Ruth gasped an involuntary "No!" when she recogized the small volume I handed to Denise, and the smaller woman glanced up at her. "Start at the bookmark," I suggested. I had marked the beginning of Ruth's writings about Denise with a slip of paper. Denise began reading, stopping at the end of the first page to stare at Ruth for a moment. Ruth stood there, deeply embarrassed, biting her lip and shifting her weight uncomfortably. Her face was flushed and tense. Denise read for 20 minutes. As she turned the revealing pages, her breathing began to deepen and a blush crept over her face and neck. Her free hand roamed restlessly from her face, to her neck, to her lap. Finally she finished and slowly closed the book. She darted a look at Ruth, standing uncomfortably, then looked at me for a moment. Denise got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen where she paused for a moment at the sink, then poured and drank a glass of water. Turning she motioned me to join her. "What does this mean?" Denise asked in a low voice. "She wants you," I said in a low voice. "She desperately wants to do things for you that she could never suggest. She's very anxious to satisfy you." "Is it a 'slave' thing, like with you?" Denise said wonderingly. "Not really. For some reason she had strong inhibitions against sex with me, but no strong inhibitions against making love with you. She had to give me complete control before she could let herself have sex with me. With you somehow, the barrier isn't her inhibitions, it's your consent." "But I'm not GAY!" Denise protested. "Neither is Ruth." Denise stared up at me, baffled. "This is crazy!" "Do you want us to leave?" Denise gestured "no" impatiently, then was silent for a long time, staring at Ruth standing motionless in the living room, her back to us in the kitchen. I waited patiently. Then, surprisingly, "What's she wearing under that coat?" "Nothing," a long pause, "... would you like to see?" There was an even longer pause. "Yes," she whispered. Denise followed me back into the living room and we sat on the couch. "Ruth, take off your coat," I commanded gently. For several long seconds I wondered if she would obey, or if she would just walk out. Then, staring ahead, she tugged her belt quickly open. In a few seconds, the coat dropped to the floor. Ruth stood erect, her full, rounded breasts swayed slightly as her arms fell back to her sides. She looked buxom and earthy standing there, with her broad shoulders and wide hips. Her nipples were dark and half-erect, the hair thick, dark and tangled in her V. Denise sat bolt upright at the opposite end of the couch, staring. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" I said, but she made no response. "Would you like to touch her?" Denise turned to me, wide-eyed, her mouth slightly open. "She WANTS you to touch her, Denise." I stood and, taking Denise's hand, helped her to her feet and led her to Ruth. She stood looking down at Ruth's breasts. "Ruth," I said. "Would you like Denise to touch your breasts?" "Yes," low and hoarse. "Help her, Ruth." Ruth took Denise's left hand and placed it on her right breast. She took her hand away and Denise's small, white hand stayed on her breast. I could see her fingers trembling. After a few moments, Denise hesitantly squeezed Ruth's tit, briefly rubbed her forefinger over the nipple, then put her hand under and lifted the large globe. "Heavy," Denise said, her voice faint and dreamy, but her eyes were closely focused on Ruth's chest. Denise's right hand then moved up and cupped Ruth's other breast, squeezing, stroking. She stepped closer, lifting Ruth's left breast, leaning down to examine the upturned nipple. Without warning, Denise bent and took Ruth's nipple in her mouth and began suckling. Ruth's eyes closed and her mouth fell open, letting out a deep sigh. But a few seconds later her eyes flew open again and she was staring wide-eyed down at Denise's glossy black hair. "OH! OH!" Ruth said in a surprised whisper. "Sweetheart!"