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It was all the little things that weighed on Jodi the most. Life was made up of little things after all, thousands of bits and pieces that added up into the larger picture. A glass mosaic of everything Jodi had ever done or felt, but whenever she thought of Caroline, she was certain that there was a jagged hole punctured in the glass. Never to be filled, simply covered up and ignored like a shattered window letting the bitter cold inside again and again.
It didn't stop Jodi from indulging in thoughts of her friend, however. Those were her favorite little things, and the ones that burdened her most: lingering touches on her hand or her shoulder that would set her body ablaze, the dry crackle of her laugh, the spark in her eyes and devilish smile as she shared a particularly juicy piece of gossip. Full, pink lips kissing the edge of her teacup. The flash of neck and collarbone that peeked from beneath her sweater, adorned with a string of pearls that Jodi wished she could take the place of. Shame filled the cracks in the glass until it appeared whole again as Jodi would fervently pleasure herself at night in her empty marital bed.
Her thoughts should have been on her husband fighting bravely across the Gem Sea, condemning herself again and again with every subdued cry of pleasure for someone else— or better yet, her thoughts should have been on being a mother, virtuous and above earthly desires, existing only to serve her children and her husband. But when her hand slipped into her panties and found her folds already slick, soft fingertips rubbing circles into the throbbing nub at the apex of it, all she could think of was her.
Caroline. Just the thought of her name made Jodi shiver, whispering it in shameful, hurried prayers as she got herself off.
It was constant, too. Not only at night, but whenever Jodi had a moment alone to herself, her thoughts drifted to her friend. Vibrant green hair dyed to match her green eyes, a warm smile with creases around the edges after a lifetime full of joy, love, and laughter. Her figure full and plump as was to be expected of a mother her age, but still taking the shape of a perfectly proportioned hourglass.
Jodi would indulge in a glass of wine or two after cleaning up the kitchen, her thoughts wandering in the empty house as she ground herself against the edge of the dining chair or even the table. The table her family ate meals on.
More things to clean and scrub, never clean enough from the sins of her desires. The hole in the mosaic grew larger after each time, a gaping maw threatening to swallow her in shadow. Patching it up as best as she could, she would resign herself to the shower in some hope to cleanse herself— only to find herself moaning her best friend's name beneath the shroud of hot water, as if Yoba or her family or her own conscience wouldn’t hear her there.
The shower head unraveled her with more ease than her fingers did, imagining Caroline on her knees lavishing attention on her clit. Those bright green eyes peeking up at her, hair undone and sticking to her body— her neck, her arms, the tops of her breasts which would no doubt hang low as her own did, perfectly shaped into teardrops as they rested against her thighs. It mattered little whether the water was hot or cold, nothing could tear Jodi away from her shameful fantasies.
She would move on to washing her family's laundry after, continuing her day and her routine, only to find herself on top of the washing machine as it rumbled rhythmically, rocking her fingers into herself as the vibrations buzzed through her. Jodi didn’t dare buy herself a vibrator, that would be conceding too much to her debauchery, but she would still take full advantage of the vibrations of every load of laundry.
The moments that followed every orgasm filled her with sticky shame and regret: that was her best friend, and they were both married. Both mothers. Jodi knew better, and yet she couldn’t help herself.
Each time they were together, she felt like a schoolgirl with a crush. Giggling at the stupidest of remarks, her voice light and breathy, head dipped down and cheeks flushed. Even when she would come to the altar to pray, it was with the hope that she would see her, could breathe the same air as her, and be invigorated with love and lust again for another day full of shameful indulgence.
Perhaps she was more like a schoolboy, though. Full of lust and insatiable hunger, always staring, always imagining, always pleasuring herself to the thought of her. It was wrong, and Jodi knew just how disgusting it felt to be ogled and lusted after, but she couldn’t stop herself. The hole in the glass mosaic was like an open window on a highrise, and Jodi found herself always perched on the ledge, one hand still on the colorful pane of glass as if it might tether her to safety.
Caroline didn't exactly make it easy— she'd sometimes talk about her lackluster marriage, the toys she'd use on herself as replacement for her husband. He was here, physically, unlike Jodi's, but he was absent in all the ways that mattered.
“Not like you,” Caroline clarified softly, placing a hand atop Jodi's own. “I know I can always count on you.”
Moments like these stole the breath from her lungs— the hole in the mosaic felt more like a broken window on a plane now, sucking all oxygen and threatening to pull Jodi into the atmosphere and end her misery at last.
If it were Caroline, she'd let her. She did let her.
When their lips met, it felt like nothing else. Twenty-five years of marriage couldn't compare to it, it was like Jodi had been kissed for the first time. Soft lips against her own, laced with the pleasant taste of green tea and scones— soft breasts pressed into her own, heavy yet supple, even beneath her bra and sweater.
No one else ever entered the sun room and they both knew it, giving in to one another.
“I think about you all the time, you know,” Caroline panted against her lips. “I’m not convinced this isn’t a dream.”
“Me too,” Jodi admitted, and the words felt like a weight off her chest.
Every fantasy and dirty, indulgent thought Jodi had had over the years paled in comparison to what it truly felt like for Caroline to claim her. They kissed for what felt like hours, their tops and bras coming off to allow their hands and chests to touch. The sensation of taking off her bra was liberating enough on its own at the end of a long day, but having Caroline remove it, and feeling her soft hands cupping the weight of them in the garment’s place? It was divine. Those hands were made to hold her.
Skillful fingers pressed divots into her breasts, reshaping her like a sculptor shaping clay. The pads of her thumbs rubbed dizzying circles into her hardened nipples, sending shivers all through Jodi's body, settling in the pit of her stomach and drawing all the blood in her body to her plump clit and labia.
Caroline sank to her knees, urging Jodi's pants down. She shimmied out of them easily, her thick, bare thighs and dripping wet cunt bared for her— only for her. As if she had been made for her. It should have perhaps been embarrassing that she was this thoroughly soaked after only making out and a little bit of groping, but the look of satisfaction on Caroline's face as her fingers tentatively parted her— eyes flicking up to her with nothing but love and desire— felt like Jodi was being seen for the first time in her life.
Her fingers entered her, while the fingers of her other hand spread her apart with a slick sound. Caroline dove into her heat eagerly, flat tongue pressed into her throbbing, needy clit as her bright green eyes flicked up once again for approval.
Jodi was sure she'd come right then and there— just as sure as she was that the face of Yoba themselves was peering up at her from between her legs.
Her own hands grasped at anything she could think of: the couch beneath her, her friend's hair, pulling it loose from its twin tails, clutching at her own jaw as she moaned and screamed into her palm.
Just like in her daily rituals, Caroline made her come countless times, her insides contracting in firm pulses around Caroline’s soft fingers with every orgasm she wrenched from her. Still, she lingered inside, tongue eagerly lapping at her clit and tracing the shape of her every fold as if it were all that was keeping her alive. Perhaps it was, in the end. Jodi certainly felt like she might die if this ever were to end.
Usually those repeated orgasms came by her own sinful hand, and carried the guilt and shame of masturbating to her best friend. Now though? With Caroline on her knees between her thick thighs, devoted to unraveling Jodi piece by piece?
Now, Jodi was sure that none of this would feel unclean ever again— if anything, Jodi felt the light of God warming her skin and her face through the heat of the sun room and her friend's body against hers. Jodi felt like the vessel herself. A mosaic of reflected light kissing her face, breasts, and the crown of Caroline’s head as she trailed kisses of her own up Jodi’s plump belly.
Jodi would return the favor too: back to kissing again, heavy breasts slotted against each other like jigsaw pieces as Jodi rubbed urgent circles into her friend's clit. She wasn't as knowledgeable on these things— didn't have toys or erotic books to guide her, only the raw desire and adoration for Caroline. It was enough, it would seem, her fingers serving to unravel her friend just the same as she had done to her moments ago.
The sweet sounds that buzzed between their lips as Caroline came were like music to her— no longer the deafening wind howling through a hole in the glass, but a beautiful choir gracing her ears. She hadn't known it until now, but she was certain that all her careful consideration of keeping her hands soft and delicate had been for this: for her fingers to slip between Caroline's folds, to massage her clit again and again, to enter her and be squeezed and embraced by the overwhelming heat inside her.
Being with her made Jodi feel whole, confirmed on the lips of her new lover when they at last came to rest and Caroline muttered a heady, adoring, “I love you.”