Cleo had been quite self-possessed, but now, when she spoke, her voice had become unsteady. "I'd love to be a Wanderlust hostess on the same plane with you. To make sure." (Gasp.) "I did everything right."

Cleo's hand came up as unsteadily as Helen's had, and one by one undid the buttons of the uniform blouse and pushed the blouse off Helen's shoulders.

Then the mini-bra opened as Cleo's hand crept around in back and found the snap. The mini-bra hung on Helen's hot, thrusting nipples. She herself slid it away down an arm and dropped it.

Cleo cupped Helen's breasts, joggled them gently. "You're so firm, dear," she murmured.

"I'll show you all the – the pectoral muscle exercises. Not that you need them, dearest girl. Oh, your breasts are so lovely, so lovely…"

Somehow they found themselves standing. They were just of a height. Cleo slid her own hands beneath her breasts and pushed them up and forward.

"I'm not sure, but… I have a feeling that if we…"

She had the right instincts, thought Helen, who lifted her own breasts and held her nipples against Cleo's. They played a delightful game, rubbing their hard nips around and around each other's corollas. It got Helen so hot she went weak in the knees.

Cleo seemed to thrive on it. She had talked of having no experience with lesbian techniques, but she seemed naturally attuned to the arts of ancient Lesbos. Again she did the right thing.

She placed her nips firmly against Helen's quivering nips and she embraced her partner and took her lips in a delicious kiss.

Their tongues met and slid upon each other in the heated spaces of their sex-hungry mouths. They sucked each other's tongues and made little half-smothered cries of passion. Meanwhile they worked at each other's remaining clothing, and almost at the same moment were down to their scanty panties.