Glasses.
Monday July 25, 2011
“This way, girls,” says Ms. Ackerman, and they file into the empty shower room, all of them wrapped in brief white towels, Margot’s and Ilya’s and Joey Rose’s tucked up under their armpits and just barely covering them from nipple to crotch. Morgan’s towel is wrapped like a sarong about her waist. Ms. Ackerman undoes her towel and lets it fall to the floor there by the doorway, and naked goes to turn on three of the shower nozzles, one after another. “Okay, girls,” she says, walking back to them through the gathering steam. “Off with the towels. Go on.”
And not looking at each other or at Ms. Ackerman or at Morgan smirking arms akimbo, Margot and Ilya and Joey Rose tug their towels away and let them fall.
“This is your first meeting,” says Ms. Ackerman, over the rush of the showers, as the girls all look at their bare feet on the tile. “Meetings are always safe spaces, not only from the outside, but from us inside as well. There’s one rule that keeps it safe. Morgan?”
“Always say yes,” says Morgan.
“Always say yes, unless you must say no,” says Ms. Ackerman. “You can ask for anything at a meeting and know that you won’t be laughed at and you won’t be rejected. It’s a safe space, to try things, to learn what you want and how, and maybe even why. Morgan, I want you to kiss me.”
“Yes, Ms. Ackerman,” says Morgan, and steps up close to Ms. Ackerman, pressed against her, and they share a long and rolling, licking kiss. Margot’s looking at the floor through her thick glasses fogging with steam, and Ilya’s winding a long strand of white-blond hair about her fingers, and Joey Rose is biting her lip in a grin.
“Ms. Ackerman,” says Morgan when she pulls her mouth away. “I want you to lick my ass.”
Margot looks up, and Ilya looks away, and Joey Rose lets out a sudden snort of laughter. Ms. Ackerman steps back, pulling Morgan’s towel away, and kneels as Morgan turns and bends over a little. Her hands on the cheeks of Morgan’s ass Ms. Ackerman leans forward and licks the length of it, kissing and worrying the pucker of her anus with her tongue, and Morgan isn’t smirking anymore.
“Wow,” says Margot.
“Okay?” says Ms. Ackerman, sitting back on her heels, swiping her long damp blond hair back over her shoulders. “Ask anything of anyone. Always say yes.”
“Ilya?” says Morgan, and little pale Ilya, with no tits and no hips to speak of, blushes furiously. “Ilya, I want to kiss you under the shower.” And Ilya trembling jerks her head in a nod and almost runs to take Morgan’s hand.
“Well, girls?” says Ms. Ackerman, as they watch Morgan and Ilya melting together under the water, skin slickery shining with soapy gel, mouths locked in enormously hungry kisses. “Joey, is there anything you want to do? Margot? Do you like what you see?”
“How can she see anything through those glasses?” says Joey Rose, and Ms. Ackerman says “Joey” sternly. “I meant,” says Joey Rose, “I meant the steam – ”
“Come here,” says Ms. Ackerman, and both girls nod and step over to her. “Joey Rose,” says Ms. Ackerman. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”
“I, well, no,” says Joey Rose, looking down at her feet.
“Margot?”
“I’ve never kissed anybody,” says Margot in a thin little voice.
“Then girls,” says Ms. Ackerman, her arms slipping about their shoulders, pulling them together, “I want to watch you kiss each other. Go on.” And Joey Rose nods, and Margot swallowing whispers a soft little “Yes.”
Ilya’s babbling back against the tile wall under the shower nozzle Morgan on her knees water splashing her back her fingers and tongue and lips busy with Ilya’s pussy. “Mm,” says Ms. Ackerman, a hand on the back of Margot’s head, a hand on the back of Joey Rose’s. “That’s nice.” Guiding them, pressing them together. “Now open your mouths. That’s it. Yes.”