"I'm getting podgy," Melinda groused over her second glass of wine. With a sigh she pinched her stomach through her dress. "See that? Fat."

"You're not podgy," her best friend Cassidy laughed over her own glass, before reaching out to tickle Mel's tummy—and causing her to almost spill the wine. As her redheaded friend giggled, Cassidy leaned in close and reassured her, "You've got a wonderful figure! You're so curvy. It makes me jealous; I'm no washboard but you girl, you are something else."

Mel shook her head, curls almost as dark and rich as the alcohol in her glass swaying. "I've put on two pounds. That's almost a kilo! A kilo! This dress is getting tight!" Her sharp-cut dress continued the crimson theme, being a rich and lustrous red colour that stood out against her creamy skin. And yes, it was tight.

"You're damn right it's tight. Didn't you notice my husband staring before he left? He could barely take his eyes off your boobs, woman. Except when he was looking at your ass." Cassidy reached out and lightly brushed the articles in question with her fingers, noticing the hissing intake of breath as she playfully tweaked her friend's sensitive body. She redoubled her efforts and the redhead squealed, lying lengthwise on her back as wine lapped around the edges of her cup. Cassidy tried to lunge, fingers wiggling and smile wide, but Mel blocked her path with a foot on her chest, pale and dainty with red-painted toenails. It was a useless gesture, for the blonde simply tickled that instead. Soon her best friend had surrendered, and Cassidy's fingers were roving over her chest and flanks once again. Inhibitions lowered with the wine they'd both imbibed, Mel didn't respond to the advances like she would with a man. They were just friends playing around. Right?

"S-seriously though Cassidy, it bothers me a bit. I could do with losing a few pounds. Hey, you and Alex are fitness freaks. Maybe you could recommend a gym or something?"

Cassidy, slim and blonde in her flower-print dress, ran her hands over Mel's voluptuous body as she continued to reassure her. "If you want, but see, I'm feeling your figure out here and you're fine. It's healthy to have a bit of body fat," she murmured as Mel quivered softly—friendly or not, she wouldn't be like this sober. But whilst Mel knew this was going slightly beyond a joke, the haze of wine was making it hard to care. Cassidy sometimes got like this after a few drinks; it was normal, something to tease her about the next morning. Besides, she thought shakily, it wasn't like enjoying it meant she was bi or anything. She'd just been frustrated lately, and ooh, Cassidy had such deft hands...

Then Cassidy pulled back, and part of Melinda was disappointed.

"You know, there is another way to have exercise." She grinned cheekily, and Mel knew she was going somewhere with this."You know sex burns calories, right? Just get a bit more lively in the bedroom. Try a few different positions. Ride that dick, baby." She giggled.

But Melinda's expression turned sour. Part of it was the wine, and part of it the arousal that she'd been trying to pretend hadn't been leaking into her black frilly knickers ever since Cassidy began touching her. But most of it was her own mounting and festering frustration. "It doesn't matter what position I use, you can't get a workout from five minutes."

Cassidy, who was afraid the angry expression was a sign she'd gone too far, fell silent for a second as she processed this information and her suspicions fell into place. "Larry's no good?" She asked slowly.

Mel sighed. "Not usually. He never slows down for me and doesn't seem to care. I have to moan a bit so he doesn't get annoyed or call me frigid, but he doesn't really work hard at it. And he never goes down on me any more."

There was a click as Cassidy put her glass down, humour forgotten. Mel downed her own glass.

"Do you ever cum?"

Mel hesitated. "Sometimes, yeah. Like last week—wait, no, it was the Sunday so technically the week before. Usually when he goes out with his mates, if he's not too drunk, he does me then falls asleep. The beer makes him take longer, so I'm more likely to cum then. Except sometimes he lasts long enough to get me close then cums and falls asleep, which leaves me hanging. And that's awful. Do we have more wine?"

"We do. And that is awful." The blonde poured another glass. And then came the million-dollar question. "Have you ever thought about sleeping with someone else? Someone who can really wear you out?"

"Like who?"

Cassidy grinned. "I don't mind going down on girls. And my husband lasts an hour."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Oh god Cassidy, don't stop!"

Cassidy wouldn't dream of it. Buried deep between her best friend's legs, a faceful of wet and neglected pussy aching for her attention, the blonde's tongue moved deftly to solve Melinda's sexual frustration. From long licks of the labial lips to sweet lappings at the clitoris, with sucking and teasing and humming vibrations, her mouth sent pleasure through the redhead's body, set her curvy frame tensing and buckling. Her good-for-nothing boyfriend's dick couldn't compare. Nor could his tongue; Cassidy didn't hold with the idea that women were always better, but there were a lot of men who just ate pussy because it was expected of them, with no interest or understanding of the womanly body. But she had both, and with it she made an artform of pleasuring her neglected friend.

Mel whimpered and moaned, her tongue loosened by both pleasure and tipsiness. The pleasant buzz of alcohol complemented the sweet sensations steadily engulfing her body as Cassidy's soft tongue danced over her slippery folds, as her firm hands massaged Mel's ample backside, as Mel began to play with her nipples on breasts now bared from beneath that tight dress. Although they'd never done this before Cass seemed to know exactly what to do, how to touch her, which places to stimulate to build her pleasure higher and higher. It was as if she knew by instinct how to please a woman.

The truth was slightly different. As Mel gasped and squirmed underneath Cassidy's tongue, the blonde kept careful notice of how exactly the redhaired bombshell responded to each action. At first her tongue roamed wildly, testing the waters, finding what got moans and what got squeaks of delight, how hard Mel liked it, what kind-of worked and what really worked, and as she found what got Mel's motor running she began to focus on those motions and places. There's no single route to ecstacy which works for everyone, or so Cassidy would tell you if her mouth were not otherwise occupied, but her skill lay in finding Mel's path and walking it with her in style.

An orgasm was rising. Mel could feel the pleasure, the need building, knew that soon it would crest and break and flood her with fulfilment. There was no doubt that she would get there. How could she not? Compared to Larry's occasional uninspired laps at her pussy, Cassidy's technique was worlds apart. This feeling was so rare these days, this rising need and beautiful release, and so often she feared to lose herself to it. Often she would find herself unable to let go and accept the pleasure, become awkward and clenched up, afraid her boyfriend would let her down as he so often did and leave her screaming inwardly on the frustrated brink of release. But Cassidy, she knew on some primal level, would never let her down.

Nor did she. When the moment came Melinda's eyes widened and her back arched and her painted toes curled as the orgasm hit her like a lightning bolt from heaven, turning her into a thrashing wreck before reducing her to quivering jelly. And Cassidy kept on eating through the screams, through the bucking of the hips, through the spasming of the beautiful petals which her tongue lashed with practiced motions. She kept her head down and kept on working as thick thighs squeezed around her head, as her best friend cried out her joy. "Oh god, oh god, it's so—I feel so—ooohhh!!"

Even though she was wearing Mel's thighs for ear mufflers, the shrieks rang out clear in Cassidy's ears. She would have smiled if her lips weren't far too busy. As it was, she just kept going and felt like a heroine. In time Mel began to relax, ecstatic tides receding, but then Cassidy moved and put her lips to Mel's clitoris and did something with her fingers and–

"Cassidy!"

She came again. She'd never had multiple orgasms like that, ever. In a quarter of an hour her best friend had given her more pleasure than her loser boyfriend had managed in a month.

When it ended Cassidy was breathing hard, grinning from ear to ear whilst Melinda lay on the sofa in her now-bedraggled dress, eyes unfocused as she smiled up at the ceiling, enormous breasts heaving. The world had moved for her. When she came to her senses she looked at her friend adoringly and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I need to repay you, but I've never gone down on a girl before. Please, just tell me what to do."

Cassidy smirked. "Won't your boyfriend be expecting you?"

"Who cares?"

The blonde's smirk widened as she slid off the white, silken panties beneath her flowery dress. "Well said. Besides, it's not the first time you've stayed over. He'll be clueless." She threw her knickers aside. "Tomorrow I'll talk to Alex, get you your," her eyebrows rose, "'exercise regime' sorted out." Then she kissed the other woman's neck, making her moan. "But enough about men. We can make a start on your workout right now."

Cassidy leaned forwards mischievously. 

"Have you ever heard of tribadism?"