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Girl Time

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Peggy is not drunk. Oh, the schnapps went down a treat, but surely she has a high enough tolerance for a glass or two. Everything has a sort of pleasant glow to it, though, especially Angie's leg, which is dangling off the edge of the bed, where Peggy is leaning comfortably.

She reaches up, absently, and traces the arch of Angie's foot; Angie had long since wriggled out of her stockings, calling them torture devices. (Peggy herself is still enjoying the novelty of having real stockings again -- but she digresses.)

"English!" Angie says, drawing her foot back up onto the bed. "That's a little familiar!"

"I do apologize," Peggy says.

"Well, you don't have to go that far." Angie's leg comes back into view. "Just warn a girl before you go -- caressing her."

"All right." Peggy sits up a little straighter. "I'm going to touch your foot again, and perhaps your calf as well. I haven't decided."

"There you go, that wasn't -- oh -- too difficult," Angie says, as Peggy trails her fingers over the intriguing curves of Angie's foot, and ankle, and, yes, her calf as well. Working on her feet all day has given Angie quite the musculature.

"And now I'm going to touch the back of your knee," Peggy continues, and does, exploring the soft skin with her fingertips.

"English," Angie says. "Is this what you got up to at boarding school?"

"I was a day pupil," Peggy informs her. "But -- yes."

"And they say American girls are fast," Angie says. "Here, I thought you didn't like me much."

"I like you," Peggy says. "Perhaps too much."

"I don't think so." Angie moves so that her legs are to either side of Peggy. "I think you should show me how much you like me."

That is an invitation if Peggy's ever heard one, and she's heard a few. "I believe I shall," she says, and rucks up Angie's uniform skirt. She apparently relieved herself of her knickers at the same time as her stockings, because there's nothing to impede Peggy's progress between her thighs.

Peggy doesn't draw it out any further, just slips a finger in where Angie is slick and wet, and follows it with another, then her tongue. Angie muffles a cry in her hands, and opens her thighs wider. Peggy's missed this -- it's been years since she's been this close to another woman -- but apparently she hasn't lost the knack. Angie climaxes with Peggy's tongue inside her, then again, and Peggy is very pleased with herself.

"Get up here, English," Angie demands, and Peggy climbs onto the narrow bed with her for a kiss. "I think it's time for a little cultural exchange."

Peggy likes that idea quite a bit.