THE PASTRY SALE SeXStoRY

THE PASTRY SALE Every year, and sometimes even twice a year, the ladies of St.Mark’s Church organized a pastry sale to help finance the upkeep of the church. The parish of St. Mark was an affluent one where many professionals resided and also, since the establishment of a Revlon factory, many single women who worked in the profitable field of beauty products. It was difficult to get the younger women to participate in church affairs but Marjorie Halpern had managed to gather half a dozen middle-age women to take part in some activities. They came from all over the country especially those in the marketing and design segments of the business. Of course the old gals, some much older than Marjorie — she was 48 — were always the first ones to offer to bake while the others, those from the factory, had offered their services to organize the event, rent tables and chairs, and have activities for the c***dren. Since her husband had left her for a younger woman five years ago, Marjorie was keeping busy with a part-time job at the local library and some part-time work during the summer at the nursery and flower shop. That’s where she had met Yolanda Pelligrini about two weeks before the pastry sale. Yolanda had just arrived from New York and had been hired by Revlon to run their design department. Although born here, Yolanda had inherited her design skills from her father who had quite a reputation back in Italy. Marjorie and Yolanda hit it off. They both liked flowers, books, art, music, and a host of other activities. Yolanda was single, in her mid-forties, and had worked all over the world with Revlon. She was “so sophisticated”, as Yolanda put it to Mrs. Inglis who was the church organist. In those two weeks, the new friends saw each other a number of times and, of course, Yolanda had promised to help with the pastry sale. The morning of the sale, Marjorie wore her pale yellow dress with the dark belt, her matching high-heels and had had her hair done. Her hair was lovely, with curly tips hanging all along her forehead, and brought many compliments from “the girls” more used to seeing her in a pony tail. Marjorie was quite proud of herself. “No, no, no…not there”, Marjorie heard over the low buzz of the ladies. “Put the banner where we can see it”, continued the deep voice Marjorie recognized as Yolanda’s. “Hey..there you are”, Marjorie said with excitement. “Yep…been here awhile”, answered Yolanda, giving Marjorie a kiss on both cheeks. “Luckily for you, lady, because nobody would have seen you banner”, she continued. “Oh thank you for coming”, gushed Marjorie as she hugged her friend, taking in a whiff of her subtle perfume. “You smell nice”, she told the Italian. “I know”, answered Yolanda with a smile. “Now LOOK at you”, she cried out, putting her hands on Marjorie’s shoulders and holding her at arm’s length so she could have a better look. “I’m so used to seeing you in jeans, you look wonderful”, added Yolanda. Marjorie was glowing. “One thing though”, whispered Yolanda into her friend’s hear, “the dress doesn’t show up your butt as well”, she continued. Marjorie blushed deep red. “Silly girl”, she could only mutter. Yolanda had decided to wear a simple pleated summer skirt with a beige blouse and flat shoes. For her, a Revlon representative, it was dressing down. The two women joined the rest of the crowd and spent the entire afternoon selling pastries, talking to the older women in the community and bringing water to the waiting men who had gathered in the parking lot. The sun was hot and everyone tried to catch some shade. Marjorie wished she hadn’t put on a bra but it seemed like the thing to do for a church activity. On the other hand, Yolanda’s small breasts were breathing very well under her cotton blouse and didn’t attact any raised highbrows. The event dragged on a bit but when the c***dren began to misbehave and the men found a reason to return home, the pastry sale came to an end. Marjorie stayed to clean up and was happy to hear Yolanda offer her help. The older women protested a little when Marjorie told them she could handle it but were glad to get back to a cool house. The two friends carried tables, chairs, tablecloths and other accessories to the large garden shed behind the church. They put everything in the first room since the other smaller room was locked and Marjorie didn’t have the key. They were both sweating and giggling. When the last chair had been put in the shed, Marjorie sat on it looking exhausted. Yolanda stood behind her and massaged her shoulders. “Mmmmmmm…that feels so good”, purred Marjorie. Yolanda bent over and gently kissed the other woman’s neck. Marjorie’s body stiffened and she pushed the back of her head against Yolanda’s stomach. She could smell her sweat through her fresh clothes. Yolanda’s hands left Marjorie’s shoulders and slid under the top of her dress to down to her friend’s breasts. Marjorie hissed as Yolanda’s fingers first touched the top of her bra-covered breasts then moved a few inches to tease the hard nipples. Yolanda quickly walked around the chair and knelt in front of Marjorie. She pushed the wide yellow dress with both hands up along Marjorie’s thighs to her waist until the white V of her panties came into full view. Marjorie’s eyes look like they were going to come out of their orbits and sweat was dripping from her brow down her face to her chin. Marjorie lifted herself from the chair, reached under her, slipped off her panties with one full movement and crossed her legs around Yolanda’s neck. The Italian lesbian opened the white thighs with both hands and pushed her face between them. The smell of Marjorie’s wetness filled her nostrils as she parted Marjorie’s cunt lips with her tongue. Marjorie let out a short cry, more like a hiccup, when Yolanda’s hard tongue flipped her clit backwards. Marjorie entangled her fingers in Yolanda’s jet-black hair, pushed her back and fell on top of her. What followed took only a few seconds but looked like it had been rehearsed for months. Both women were struggling on the hardwood floor, a love struggle that is, and while Yolanda had managed to keep her mouth inches from Marjorie’s hairy cunt, Marjorie had moved her own head towards the Italian woman’s belly. She raised raised her skirt and, with some difficulty, pushed her panties around her ankles. As if she had done this a thousand times, Marjorie slid over her lover and began to lick Yolanda’s mound. The two women rolled about on the floor, each trying to make their intimate embrace more comfortable, pushing fabric out of the way, opening their own thighs as wide as their clothing would permit, until finally they seem to settle lying sideways to each other. Hands reached for full asscheeks and fingers found their way into the valley between them. Both women were emitting muffled cries and soon their hip movements were coordinated. They had stopped moving, except for their fingers exploring each other’s ass, and sucking noises were the only sound to be heard as they undulated against each other in perfect harmony. Marjorie was the first to reach orgasm and she began to sob loudly. She stopped abruptly when she felt Yolanda squirt against her face. Sobs gave way to giggles as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to catch as much of Yolanda’s love juices as possible. The hip movements slowed down and both women were catching their breath, still clinging to the other’s ass with their hands. Eventually both women rolled over onto their back. Neither wanted to get up. Suddenly they heard a door open (they had closed the main door) and footsteps which made the floor boards creak. Both women sat up. Two figures had come out of the small locked room. Marjorie reached for her clothes and Yolanda, on all fours, tried to hide behind some chairs. A beam of light from the setting sun shone through a side window. Marjorie could clearly see the two figures. One was half-dressed, the other was naked and carrying clothes. Marjorie smiled and gave Yolanda a gentle push and a wink. Marjorie boldly got up and confronted the two figures. Mrs. Amstrong shrieked and Mrs. Richardson tried to cover her body with her clothes. Yolanda had risen and stood next to Marjorie. She observed the two women in their late 60s stare at them in shame and disbelief. Obviously the two widows had begun their lovemaking before Marjorie and Yolanda had returned the furniture to the shed and thought they had long left. Nobody said a word. Smiling Yolanda walked to the main door and locked it. Marjorie slipped out of her dress and stood naked, soon joined by her nude lover. Marjorie approached the ladies. “So…how should we do this ?”, said Marjorie, as Yolanda’s slid her finger between Mrs. Richardson’s breasts down to her patch of pubic hair. THE END