Tea for
Two by Lisa Bishop
When Sarah said that she had a special birthday surprise for me, she
gave me an address, the name of an inn and what time to be there. No
other instructions, just to show up. When I found the small country
inn on the old country lane, I parked the car next to Sarah's and walked
up to the white picket fence's gate and entered a rose garden, wondering
what my best friend of twenty years was up to that day. Sarah was always
filled with surprises and birthdays were her specialty. Each year she
found something better than the last, and after bungee jumping last
year, I wondered what she had planned this year for my thirtieth birthday.
Walking through the garden on its stone path, I ended up at the inn's
door and rang the brass bell beside the door.
A middle aged woman opened it, and I told her my name and that I was
here to meet Sarah Birch.
"Why yes, we've been expecting you. Ms. Birch is in the parlor, if
you'll follow me," flowed her English accent. I walked slowly behind
the woman, taking in the scent of rose sachet, the ivory lace doilies
beneath elaborate vases of tea roses on antique tables and buffets.
Through the foyer she led me up the hardwood staircase and knocked on
a door near the top of the stairs.
"Enter," I heard Sarah say from behind the door.
"Ms. Birch, your guest has arrived."
As I looked past her, I saw Sarah dressed in a mauve Victorian gown,
her long brown hair pinned up as ringlet tendrils hung near her cheeks
and watched as she pulled the other long white evening glove upon her
hand and smoothed it up to her elbow.
"Gracie, happy birthday!"
"Thanks," I replied, still unable to believe how different my best
friend appeared in that Victorian gown, and felt suddenly underdressed.
"We must get you dressed, its almost time for tea," said Sarah, taking
me by the hand and pulling me to the closet where countless other gowns
hung.
"If that will be all, Ms. Birch, I shall attend to your tea. Please,
ring the bell when you are ready to be served."
"Thank you, Jane."
Sarah rummaged through the closet until she found an emerald green
taffeta gown and held it up to me.
"Interesting," she said, holding up the Juliet sleeves and turning
the hanger so she could see the bustle on the rear. "What do you think?"
"It's nice," I replied, not sure what to do next.
"Don't just stand there, Gracie, get undressed."
I took off my clothes, donning a matching black bra and thong set.
Sarah eyed me and smiled, making me blush as she carefully removed the
gown from the hanger, and set it on the chaise lounge near me. As I
bent over to get it, I knew that Sarah's eyes were upon me, especially
since Sarah outed herself between my twenty-ninth and thirtieth birthday
of this year. The sky-blue brocaded fabric throughout the room and upholstery
reminded me of the French colonial furniture in my aunt's house, the
same furniture that has been covered with plastic for as long as I've
known Sarah.
As I reached for the dress, Sarah removed another set of evening gloves
from a bureau drawer. When I had slipped the dress over me, Sarah was
there before me, helping me into it, pulling my hands through the sleeves
within her own gloved hands, entwining our fingers together. God, she
was gorgeous. Always a beauty queen, no one expected her to announce
that she preferred girls to boys, especially with the knock out fiancˇ
she had acquired that year. I had to break the stare between us.
"So we're having tea today?"
"Yes, high tea, just for your birthday."
"This is interesting, I mean, the gown and all?"
"Where's your sense of adventure, Gracie? You loved playing dress-up
when we were kids."
"We're a long way away from grade school, Sarah."
"You're feeling old about turning thirty, but I'm going to make you
feel young again," she said, zipping up the back of the gown for me.
I looked in the large round vanity mirror and peered at myself as Sarah
handed me the gloves. While I slid them into place, she took a three
strand pearl choker and affixed it about my neck.
"You look incredible," she complimented, smoothing out the folds of
my dress then pushing me down by the shoulders into the vanity chair
that she had tucked beneath me. As Sarah picked up a silver brush, she
released my black hair out of the ponytail that I had affixed before
I left on this adventure. Pulling the hair high on my head, she twisted
the hair about it then pinned it under to make a lovely bun and slid
a beaded comb on the side for effect.
"I'd think we're ready for tea, what do you think?"
"Sure, I'm ready if you are."
Sarah went to the door and rang the bell near it. Immediately, we heard
some chamber music come on in the suite, and Sarah led me to the set
table, complete with a Royal Doulton service and brass napkin rings
that held real roses between the folds of the linen napkin.
"This inn is beautiful," I said, "wherever did you find it?"
"A girl at work told me about it. I checked it out and thought it would
be a lovely birthday surprise for you, especially after seeing Sense
and Sensibility last month."
A knock on the door and Jane was there with a tea cart. She set the
table, complete with a tiered sandwich and cookie platter, a Royal Doulton
tea pot, and a matching creamer and sugar set. When she finished serving
and pouring our tea, Jane left and Sarah quickly took the ivory linen
napkin from the rose napkin holder and placed it in her lap and I did
likewise.
"Jane's walnut bread and cream cheese sandwiches are simply divine,"
Sarah said, adopting almost another persona outside of herself. I raised
my eyebrow to her, and she giggled.
"C'mon Gracie, have a good time. This is supposed to make you feel
young again."
"As if that's going to really happen by playing dress up and tea party."
"Ok, I need to ask you something. If you could do one thing, just one
thing that you've never done before in your entire life, for your birthday,
what would it be?"
"God, I don't know."
"Yes you do," she replied with a coy smile that showed off her dimples.
I loved it when she did that, it extended the cupid's bow of her lips,
those lips that I spend nights fantasizing over.
"No, I don't."
"What's the one thing you fantasize about?" she asked as my face flushed
red with embarrassment. She read my mind. After twenty years together,
she knew everything about me, well at least she thought she did.
I laughed at her, knowing better than to answer that question outright.
Sarah raised an eyebrow at me before picking up her tea cup from its
saucer and putting it to her full luscious lips.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Then I'll guess."
"Go ahead, you'll only embarrass yourself," I replied, as the loose
fitting shoulder of her gown fell down her forearm, exposing the top
of her breast a bit more than it should have. Slowly, one of her gloved
hands moved up her arms to push it back into place, disappointing me.
"Why can't you tell me? I thought I was your bestest friend in the
whole world," she said as I took a bite of a cucumber finger sandwich.
"Sar, I love you, you know that."
"You love me more than as a friend."
"Look, just because you outed yourself this last year doesn't mean
I have to follow suit."
"Who says you have to out yourself? C'mon, Gracie, I know you want
me."
I put the sandwich down on the plate before me then pushed my chair
out from the table. I reached for my clothes and Sarah got up and rushed
over to me.
"Gracie, don't go."
"You're making me feel uncomfortable."
"No, I'm not. Why can't you admit that you want me?"
"Look, I just ended it with Mickey, and I don't think that I'm in a
good place right now, emotionally, that is."
"Who says you have to be emotionally one hundred percent? Don't you
remember when we were kids when we would have sleep overs?"
"Yeah, pretending to be married and all that, please, Sarah, I don't
want to discuss it."
Sarah reached for my hand, and I wanted to pull it away, yet at the
same time, I wanted her to draw me against her. I really wanted her
all along. Sarah knew that. She must have. When she reached up with
her other gloved hand, she drew my face to hers. While her lipstick
smothered my lips, her tongue invaded my mouth, dancing with mine, as
if it had always wanted to do that. I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation
of her kiss and the taste of more than just her mouth.
"I want you, Sarah," I whispered, "I . . . I just can't admit it to
my folks-"
"They're not here, we are. Forget them. It's just us right now."
Her hand reached about my waist and pulled me against hers, crushing
the crinoline between my legs, tickling the skin barely covered by the
thong I wore.
We stood there kissing for what felt like hours, and I wanted her so
badly, that my hands searched her back, finding buttons where a zipper
should have been. Through these gloves there would be no hurry, I was
afraid. Sensing my frustration, Sarah took my hands and set each upon
her perky breasts whose nipples were like rocks peering through the
satin dress she was wearing. I wanted to drop them to my side, but my
hands were compelled to squeeze those globes like ripe melons in the
market until I couldn't stand to have the satin separating them from
me. As I pushed the sleeves down her bodice to her waist, Sarah stopped
and watched me view her there exposed to me. I had seen her naked plenty
times before, in dressing rooms at department stores, but never alone
like this, well not since we were kids. When she pulled me against her
again, my mouth moved from hers to her shoulders, devouring them as
her breasts were squashed against my taffeta gown. I wasn't letting
her go now.
I tasted where she had sprayed perfume between her neck and shoulders,
the bitter taste and sensuous scent that teased my senses as her tongue
attacked my earlobe, poking through the hoop of my earring. As her hand
reached beneath my ass, Sarah held me tightly against her. When she
stepped back, Sarah took my hand and led me to the chaise lounge against
the wall.
Sarah placed me in the corner of its arm before directing my legs and
pivoting my body so that I was fully across the chaise. With my gown
trapped beneath her so that I couldn't move my legs, Sarah straddled
my body. Again our lips met in a fury of passionate kisses. No words
were spoken, none were necessary as she removed each pin and comb from
my hair, until it all fell about my shoulders.
"Have I ever told you how sexy you look with your hair down? If you
were my woman, you'd wear it down all the time."
"Really?" I asked, before she attacked my mouth again. Pinned into
the corner of the brocaded chaise, the taffeta and brocade upholstery
were more slipperier than an icy sidewalk in January and slowly, I began
to lose my grip and slid down the chaise until my back was on the seat
and my head was upon the roll pillow there between me and the chaise
arm. Sarah was relentless and my hands held the breasts that hung in
front of me. I tasted one, for the first time and found it delicious.
No hair to get in the way like a man's, Sarah's skin was soft and smooth,
her nipple as rosy and hard as a pencil eraser, was taut and inviting
to my teeth and tongue. I suckled her and she moaned, a deep sweet sound
that communicated her instant satisfaction with me.
"Oh Gracie," she sighed as I moved onto the other one. Her fingers
went to the wet nipple and kneaded it between the velvet fingertips
as she moaned and bit her lower lip while I nibbled on the nipple and
kneaded the breast with my gloved hand. She moved off of me a moment
later, then put my feet flat on the seat of the chaise so that my knees
were in the air before moving the gown and crinoline over my knees,
exposing my legs to her. Sarah parted my legs as if I was a patient
in the gynecological office where she worked as a nurse. Her gloved
fingertips teased my inner thighs, going from the knee to my moist thonged
pussy, drenching its fabric in nectar for the goddess I've always wanted.
"Are you ready for your birthday present?" she asked, as her eyes met
mine. Pushing aside the thong with her gloved fingers, Sarah slipped
them between the folds of my lips. I nodded and she bent down to kiss
me, while her fingertips found the delta of my sex, then pressed down
upon its pier and flicked it with a plush finger until I moaned through
the kiss. Slowly, she left my side for the end of the chaise. With my
knees upward and the taffeta gown and tulle crinoline blocking my view
of her actions, Sarah's touches excited me all the more as I wondered
what she was doing to me. Her hands I felt but not her skin, just the
sheathed fabric of those gloves, moving in and out of my sex now, teasing
the crack of my ass as her mouth and teeth teased my inner thighs.
"You're so deliciously wet, Gracie. I can't wait to taste you, to eat
you, its what I've dreamed about for years now. Happy birthday," she
said as I felt her tongue invade me. I gasped, feeling it there, and
her hands wrapped under me to pull my torso to the edge of the chaise
like a teenager at the gynecologist's for the first time. My hands wrung
the taffeta gown and I moaned with the deep pleasure I was experiencing.
For years, I, too, had wanted Sarah and I knew that she knew that all
along. My hands went to my breasts, kneading them while she attacked
my wet pussy. I was so close to the edge of climax, my heart raced and
my hands squeezed the blood from my breasts, wanting satisfaction, wanting
to fall over that orgasmic cliff. I wanted Sarah forever. I always had.
Now she was there, between my legs, her tongue satisfying the deepest
of my orifices, her hands and mouth teased me, sucked me, until I could
tolerate no more. My head bobbed from side to side, I felt dizzy, and
so close to orgasm, when her tongue moved away so her fingers could
plummet me. At first there was one, then two velvety fingers. Faster
and deeper they plunged before three entered me, making me moan louder
and louder until I could stand it no longer and released. Sarah moved
the gown up my belly and teased me with wet kisses and her breath until
I playfully batted her away and entwined her moist gloved hand in mine
and moved it up to my face.
"I love you, Gracie, be my lover."
"Yes, always," I replied between breaths, promising away my life to
her and feeling right about it. After all, Sarah and I had been together
for almost twenty years now. We were inseparable, why should sex be
any different? I pulled her face down to mine and attacked her mouth,
tasting my nectar for the first time.
We changed into our casual clothes and hung the Nineteenth century
garb in the closet.
"So what else do you have planned for today?"
"Depends. Your place or mine?"
"Mine, I have so much more to teach you," she said, picking up her
purse then heading for the door.
"Sar-" I said, as she stopped in her tracks. Sarah turned to me, tossing
her hair back to her shoulder.
"Thanks for the best birthday ever."
THE END
Lisa Bishop has been published in Playgirl and Cyber-Mistress. An eclectic
erotica writer, Ms. Bishop will release her latest novel, "Daddy's Home,"
as an e-book this spring. You can email her at venus_coffee@hotmail.com
