Crisis of Faith

I am grateful to NewOldGuy77 for his editing.

(Evelyn)

“Have you heard about that new haunted house?” Faith asked.

I rolled my eyes, “you’ll have to be more specific than that. There’s a bunch of new ones, every year.”

“Not like this one. It’s X-rated!” Faith exclaimed loudly.

“Not so loud!” I admonished as several of the other women in our church knitting group glared at us.

Faith blushed furiously.

I laughed, “what’s supposed to be scary about naked people?” I asked quietly.

Faith frowned and whispered, “I think they still wear some kind of costumes, and they do the normal scary things…”

I shrugged, “Sounds normal then I guess.”

“It’s going to be in the warehouse right down the block from the church! Daddy’s going to stop it though, he told me.”

I eyed Faith. She really was the perfect Catholic. She was also the only grown woman I knew who still called her father ‘Daddy’.

“How about a bet?” I asked, slyly.

“Gambling is a sin,” hissed Faith primly.

“Well, I don’t think your father is going to be able to shut down a haunted house.”

“He will! Daddy can do anything!”

“If that’s true, then it’s not gambling, it’s a sure thing.”

Faith pursed her lips.

“Come on, if you don’t take the bet, it’s like saying that you don’t believe your father can do it. I mean, that’s the only way it’s gambling, right? If you aren’t sure?”

I just loved pushing her buttons; she was so cute when she was angry. Her jet-black eyes would get all squinty and her little pert nose would crinkle up and her ears would twitch behind the wisps of black hair that always escaped her tight bun. And if she was irritated enough, she would let go of some of her tightly held principles and be just a little wild.

“I suppose that’s true,” Faith said finally, just a hint of light reflected from her squinted eyes. “And when I win, I want you to join the choir.” She nodded firmly.

I let out a breath. Faith had been trying to get me to sing with the choir for months, ever since she overheard me sing Adele’s ‘Rolling in the Deep.’ The problem was I had terrible stage fright.

“You know I can’t do that.” I said.

Faith smiled, “then I guess there’s no bet.”

“Come on, ask for something else?”

“No way, it’s the choir or nothing.”

“Fine.” I said.

“Really?” Faith looked shocked and excited.

“Really. But if I win, you have to go the haunted house with me.”

Faith gasped and instinctively shook her head. “Come on, ask for something else?”

“It’s the haunted house or nothing,” I told her resolutely.

Faith looked at the hat she was knitting critically as she mulled over my offer. I looked down at the scarf I was working on. It was the ugliest piece of crap that had ever been knitted. Faith’s hat, on the other hand, was impeccable with perfect small stitches and a colorful pattern too. She knitted tons of hats for cancer patients and was pretty great at it. She really was too perfect. It was my job to liven up her life with silly bets and pornographic haunted houses.

“Alright,” Faith said finally, “it’s a bet.”

She beamed at me, and my clit tingled the way it always did when Faith was happy with me. That was something I tried not to think about. Faith would never explore that feeling with me, even if she felt the same. But that tingle was the reason I went to her church and joined her knitting group. Unrequited love was a bitch, but it was all I had.

At night when I was dreaming, I liked to imagine that someday, somehow, I’d find a way to open her up to the idea that being gay wasn’t sinful. But in the daylight, I knew that would never happen. And even then, so what? She’d never indicated that she liked me as anything more than a friend, no matter how much I tingled when she smiled.

Still, my little eternal flame of hope flickered optimistically as I imagined taking Faith to an X-rated haunted house. That was exactly the kind of thing a person needed to really relax some inhibitions.

(Faith)

The idea of a sex-themed haunted house made me more excited than I wanted to admit. It embarrassed me that I wanted Evelyn to win our bet. I wanted to go see the debauchery in person, and I wanted a way to do it where I didn’t have to admit that I wanted to go.

Evelyn always found a way to give me an excuse to do the things I knew were wrong. Like how she’d argued that I had to take her bet or else I wasn’t properly honoring Daddy. She was so clever like that. I wondered if she knew how much I liked that about her.

But the wonderful thing about this bet was that if I won, she would sing. The first time I had heard Evelyn sing just a few months ago, I nearly wept at the beauty of her voice. And when I saw her, the passion in her face as she sang of love… Shamefully, I had imagined it was me she sang to.

I could never decide, since then, if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she never sang when she knew someone was listening. On the good side, it made it easier to pretend she was just a friend. The way her singing affected me, I am not sure I could hide my adoration. On the bad side, I didn’t get to hear her sing unless it was by accident. I spent more time than she knew hiding out of her sight, listening to her glorious voice.

Was it a good idea to push her into joining the choir? Was I playing with fire?

“Alright ladies, that’s enough knitting for today. See you next week!”

Evelyn and I packed up our projects. I glanced at Evelyn’s scarf and couldn’t quite stifle a laugh. She frowned at me.

Even unhappy, she was beautiful with her curly brown hair that spread out in uncontrolled frizz from her round face. Her light brown eyes always seemed to hold a gleam of amusement at the world and her full lips were far more likely to be quirked up in a wry grin, than pursed down as they were now.

“What? Don’t you like my work?”

“It’s beautiful, Evelyn, really.” I said.

“Well, I’m glad you think so, because when it’s done, I’m giving it to you! And I expect you to wear it.”

My heart fluttered wildly as I imagined wearing her scarf that she’d made with her own hands. It would be like her hands caressing me, through her work. With an effort, I pushed away that improper thought.

“Of course!” I agreed, hoping that none of my sinful thoughts showed in my face.

What would Evelyn think, if she knew I was so degraded. She wouldn’t be my friend anymore, that was for sure. And if there was anything I needed in this world, it was Evelyn, if only as a friend.

When I got back to my apartment, I made a phone call to the only other person who mattered to me.

“Daddy? How did your meeting with the town council go today?”

“Perfectly well, of course.” Daddy answered in his smooth deep voice. “They’ll be setting up their house of sin in Mercerville, instead.” Daddy continued smugly.

Disappointment flooded me. Then excitement. And finally, pride.

Of course, Daddy got his way, he always did. And now I’d get to hear Evelyn sing, every week! But I wouldn’t be able to see the terrible X-rated haunted house with Evelyn. That was probably for the best, I reminded myself. What if I got excited and did something regrettable? No, it was better this way.

(Evelyn)

Should I give up?

Or should I just keep chasin’ pavements

Even if it leads nowhere?

The Adele song burst out of my phone’s tiny speaker, startling me from my daydream. I couldn’t help but grin as I picked up the phone. Faith would never know I chose a song about unrequited love for her ringtone. Even if she heard the chorus, she’d just think I liked Adele. Sometimes it amazed me how naïve she was. She worked hard at maintaining that naivete though.

Shaking my head I answered the phone, “Hey, Faith.”

“Evelyn! Are you busy?”

“Nope,” I said, I was just lying in bed, as a matter of fact.

“Then get down to the church for choir practice!”

My heart sank.

“I lost the bet?” I asked.

“No haunted house in St. Johns!”

I wanted to argue, to weasel my way out of the deal. But, if there was one thing I believed in, it was keeping my word. Especially to Faith.

“Be there in fifteen.” I said and hung up.

I took two minutes to feel sorry for myself, then I slipped on jeans and a sweater and walked to the church that sat smack dab in the middle of the town center. I could even see the spires from my bedroom window, it towered over everything.

The trees that lined the street were still full and green this early in Fall. Vibrant leaves fluttered intermittently in the gentle wind. I shivered and stuck my hands in my pockets to keep them a little warm on this unseasonably cool day. I breathed in the autumn air deeply, trying to calm my anxiety.

I walked slowly, enjoying the cool breeze as I worked to settle my nerves for what I was about to do. If I had a hierarchy of things I didn’t want to do, telling Faith how I felt was at the top. The very next item after that was singing in front of people. And, the third thing was, there was no third thing.

Only two things I didn’t want to do, and one of them I was going to do today. And just to please a woman who I could never tell how I felt about her. I was an idiot.

I stood at the church door, my hand gripping the handle, and stared at it for five full minutes before Faith opened it for me.

“Evelyn, there you are!” She bounced as she greeted me, her boobs jiggling softly under her fuzzy sweater.

“Hi.” I said nervously, jerking my eyes up to her smiling face.

Like pulling my foot out of quicksand, I painfully lifted it up and moved it in through the threshold of the door. There, half of me was in the church. It was just as difficult to get my other leg in. Fully inside the church, I sighed.

Faith took hold of my arm and tugged me. My whole body came alive at her touch. The next thing I knew, I was on the stage, being enthusiastically introduced to the choir members.

(Faith)

I nearly let Evelyn off the hook when I saw her standing, frozen faced and rigid, outside the church door. But she was just such a good singer! A voice like that should be shared.

Telling myself it wasn’t just for me, I pulled open the door and dragged Evelyn to the choir.

I had warned them that she had stage fright, so the director had put Evelyn in the back of the group and hadn’t made her sing alone at all as he usually did to judge each of our range and best placement. I stood next to her. She was quiet for twenty minutes, but she didn’t bolt. When she finally started to sing, it was barely a whisper.

By the end of the hour-long practice session, I could just hear her when I stood right next to her. At this rate, I figured it would only take a month before I could actually hear her, and maybe two months after that before she was loud enough to be heard by the audience. Maybe in a year she’d even do a solo!

It would be worth the wait.

“That was horrible,” Evelyn said as we walked out of the church.

“You were great!” I encouraged her.

“I was not, and you know it.”

“You showed up, you didn’t run, and you didn’t faint,” I pointed out. “It was a great first day!”

“I… You are such a good friend.” Evelyn said.

The comment was unexpectedly painful. Was I a good friend? Didn’t Evelyn deserve a friend who didn’t secretly lust for more?

Not for the first time, guilt washed through me, deep and powerful. Here was something to add to my confession tomorrow. I made note of it as I mentally recited a quick prayer asking forgiveness for my impure thoughts.

Why couldn’t I like one of the nice boys that Daddy kept introducing me to? Why did none of them make my heart feel full like Evelyn did? Why had God decided to burden me with this sinful desire?

And could I really be a good friend if I wanted more? Pain burned in my chest. As always, I pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to think about things that were impossible.

“What are you going to dress up as for Halloween?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I’m going to be a sexy nun. That’s appropriate, right?”

I choked on a laugh at the unexpected answer. As always, Evelyn’s quirky humor chased my dark thoughts and mood away.

“No really, I want to know. Maybe we can match our outfits?” I insisted.

“Maybe I’ll go as a demon, and you can be an angel?” Evelyn suggested, “or how about I’m Eve and you’re an apple? Or I’ll be Maleficent and you can be Briar Rose, or…”

“Hey, why are you the evil one in all these pairs?” I interrupted.

“I think what you mean is why are you the good one. And that’s because you are the good one.” Evelyn winked at me.

“I’m not always good,” I protested weakly.

“Name one time you broke the rules.” Evelyn dared me.

“I…” I considered it. “I…”

I wanted to break the rules. But no, I never actually did any of the things I imagined doing.

“You can’t! Admit it, you’re the good one.”

“Then all the more reason for me to dress evil for Halloween, right? Isn’t that what it’s all about, pretending to be something different?” I argued, wanting Evelyn to be the one to suggest a naughty outfit for me.

“Alright, then what do you want to be?” Evelyn asked me.

Disappointed that the ruse hadn’t worked, I thought about it. Suddenly the perfect idea popped into my head. A strong woman who, while she lost her way, turned out to be a heroine in the end. And she was hot. No one could fault me for dressing as a superhero, right?

“I could be Harley Quinn?” I suggested.

Evelyn snorted, “and I’ll be Poison Ivy.”

I considered it. I wasn’t sure why all of Evelyn’s suggestions were villainous. Before I could dwell on that thought, the image of Evelyn wrapped in vines and not much else popped into my head.

“Oh, you’d make a great Poison Ivy,” I said, trying to keep my tone even and light.

(Evelyn)

Clearly Faith had no idea that Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn became lovers. I smiled to myself. I would enjoy knowing the hidden meaning in our costumes.

“Deal, I’ll be Poison Ivy, and you’ll be Harley Quinn.”

Faith looked thoughtful for a moment; her eyes unfocused as she saw something in her mind. I knew just what she was doing, planning out everything she’d need to make her outfit. She wouldn’t just buy a costume, like a rational person who wanted to dress up as a popular character. No, Faith always made her own.

“We can go shopping at the thrift store for supplies next weekend,” she finally said, coming out of her vision.

“Oh no,” I said. “I’m going to buy an outfit. You’ve seen my crafting skills.” I reminded her.

“Oh,” Faith sounded disappointed.

I didn’t know why she would be. She’d seen me wear store-bought costumes since forever. Why should anything be different this year?

“I could make your costume, if you want?” Faith offered.

Her voice was quiet and nervous, the way she sounded whenever she was afraid she was doing something wrong. But what could be wrong about making a costume for me? Sometimes I wish I could look inside her head; I was sure it was full of all sorts of interesting secrets she thought were too weird to admit to.

I’d managed to tease a few of those secrets out of her, over the years. But I knew there was probably a motherload in there.

“If that’s what you want to spend your free time on, I’d love to wear anything you make.” I said.

Faith sighed with relief, “Great! Then after church on Sunday we’ll go shopping.”

I stifled a groan as I remembered that I would be standing with the choir during church. Going to services was a lot more fun when I got to hide in a pew in the back and just watch Faith sing. I also got to avoid the entire communion part of the service that way.

Faith knew I wasn’t Catholic, and so did Father John, of course. He even showed me how to put my hand over my heart to pass on taking the wine and wafer and just get the blessing when I went through with the communion line. It still made me feel uncomfortable though.

Father John was one of the more progressive Catholic priests, as far as I could tell. He didn’t mind that an agnostic came to his service every week and was now joining his choir. He didn’t pressure me to convert or anything, and neither did Faith, for which I was grateful. Both of them seemed to be happy enough just seeing me there, at the church services and in the groups where I joined Faith.

“I’m scared,” I admitted to Faith, hating the way my voice broke on the word.

Anyone else, and I’d never admit it. But with Faith? There was only one secret I kept from her.

Faith stopped on the sidewalk and took my hand in hers. The heat of her touch sent shock waves up my arm and a quiver in my pussy. I took a deep breath to steady myself. It was just a hand! It meant nothing.

“I know, Evelyn. I’m so proud of you though! I’ll stand right next to you in the back. I can even hold your hand if it helps.”

“Yes, it helps.”

I wasn’t sure if holding Faith’s hand would help me feel less nervous. But I did know it would certainly distract me really well. How could I worry about singing when I would be worried about sweaty palms instead? How could anxiety take me, when the most beautiful woman in the world was holding my hand?

It may not have been X-rated, but a held hand was enough for me.

(Faith)

Long after I stopped holding Evelyn’s hand, I could still feel the heat of her. I couldn’t understand it, what was happening to me?

I’d held hands with Evelyn before. We’d known each other since we were little, we used to have tea parties and play dress up. When had my feelings changed? When was the last time I’d touched her? I tried to remember.

I couldn’t recall. Obviously, it hadn’t made me feel this, this unease. We’d grown into womanhood together and had even been roommates for a bit in college. If I tried to pinpoint when things had changed, it all came down to last Halloween.

Evelyn had shown up to help pass out candy at the church dressed as a pirate. She’d bought the costume online, and it was clearly meant to be sexy. Evelyn had tried to fix it a bit, safety pinning the blouse closed where it lacked buttons and wearing black tights under the strategically ripped pants. But halfway through the night the safety pins had popped, and Evelyn’s cleavage had burst into view.

I’d never seen her breasts like that. They were large and perfectly rounded. To my embarrassment, I’d stared. When I’d looked up into Evelyn’s face, an apology on the tip of my lips, she’d had the oddest expression on her face. For some reason, it had set fire to my lady parts like nothing had ever done before.

I remembered that my cheeks had warmed, and we stared at each other for what seemed like forever but was probably only twenty seconds. Then, Evelyn had closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she laughed and said that I looked like I’d never seen boobs before. And just like that, the spell had been broken. I’d laughed and kept my eyes off her the rest of the night.

But, after that, I couldn’t ever seem to get back to the way I saw Evelyn before. As my friend, my best friend. It had gotten even worse when I’d heard her singing that Adele song. And now, now I couldn’t even hold my friend’s hand without thinking lustful thoughts.

This couldn’t go on.

That Saturday, I went to the evening service at church. I needed to get my secrets off my chest before I held Evelyn’s hand during the Sunday morning service. I needed to confess.

After the service, I waited until the crowd filtered out, then slipped into the confessional. After a little wait I heard Father John take his place, the sound of his steps and his breath were as familiar to me as my own.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession. These are my sins,” I spoke the traditional words, crossing myself reflexively.

“I have taken the Lord’s name in vain three times,” I began listing my sins. “I played games on my phone when I should have been working. I have had impure thoughts. I… I have been angry at God. I have had homosexual urges!” I hissed out the last words, pushing them out of my mouth through a blur of guilty tears.

My heart ached as my sinful nature. “I am sorry for these and all my sins.” I finished quickly as sweat broke out from my brow and palms.

Father John was quiet for a moment, “Daughter, God made you like this. God loves you like this. The Pope himself has said we must not judge gays, as Christ does not judge. Do not judge yourself harshly for what you cannot control.

“As to your other sins, for taking the Lord’s name in vain, say the rosary three times. For stealing time from your employer, show up fifteen minutes early. For your impure thoughts, do chartable work to keep your hands busy and prevent impure action. And for your anger, speak the prayer of serenity.”

Tears leaked from my eyes as I bowed my head, thankful for the priest’s kind words. I had heard the softening of the Pope on gays, of course, but he was in Rome and Father John was here. I wish I’d had the courage to confess it before.

Shakily, I spoke the act of contrition, “Oh my God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong And failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In His name, my God, have mercy. Amen.”

“Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.” Father John replied, formally.

“For His mercy endures forever.”

“The Lord has freed you from your sins. Go in peace.”

“Thanks be to God.”

I burst from the confessional as soon as the tradition ended. Although I was relieved that the release of confession, I was still full of nerves. I knew Father John recognized my voice, but I didn’t want to see his face just now. I wouldn’t know what to do if he turned eyes on me that were sad or judging, despite his kind words.

So, instead, I bolted down the hall and out of sight.

(Evelyn)

Sunday morning, I alternated between eagerness to get ready and go see Faith and terror at standing with the choir and singing. As a consequence, I laid in bed for an extra twenty minutes after my alarm went off, then leapt out of bed suddenly and rushed to shower. After showering, I sat in my towel and stared at the wall for another half-hour, then got dressed in two minutes flat.

I power-walked the first several blocks to the church, then abruptly stopped as soon as I was within sight of the door.

“Evelyn!” Faith’s high-pitched and cheerful voice broke through my daze.

“Faith,” I gasped and latched on to her as if she was a life preserver.

“Oh, Evelyn,” Faith sounded anguished as she returned my desperate hug, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this.”

I knew that. I knew I could bail any time and Faith would forgive me. She never judged, being one of those rare Christians who truly tried to embody the teachings of Christ. And that was why I had to do it. For some reason, Faith wanted me to sing. It was important enough to her to make a bet for it. I had no idea why it meant so much to her, but I couldn’t let her down.

I took a deep breath and gathered my nerves, “No, I can do this.”

I let go of Faith’s torso and took her hand instead. It said a lot about my anxiety level that I’d not once thought about the feel of her breasts against mine when I hugged her. Even now, the heat radiating from her hand only barely dulled the static in my ears.

I only let go of Faith’s hand long enough to put on the choir robe, then we walked onto the stage where the singers always stood. My vision blurred and a pale halo appeared in my left eye. I hadn’t felt anxiety like this since my last mandatory speech class in high school.

Faith squeezed my hand and I remembered to breathe.

And then, the choir director signaled the start of the opening hymn. I closed my eyes and sang. I knew this song by heart, I sang it quietly every week in the audience. Around me, the voices of the choir drowned out my voice. Taking courage from Faith, I sang louder, letting the power of my voice carry the song further than I’d ever dared in church before.

When the song ended, I opened my eyes. No one was looking at me in horror, or at all. I felt a bit of my anxiety release, feeling hidden in the back of the choir. I could do this.

An hour later, I was relaxed enough to sing the final hymn with a tiny bit of confidence and open eyes. I did love to sing. I let the joy of singing and the warmth of Faith’s hand push away the anxiety.

By the time the last hymn faded away, the church was nearly clear of people. I had done it! I had stood in front of a crowd and sung.

I felt giddy with joy as Faith and I headed out to go thrift shopping. I drove as usual. Faith hated driving, saying she was bad at it. She had been pulled over nearly a dozen times for various mistakes. Yet, none of the cops had yet managed to give her a ticket; she looked too innocent. I, on the other hand, had been pulled over twice, and got a ticket both times. I didn’t begrudge her though, and I didn’t mind driving.

We made our way to the nearest bigger town, Mercerville. As we turned down the street with the thrift store, I caught sight of a giant sign hanging outside a massive store which had once been a Sears.

“House of Erotic Horrors – Coming Soon!” The banner proclaimed.

I glanced at Faith, “Care to explain that?”

I was in too good a mood to be annoyed, but hadn’t she told me her father had got the X-rated haunted house shut down? I thought back to her exact words, no haunted house in St. John’s. I sighed, Faith was so pedantic sometimes and I’d neglected to pursue that detail.

“Daddy got it moved here,” Faith said blithely.

“But our bet,” I said with a grin, “was that he’d get it closed.”

“No, no…” Faith frowned, thinking.

“Yes, yes!” I crowed. “You know what that means?”

“No?”

“You and I are going to see the erotic horrors!”

(Faith)

A thrill ran through me at Evelyn’s pronouncement. It was a thrill of excitement. I wanted to go.

“Well, I don’t know,” I said, afraid of sounding too eager.

“Oh yeah, this is happening. I sang in front of the church. If I can do that, you can go to that haunted house with me.”

“You were very brave,” I admitted, then gave up my faux reluctance. “Alright, I guess I’ll go.”

Evelyn whooped happily, and I laughed. I felt better about making her sing, seeing how confident she looked at the end of the service. My heart had nearly broken when I’d found her outside the church that morning, looking terrified.

But when she’d taken my hand and her expression turned grim as she said she would do it, a wave of love had flooded me. I’d always felt that love for Evelyn, it was the lust that was new. The lust had made an appearance near the end of service when Evelyn started singing nearly as loud and powerfully as she sang when alone.

I’d been terribly aware of our hands joining us. And worse, I’d saw Father John glance at our held hands during the service. He hadn’t made any expression, not a frown nor a smile, but I felt guilt wash through me. It hadn’t lasted long though. It was hard to feel guilt when I saw Evelyn gain confidence and sing freely.

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

I recited Thessalonians 5:11 to myself to push away the feelings of guilt, confusion, and lust. No matter what else was true, I was helping Evelyn gain confidence, and that was objectively good.

At the thrift store I managed to find everything I needed to make both our costumes. Of course, I didn’t find a green jumpsuit like I was envisioning for Evelyn, since my original fantasy of her in just vines was clearly too immodest. But I did find some green sheets that would give me enough fabric to make her jumpsuit. Fabric was so much cheaper when you bought it second hand! I also grabbed up a big fake tree and a skein of green yarn that I could use to make vines. I snagged a couple door wreaths that had some neat flowers on them too.

For my costume, I found some blue and red pants that could be cut and combined to make shorts, and simple black leggings to wear underneath. I picked up a red satin bowling jacket and a white shirt with some red and blue striping that I thought looked close enough to the original to work. I also found some gloves which I could cut the fingers off of and I got a black velvet scarf that I could make a choker and cuffs from.

I was practically bouncing with excitement as we left the store. Evelyn insisted on paying, because I was doing the work, and I didn’t argue. I was just eager to get started. Making my Halloween costume had always been one of my favorite times of year, and this year I was making two.

“This is going to be amazing!” I told Evelyn.

She grinned at me, “How long do you think it will take to make them?”

I considered, “Hmmm… Halloween is in six weeks, but I think I can make our costumes in three or four weeks.”

It wouldn’t actually take that long, but with everything else I was doing, it was sometimes hard to make room for new projects. I had work, and church, and choir, and knitting, and I volunteered at the local nursing home and animal shelter too. And, I had roped Evelyn into doing most of those things with me.

“Perfect,” Evelyn commented.

“Why?”

“Well,” Evelyn pointed at the haunted house sign as we were passing it again, “I want to wear our costumes to the haunted house, and it should be open next week.”

“Oh.” My cheeks heated as I remembered.

(Evelyn)

The nice thing about being a computer programmer was that I could work from anywhere, anytime. So, when Faith called me up on Tuesday at noon to see if I had time for her to come over and check my measurements, I could accommodate her.

While I’d gone to college for computer science, she’d gotten a degree in sociology. She hadn’t been able to find a job in her field in our town yet, though, and she didn’t want to move away. So, she worked at a local department store, and ended up with all sorts of odd working hours, squeezing her volunteering into the open places.

While I joined her for knitting and occasionally at the animal shelter, she hadn’t managed to get me to put in any time at the nursing home yet. Honestly, it exhausted me just hearing about her busy schedule. I had no idea how she had so much energy.

“Hi!” Faith called from the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen!” I yelled back. “Want anything?”

“An iced tea would be great.”

I poured us both a glass and handed one to her. The cool weather of last week had turned and now it was stifling hot again, as normal. Faith was sweating a bit from walking over, but soon the AC and tea did their job cooling her down.

“Too hot!” Faith commented, fanning her face with one hand dramatically. “I wish the weather would be consistent. How am I supposed to know how warm our costumes need to be?”

I shrugged, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Faith rolled her eyes at me and finished her tea, “Come on, let’s do this.”

She dug a rolled measuring tape out of her pocket and waved me over. I’d never been measured for custom clothes before, so I had no idea what to do. I stood in front of Faith and waited for more instructions.

“Arms out.”

I stretched my arms out from my sides. Faith held one end of the tape to my wrist and rolled it out until her other hand was in my armpit. Then she made a note in her phone. I was suddenly very aware that this process was going to involve a lot of close proximity touching.

I couldn’t help the tingle that spread through me and the little pulse of wetness that doused my panties. I bit my lip and avoided looking at Faith as she moved her measuring tape all around my body, her hands lightly touching me. Wrist to armpit, shoulder to shoulder, shoulder to butt, hip to ankle, ankle to crotch. I shuddered, trying valiantly to keep the reaction hidden.

Faith didn’t even touch my pelvis as she measured my inseam, she just hovered her hand in front of me. I kept expecting the touch, but there was none. Good or bad? Good, probably. I didn’t need to tease myself; Faith was all business.

(Faith)

I hovered my hand in front of the Evelyn’s lady parts and mentally subtracted a quarter inch from the measurement due to the angle of the tape as I held it away from her. I had not anticipated that a simple measuring could feel so sensual.

It was the first time I was measuring someone else. I usually just made clothes for myself, or to measurements that were given to me. So, I had nothing to compare this to. Was it different because it was Evelyn, or because it was my first time?

I took a slow breath as I prepared for the last measurement I needed. Evelyn’s bust. First, I wrapped the tape around her stomach, which unexpectedly brought my face close to her boobs. They were hidden under a t-shirt, as normal. But I could still remember the cleavage I’d seen last Halloween.

A thrill of lust shot through me, and I sucked in a breath. I jerked away from Evelyn but forgot that I still had the tape wrapped around her waist. She fell forward as I pulled away and her boobs bumped into my face.

The soft flesh under my cheek, the warmth that radiated, it was like nothing I’d felt before. What had been a small bit of lust blossomed into a fire inside me. I fell backward onto the floor, plopping on my butt.

“Sorry!” Evelyn squeaked as she just managed not to fall on me.

“I’m sorry!” I said, my face burning.

At least my skin was too dark to turn red and make my embarrassment obvious. That was something to be thankful for at least.

“Are you ok?” Evelyn asked as she held out her hand to help me up.

“I’m fine” I took her hand and another pulse of heat shot through me.

Gritting my teeth and ignoring the feeling, I stood up and pretended that absolutely nothing awkward had happened at all. Evelyn was still looking at me with concern.

“I’m alright!” I insisted, smiling a little to show how fine I was.

“Maybe you should sit down for a little bit? Maybe I should have let you relax longer?”

“I’m ok!” I said, but then I remembered what I had to measure next and thought better of it. “Well, maybe I will sit for a bit, thanks.”

Evelyn led me to her couch and sat me down. Then she sat next to me, which made my blood pulse wildly and I started breathing quickly.

Evelyn frowned at me. She reached out and felt my forehead with the back of her hand.

“You feel fine,” she observed, concerned.

“That’s because I am,” I insisted.

Evelyn’s frown deepened. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would ease the tension in the room. I wasn’t used to keeping secrets from Evelyn. I didn’t do secrets!

I didn’t even understand why I was feeling this way so often these days. Was it Halloween coming again, reminding me of that first lust I’d felt last year? Felt and suppressed so well? Was it Evelyn singing in the choir? Why was this happening to me?

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I closed my eyes and mentally recited the serenity prayer. The reminder relaxed me. I couldn’t change this attraction. I must work on accepting it, whatever that would mean.

“One measurement to go and I’ll get out of your hair,” I told Evelyn brightly, my composure regained.

(Evelyn)

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that Faith had been embarrassed at being next to my boobs. But that would have meant that she was aware of my boobs sexually. And Faith was almost childlike in her ignorance of all things sexual.

A memory poked me. Last year I’d seen nearly that same look in Faith’s eyes, when my sad attempt to make a store-bought Halloween costume modest with safety pins had failed spectacularly and left my cleavage on full display. The look that Faith had bestowed on my breasts had seemed almost lustful.

But I had dismissed that as wishful thinking on my part and made a joke. Nothing in the past year had ever made me question that judgment, but now… Now, I was wondering. Could it be possible that Faith was actually as attracted to me as I was to her? That she was hiding it as much as I was?

I shook my head, that way led dangerous thoughts and dangerous acts. I must be wrong. And if I wasn’t wrong, then Faith would be having some serious internal conflict about it, wouldn’t she?

Maybe I should tell her I’m bisexual, I wondered. Maybe, if she was struggling with those types of feelings, it would help her to know I could understand. Maybe I just wanted something impossible, I chided myself.

I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that it wasn’t until Faith had raised both my arms and wrapped her tape around my chest that I realized what measurement she was taking now. She was standing behind me, her hands well away from my boobs, but even the slight pressure of the tape on them, knowing she was holding it, was enough to send a tingle through me.

A thousand questions raced through my head. Was she trying to avoid touching my breasts by standing behind me? Or was that just the way these measurements were taken? Was there any chance that I’d seen what I thought I saw, or was my mind playing tricks on me?

After Faith left with her measurements I stared at my computer and let my thoughts rattle around in my head. I had loved Faith as more than a friend for years now, ever since we were roommates in college. She was the reason why I’d opted to move into my grandparent’s house when my parents moved them into a nursing home, instead of leaving for a better job. She was the reason I hung around this old town.

If there was a chance, any chance that she might feel the same, could I ignore it? Could I let that possibility slip through my fingers?

I had tried, every once in a while, to have a relationship with someone else. I’d dated several guys in college, and even pursued a couple women. But with every date I couldn’t help but compare them to Faith, unfavorably.

Thinking back, I couldn’t recall Faith having ever gone on a date. She would tell me about the young men her father introduced to her, and there were a lot of those. But somehow, there was something wrong with all of them.

It was always a nebulous kind of reason, like she was looking for things to reject. I’d always thought that her father just picked creeps, and Faith was picking up on that but was too nice to say it. But now… Now I was thinking that Faith maybe wasn’t attracted to any of them, couldn’t be attracted to them?

I cast my mind back to high school and middle school. Had Faith crushed on the same guys as the rest of our group of girls? No, she’d always said it was improper and refused to participate in our hunk gossip. Hmm…

This was huge. This was massive. This could be life altering for me, and Faith especially.

I had to find out. But I couldn’t just ask. Faith was generally a pretty open person, but she was driven by Catholic guilt. If she thought her feelings were wrong, she’d shut them down and never admit anything.

I’d have to be clever, to leave a trail of breadcrumbs that would tease out the idea of accepting homosexuality in general first, and then her own feelings second.

I pounded out the last of my new code and set it to compile. In the five minutes that took, I poured myself an iced tea and considered my plan.

(Faith)

I should not have offered to make Evelyn’s costume, I realized. It wasn’t that I minded the work. No the problem was that as I planned the design and thought of how it would look, I had to think about Evelyn’s body. How would her curves look under the cotton fabric? Where would I put darts to complement her shape best?

Even worse, as I felt the soft cotton sheet that I was using to make her jumpsuit I couldn’t help but imagine that same soft fabric on her skin, gliding over legs, and butt, and stomach as she pulled it on. The same darts that I was sewing would hug her chest and butt cheeks. The zipper that I put in the back would open to reveal the expanse of her perfect skin.

The leaves and yarn that I sewed in place, to wrap around her body… This one would lie on her thigh, this one on her hip, this one across her pelvis, and then up to her breast. My dreams were full of Evelyn singing in a dress of vines, her perfect breasts swinging as she moved, only her nipples covered with a few well-placed leaves. And her naked thighs, large and round and soft, spreading wide as she took her stance, opening her vulva to the air that surely went through her vine dress with ease.

For the first time in my life, I touched my lady parts. I thought I had been so good, so pure, to never feel this way. I had not understood it when friends had spoken of lust for the men they dated. I had judged them poorly. But it had been me, hadn’t it? I had been the one who was missing something.

And in the night as these desires consumed me, I remembered. I remembered when I’d first felt that tingle of desire for a woman, way back when everyone was dating and exploring. And I’d pushed that thought down ruthlessly. I had closed myself off, entirely.

But now those feelings were breaking loose, and I was powerless to prevent it. I cried and pressed my hand into my slit desperately. Why? Why did I have to want what wasn’t allowed?

Romans 1:26 flashed through my mind, words imprinted on an image of Evelyn:

That is why God abandoned them to their shameful desires. Even the women turned against the natural way to have sex and instead indulged in sex with each other.

Shameful desires. Unnatural.

Guilt flooded me as I remembered Father John’s injunction.

“God made you like this. God loves you like this. Do not judge yourself harshly for what you cannot control.”

But how? How could I reconcile the sin so clearly condemned in God’s word and the fact that he made me this way? I should have asked Father John when I confessed, asked him about this scripture and how I was to accept the burden of these shameful desires.

With a cry of despair, I threw my sheets off and jumped out of bed. Charity work, that’s what I was supposed to do for impure thoughts. I grabbed my knitting, and my hands flew as I worked on my latest hat. Knit, knit, purl was the simple ribbing pattern as I went round and round. But I forgot to decrease my stitches and by the morning I had a tube that was a foot long.

I had survived the night, though, the crisis of the moment. I was calm again as I went in to work. I was calm until work ended and I remembered that it was choir practice tonight. Well, I had no one to blame but myself.

The cowardly part of me wanted to run away, to not go. But I had pushed Evelyn to join the choir and it would be terrible to abandon her there.

(Evelyn)

“How about we go to the movies after church on Sunday?” I asked Faith after choir practice.

I had barely felt any anxiety about singing today, with my thoughts full of Faith. After racking my brain for ideas on how to get Faith to talk to me about lesbianism, I’d decided a movie was just the thing. Sadly, there hadn’t been any in theaters about lesbians, but there was one with a gay couple and that was good enough for a start.

“A… A movie?” Faith asked.

“Yeah, it’s been forever since we’ve gone to the movies. It’ll be fun!”

“I can’t this Sunday. I’m sorry.” Faith said, turning her face away.

I gaped. This was unexpected. Faith was always free on Sundays. It was her rest day, and we often did things together after church.

“Oh, what are you doing?” I asked, keeping my tone light and curious.

“Sorry Evelyn, I have to go.” Faith blurted as she walked away from me, “See you Sunday!”

I stared at her rapidly retreating form. This was worse than I thought. She was avoiding me now. Briefly I wondered if there could be something else going on. Could she be sick and not want to tell me? Could she be upset with me for some reason?

But no, I had seen the look on her face. I had dismissed it the first time, but I wouldn’t this time. And it seemed like Faith wasn’t dismissing it either, not now.

She sure wasn’t going to make this easy, though. That much was clear. Well, she couldn’t avoid me forever. There was still the haunted house that she’d promised she go with me to. And Faith never broke a promise.

Faith arrived late to church on Sunday, which was unheard of. Therefore, she did it to avoid talking to me. She stepped up next to me just as the director was signaling for the opening hymn.

I glanced at her and whispered out of the corner of my mouth, “Nice that you decided to join us.”

“I never miss service,” Faith told me primly, not looking in my direction.

I stifled a laugh as I started singing. She was too uptight, and I’d always found her to be her cutest when she was wound up. In between songs, I thought about a new plan. The movie could still work, if I could just get her to agree to go to one.

Next to me, Faith suddenly jerked and stared wide-eyed at Father John. What had I missed? I tuned into the service and a bit of dread shot through me. He was talking about homosexuality.

I cringed, a fire and brimstone sermon on the evils of being gay would break Faith right now. She was clearly already struggling. A swell of anger pounded through me at the whole Catholic church for being so damned repressive and old fashioned.

But, as I listened to Father John talk, my anger faded away. This wasn’t the sermon I’d been expecting. This was, well, brilliant!

“We Catholics have had a very disruptive relationship with homosexuality in recent years. This is not a topic I have spoken about with this congregation before, and I’m not sure what you may have heard from my predecessor, Father Luke.

“Some of you might be aware that this month is LGBT history month. In 1969, police raided a known meeting place for homosexuals called the Stonewall Inn. In the aftermath of the violent raid, rioting erupted in New York City. This is marked as the first time that the public showed strong support for homosexual rights in the USA.

“In 1973, twenty-nine homosexuals were burned to death inside a bar in New Orleans. The suspect was never charged with a crime. In 2016, over 50 LGBT youth were gunned down at a bar in Orlando. These tragedies are the result of festering hate and fear.

“Some among you may feel that it is justified, to judge the homosexual. But as Pope Francis himself has said, ‘If they accept the Lord and have goodwill, who am I to judge them?’ Who are any of us to judge?

“Consider Romans 3:10-12, 23: There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one… for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God

“Let me repeat, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. We have all sinned. It is not our right to judge our colleagues, friends, family members, or ourselves. It is God’s place alone to judge.

“Remember John 4:16: God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. If ever you have a choice between love and judgment, choose love.”

The sermon continued in that vein for some time, and my heart filled with some great emotion I could not name. It was like love, but not, like pride, but not. For the first time I thought I felt the presence of God, blessing me with his grace.

This was a sermon for me and for Faith. It struck me in my heart as certain as anything in my life. Although Father John never once looked towards the choir, I knew he was talking to Faith. Had she spoken to him? If she had, then her feelings were stronger than I could have imagined.

Or was I imagining this whole scenario, where Faith was beginning to feel the same for me as I felt for her? Was I fooling myself, seeking meaning in every random coincidence? Either way, I couldn’t let this continue, it was too much. I had to find a way to talk to Faith.

(Faith)

Father John’s words filled me with hope. Of course, I told myself, I am only human. Who am I to hold myself to the standard of perfection? None are perfect, and if I can recognize and forgive that in everyone else, why not in me?

I felt a measure of peace as we sung the closing hymns. I still couldn’t look at Evelyn though. Somehow, I thought that if I looked at her, she would be able to see into my soul and know my secret. And as much as I felt calmer, I didn’t feel ready for that.

So, as soon as we sang the last notes, I hurried to leave.

“Faith!” I heard Evelyn call behind me.

But it was faint, and I convinced myself that I had nearly not heard it. In fact, it could have been a squeaking door, or a chair scraped across the floor, or something. Lying to myself, I left the church.

I avoided Evelyn strategically for the next three weeks, showing up late for choir practice and church and leaving early, not answering texts, generally being a bad friend. But the avoidance had the desired effect, my episodes of lust died down. I was even able to work on her costume without imagining her wearing it.

And then Evelyn walked into my work one afternoon and I had nowhere to hide.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said.

“No…” I said, looking at her ear intently.

“I know you’re looking at my ear and not my eyes.” Evelyn commented.

And that was the problem with Evelyn, she knew all my bad habits, like exactly how I lied.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why have you been avoiding me,” Evelyn pressed.

I looked around the store helplessly, seeking some inspiration. None appeared.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No!” I said, shocked at this assertion. “How could I be mad at you? You’re my best friend.”

Evelyn smiled grimly, “I thought I was your best friend, but you haven’t answered my texts for three weeks! Are you sick?”

“No!” I shook my head.

Guilt burned inside at this new question. Had she been worried for me? And I’d just been thinking of myself and my own issues.

“Well then, there’s no reason you can’t go with me to the haunted house this Friday.” Evelyn declared, as if laying down a challenge.

“Right,” I agreed before what she had said really sunk in.

She’d railroaded me, bamboozled me again! I was both irritated and amused, eager and scared.

“I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” Evelyn said and left, giving me no chance to try to argue out of it.

(Evelyn)

I was feeling very triumphant. This Friday was nearly Halloween and then the haunted house would be closing. I couldn’t let Faith get away with not going there with me. I couldn’t let her suppress whatever it was she was feeling unaddressed.

I had no idea what had happened to our costumes, and I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to give Faith an excuse for delaying our trip, potentially until the haunted house closed. So, on Friday I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a zombie on it.

I drove over to Faith’s apartment building and parked in the lot. I got to the building door just as someone was heading out and decided to just go on up rather than buzzing Faith from the door. I knocked on her apartment door loudly.

And waited.

After three minutes I was convinced she’d bailed on me. But then the door opened.

“Hi!” Faith said brightly, deceptively cheery as she stepped back so I could go in.

As always, her apartment was a mess, with various crafting projects strewn across the room. Faith bounced over to her dining table that supported her sewing machine and picked up a bundle of green.

“Here’s your costume!” She handed the pile to me.

“You finished it!” I was delighted, but totally caught off guard.

“Yep!”

I took a deep breath and began changing right there, in the middle of the living room. We’d changed in front of each other a ton of times before. Not lately, true. Not since high school, I realized as I thought about it. Still, if nothing had changed, then this wouldn’t bother Faith at all. Faith gaped at me as I pushed off my jeans.

“Well, are you going to change?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Faith said as she quickly turned her back and picked up another pile of clothes off the table.

Feeling bolder than usual, I watched as she undressed, admiring the bare skin of her back and legs. After I got my own shirt off, I opened up the green piece of clothing on top of my pile and let it fall open. It was a gorgeous jumpsuit with an ivy pattern that covered it.

“This is beautiful,” I breathed.

“Yeah.” Faith affirmed. I glanced up and saw she’d turned towards me when I spoke and was looking right at me, not the jumpsuit.

She’d already put on her shirt and my eyes wandered down to her underwear. I longed to touch her, to feel her smooth skin, to take her top back off, to press my breasts into hers and to say screw it to going out. But that couldn’t happen, not yet.

I flicked my eyes back up to hers and realized she was making the same sweep over my body that I’d just made over hers. My nipples tightened with arousal, and I tingled. Then, she turned away again, and the feeling faded.

I sighed and stepped into the jumpsuit. The cotton was cool and soft against my skin. Once, this had been a pretty high-quality sheet, I mused. The fit was perfect too, even down to the shape of it as it hugged my chest and butt.

I sighed as I ran my hands down the soft sides of the jumpsuit. I wasn’t going to want to take this off, it was too nice. I reached behind me to zip myself up, but I couldn’t quite reach.

(Faith)

“Faith?” Evelyn said, “Can you zip me up?”

I sucked in a breath. I knew this was coming. But I could handle it. I had accepted my attraction, and attraction didn’t have to mean action. So, I could do this.

Sure, I’d had a bit of a hiccup earlier when I’d stared at Evelyn half-dressed. But I hadn’t gone over and taken the jumpsuit from her hands and put it on her myself as I’d felt compelled to do, had I? Nope, I hadn’t. Everything was fine!

I finished pulling on my shorts over my leggings and went over to Evelyn. She had her back to me, and her bare skin gaped out of the open zipper exactly as I’d imagined it would when I had created the design. I noted happily that the darts I put in for her butt were perfect.

Carefully, I reached out and tugged the zipper up gently, concealing the smooth, perfect skin of her back. Once it was all the way up, I stepped back. Evelyn turned around. She was so close that we nearly touched.

“Thanks!” She grinned at me.

“You’re welcome,” I said as evenly as I could managed, “I got you a red wig too, if you want to wear it?”

“Yeah, let’s go all out,” Evelyn grinned.

“Well, sit down,” I gestured at one of the kitchen chairs.

I used a comb to separate Evelyn’s hair into a few smaller clumps and braided each section. It felt sensual, somehow, to be pulling my fingers through her hair. I went slow, savoring the contact. There couldn’t be anything wrong with this, could there?

Once she had ten small braids sticking out from her head, I picked up a bunch of bobby pins and pinned them down to her head. Her hair smelled delicious, and it felt wrong to put the stocking cap on and hide her beautiful curls.

I fit the red wig over her head and walked around to the front of her to check the fit. I fussed with the edges until everything was lined up correctly, then examined her face, holding a hand to each of her cheeks.

When my eyes met hers, I realized how close we were, how long her eye lashes were. And her lips, so full and luscious and so close to mine. I felt her pulse quicken in her neck as my fingers fell slowly from her face, dragging along her skin down to her shoulders.

I felt heat spread through me when Evelyn reached up and put her hands on mine. She tilted her head back, her lips almost begging to be kissed.

Wait, no! What was I thinking? Evelyn didn’t want that. I did. I couldn’t project what I wanted on her. I took a breath and slid my hands out from under hers, stepping back.

“You look great!” I told her sincerely. “Let me just do my hair, and we can go.”

I had already put my hair in pigtails before Evelyn had got there, spending way too long trying to get them perfectly smooth. I grabbed a towel and put it behind a pigtail and handed a bottle of hair color spray to Evelyn.

“Can you spray it?”

“Of course,” She said.

The first pigtail was red, and the second was blue. I slipped on my jacket and shoes while Evelyn put her boots back on, and then we were ready.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

(Evelyn)

There was a huge line for the haunted house. This close to Halloween, of course there would be. Unfortunately, it was also chilly, and my jumpsuit was not built for warmth. I recalled Faith’s early concern about this very topic ruefully. Well, it was too late to put on any kind of underclothes for warmth now.

I shivered and my nipples tightened.

“Are you cold?” Faith asked, worried.

“A little, but don’t worry!”

Faith started taking off her jacket.

“Don’t you dare. I’m fine. Besides, if you take off your jacket, you’ll be cold.” I said.

Faith frowned, then she stepped up next to me and put one of her arms around me. The warmth from her body spread through me. I leaned into her as another shiver shook me. Faith rubbed her hand up and down over my arm.

“Thank you,” I grinned at her.

“If I had been thinking, I would have made sure you wore something under your outfit.” Faith said.

“But this costume looks amazing the way it is.”

Faith didn’t reply immediately, she looked at the crowd and pursed her lips, “Looks like we’ll be waiting for at least an hour, are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yeah, especially with you holding me.” I said, pressing myself into her.

“Hey,” I said, as if it had just occurred to me, “did you know that Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy become a couple in the comics?”

It wasn’t the most elegant approach to the topic, but I needed to get some conversation going on homosexuality, and the hour we were going to stand in line seemed like as good as it was going to get.

Faith jerked a little in surprise, “What? Really?”

“Yeah, they’re a pretty popular lesbian couple among comic fans.” I pressed my point home.

Faith was quiet for a few minutes, and I let her think through this new information.

“Do you think it’s wrong, to be homosexual?” Faith finally asked.

I let out a mental whoop. This was my moment!

“Not at all. In fact, I’m bisexual.”

For the second time, Faith jerked in surprise.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know some of those dates I went on in college were with women.” I commented lightly as if my entire world didn’t hinge on her response.

“I think…” Faith said and paused.

I held my breath.

(Faith)

Evelyn was bisexual? How had I never known this? Had she thought I would judge her? Is that why she hadn’t told me. But then, why tell me now?

It must have been because of Father John’s sermon. He had made it clear that homosexuality shouldn’t be judged against or denigrated. And I’d thought that whole sermon was for me. How vain I’d been. Of course, there must have been others in the church who struggled with the same thoughts, mustn’t there?

I wanted Evelyn to know I didn’t judge her. But even more, I wanted Evelyn to know the secret I had been keeping these last few weeks. It had killed me to separate from her, to watch her sing so beautifully and to leave her.

“I think…” I said and then gulped, a lump forming in my throat. This was harder than telling Father John had been.

“I think I’m a lesbian.” I finally said, whispering the last word.

“Oh, Faith.” Evelyn said and put her arm around me and squeezed. “It’s OK to be a lesbian.”

“I know,” I said, lying.

I didn’t know it was OK. I was working on accepting that it was OK, but it was hard. I felt abnormal and wrong and like a failure.

“I never liked any of the guys Daddy set me up with, and now I guess I know why.” I choked on a cry.

“Is it just that you don’t feel attracted to guys?” Evelyn asked, “Or are you attracted to women?”

“I… I’m attracted to women. A woman.” I added absent mindedly.

Evelyn squeezed me and my pelvis tightened with lust. “Tell me about her,” she said.

I groaned, how could I? Evelyn might have just told me she was bisexual, but that didn’t mean she returned my newly discovered feelings. It wouldn’t be fair to put that on her. But she was waiting for an answer, and no answer was as bad as admitting she was the one.

“She’s got an amazing voice.” I said finally, “And she is so funny, and beautiful.”

“She sounds great, do I know her?” Evelyn pressed.

“No, no you don’t know her.” I lied, trying to avoid looking at her ear.

“There’s a woman I like too.” Evelyn said.

Jealousy shot through me at those words. Irrational and hot. I did my best not to show it. There was no reason for me to be jealous, Evelyn hadn’t even known I might be interested in women until tonight, and I’d just claimed I was interested in some stranger.

“She’s compassionate and giving, always volunteering for some silly thing. She’s great at making things, and she’s the cutest women I’ve ever seen.”

That, that sounded like me, actually. Could Evelyn be talking about me? Could she really have a crush on me? No, that would be too perfect, and nothing was ever that perfect in real life.

We both fell silent for a bit as our line moved slowly forward. Suddenly, Evelyn’s voice broke the silence, and I jumped a bit in surprise.

“I’m talking about you, Faith. I like you, as more than a friend.”

I gazed into Evelyn’s eyes in surprise and wonder. Was this true? Could my best friend not only accept my sinful desires, but actually return them? Her face bent lower towards mine and my chest filled with anticipation. I wanted to feel her lips on mine.

But Evelyn didn’t kiss me. She brought her face close to mine and waited. She was waiting for me to decide, I realized. I nearly laughed as it occurred to me that she needed to know as much as I had, that her feelings were returned. Once again, I’d been vain in my thinking.

(Evelyn)

I held my face close to Faith’s waiting for her response to my confession. I needed to hear the words, to hear that she felt the same way about me that I felt about her. With each passing moment of silence, my heart clenched tighter in fear.

“I was talking about you too, Evelyn,” Faith whispered, so close that her breath tickled my nose as she spoke.

I nearly crumbled in relief. And then, soft lips pressed to mine.

First, I felt shock. Had Faith actually kissed me? I thought we were still a long way from such things. I thought that we’d have to talk far longer to get here.

But I shook off that feeling and kissed back. There was no way I could let this chance be wasted on a lackluster response. I brought one hand up to wrap around the back of her head and shifted my body forward into hers.

Faith drew back, and I released her. I certainly wasn’t going to push any of her boundaries. I was amazed enough about what had just happened. My heart pulsed with joy, and I tingled, everywhere.

I looked into Faith’s eyes, trying to understand what was happening in her head right now. Was she feeling guilty, nervous, aroused? Would she pull away or push for more?

No matter what, I was here for it, here for her.

“I think I’ve always loved you, Evelyn. But I don’t know how to do this… romance thing.” Faith finally said.

“There is no right way, no wrong way. We just do what feels right.” I told her.

“What will I tell Daddy?” Faith moaned.

I hugged her and kissed her forehead gently, “Your father loves you, Faith.”

“But he wants grandchildren!”

“Hush, don’t worry about that right now. Let’s enjoy this haunted house.”

We were rapidly closing in on the entrance. I was a swirl of unexpected emotions already. More had happened tonight than I ever thought possible. Last month I thought I’d faced my greatest fear, singing in front of a crowd. But maybe that had just been the practice run for tonight, for telling Faith how I felt.

And now, what was there left to fear? A sexy haunted house? I laughed.

“What’s funny?” Faith frowned.

“I thought I was going to need this erotic haunted house to get you sufficiently aroused to try to discover if you might like me as more than a friend. And look, didn’t need it after all.”

Faith giggled, then erupted with laughter too.

“I wanted to see it, that’s why I took the bet.” She admitted.

I raised a mischievous eyebrow at her, “Did you?”

Faith looked up at me through her eyelashes, “I always need you to give me an excuse to do the things I know I shouldn’t do.”

“Oh, I see. That’s why you keep me around.” I grinned.

I could handle being her wild side. No one could stay sane, repressing all their desires all the time. No matter how much Catholics liked to talk about it, most of them recognized their human limitations. Faith was good in so many ways, she needed something for herself too. And if she was going to look out for everyone else, I was going to look out for her.

There was no more time to talk, we were entering the House of Erotic Horrors. Faith squeaked and hid behind me. I loved that, how she trusted me to be the strong one. With her clinging to my waist, her body warming my back, I could face anything.

I stepped forward into the dark.

(Faith)

I clung to Evelyn as she confidently strode into the haunted house. The last time I’d been to a haunted house had been three years ago; it had been terrifying. The only thing that made me want to come to this one was the naughty nudity factor.

I never watched porn, always looked away when something got too sexual. But I wanted to look, wanted to see what I was missing. When Daddy had first told me about this place, I’d been disturbed, as expected. But then, thinking about it more, I’d been fascinated.

I couldn’t actually go, though. No way! Not until Evelyn had given me an excuse. I clung to her now, incredibly grateful that she was there to be my buffer against the world, letting through just enough wildness to sate my need.

We pushed through a barrier of hanging black strings and were blasted by a gust of cold air. Fog filled the room up to our knees and just ahead of us I could see a nude woman, tied with open arms and legs to the wall. She had entrails dripping from her abdomen that covered her pelvis with blood and gore, but her breasts were completely uncovered.

Heat spread through my lady parts at the sight. Next to her, a man wearing nothing but hospital pants and a dusting of blood splatter turned and jumped in front of us. He held a bloody knife and waved it threateningly. Evelyn jumped and stopped for a moment before moving forward again.

She didn’t scream, but I did. I squeezed closer to her and kept an eye on the knife-wielding man as we left the room. The shocking shift from arousal to terror made me feel really anxious. It had probably been a bad idea to do this. How would I survive until the end?

Next, we saw a man who appeared to be naked, but it was hard to tell because he was crouching in a corner, gnawing on something. All of a sudden, he took the thing out of his mouth and thrust it forward into the light. It looked like a penis, like I’d seen in glimpses anyway.

As the man stood to put his prize in the light, his own bloody crotch was revealed. Oh, what a horrifying idea! I cringed into Evelyn. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, part of me felt pity for the sad insane man. How much would someone have to hate themselves to do something like that?

Each new room was a window into a disturbed mash up of sex and horror. And to my shame, it aroused me. There was a woman who appeared to be impaled on a pyramid, blood dripping down the sides. She was bound with her hands above her head and gagged. Her eyes were wide and frantic as she looked at us. There was a man with great bloody whip gashes along his back as another man wearing nothing but a mask stood behind him, cracking a bull whip into the air. While the men just made me feel pity or terror, I realized that seeing the women in peril thrilled me.

If I had any doubts remaining about my sexuality, this resolved them. At some point, conflicting emotions overwhelming me, I started crying. I didn’t want to be a lesbian. I didn’t want to be aroused by blood and gore. I wanted to be normal, just like Daddy deserved, a normal Catholic daughter.

When we finally made it out of the nightmare, back into cool night air, I clung to Evelyn tightly. Now, I didn’t want her to see how upset I was. I wanted this to be a nice night for us and to not ruin it with my issues.

(Evelyn)

The haunted house was everything I’d hoped for and more. Between Faith hugging me from behind and the glorious erotic horror in front of me, I was feeling really horny. I turned to look at Faith and see how she liked it, but she just kept holding on to me as I turned.

Frowning, I but my hands over hers on my stomach and tried to gently pry them loose. She just clenched tighter.

“Are you alright, Faith?” I asked, really worried now.

“Yes!” She squeaked.

I didn’t believe it for a second. My arousal was rapidly replaced with concern. I should have known this would be too wild for her. But I’d let myself be blinded by what I wanted.

Deciding to let her stay where she was clearly comfortable for now, I led us back to my car. Walking over to the passenger side door, I tried turning towards her again. This time, maybe because of the distance from the haunted house, or extra time that had passed, she let me turn in her embrace. I put my arms around her and hugged her.

“It was too much, wasn’t it?” I asked.

Faith nodded, her cheek rubbing against mine. I thought I even felt a bit of wetness there. My heart ached. My poor naïve, innocent, Faith.

“Are you ready to go home?” I asked after holding her for a couple minutes.

Another nod.

I pulled back and opened the door for her. Faith slipped from me and sat in the car. I closed the door and sighed heavily. I hoped I hadn’t broken her. We’d made so much progress and then I’d just pushed for more. I cursed myself for a fool.

We were quiet for a while as I drove. I couldn’t think of anything useful to say, so I said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Faith whispered.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t be. I’m sorry! I thought it would be fun.” I said.

“I thought so too. But it was so realistic, and I just felt so horribly, imagining real people going through those things they acted out. And then…” Faith paused for a long while. When she continued, it was quieter, “then I was excited by the women. They were all made up to be bleeding and in pain and it made my lady parts hot!”

I stifled a laugh. Only Faith could make getting turned on by naked women sound like a bad thing. Sobering, I shook my head. She had so much sexuality she’d been ignoring for so many years. This exploration was going to be hard for her.

“It’s not wrong to be turned on by naked women,” I said. “I know I was.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, totally. I mean, did you see that girl’s boobs in the first room? They were so cute and round and really pert. And her nipples!”

I got a bit lost as I remembered how she’d looked, tied up and exposed. I wondered if Faith would ever let me see her boobs like that, completely open.

“My boobs don’t look like that,” Faith noted, sounding a bit cross.

Shit! I realized my mistake too late.

“Well, I’ve never seen your boobs without a bra on. I bet they look even better than that woman’s did.” I tried fixing it.

Truth was, I’d never seen a set of boobs I didn’t like. Couldn’t even imagine ugly boobs. Probably that wasn’t what Faith wanted to hear, though. So, I kept my mouth shut on that thought. I did wish there had been more vaginas on display, thought. But I wasn’t too surprised about that. Vaginas and penises were a bit more risqué than boobs.

Faith was quiet for the rest of the drive home. I was kind of crushed. I’d hoped for some progression of the physical side of our relationship, but it looked like I wasn’t going to get that now.

(Faith)

I watched Evelyn’s face as she talked about boobs and a shiver of heat shot through me. I realized with a shock that I’d seen that face before. I’d thought of it as her “zoned out” face. But, if that was her aroused face, then maybe she was aroused by me, and way more often than she let on.

A desire to show her my boobs grew in me. I wanted to see that face again and know I put it there. That my body was the one to put that look in her eyes.

Could I do it though? I’d kissed her earlier and that had been wonderful. Surely, I could do this too. We’d have to go to my apartment to change after all. It would be the perfect opportunity.

By the time Evelyn finally pulled into my parking lot I was bursting with nervous energy. I hopped out of the car and turned to see Evelyn eyeing me with worry from the car. Wasn’t she coming?

“Come on!” I called and waved her to join me.

Looking a bit surprised, she unbuckled and got out, following me into the building.

As soon as the apartment door closed, I kicked off my shoes and said, “Let’s get changed.”

I began shedding my layers of costume. First my accessories, then the satin jacket, then my blue and red shorts, then the shirt on which I’d carefully written ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster.’ Next, off went the leggings. Once I was down to my underwear I stopped and glanced at Evelyn.

She was still standing next to the door, watching me. Her expression seemed guarded and curious and a little amused. I stared at her as I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Evelyn sucked in a breath as I showed myself to her brazenly. My nipples hardened at the exposure, and I resisted the urge to cover myself. My heart fluttered as I saw the same look of adoration blossom in Evelyn’s face that I’d seen before. That look made me feel more beautiful than I’d ever felt.

Evelyn stepped closer to me, and closer until she was just inches away. I longed for her to touch me, to kiss me. I didn’t move though, frozen by uncertainty.

“May I touch them?” Evelyn asked, finally.

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat.

For the first time in my life, someone touched me sexually. Evelyn placed one delicate palm under each of my breasts and lightly pressed, as if weighing them in her hands. She flicked her eyes from my breasts to my face and back again.

“I want to taste them.” She said softly.

I nodded again. It was beyond my power to speak.

Evelyn bent down and ran her tongue across one of my nipples. I gasped and arched my back. A spasm shot through my lady parts. I’d never felt anything like this before and I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d rather feel it with than my best friend.

Evelyn’s lips wrapped around my crinkled nipple, applying delicate pressure. Then, she licked again, this time inside her mouth. And then she sucked. More of my boob got pulled inside her warm, wet, embrace.

She moved her hand on my other breast higher and lightly pinched my other nipple. It felt glorious. I had never imagined it could feel so good.

Guilt flared in me. I shouldn’t be doing this, indulging in homosexual actions. This was so much worse than just having urges. And yet, and yet… I didn’t want to stop.

“This is sinful.” I said, with a mix of excitement and guilt.

(Evelyn)

I was ready for that objection. I’d done plenty of research in the last three weeks, waiting for my chance. I stopped worshipping Faith’s breasts and looked into her eyes.

“Corinthians 7,” I said, then recited: It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman. But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband. The husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband. For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise, the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer; but then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control

“If the apostle Paul can recognize that men and women are compelled despite their best intentions to be sexual, and if he can give absolution for this between a consenting pair, then how can you expect to resist your urges? God made you this way, with these desires. The Bible grants that not everyone can resist their sinful desires and provides a way to give in, within a loving union. So surely, surely, although this may be sinful, it isn’t wrong.”

I held my breath. Would my argument work to ease her guilt? I was all too aware of how many verses could be turned against me here. The Bible was such a conundrum, when you took bits here and there, you could justify anything. Yet, the most important part, as far as I was concerned, the life and acts of Christ, was so often overlooked.

Do not judge, have faith. Love and be loved. Again and again, writ in so many ways and still that message was overlooked for easier rules to follow. Faith had always embodied that ideal for me, she did nothing but give love. But could she accept it? Despite her reservations, could she accept my love?

Tears leaked from Faith’s eyes as she stared back at me.

“You know Jesus. You know how he lived. He embraced the sinners. He repudiated those who held to the letter of God but not his spirit. He loved all, and he begged all to accept love.

“I love you, Faith. Will you accept my love?” I begged.

More tears fell, but she nodded. A great weight lifted from my chest as I grabbed her and pulled her towards me. Her naked back under my hands felt wonderful. I kissed her cheek, and she moved her mouth to mine.

As our tongues touched, I felt her slowly unzip my jumpsuit down my back. When her hand reached the bottom of the zipper, she let it caress my butt. I moaned and pulled my hands from the sleeves of my costume. Faith helped me remove it and push the costume down my body.

With the jumpsuit pooled around my legs, trapped there by my shoes that I’d never removed, Faith unhooked my bra and pulled it off. Our nipples rubbed each other as we kissed. I had made out with women before, but nothing could compare to this, to this moment when years of unrequited love and suppressed desire were unleashed.

Wetness flooded my vagina. I wanted to take my costume the rest of the way off, but I didn’t want to stop touching Faith long enough to do it. Faith stepped back and pulled me forwards, but I stumbled over my bound-up legs.

She stopped and noticed the problem. Then, gracefully, she knelt down to untie my boots and pull off my jumpsuit. It was wonderful agony to see her lower herself to attend to me. Her scandalous red and blue pigtails bouncing near my crotch. I imagined her licking my clit, holding on to those perfect handles.

I groaned. That was so far from where we were, I had better not imagine it I told myself. I was lucky that we’d even got this far. Incredibly lucky.

(Faith)

It felt so right to kneel in front of Evelyn and serve her. I always loved to serve. I carefully untied her shoes and untangled her legs from the costume. I was painfully aware of her nearly naked lady parts above me. They were covered with simple black panties that looked divine and made me feel awkward about my own plain white underwear.

When she was free, I stood and took Evelyn’s hand and then led her to my bed as I’d wanted. I turned and looked at her. She just wore her panties and the red wig now. I wanted to see her truly nude, though. I had decided to accept love tonight, and give it.

I sat Evelyn down on my bed and crawled behind her. I took off her wig and then the stocking cap and placed them carefully on the bedside table. I gently undid each of the small braids I’d put in earlier and teased out her hair to its’ normal voluminous curls.

I got off the bed again and stood in front of Evelyn. Watching her, I pushed my panties down and took them off. Evelyn stood and took her panties off too. Where my lady parts were bushy with hair, hers were shaved and smooth, with just a slit visible in which everything else much be hiding.

She was beautiful, from head to toe. How had I managed to not see it for so long? How had I blinded myself to her perfection, to my desire for her?

Well, that was over. I vowed it. Evelyn deserved better. I wondered, not for the first time, what held her back from accepting Jesus. Was it because of this, because she had embraced her sexual desires and felt there was no place for her in my church?

The thought made me sad. Had I unintentionally made her feel unwelcome? I thought back to our years of friendship. Had I said something unkind about homosexuality, even as I tried to suppress my own? I shook my head. There was no use getting caught up in that, not now at least. Not while I had my beautiful Evelyn in front of me.

I went to her, and we kissed again. She took one of my pigtails in her hand and tugged my head to one side, bringing her mouth down to lick and nibble my ear and neck. Pulses of pleasure went through me at her every touch.

I pushed her back onto the bed and we lay together. Evelyn wrapped her legs around mine so that her thigh was pushed into my lady parts and my thigh was pressed into hers. The pressure felt so good, it was amazing.

Evelyn started rocking her hips against my leg and she fondled my breast lovingly. I copied her movements and was rewarded by an increase in the sensation in my pelvis. Evelyn pressed her leg into me more tightly as I rubbed my fingers over her lovely nipple.

“Evelyn,” I moaned.

The pressure built and then it burst in an amazing explosion of sensation. My lady parts pulsed, and I gasped and went rigid. Evelyn kept rocking her pelvis against my leg but soon she seemed to be experiencing the same sensation.

As the feeling died down, I felt exhausted and relaxed and drained of the desires that had been plaguing me. In fact, I felt peace. I cuddled into Evelyn, feeling safe and content.

(Evelyn)

Laying in Faith’s bed with her body pressed against mine, having just had passionate sex, my mind exploded. Was this really happening? Alternating waves of emotion pulsed through me in waves: joy, fear, satisfaction, love.

My mind was still whirling when I felt Faith’s breathing slow, and then she started snoring gently. I grinned madly into the dark. The impossible had happened. But I knew, there was more work to come.

Would Faith come out to her father, to her church? Would she really build a life with me? I wanted it so bad. And whether we got a legal marriage or not, we could never marry in her church. The thought saddened me. I knew how much her religion meant to her, how she loved helping prep the church for other weddings, imagining herself as the bride one day.

I laid awake and thought for a long time. But finally, exhaustion won over worry, and I fell asleep.

I woke in the morning to an empty bed. Fear shot through me. Was Faith upset, had she bolted? Where had she gone? I sprang out of bed and dashed into the main room.

“Morning sleepy head,” Faith grinned at me from the kitchen where she was sipping a coffee and scrolling on her phone.

She flicked her eyes up and scanned my body, making me realize I was still naked. Deciding to go with it, I strolled over, trying to exude confidence.

“Hey,” I said and kissed her cheek.

Faith grinned into her coffee. She looked adorable in her cute fuzzy pink pajamas.

“Want some coffee?” She asked.

“Sure,” I leaned back against the kitchen counter and watched as she poured me a cup.

“Careful,” Faith said as she handed me the mug, “you might burn yourself.”

Her eyes traveled down to my breasts, and she made a naughty little smile. I took a careful sip happily. This, this is what I wanted, forever.

“Marry me.” I said, the words popping out before all my worries of the previous night could catch up with my thoughts and lend moderation.

Faith looked startled at the suggestion, “I can’t.”

I bit back an angry reply. There was no point being angry at Faith, and I knew better than to push her on matters that related to her Catholicism.

“Are you going to talk to your father about us?” I asked instead. It wasn’t that much of a better question; I knew as soon as the words left my mouth.

Faith frowned, “Yes.” She said resolutely. “I won’t keep secrets from Daddy. I will tell him, and pray he forgives me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” I argued. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Faith smiled at me sadly. “I love you, Evelyn.”

While that was wonderful to hear, I couldn’t help but wish that statement had been followed by something more. I wanted a promise. A promise that no matter what her father said, she wouldn’t cast me out of her life. A promise that, Catholic rules or not, she would commit to a life with me.

But I knew it was unfair to ask for those things so soon. I had known Faith forever. I knew how important her family and her religion were to her.

I felt a bit better about my prospects when Faith walked over to me and took my coffee mug and set it on the counter behind me. She kissed me on my mouth and then suckled at one of my breasts, then reached between my legs and rubbed her hand into my slit. I groaned and held her, shocked by how forward she was being. Shocked, and grateful.

It was clear that Faith had little idea what she was doing. Her hand rubbed all over my pussy, only briefly and accidentally pressing my clit. But it was the thought that counted. It was her willingness to submit to her sinful desires that meant something special to me.

I enjoyed letting her touch me for a while before I broke away.

“What do you have to do today,” I asked.

“I have to volunteer at the nursing home from 10-2, and then I have a shift at the animal shelter from 4-8.”

I glanced at the clock on the stove, it was 9am. Not long enough for what I wanted to do to her.

“Want to spend the night at my house tonight?” I asked.

Faith looked down for a moment, then into my eyes, “Yes, I do.”

(Faith)

I took a deep breath as I walked over to Evelyn’s house that evening. I had prayed on it from waking up next to her in bed and all day until now. And every time I asked the question to God, the same feeling came over me, I needed Evelyn in my life.

I knew that we could never go back to how we were before, just friends. My craving to touch her was too powerful to deny. I needed too much to be near her. I couldn’t shove all that desire away again. I was human, and I had to accept myself for who I was. That was the message of Father John, and that was the message of Christ.

Accept myself, and work to do good for others. Give love, and accept it, just as Evelyn had said. Tonight, I was accepting love, and tomorrow I would tell Daddy after service. I hoped he could be happy for me and the self-acceptance I’d found.

I walked in the door to the delicious smell of spices wafting from the kitchen.

“I’m here!” I called to Evelyn.

She popped out from the kitchen and sauntered toward me. She was wearing leggings and an oversized t-shirt with a unicorn on it. Her hair frizzed out in a brown halo around her head.

“Hey, sweetie!” She called to me.

I thrilled at the term of endearment. It made this feel so real, this romance. I walked over and kissed her. I couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing her.

Evelyn may have been a terrible knitter, but she was a fabulous cook. We sat next to each other and chatted about inconsequential things as we always had while we ate. But now, there was an undercurrent of sexual tension.

Evelyn eyed me as I finished up the last of my meal, “Let’s take a bath and go to bed.”

Let’s take a bath?

Yes, let’s. Why not? I grinned and followed Evelyn through her bedroom to the master bath. There was a giant jacuzzi tub that would easily fit both of us. Evelyn turned on the water and we undressed quickly, then waited for the hot water to start.

Evelyn stepped in first and I followed. We sank down into the warm water facing each other.

“Why don’t you come over here?” Evelyn asked me, making a come-hither gesture.

I shrugged and slid around to her, settling my back into her chest. Even the feel of her breasts against my back was wonderful. I leaned back into her, and she wrapped her arms around me. After a minute, she grabbed a bar of soap and a loofah and lathered the soap into it. Then, she began cleaning me.

Gentle, scrubbing strokes down my skin, over and over again. First, my neck, then down my arms, then my legs, can then my chest, and finally, my lady parts. With each stroke of the loofah my arousal built. When she pressed the soapy sponge into my slit, I moaned and curled my toes and fingers into the tub.

Evelyn didn’t stop once it was clean, she kept rubbing until the same explosion I’d had last night happened again. I went rigid, then relaxed against her.

“My God,” I said. My eyes shot open with alarm, “My goodness, I mean.”

“Say a rosary for it,” Evelyn laughed in my ear.

(Evelyn)

I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of making Faith cum. After drying off and slipping into bed, I went to do what I’d been dying to do since I woke up that morning. I inched my way down Faith’s body until my head was in her pussy.

She had a full hairy bush that was just lovely. In the dim light that filtered through the window, I spread her labia wide and licked my tongue up into the top of her slit. She tasted clean and soft, and her hair tickled gently at my nose. My own clit tingled in arousal as I licked again.

I poked my tongue around, hunting for her clit. I knew what mine felt like, but I’d never given oral to a woman before. My few lesbian forays had been too short lived for this exploration.

I thought I found it, a hard little nub, and flicked my tongue against it rapidly. Faith shifted and gasped, and I lost my spot. I hunted for it again and again she moved. Frustrated, I pushed my hands against her thighs and pressed her hips to the bed.

“Stop moving!” I whined, before digging in again.

Now, without having my hands to spread her labia open, I had to use my tongue. The hairs in my mouth were mildly disturbing, but certainly not sufficient to stop. This time when I found her nub, Faith only twitched a little, and with my hands on her thighs, I didn’t lose the spot.

Greedily I licked and nibbled. It didn’t take long, not nearly as long as I was prepared for it to take, when I felt her grow rigid and shudder. A tiny bit of fluid spurt onto my tongue. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted sweet.

I licked her a bit longer until she tried to close her thighs on my head, and then I laid next to her, putting my arm out so that she could cuddle into my shoulder.

“Thank you,” Faith said, always polite.

I smirked, “Anytime, sweetie.”

She fell asleep quickly again. And tonight, I was feeling quite a bit less worried than the night before, so it wasn’t long before I drifted off as well.

I woke to an empty bed, again. I suppressed the urge to panic. I got up, put on some leggings and a t-shirt, and made my way to the kitchen. There, Faith was sipping a coffee. She was dressed in nothing but one of my oversized shirts.

“I forgot to bring pajamas,” she explained as I eyed her.

“I’m not complaining,” I said.

I walked over and reached under her shirt hem with a hand, thrilled to feel her bare pussy underneath. I pressed one finger into her vagina, then slid the finger up her slit, wetting her with her own juices. I resisted the urge to fall to my knees and stick my face in her wild bush again.

We didn’t have enough time for that before church.

“Why did you want me to join the choir?” I asked curiously.

Faith looked a bit uncomfortable, “I just love your singing. It always made me feel, loved, I guess? And kind of hot, you know, down there,” she gestured vaguely at her pussy.

I gawked, “Really?”

Faith nodded, “I knew it was wrong, but I used to sneak around and listen to you sing when you thought no one was there.”

“Really?” I asked again, like a broken record.

If I had known that singing was the way to this woman’s heart, I’d have joined the choir ages ago. I shook my head and laughed silently. All my planning on how to arouse her, and what I should have been doing was singing to her!

“Well, now that I know that you’ll never get me to stop singing!”

And I burst into song, At Last by Etta James:

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

Oh, yeah, yeah, at last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

And I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known

Oh, yeah, yeah, and you smile, you smile

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven

For you are mine at last

I couldn’t get enough of the look on Faith’s face as I sang to her.

(Faith)

“I’m going to talk to Daddy after service today,” I told Evelyn as we put on our choir robes.

“Alright,” she said, “do you want me to be there, or get scarce?”

I wasn’t sure. I imagined both scenarios. I realized that what I didn’t want most was for Daddy to be mad at Evelyn. So, probably not there would be better.

“I think I want to talk to him alone,” I said.

Evelyn nodded, “Ok, call me when you’re ready to talk. Or, just come over. I’ll be home.”

Home. Could Evelyn’s home be mine too? It had been once, in college. But then we’d just been friends, and now it would mean something much more.

Service passed quickly, too quickly. And afterward, as agreed, Evelyn left alone. I had a bit of time to wait while Daddy ran his Knights of Columbus meeting that they had every Sunday. I knelt by the altar and prayed.

“Faith?” Daddy’s gruff voice surprised me.

“Oh, Daddy!” I jumped up and flung my arms around him.

“What’s wrong, daughter?”

“Daddy, I have something I need to tell you, and I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Daddy pursed his lips together, “I’m listening.”

I looked around the church, searching for strength. My eyes landed on the cross, with the effigy of Jesus. Reminded of his suffering and how little mine was by comparison, I calmed myself. I could do this.

“Daddy, I..” I gulped and started again. “I’m a lesbian.” I squeaked out the last word quickly.

“What? I didn’t catch that,” Daddy said, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m a lesbian.” I said again, trying my best to articulate the word clearly.

It must have been clear enough because Daddy’s eyebrows shot down and his smile turned into a scowl.

“That’s sinful.” Daddy hissed angrily.

It was as bad as I’d imagined. I burst into tears and ran out of the church, my heart breaking inside. I ran all the way to Evelyn’s house and rushed inside without even knocking.

Evelyn jumped up from the couch where she’d been sitting and hurried to hold me. I cried into her shoulder.

“Is that her?” Daddy’s angry voice thundered through the house. “Is that the harlot that tempted you into sin?”

Evelyn turned towards Daddy and slid me behind her, protecting me just as she done at the haunted house.

“It’s not like that, Daddy!” I shouted from behind Evelyn’s back.

“You will leave my house, or I’ll call the police.” Evelyn said resolutely.

I peeked around Evelyn and saw Daddy back up and stand on the porch.

“I’ll have you hounded out of this town, witch!” He threatened.

“I suggest you go speak with Father John about what it means to be a Christian, sir. Your daughter is a better Catholic than you could ever hope to be. You should be proud of her!” Evelyn shouted, angrier than I’d ever heard her.

Daddy reared back as he’d been slapped, “Yes, I will go talk to the Father.”

And then he turned around and stalked off.

Evelyn went and closed and locked the door. In this small town, no one hardly ever locked doors. It shamed me that she had to do it because of my daddy. I watched sadly as she went around and locked all the windows and the back door too.

“Father John will talk sense into him.” Evelyn said as she held me and rubbed my back. “He’s just in shock, that’s all.”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure he could forgive me. I’d never seen him so mad before.

(Evelyn)

I had rarely ever been so angry. I couldn’t understand Faith’s father’s reaction. I knew he loved her. Ever since her mother had run off when she was little, her father had doted on her.

I’d been jealous of that, seeing as how my dad was about as absent as you could get while still being physically present. For a while, I’d even pretended that Faith’s father was mine too. A father who cared, who was proud of his daughter, who loved her.

It made me so angry to see him treating Faith the way my father treated me, like she was nothing more than a trophy to display when he wanted to look like a good man. Anger burned in my stomach as I held Faith. Her tears soaked my shirt, but I didn’t care. I’d hold her forever if that’s how long it took for us to come to some acceptance of this.

We were sitting on the couch quietly when the doorbell rang three hours later. Faith had stopped crying, but we still hadn’t said much of anything to each other. I disengaged from her and got up to see who it was.

To my surprise, Father John was standing on my porch.

“It’s Father John,” I told Faith as I unlocked the door. “Please, come in.” I said to him.

Faith stood up and threw herself at the priest, “I’m sorry!” She wailed and tears welled in her eyes again.

“Hush, child.” Father John said gently.

Faith gulped down her tears and stepped back.

“I’ve been talking to your father for a while.” He said soothingly, “He wants to apologize. He didn’t think he’d be welcome here, though, so he asked me to come and see if you would come the church to talk to him, both of you.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say ‘no,’ petulantly. But Faith nodded her head miserably, and of course I couldn’t let her go alone. I reached out and held her hand.

She took it, but then glanced at Father John guiltily. He made no reaction to the display of affection. We walked to the church with the priest, quietly.

“Daddy,” Faith greeted her father as we entered the church, dropping my hand.

He was sitting in a pew, reading the Bible. I wondered which verse he was examining. I hoped it the one about casting the first stone, I thought irritably.

“Faith, please forgive me.” He said.