanging out? Is that what you wear to school?”
Rose blushed again. “Not with those short kilts, not on your life. No… just… on weekends, sometimes, I like to… feel a little more grown up, even if it’s a secret to everyone else.”
“Take the dress off.” Isabelle turned Rose around and pulled the zipper down. Rose complied. Isabelle took it and tossed it aside. As Rose began to turn back to face her, Isabelle put her hands on Rose’s bare shoulders and stopped her.
“What are you doing,” Rose asked.
“Looking at your panties. Doesn’t it feel weird to have the thong stuck in your crack?”
“I got used to it pretty soon.”
“That would drive me crazy.”
Rose hesitated, biting back the words that had sprung to mind. But… was it really such a big deal? Weren’t they as close and open as two people could be? Hadn’t she already crossed the boundary?
“Try them yourself,” she offered.
“Try… your…”
“Here,” Rose said, slipping her panties down and off. She turned to face Isabelle and offered her panties in an outstretched hand. Her eyes were full of challenge.
“I… I don’t…”
“You’ll never know without trying,” said Rose.
In a daze, suffused with unprecedented thoughts and new, enticing sights, Isabelle hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of her track shorts and panties, and pushed them down her legs together. She took the panties from Rose’s hand. As she stepped into them, she was conscious that her parted legs exposed her privates, and that Rose was watching intently. At the same time, bent over to pull up the panties, she was staring directly at Rose’s girl parts, though Rose’s legs being together meant that there was little to investigate.
Isabelle pulled Rose’s panties into place, covering her mons and offering the slightest relief from exposure. It was Rose’s cue to turn Isabelle around. She knelt behind her friend and tugged the back of the panties up just a bit more firmly.
“How does that feel?” Rose asked.
“Like there’s something stuck in my butt. Like my bikini has crept up and I should reach back and pull it down. Like you’re staring at my ass from an inch away and I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“You were interested in seeing my body.”
“I looked, sure. It’s not like I planned it.”
“Oh, really?” Rose said, “And whose idea was it for me to try on your dress?”
“I was just being lazy!”
“And who told me I couldn’t appreciate the neckline without bare boobs?”
“I… well, it’s true!” Isabelle protested.
“Take your top off,” Rose whispered, rising to her feet and turning her friend to face her. “I want to see you, too.”
“Oh, Rose, I —”
“C’mon now. Fair’s fair.” Without waiting for Isabelle to react, Rose began unbuttoning her shirt for her.
“Rose?”
“Let’s get this off. There. Now the bra. Good. Wow, are we like identical twins or what?”
They turned to the mirror, taking in the sight of their mirror-image figures. Isabelle felt heat, shivers, excitement, embarrassment, fear, anticipation, and sensations without name washing through her body. She felt, and saw in the mirror, her nipples grow erect.
She turned toward Rose to say something, but Rose’s face was already close and they were kissing, each for the first time ever. Isabelle raised her arms to place her hands on Rose’s back, but Rose reached down to grab Isabelle’s bottom. Their kiss deepened, and one of the girls slipped her tongue into the other’s mouth.
In time, they made their way to Isabelle’s bed, and Rose’s panties, soaking wet, were tossed aside. Neither girl knew what to do, nor what to expect, nor anything else but the immediacy, excitement, desire, and passion of the moment.
Mouths found breasts. Hands found asses. Legs entwined. Fingers found pussies. Pussies were opened so eyes could explore. And inevitably, lips and tongues were drawn to open pussies to feast on secret pink flesh and flowing girl-cream.
The first one to cum did so keening and squealing, crying out in ecstasy and gratitude. The noises drowned out all other sounds.
So when Isabelle’s father appeared in the bedroom doorway, it was a complete surprise.
— Frenulum
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