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"Hey," Tamara said, not moving an inch. "Did you hear me? I said I didn't believe you. You said something. Tell me what." Christine stammered a few moments more, then stood up. She couldn't look at Tamara, she didn't know how she'd ever be able to look at her again. She wanted to go back in, run to her room and never come out. She couldn't tell Tamara what she'd said. The idea tore her apart inside. Tamara's hand snaked out and wrapped itself around Christine's bare ankle. "Come on," she said softly. "What's wrong with you? You said something, I just asked you what it was. Don't be scared." There was something in her voice, and it wasn't harsh or exasperated - it was soft and coaxing. And curious. Christine swallowed. "I just said you were so damned beautiful," she said. There. She'd said it. There was no point in trying to masquerade, to hide behind the pretense that she'd been talking about the day being beautiful, or how nice Tamara's hair looked today. She knew if she tried that she'd only stumble over her words. Her lie would paint itself on her face in glaring colors. "Oh. Well, thank you." Tamara's smile was all in her voice. Her fingers loosened themselves on Christine's ankle, then tightened again. Loosen. Tighten. Loosen. Tighten. Like a cat playing with a mouse, Christine thought. "You're pretty beautiful yourself," Tamara said. "Did you know that?" "No," Christine said, shaking her head. She knew the denial sounded strange, but it came out of her mouth reflexively. She wasn't beautiful, she knew that. She'd always known that. "Ever look in a mirror?" Tamara told her. Her voice was lazy, as though she'd just as soon close her eyes and go to sleep as talk. But she'd chosen to talk instead, and Christine felt like she should be flattered. "That shiny blonde hair of yours. It's cute the way you got it cut, nice and short. I told you that when you came home from the salon, but you wouldn't listen to me. And you got a nice body. Lots of girls would like a body like yours." Tamara released Christine's ankle, but she was drawing her nails slowly up and down over the top of her foot now, up and down, up and down. The sensation was delicious. There was something proprietary in it as well. Christine knew she couldn't just walk away now. She hadn't been released. All she could do was stand there with her book in her hand, head thrown back, sighing and wriggling her toes. "I'd like a body like yours," Tamara told her. "But yours is so...so..." "I didn't say I wanted to trade bodies with you," Tamara laughed, rising up on one elbow. "I said I'd like to have your body. To play with. To do things to. Why don't you take your clothes off and lie down here with me?" Christine felt light-headed, as though she'd just drank a straight vodka on an empty stomach. Numbly, she groped at the buttons on her shorts. Then she was pushing them down and stepping out of them. In the moment when her arms were lifted to pull her t-shirt off, she felt strangely, wonderfully vulnerable. An image came to her of Tamara leaping to her feet and jumping her, wrapping arms around her and bearing her down to the floor. It made gooseflesh rise on her arms and belly. It ended all too soon. Now she was standing with her shirt in hand, her shorts in a heap at her feet, looking shyly at Tamara, silently asking for her approval. "Panties too," Tamara smiled, folding her hands behind her head. She lifted one long, brown leg and prodded playfully at Christine's thigh with her toes. "And your bra. Show me your titties. Show me your pussy." Christine did it. As hot as the balcony was, she felt chilled with nothing on. Her nipples were sticking straight out and she kept her cunt-muscles clenched, so wet that she was vaguely afraid that the juice would begin trickling out of her and down her leg. "That's good," Tamara told her. Her leg rose again to press the sole of her foot against Christine's belly. The lazy clenching of her toes pinched at Christine's skin. "You can touch me, you know," Tamara said lazily, and then something broke inside Christine and she was holding Tamara's foot in her hand, kissing it feverishly. END
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