Chapter 1
Urooj Gillespie woke up from the dream with her quivering pussy discharging vaginal juices onto the sheets and the duvet. The room was filled with the pungent aroma of her cum. Her naked body was completely drenched with sweat. She could feel the sweat on her forehead and on her breasts as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her bedroom. Her heart was beating fast, and her nipples were erect.
Urooj lay there stunned. On the one hand she was relieved that it had just been a dream. But another part of her wished that the dream had been real and gone on.
The dream was a recurring one. It was one she had very often these days. And they were always vivid and easy to recall after she woke up.
In the dream, Urooj was wrestling naked with another woman on a golden caramel colored beach somewhere in the Australian outback.
Watching them wrestle was a naked man with an erect cock. He had a cigarette in his mouth. He was watching them as if he didn’t give a shit which of them won.
Urooj and the woman were wrestling for the man. Wrestling for his cock.
They were rolling around on the beach sand. The woman had the upper hand.
Urooj could smell the woman’s aroma and she was aroused by the fact that she and the woman were wrestling naked for the man’s cock. Urooj was trying hard to hide from the woman the fact that her nipples were erect and that her pussy was leaking. The woman she was fighting did not seem aroused at all and was trying to defeat Urooj.
The woman was winning. She was stronger and feistier than Urooj. Urooj felt like a real dirty slut, getting aroused during a naked fight with another woman over a man. She felt like she was the sleaziest cucqueen in the whole world.
But then, she was also desperately aroused and wanted the woman to continue ravaging and humiliating her while the man they were fighting over, looked on.
The woman had mounted her and pinned her arms onto the sand. She whacked Urooj’s naked pussy with her own. Urooj let out a cry of pleasure and twisted and turned on the sand. The woman let out a cry of victory, called Urooj a dirty slut and spat into Urooj’s face. Urooj opened her mouth and drank the woman’s spit down.
Then the woman jumped across Urooj’s body, and her groin was near Urooj’s face. The woman swiftly lowered her pussy onto Urooj’s face.
There was a forest of hair around the woman’s vagina. But the lips of the vagina were a flaming red. The lips were engorged and seemed to have a life of its own. The groin and the inner thighs, which were covered with sweat, gleamed in the sunlight.
And the aroma. Urooj surrendered to the aroma which the woman’s pussy emanated onto her nostrils. Urooj raised her head and let her face get buried in the forest of black hair around the woman’s vagina.
Urooj reveled in the brew of vaginal excretions and sweat from the woman’s pussy and her inner thighs.
Surrendering to her sexual rival only aroused Urooj to another level.
This was what Urooj always wanted – to be sexually humiliated by another woman as the man they were fighting over, looked on.
Now the dream was over, and she was back in the real world.
But Urooj still felt her pussy quiver and longed for the woman to be atop her, whacking her pussy onto Urooj’s pussy.
Alas, she was all alone now in her stuffy bedroom. She wished she was still inside that beautiful dream and her face was buried in that woman’s lambent and dripping vagina.
Urooj moved a hand towards her vagina and inserted two fingers into it. It was wet like a lawn after a spell of rain.
She closed her eyes and began to fantasize about being sexually humiliated by the woman in front of the man they were fighting over.
Chapter 2
Urooj parked the car in front of her clinic. It was a white small two room single floored structure. It was the lone building in the vicinity apart from Lucille’s diner down the gravel drive.
A helicopter appeared on the horizon and flew across the bright morning sky. It was flying real low. Urooj had seen and heard a few helicopters over the last few weeks.
The lemon-honey smell of eucalyptus trees made the morning air sweet. There was also a hint of a cow dung smell. There were farms in the area around Urooj’s clinic. The strong wind spread the dung smell around.
As she opened the white clinic door, Urooj saw an envelope on the floor of the clinic. Urooj had sent her saliva for a test. The folks at the laboratory in town must have dropped it off. A privilege Urooj enjoyed because she was a doctor – a gynecologist.
Urooj sat in her chair, opened the envelope, and took out the one-page report. She stared at the report which she held in her hands. Her beautiful face contorted with a look of intense concern. The saliva test results were positive. She had contracted “Pudenda Atrophy Syndrome” or PAS as it was popularly known.
Was contracted the right word? The symptoms had started a year ago. The pain in the fingers and her shoulders. The softness of her breasts. And of course, there were the strange secretions from her vagina. She had been wearing those special pads across her pussy ever since the secretions started. They were annoying in this heat.
A flash of pain shot through her fingers and Urooj flinched.
She thought she would walk down to the diner and get something to eat. A walk or any physical activity postponed the pain for some time. The next appointment was only at 2, which meant she had an hour to waste.
She put the report down on the table, took her doctor’s overcoat off and wrapped it around her chair. She locked the door to the clinic and stepped out.
She walked up the gravel drive to the diner. The dry heat hit her, but it was not altogether unpleasant. Her light pink cotton shirt and white pants were perfect for this weather.
As she walked, she wondered what she would do. The syndrome would only get worse. There was no known cure for it. It was another vague modern ailment which only had vague treatments that never worked. She would end up a cripple somewhere. In some home. Lonely and helpless.
A controversial paper by Professor Christine Burr had recommended sexual intercourse as the only possible cure for PAS. Professor Christine Burr had concluded that lack of sexual intercourse among women, due to the absence of men during wartime, which had led to disuse of sexual organs was the chief cause of PAS.
Professor Burr’s conclusions were intensely and viciously rubbished as lacking in scientific rigor. But could a root cause for a psychosomatic disease like PAS be determined? Professor Burr’s opponents believed that overuse of modern technology was the root cause of PMS. They had even invented a saliva test which measured the levels of previously ignored hormones that could lead to muscle degeneration and strange unexplained secretions from sexual organs.
When she reached the diner, Urooj ordered an orange-chocolate double sundae. She sat at a table in front of the glass cases which displayed donuts, sandwiches, and pies.
Lucille, the elderly lady behind the counter eyed Urooj suspiciously. Urooj pretended to ignore her and looked around the diner.
There were half a dozen females in the diner – mostly single women like herself. They all came here to look at Myron. Myron was Lucille’s husband. He was the main attraction. Presently, Myron walked out from behind the glass cases with Urooj’s double sundae.
When he placed the sundae in front of her, Urooj ogled at his muscular, sinewy arms. He whispered a howdy at her and walked back behind the glass displays. Urooj watched the muscular man walk away but then caught Lucille staring jealously at her.
Urooj began to eat her double sundae.
When she looked up briefly, the other women at the diner were smirking at her as they had all seen her ogle at Myron.
Urooj quickly finished her sundae and walked out of the diner.
For once, she felt good in the dry heat. It was a relief after the oppressive atmosphere of the diner, filled with sexual jealousy and longing.
Urooj was no alpha female. She couldn’t imagine herself stealing another woman’s man.
The women at the diner were all out to steal Myron from Lucille. It made Urooj sad.
When she reached her office, she reduced the temperature on the air conditioner. She felt better as the room began to chill. She turned on the radio.
“….. an unexplained disease has afflicted the kangaroo population in the Boondenyaba outback, especially its females. Researchers estimate that the female kangaroo population has disappeared by at least fifty percent in the last one year itself. This has left a sizeable number of mateless and violent male kangaroos. There have been at least ten violent kangaroo attacks reported this year. Two of them fatal. The Australian Wildlife Conservancy has issued a warning to the residents of Boondenyaba that male kangaroos might venture into the small town and cause mayhem. Residents are urged to be vigilant …..”
Urooj turned off the radio. The media always bigged up news like this. Murderous sexually frustrated male kangaroos? What next? Psychotic koala bears? Serial killing boa constrictors?
Urooj did not have any patient appointments for the day.
A bolt of pain pulsed through her hand. It was the PAS! She relaxed and took a deep breath and the pain gradually subsided.
She wondered whether she should lock the door and masturbate.
Urooj masturbated a lot these days. In fact, she had always been a veritable masturbator. What else could a woman do if she was still a virgin as she approached her third decade on this planet?
Urooj’s favorite masturbatory fantasy that had been a front-runner for a very long time was the one in which she was out on a date with a man and another woman tried to steal her man. She and the woman engage in a series of physical contests to decide who gets to sleep with the man.
Different variations of this fantasy had haunted her ever since the war had begun. Sometimes the fantasy would manifest itself in a dream like the one she had the previous night in which she was fighting the woman on the beach with the sweaty aromatic pussy.
Urooj unzipped her jeans and inserted her hand into her panties.
Chapter 3
Just when Urooj was getting wet, there was a light knock on the door. Urooj quickly zipped her jeans and called out “come in”.
A woman stepped in. She wore a thin white round neck t-shirt that showed off her black brassiere straps and denim shorts. The woman carried a fat white envelope in one hand.
The woman’s face was rather pale. Urooj was struck by her slimness. She was a young, short woman with shapely legs. As she sat across the table, Urooj saw dark circles under the woman’s eyes that gave her a visage. The woman sat forward in an overeager posture that betrayed anxiety.
The woman introduced herself as Uri and handed the envelope which she carried to Urooj. The envelope contained the results for a saliva test. Uri Ratajczyk was the woman’s full name. It said gynecologist under her profession. Her hormone levels were at a very high level. Much higher than the normal range.
This was the first time Urooj had ever had a PAS patient. And what a day to get one. One the same day she herself had tested positive for the darn thing.
“You are a gynec?”, asked Urooj.
“Yes. I wanted a second opinion.” She sounded uncertain and anxious. Her pretty face looked diseased.
“Well ….. I think the results are quite clear. You have PAS. But I could give you a physical check if you want,” said Urooj.
“That’s what I had in mind.”
“Why don’t you get up on the bed?”, said Urooj pointing towards the small bed beside the table. The woman/Uri got off the chair and climbed onto the bed. As she sat on the bed, her thighs, half-covered by the denim shorts made a nice fleshy shape.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the symptoms,” said Urooj, urging the woman.
“Yes. I have been having copious vaginal secretions since the beginning of this year. That and the aches and pains in my fingers,” said Uri in what seemed to be an attempt at a confident tone. But her pale face betrayed her confident demeanor.
Copious! What a word to describe her vaginal secretions, thought Urooj to herself.
“OK. Any softness in the breasts?” Urooj tried to sound as casual as possible.
“Yes. That too. Do you get a lot of PAS patients?”, asked Uri. It seemed like a harmless question.
“No. Very rarely.” Urooj was not lying. The rare condition affected one in every thirty-six Australian women according to the Journal of Psychosomatic Diseases. Was it as rare as they believed in academic circles? Or was it a case of many women not reporting the symptoms?
“I’d like to take a look at your breasts. Is it OK for you to take off your t-shirt?”, asked Urooj. She tried to hide the shyness in her voice, but it came out all self-conscious.
“Sure”, said Uri tersely and took off her t-shirt with ease and then unhooked her brassiere, to reveal protruding breasts that looked taut and firm.
But when Urooj covered them with her fingers, she could feel a softness. Urooj squeezed them lightly and Uri gasped and Urooj gulped. Uri’s breasts felt good in her hands and Urooj squeezed them once more and Uri moaned this time.
“You can put your t-shirt back on,” said Urooj, trying to sound as professional as possible.
It was the first time she had ever placed her hands on a woman’s bare breasts, and she liked it.
“Do you mind if I took a look at your nether region?”. Urooj did not want to say vagina. Or pussy.
“Ok”, said Uri and she lay back on the bed to take off her shorts. Urooj ogled at her beautiful slim legs with nice fleshy thighs.
When the shorts came off, Urooj saw the pad that covered Uri’s vagina like a loincloth. The pad came off easily and Uri held it in one hand as she spread her legs.
Urooj examined her with a magnifying glass that she kept on the table.
Uri’s pussy had been shaved recently but small tufts of pussy hair had begun to grow back.
There were traces of secretions around the groin. There was the very distinct aroma of cum which indicated to Urooj that Uri had been masturbating just before she had come to the clinic.
Urooj looked at Uri and their eyes met. Right then and there, Urooj knew that Uri realized that she had smelled her cum. An aura of sex had enveloped both women.
Urooj continued to examine Uri’s groin. The hymen was intact. Uri Ratajczyk was a virgin.
Urooj looked up at Uri when she saw the intact hymen and their eyes locked once again an uneasy glance.
Uri had applied some sort of deodorant across her nether region to hide the funky smell that usually accompanied the secretions. The aroma of the deodorant and the cum and the vaginal secretions got Urooj’s nipples hard. She felt a sweat breakout on her forehead.
“You can put your clothes back on”, said Urooj, ashamed of her sexual arousal while examining a patient.
The examination was done, and the two women once again sat across the table facing each other.
“I am afraid, you do suffer from PAS. As a gynec, I am sure you are aware of the implications”, said Urooj matter of factly. Her nipples were throbbing.
“Yes”, Uri gulped and paused for a moment. She looked unwell and her face had taken on a paler shade.
Then Uri continued - “I have been on anti-depressants, muscle relaxants and sleeping pills since the pain and the secretions began. I don’t know what to do. I am being so honest because you are a gynec.”
Another pause. “I want your opinion on Professor Burr’s cure for PAS. Specifically, the “Intimacy Exercises” that two PAS suffering women could perform with each other. I was wondering if you had another PAS patient with whom I could hook up and perform the “Intimacy Exercises” with.”
Urooj was startled but quickly decided to show no expression on her face.
“Er …. well ….. I am sorry. But I do not know of any such woman”, Urooj said uncertainly.
“The Intimacy Exercises” were a series of partner therapy exercises and competitions devised by Professor Burr and her colleague Patricia Waugh. Both of them suffered from PAS when they first met. But the therapy exercises which they performed on each other led to both women showing as much as a 90% recovery from PAS. But they were unable to scientifically prove that it was the exercises that had cured them.
Uri looked deflated. Her face wore a forlorn expression.
“I don’t know what to do. Nothing seems to work. I wouldn’t have wanted to put myself through Professor Burr’s zany ideas. But it is a last resort”. Uri looked away. Her face was anxious.
Then she got up to leave and picked up her report. Urooj did not stop her. She desperately wanted to tell this woman that even she had PAS, but she did not.
“Would you let me know if something comes up? If you find another PMS patient?”, said Uri in desolate voice.
Perhaps it was the utter hopelessness in the way she spoke and looked as she stood there in her white T-shirt and denim shorts. Urooj felt a kinship with this attractive young woman.
Urooj was not about to reveal that she had tested positive only an hour ago. But Urooj got off her chair and walked towards Uri and awkwardly hugged her. Uri hugged back, rather tightly. It was a long time since Urooj had hugged anyone.
When their breasts pressed against each other, neither woman made an immediate attempt to disentangle from each other.
Chapter 4
Urooj stood on her front porch sipping a gin and tonic. A cool forceful breeze kept her company. There was nothing on the horizon except a few grass bushes against the red of the desert sand and rocks in the evening.
Urooj couldn’t even see the road from here. This is how she liked to live. Far away from societies’ huddle.
She had moved to Boondenyabba after the war began five years ago. When she first arrived, Boondenyabba was a moderately thriving small town. She was a busy gynecologist.
Then slowly the men began to leave to fight in the war.
Now there was nothing here except their widows and the single women.
Unhappy frustrated women.
Women without men.
And then there was the PAS. Urooj wondered how many women actually suffered from it. Her practice had been on a downward spiral since the men had started to leave.
Urooj had been thinking about Uri all day. She couldn’t get the suffering slim pale faced woman out of her head. Urooj wished she could help her in some way. Was she serious about practicing Professor Burr’s “The Intimate Exercises” to cure her PAS?
She sipped the last of the whiskey and stepped inside the house. It was warm inside. It had belonged to a middle-aged soldier who had left to fight in the war. When he never came back, his daughter had put the house up for sale. It was a small one-bedroom house with a little wooden hot tub bath on the terrace.
She took a book out from the small library in the sitting room and settled down on the sofa. It was the first edition print of Professor Burr’s “Intimacy Exercises – An Ordinary Woman’s Guide to Sexual Wellness in a Manless World”. The university had refused to print the book, so Professor Burr and her partner Patricia Waugh had put the book out on their own.
Urooj had read the book many times. She turned to a random page and began to read.
“Breast to breast: It has been my experience that mine and my partner’s PAS reduced considerably when we rubbed our bare breasts against each other. A woman’s breast may be said to be a kind of a sexual organ. In the absence of the male to adequately fondle and suckle her breasts, a female’s breasts begin to soften and waste away.
But rubbing of your softening breasts against the breasts of another female will lead to wellness and satisfaction. Do not think of it as a sexual activity (though I must admit that a certain degree of sexual arousal is inevitable in such a situation). The breast to breast rubbing exercise may be undertaken in a bearhugging position (in case you want to be more intimate with your partner) or with hands on hips (in case one or both participants are shy).Alternatively, the participants may interlock fingers in a wrestling pose while rubbing their breasts together. Females of a more aggressive persuasion might indulge in a rough breast fight (or tit fight). But only with the consent of both partners.”
Urooj closed the book. Her nipples were throbbing. There was an itch in her crotch.
Urooj was usually not one to act impulsively. But she took out the telephone directory from a shelf and found Uri Ratajczyk’s number. After a brief pause, Urooj dialed Uri’s number.
Uri picked up the phone after a single ring, almost as if she was anticipating Urooj’s call.
“Uri, this is Urooj Gillespie, the gynecologist. We met earlier today, remember?”, Urooj tried to speak as calmly as possible.
“Oh yes, Urooj. How are you doing? Nice to hear from you,” Uri sounded excited to hear from her.
“Uri, I was thinking about what you said today. That you were looking for a female partner to try out Professor Burr’s Intimate Exercises with. I was wondering if you would accept me as your partner. I think I can help you out here.”
Urooj gulped as she spoke.
There was no response from Uri for a few seconds, so Urooj ventured with a terse “What do you think?”.
“Urooj, that would be nice. Both of us are gynecs and know what we are doing. I must say it would be a pleasure to try out “Intimate Exercises” with you. It is very nice of you to offer to be my exercise partner,” Uri’s tone seemed to mask relief.
“Well, the pleasure is mine. As a gynec, I need the experience in case I encounter more PAS patients and need to partner with them,” said Urooj, unable to mask her excitement.
“That is true. I could use the experience too,” there was a sudden pause as if Uri was reconsidering the proposal.
Urooj waited.
“I was wondering if you have ever contracted PAS yourself”, asked Uri in a slightly suspicious tone.
“No no. I have not. But I am more than happy to work with PAS patients,” Urooj was not about to reveal her secret to this stranger.
Revealing that she had PAS would be an admittance of loneliness and even her virginity.
“OK,” said Uri. She sounded only half convinced.
“Could we commence therapy in my clinic?” asked Urooj.
“Would there be enough space for therapy at your clinic?”, asked Uri.
“Let’s see how the first few sessions go. If everything goes OK and both of us like what we do together, then we could explore other alternatives,” said Urooj, maintaining her matter-of-fact tone.
“Well, that sounds perfect then. I cannot thank you enough. I hope this is a fruitful endeavor for both of us,” said Uri.
“I hope so too. I look forward to working with you, Uri. Shall we meet at 10 am tomorrow?” asked Urooj.
“That should be fine. See you at 10,” said Uri.
“Cool”, said Urooj.
“Wait. Is there any specification regarding attire? What should we both wear?” asked Uri in a rather urgent tone.
Urooj did not know what to say.
“Well, dress normally tomorrow and let’s take it from there,” said Urooj, mildly amused at Uri’s enthusiasm.
After Uri hung up, Urooj poured another gin to soothe her beating heart. Should she reveal to Uri that her doctor also suffered from PAS?
Urooj decided that she would not reveal it just yet.
Chapter 5
Urooj decided to wear a tight cream-colored round neck t-shirt and jeans. She drove down in her 75 Holden Sandman van to her clinic at 9:30 am the next morning. She dusted the place down and made the patient examination bed with fresh sheets.
Uri arrived a little later. Urooj heard her park outside the clinic. She got ready to face her. When Uri stepped inside the clinic, Urooj was once again struck by her lithe figure. Uri wore a loose white sleeveless cotton top and denim shorts.
Urooj got up to greet her when she walked into the clinic and extended her hand.
But Uri ignored her handshake and hugged her. The two women embraced tightly. Urooj was enveloped by Uri’s pleasant strawberry perfume. Uri hugged her tightly and Urooj hugged back reluctantly. The hug went on for a while with their breasts plastered against each other and heaving against each other.
Then the women disentangled, rather reluctantly. Both their faces were flushed red with excitement.
“I am so looking forward to this,” said Uri. Gone was the paleness on her face.
“Er ….. yes ….. um ….. me too,” mumbled Urooj, barely able to contain her own excitement.
“How do you want to start this?” asked Uri.
“I was glancing through Professor Burr’s book yesterday and I was wondering if you wanted to start with the breast-to-breast exercise,” said Urooj.
“Well ….. sounds like a nice place to start. I was glancing through the book myself and …..” Uri paused for a moment as if she was going to say something really important.
“What is it?”, asked Urooj.
“I just want you to know that I am not too shy about this and as my doctor, you are free to take liberties with me. I just want you to know that you don’t have to hold back. Neither of us should hold back. Do you know what I mean?”, asked Uri, almost pining.
“I do. Trust me, I do. I want you to know that I am looking forward to this as much as you are,” said Urooj, gulping.
A wave of intimacy seemed to pass between them.
Urooj could hear the whir of the air conditioner as she faced Uri. She took a step towards Uri and their breasts touched lightly.
“Do you think we should close the door?”, Uri reminded almost apologetically.
“Oh dear,” Urooj almost whispered under her breath.
She walked towards the door and locked it.
When she turned around Uri has closed the distance between them. They stepped forward towards each other and their breasts met and brushed lightly. They stood there, lightly rubbing their breasts against each other, hands on hips. Urooj could smell Uri’s pleasant perfume. It reminded her of strawberry peppermints.
Their small breasts rubbed lovingly. Their chests heaved and they moved closer together. Urooj saw that there were light pink spots on Uri’s face, around the dark circles that surrounded her eyes. Somehow, the spots and the circles made the pretty face memorable.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”, asked Uri.
“You bet it does,” Urooj agreed.
“Do you want to interlock fingers?” asked Uri. Urooj nodded and they raised their hands up and interlocked fingers in a wrestling pose.
They interlocked their fingers tightly and began to push with their breasts. A friendly sense of competition entered their exercise and they both began to push harder by using their interlocked fingers as leverage. Their breasts jostled and played with one another.
“Let’s see who is the stronger gynec”, Uri almost whispered as she pushed harder against Urooj.
Their faces were inches apart. They smiled competitively at each other as they struggled together.
Urooj realized that she was the shyer of the two. Uri pushed with gay abandon as Urooj barely managed to resist her, but she enjoyed the feel of Uri’s body against her own.
“Come on, don’t be shy. Fight back”, said Uri, naughtily.
Uri’s encouragement was fuel for Urooj to snap out of her shyness. She pushed back with her breasts and the room was filled with the sounds of their bodies slipping and sliding against each other, accompanied by their gasps.
Uri had a slim and taut body like her own and their breasts were about the same size. They were quite equally matched. It was not just the size of their bodies but also their height.
Chapter 6
Half an hour of jostling with their breasts left Urooj overwhelmingly aroused, and she decided that the exercises had to stop for the moment. She called lunch. It was not even 11:00 am.
Uri seemed to be surprised that Urooj wanted to disentangle their bodies instead of taking the exercises to their logical conclusion. But she agreed reluctantly, a slightly disappointed look on her face.
Urooj locked the clinic behind them, and they took the gravel drive to the diner. The weather was pleasant.
Uri snaked her arm through Urooj’s, but Urooj shyly broke away from her. Uri raised her eyebrows.
“Doesn’t Professor Burr mention that two women who have partnered to do the “Intimacy Exercises” must hold hands all the time”, said Uri sternly.
“Well, I don’t know. People might notice,” Urooj said shyly.
“Should we be breaking rules on the first day itself?”, Uri sounded annoyed.
“Well ….. er …..”, Urooj mumbled.
“Awww! You’re feeling shy. It’s OK. Let’s hold hands anyway,” said Uri and she interlocked fingers with Urooj.
Urooj’s grip was loose. But Uri’s was tight. They walked hand in hand to the diner.
Lucille, the jealous waitress looked at them with contempt when she saw them holding hands.
They ordered a couple of vanilla milkshakes and a cheese sandwich which they shared. Neither of them wanted to overeat as they had a post-lunch session of “Intimacy Exercises” planned.
Uri sat shoulder to shoulder with Urooj who was uncomfortable with such a public display of intimacy. But she was flattered that Uri had taken a liking for her. They gulped down the milkshakes and sandwich and walked back to the clinic, fingers interlocked once again.
Uri’s hands were soft and, on the way back, Urooj entwined fingers with her rather tightly.
Once inside the clinic, Urooj turned the AC on again.
“You ready?” she asked smiling.
“Yeah!”
“What do you want to do next?” Urooj was testing the waters.
“Well ….. I don’t know ….. you’re the doctor,” said Uri flirtatiously.
“Why don’t we try the bearhug breast to breast exercise and see if we like it?” asked Urooj.
“Sounds good,” said Uri excitedly.
“Do you want to do it against the wall?” asked Urooj.
“Sure,” said Uri and she walked to the wall and rested her body against it, looking at Urooj invitingly. Urooj slowly walked towards her, and they embraced shyly.
Urooj slowly wrapped both her hands around Uri’s neck while Uri aggressively pulled Urooj towards her by throwing her hands around her hips. Their upper bodies bunched up together. Urooj made up for her shyness during the walk by hugging Uri tightly.
Uri realized that Urooj was making amends for her earlier reluctance and the two women embraced hungrily.
Their chests and stomachs heaved against each other as they slowly rubbed their hands across each other’s backs, nursing each other’s bodies.
