“A natural enough focus of interest,” Jonathan Relevant interjected. “It’s a superb body.”
“Yes. I know. But when I was younger it used to disgust me that men treated me as just a body with no identity except my sex appeal. Then I met the chancellor. He was truly interested in my mind, in me for myself, not just in my breasts and legs and all that. So when he proposed, I accepted—-despite the difference in our ages. Only now I find that I miss—Well, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” And somehow Jonathan Relevant did know.
“So I sublimate.” Nancy sighed. “And that’s why my nose is purple.”
“Is that why your feet are purple too?” Jonathan Relevant inquired.
“Oh, dear. I should have put my shoes on. I hope I haven’t tracked up the rug. It might not come out.”
“Also, your dress is stained.”
“That doesn’t matter. It’s not really a dress. Just a sort of smock I wear around the house when I’m doing messy jobs. I put it on because it’s loose enough so I don’t have to wear anything underneath it. A bra, even the elastic on panties. I can’t stand the way they interfere with my freedom of movement. You know how it is,” Nancy added, woman to woman.
“Whether it’s a dress, or a smock, it’s very becoming. The purple spots really set off your figure.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to know that something good comes out of wallowing in those damn grapes.”
“Grapes?”
“Grapes. That’s what the purple is from,” Nancy explained. “I’ve got ten crates of the damn things down the basement.”
“You mean you bought ten crates of grapes?”
“No. I don’t buy grapes. Because of the way they treat the migrant workers and won’t let them form a union so they can get a living wage, you know. The ten crates were a gift. From the Governor of California. He probably got them as a payoff for pushing subsidies for the growers. Anyway, he sent them after my husband made this speech about cracking down on campus dissidents. You know, how their scholarships should be canceled and they should be drafted and put in the front lines in Vietnam as an object lesson so maybe they’d appreciate the democratic ideal more. So the governor sent him a telegram saying how he agreed and admired the chancellor’s toughness, and along with the telegram came these ten crates of California grapes.”
“I see.” Jonathan Relevant plucked at an eyebrow.
“So I’m making grape jelly down the basement. I trample the grapes in a vat down there. It’s a lot more strenuous than I thought it would be.”
“Sublimation,” Jonathan reminded her, patting a stray blond curl into place.
“That’s what I thought. But now I’m not so sure. I mean, that’s a pretty basic thing to be doing-—bouncing up and down on grapes barefoot. A certain——umm—-rhythm is established. Do you see what I mean?”
“No, but I’d like to.” Jonathan Relevant plumped up his breasts speculatively.
“Why don’t you come downstairs and watch for a while?”
“All right.”
Nancy led the way down the cellar steps. Getting used to the undulating motion of walking, Jonathan Relevant followed. Crates of grapes, their tops pried off, stood around a large, waist-high vat. Inside, the vat was filled about a third of the way up with grapes, grape pulp, and grape juice. Nancy motioned to the blond girl to sit on the cellar steps while she climbed into the vat.
“You just have to keep jumping up and down.” Nancy suited the action to the words.
Jonathan Relevant watched, long eyelashes fluttering, as she jumped. The grapes beneath her bare feet seemed to provide a certain resiliency. Nancy did indeed fall into a definite and mounting rhythm very quickly.
Her longish red hair flamed out behind her as she leaped. Her bra-less breasts rose and fell noticeably against the loose material of her smock. Juice from the grapes pasted the material over one of them, and the outline of the sharp, pointy nipple was clearly revealed behind the purple-soaked spot.
The loose garment billowed up over Nancy‘s thighs as she bounced. Their creamy white surfaces became slippery with the juice of the grapes. She revolved slowly with each successive jump. A particularly energetic leap revealed her high, exquisitely molded derriere, pink-flushed, purple-spattered, rippling in motion. As Nancy completed the pirouette, the roundness of her belly was revealed in a flash that also bared the soft red-bronze triangle of her womanhood.
“Oh!” She stopped for a moment and leaned over the side of the vat. “It sure takes a lot of energy.” Her breasts were still straining with the effort to suck air into her lungs.
“It looks like fun.”
“It is. Would you like to try it?”
“All right.”
“You’d better take off your clothes,” Nancy advised the shapely blond girl in a voice that was consciously without inflection. “That juice really splatters and the stains don’t come out.”
“All right.” Jonathan Relevant stripped and climbed into the vat with Nancy.
“Start out slowly,” Nancy advised. “That’s it. Up . . . and down . . . up . . . and down . . .” They both moved in time to the words. “Up . . . and down . . . whoops!”
The vat was small and they collided. Nancy grabbed onto the blonde for support. Her arms locked around Jonathan Relevant’s neck, and the length of their soft bodies pressed together. Their breasts and thighs burned hotly at the contact. “Perhaps we’d better hold on to each other and jump together,” Nancy murmured.
“All right.”
“Up...and down...up...and down...”
Aha! What is Jonathan Relevant? The answer at last! “. . . up . . . and down . . .” Jonathan Relevant is a yo-yo! In more ways than one! But it wasn’t self-knowledge, only a slight touch of vertigo.
“Up...and down...up...and down...”
Clinging together, they rose and fell together with the rhythm. Nancy’s dress slid up to her waist, but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were closed. Her juice-slicked thighs moved like well-oiled pistons against the soft, female thighs of Jonathan Relevant. The nipples of her breasts hardened against the new-grown breasts of Jonathan Relevant.
And Jonathan Relevant wasn’t doubting or questioning now. The new role had taken over completely. Thought had given way to sensation-—to the feeling of Nancy’s hands on the plump female bottom, Nancy’s fingers digging into the quivering pink flesh, Nancy’s purple-soaked nipple finding its way to the girl-lips of Jonathan Relevant, Nancy’s moan as she clutched at the back of the girl-neck and strained to feel the laving of the girl-tongue through the material of the smock. “Up . . . and down . . .” Nancy grasped the girl-hips with her knees so that the two burning, quivering female cores made tantalizing contact.
Up . . . and up . . . and up again . . . and—finally-- down!
They fell together to the mattress of grapes and remained there. A few seconds later the juice-spattered smock Nancy had been wearing was tossed over the side. Their bodies locked, purple with juice, slippery with pulp, abandoned in lust. They thrashed about ecstatically, crushing the grapes, white limbs blurred in the purple steam rising over their frenetic movements. . . .
“Now this way!” Nancy panted.
Jonathan Relevant’s girl-body rippled spasmodically as Nancy’s mouth found its nether lips. The favor returned, they both sucked the juice of the grapes, each from the other. The girl-nipples of Jonathan Relevant, almost as deeply colored in their tautness as the grapes themselves, tingled with this new and mounting thrill. Full hips, succulently plump, writhed, flaring out from the narrow waist, and strained against the weight of the redhead pinning them down. Long legs, slippery and splotched with grape juice, formed a V, stretching straight up in the air now, angles wide apart, creamy thighs rippling, oscillating, clutching. Nancy’s tongue tickling the aroused clitoris was driving Jonathan Relevant wild, and at the same time there was the urge to devour the pulsating maw of Nancy’s femininity. The girls erupted a second time, so violently that their bodies turned, locked scissor-fashion, and ground against each other. Then Nancy moved over Jonathan Relevant, her small, glistening breasts hanging over the blond girl’s face as she moved up and down and mindlessly repeated the word. “Again! . . . Again! . . . Again!”