Elly May Clampett gazed mournfully at the gray, drizzling sky as she pedalled her bicycle up and down the winding streets of Beverly Hills. "If'n I wanted to get rained on," she told it, "I'd a stayed back in Missoura. Least up in the mountains I could take off my clothes and get a nice shower bath. Then I could spend Saturday night listenin' to the Grand Ole Opry on the radio 'stead of scrubbin' in the tub."
But Granny had been baking, and had dictated that two strawberry-and-rhubarb pies be delivered to Miss Jane Hathaway, the nice lady from the bank, without delay. "That woman needs some meat put between her skin and bones," Granny had declared. "I used extra lard in these here pies. If Miss Jane gets outside of two or three of these every week, we'll have her nice and fattened up in time for Sadie Hawkins Day. Maybe she'll run herself down a man, for once."
And so Elly May had been tasked with delivering the two pies to Miss Jane's duplex apartment in Culver City. The rain finally stopped just before she got there, but it was too late. She was soaked to the skin, her blue jeans and flannel shirt plastered uncomfortably to her body. At least she'd thought to bring her rain bonnet, so her hair wasn't too badly off.
Standing on Miss Jane's front stoop, Elly May set down the basket with the pies, and systematically shook herself off... a trick she'd learned from her dogs. It didn't dry her off too well, but at least it got the clothes un-plastered from her arms and legs and made her feel less like a bandage-wrapped mummy from the picture show.
She rang Miss Jane's doorbell, but got no answer. No surprise there... it was Sunday, after all. A respectable woman like Miss Jane was probably off to church, or some ladies' charity meeting. Elly May hadn't pedalled all this way in the rain just to turn back with those pies still in tow, though. She worked her hand into her soaking-wet jeans pocket and fished out the key she found there.
Back when it had been given to her, Elly May had wondered why Miss Jane would give her, of all people, a spare key to her apartment.
"Well, I'll need someone to call to let me in if I ever lock myself out," Miss Jane had explained with a smile. "And it certainly wouldn't do to leave my key with some man, now would it?"
"No, ma'am," Elly May had agreed. "We girls have to look out for mashers. But aren't you afeared I'll come over and go through your things without leave? I hear tell people do that kind of thing here in Californy."
"Elly May, you are the most honest and trustworthy girl I know. Besides," she added with a smile and a wink, "there's nobody I'd be happier to find standing under my roof than you."
Elly May had beamed, and put the key away safe. What a nice lady that Miss Jane was.
She let herself into the apartment, set the basket down on the kitchen table, and called for Miss Jane. There was no answer, but Elly May could hear a loud, low rumbling sound coming from the door to the cellar. She wondered what it was. Then she remembered how Miss Jane had been talking proudly about the new clothes-washin' and clothes-dryin' machines she'd bought, to have right in the house with her. No more hauling dirty clothes down to the laundry-mat for Jane. Elly's pa had thought about getting machines like that for their own house, but Granny had been dead set against it. She'd heard tell those infernal machines were sock-eaters... they'd eat up people's socks, which would never be seen or heard from again. If they could eat socks, what else could they feed on? Elly May thought about her precious critters, most of them small enough to fit inside one of those machines, and agreed with Granny.
But Elly was mighty curious to get a look at these modern, up-to-date devices. She quietly opened the cellar door, and felt a burst of warm air coming from below. The lights were on down there. Maybe Miss Jane was busy doing her laundry? Elly May went down the stairs.
It was the dryin'-machine that was running... the one with the door in front instead of on top. And sitting on top of it, without a stitch of clothes on, was Miss Jane Hathaway.
She hadn't seen Elly May yet. Miss Jane sat very still, looking down at her lap with a look of deep concentration on her face. She had on her big round glasses, and that was all she had on. Her bare, skinny legs dangled down the front of the machine, and her toes alternately curled up tight and splayed out wide. As Elly May watched, Miss Jane shivered all over and broke out in goosebumps, despite the warmth of the room. She moaned softly, but loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the dryer.
"Miss Jane? Are you feelin' okay?"
Miss Jane yelped and startled so violently that her glasses flew right off her face. She instinctively made a wild grab to try to catch them, but only succeeded in batting them further away. Elly May snatched them out of mid-air before any harm was done, and handed them back to their owner.
"Oh! E-Elly May. I wasn't expecting... that is, I, uh..." Blushing furiously, Miss Jane put her glasses back on.
"I hope I'm not interruptin' your washin' up," Elly May said. "You told me I could come in anytime I wanted..."
"Um, yes! Yes, I do remember telling you that. Well, uh, Elly, I was just doing my laundry, and I didn't have any clean clothes, so I thought I'd just... strip off and get it all done at once, you know?" She let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh.
"Oh, I understand," Elly May said brightly. "I've done my washin' in the buff lots of times. Specially back home. Here in Californy, there's too many fellas with telescopes and binoculars, but back in the hills you can run around as nekkid as God made you, and nobody to see you for miles around 'cepting your own kinfolk, and the critters. And they don't care, right?"
"R-right, yes," Jane said with a tense smile. Though she wasn't so sure about the kinfolk...
Sweat ran in rivulets down Miss Jane's face, and her back, and her trembling belly. Her situation was becoming dire. The dryer was continuing to do what it did so very well, and she was quickly going from hot and bothered to hotter and more bothered. What could she do? She couldn't stand up without clearly revealing the present state of her genitalia. Even a lamb as innocent as Elly May Clampett would be able to put two and two together, given the sight of that much hot pink in one place.
She shuddered, bit her lip, and looked down at her lap nervously. The Jane Train barrelled toward its destination, with its smokestack steaming and its whistle blowing. Oddly enough, the sight of a beautiful, wide-eyed, soaking-wet blonde standing three feet in front of her and staring at her stark-naked body wasn't doing much to cool her engine. Could this situation possibly get any worse?
"Say," chirped Elly May. "I got caught in the rain comin' over here, and I'm soaked to the bone. You mind if I throw my clothes in with yours inside o' this dryin' machine?"
Jane's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, like that of a beached fish, as she tried to think of a way to stop Elly from what she was about to do. But that girl was quick. In the time it took to think about it she had kicked both her boots off, and pulled down her pants.
Oooooooh no no no, please please please, no no no, Jane mentally begged, as the most beautiful girl she'd ever met happily stripped naked in front of her. She reached around behind herself and fumbled clumsily for the dryer's "off" button, but she couldn't find it.
Elly May's firm young pink-tipped breasts bobbed and jiggled as she freed them from the constraint of her bra. That was the last thing Jane saw before she spun right down the drain, and the Fourth of July arrived two months early between her ears and her legs.
Elly May was just sliding her sodden underpants down the length of her rain-soaked thighs when she heard Miss Jane go "Aaaaaahhhh..... aaaaaaaaahhhh.... AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" just like a character in a cartoon show who was about to let loose with a great big sneeze. But she didn't sneeze. At least, not with her nose. Her face turned as red as the inside of Granny's strawberry-rhubarb pie, and screwed up with the look people get when they try real hard to lift something that's way too heavy for them. Her upper body lurched forward so she was practically bent double, lying on top of her own thighs, her nipples brushing her knees.
Elly May was alarmed. "Miss Jane? Are you okay? Are you feelin' sick?" She stepped over and grabbed hold of the older woman, lifting her head up to try and see if her eyes were rolled back.
Drowning in ecstasy, Jane grabbed Elly May by the back of her head with one hand, burying her fingers in soft golden curls. She kissed that sweet, lovely young girl, hard and deep.
It was five exquisite heartbeats before Elly squeaked and pushed away. Long enough for Jane's glasses to steam up thoroughly.
"Miss Jane," Elly said softly, "that's sinful."
Jane collected herself as best she could, still twitching and gasping amid the aftershocks of that incredible climax. "Erk... what? Oh, uh... yes, I... I quite agree. It's inappropriate and not the sort of thing... uh..." As her head slowly cleared, her mind started racing in sudden panic. She envisioned herself having to explain to Mr. Drysdale that she'd lost the Clampett account... and the reason why.
"Granny told me from the time I was a little girl," Elly said solemnly. "She said, Elly May, don't you never let nobody put their tongue in your mouth until they bought you dinner at least three times. And you have only bought me dinner twice. That time you took me to the Polo Lounge after we both lost that Queen of Beverly Hills contest... and then the time you took me and daddy and Jethro to Bob's Big Boy. You still gotta do it one more time."
Jane blinked. Could this day get any more surreal? Should she continue mentally asking herself questions like that?
"I...I've heard of a very nice new place on Riverside Drive in Burbank. Would you like to go there? Tonight? I hear they have the best Margarita north of the border..."
"That sounds swell!" Elly May smiled radiantly. "I've been wantin' to meet a real Mexican gal. All this time in Californy, and I've never made the acquaintance of one. Don't that beat all?"
"Why, yes," Jane stammered. "That does indeed beat all." She shifted in her seat, and winced at the wet, squishy feeling underneath her buns and legs. Her recent orgasm had been accompanied by a fairly impressive physical release.
"I think I'd better jump in the shower before we go," she told Elly. "By the time I'm finished your clothes should be dry, and we can be on our merry way."
"Hmm, a shower bath," Elly mused. "That sounds good. I'm kind of in a state myself. Mind if I get a shower, too? I could just share yours. I was brought up not to waste water."
Are you kidding me? Jane thought, wiping her hand across her sweaty forehead. I'm dead, aren't I? I died, and I've gone to Heaven to spend eternity with 72 virgin Elly Mays, just as the Arabs believe. I never thought Heaven would be quite this.... sapphic. I assumed that sort of thing was frowned upon...
"My... my shower enclosure is a bit small," Jane admitted. "It might be difficult to even turn around with both of us in there."
"That's okay. I can just lather you up, and you can lather me up. That's what friends are for!"
Jane choked on her own saliva. Yes, definitely dead and in Heaven.
"You okay?" Elly said, instantly concerned. "You're not gonna have another one of those fits like you had a few minutes ago, are you?"
"Almost certainly," Jane murmured. "I'm fine," she said out loud. "It's nothing to worry about at all."
"That's good. Say, I hope you don't mind if we use cold water for our shower? I like cold showers 'cause they remind me of home."
"I... think I'm up for it," Jane replied uncertainly. She glanced down at her nearly nonexistent breasts. At least she'd have something to blame her erect nipples on. She glanced over at Elly, whose own lovely rack waggled prettily as she bent over to shovel her clothes into the dryer.
The pretty blonde chirped with curiosity as she found the dog-eared paperback that had been sitting atop the dryer next to Jane.
"Hey, Miss Jane, whatcha readin'? There's no title on this book and the cover is just plain brown."
"Oh! That's... that's just... research... for work... there's no reason for you to... ha ha..." But Elly was already flipping through it, scanning the pages.
After a moment, she laughed out loud. "This is a funny book," she said. "There's this one lady, and she's lickin' this other lady's pussycat! Isn't that a crazy thing to do? Wouldn't you get fur between your teeth?"
"Not if you do it right," Jane said under her breath.
"Oh.... nothing." She laughed. "You read all kinds of strange things in books."
"You sure do. Imagine, lickin' a pussy. You'd get clawed right in the face."
Jane tried to keep her voice from trembling. "Stick with me, young lady, and I promise you won't be licked or clawed anywhere you don't want to be."
"I'm relyin' on you," Elly replied, and smiled like a naked sun goddess.
Miss Jane tried to keep the wobble out of her legs as she headed up the stairs for the shower.