"It's Italian for pussy. Isn't that a good enough reason?"
I'd felt really good after my evening with Gina. I was pleased that it wasn't horribly humiliating. I was willingly doing it for my sake, but I was happy that she got more than just good sex from it. I think that, because she willingly accepted the role of student and gave me the role of mentor, I started looking at women differently. Maybe it's my long dormant maternal instinct kicking in. I have no desire to have children. I can't even picture myself living with a man. But I now have a desire to share myself and my life's experiences with others.
My next step is to find a woman that I previously would have considered inferior to me and, if possible, to select one I owed something to. Of course, my thoughts turned to the women who had licked my pussy to pay their respects to me as a better dancer and a more beautiful woman. The thing is, I don't really owe them anything. I wasn't nice to them, but they had no reason to expect me to be nice. It's how the game is played. I wouldn't ever treat a woman that way again, but I didn't see the point of tracking any of then down, assuming I could even remember their faces. I realize how that makes me sound, but I only have a good memory for details when I like something, and I didn't really like any of these girls.
But I did find myself looking at every woman who wasn't as beautiful as me, which is pretty darn to close to all of them, and asking myself whether I would do her. I surprised myself with how often the answer was, "Sure, if I owed her a favor." But my two weeks before my grovel date with Candy passed and I still hadn't found a candidate. I had managed to find some music for the Paso Doble, get Carlo's agreement on it, and start training with Rondell, but I began to wonder if I should broaden my definition of what warranted such a gift. Carlo did say that it would be better if I owed her something, but not that it would be mandatory.
I get to Candy's house on time and we sit facing each other and drinking coffee. After delivering my apology in person and letting her pry out everything that happened on the night of Linda's wedding, including how Brett spanked my ass while I wished he was Carlo, all she wants to talk about is my visit with Carlo in Boston. Fortunately, we seem to be getting along really well. I show her my pendant and I'm quite pleased by her envious response. I tell her about the dance we plan to do at the next Lane wedding. To avoid telling her about the bargain I made with Carlo for the dance, I bring up the fact that she said she might have some exciting news for me.
"Yes!", She squeals. "Charlie proposed to me! I haven't said yes, yet, but I'm going to when I visit him next weekend."
I congratulate her. I'm so happy for her and I show it. I tell her to catch me up on everything that's been happening. She explains that she was faithful to Charlie since their first meeting, but that when she wasn't ready to commit to marriage right away, Charlie told her she could have a month to do anything she wanted with anybody she wanted, except for him, and then if she still wasn't ready, they would go their separate ways. So basically, she had one more week to sow her wild oats.
"You mean you're available?"
"Well yeah, Cindy, but if you're thinking of hitting the clubs, I have to say that I'm really not interested in a cock hunt. The only guy I can think of is Charlie, and that's why I'm ready to commit."
"Um... I'm not thinking of a cock hunt, Candy."
Candy isn't a stranger to girl-girl sex. I know she's paid her respects before and had some respects paid to her. She gave that up and went all-guy a few years ago, because she realized she wasn't interested in perfecting her dancing and wouldn't likely become the kind of beautiful that could make her a dance scene royal. I couldn't think of any women who fit the description of the woman I was looking for better than she did. I'd been mean to her many times and she had just taken it from me, when I know she wouldn't have taken the crap that I gave her from anybody else. I owe her.
She's fresh out of the shower and wearing a long bathrobe and keeping her goods covered, a remnant of the strain in our relationship. She's more of her own person now than I think she's ever been. Living alone has done something to her. Her hair is almost dry and it's more unkempt than I have ever seen it. She's wearing no makeup and doesn't seem the least bit self-conscious about it. It's a bold statement from her and I find myself sexually moved by it. By that I mean I want to jump her bones but I feel a little intimidated as well. I decide to be direct.
"Please, Candy, may I lick your fica?"
That is how I come to be teaching my favorite sister a poco of Italiano.
"What the fuck is a fica, Cindy, and why the hell should I let you lick mine?"
"It's Italian for pussy. Isn't that a good enough reason?"
Candy gets that deer-in-the-headlights look and her jaw drops. "I uh... uh..."
"Please, Candy. It would mean a lot to me. I owe you so many apologies for things I've done over the years and I think this would be good for both of us."
She seems to recover some poise and she gets an odd little smirk on her face. "Who are you and what have you done with my favorite sister?"
"I'm me dammit, Candace Marie Lane. I'm on my way to becoming the new and improved Cynthia Alice Sawyer. I told you that Carlo has a way of changing people."
"Cindeeeeee, did you fuck my favorite cugino?"
"No," I sadly admit. "He even turned down a blowjob from me."
She laughs. "That must have hurt."
"A little, but considering that he had just taught me how to lick a woman like a woman should be licked -- by demonstrating on me -- I wasn't too upset."
"Oh... My... God! You are so lucky that he's not your blood cousin. Well if Carlo taught you, I've just GOT to experience this." I see the wheels grinding in her head and I suddenly dread what might come next. "But I've got some conditions."
"Oh, no. What are they?"
"I will need 'something borrowed' for my wedding. Your pendant will look beautiful with my wedding dress. I'll make sure of it."
"Easily done. I'll explain it to Carlo."
"You and Carlo will dance your dance just before we leave, not after. That would be the best wedding present you could give me."
I'm delighted. "Okay, if Carlo agrees. I think he'll be honored. Anything else?"
She suddenly seems uncertain. "This is not a condition, Cindy. This is a request. Will you be my Maid of Honor?"
"Oh, Candy. Thank you. I will. And I promise, I won't even get all bitchy about the bridesmaid's dresses. I promise I will do my best to make it your special day."
She stands then and I leap up to hug her. We kiss and it turns into a very sensual kiss. I feel the rise and fall of her breath and feel her tears on my cheek. I cry, too. I slip my hand between us and untie the belt of her robe. I push the thin cotton robe off her shoulders and step back. Her hands drop and the robe slides to the floor. I take in the sight of her and it lights a fire in my cunt. She looks radiant. I'm familiar with her body from years of living with her, but she's different now. She's let her curves become a little more pronounced and I sense the Lane baby factory gearing up for production. It looks good on her. She's also let her pubic hair grow and I never realized how wild and wooly it could be.
"Wow! It looks like I'll be earning my bush pilot wings today."
She giggles. "Charlie likes me this way. I'll trim for swimsuit season, but that will be after his next visit. You don't, mind?"
"Of course not. You look positively beautiful, Candy."
"Thank you. Now it's my turn. Strip, nice and slow."
As she sits back on her sofa, I say, "Yes, Ma'am." I think we're both surprised at how natural that sounded and we both giggle nervously.
"Charlie has been encouraging me to be a little more... demanding."
"It sounds like a little more commanding to me. Carlo encouraged me to be a little more... accommodating." Sensing an opportunity, I add, "Would you like to practice on me?"
Her smile is her answer. "Wait." She jumps up and rushes to her entertainment center. She pops a CD into the player and I hear a surprisingly slow put primal beat start. I know this song. It normally starts out fast and becomes more frantic as it plays for about 5 minutes. At this pace, it will easily run for twice that long. I wonder where she got this version.
"Now begin."
"Yes, Ma'am."
I match my body to the pace of the music and begin a slow strip tease. We used to practice stripping in front of each other, and that lead to some of the moves I use when dancing. I don't have a pole to dance with, but I spontaneously invent creative uses for a dining chair as I slowly remove my clothing and undulate in front of her.
