Heather & Heather

The ample door closes behind you with a loud crash, the rumble of which echoes between the large walls of the still empty church. Your eyes wander fainly among the light wooden benches, arranged on two columns, both of them crossing the long hall to the feet of the choir; then, you lift them up to the beamed ceiling, variably illuminated by the side cones of light of the windows, who reveal dust worms hovering peacefully.

The building, you remember, was erected for civil purposes, therefore once converted it resulted in a rather simple church, whose only decorations are some side blades attached to the white walls; even the altar is just a table with a parallelepiped block behind it to hold the tabernacle. In short, this large room is nothing compared to the opulent buildings that you studied in school, far from them.

But you love this place, or maybe you should say that this is why you love this place. This is, in a sense, your second home. You practically grew up here; and you like to consider its simplicity as the mirror of the simplicity of a honest faith, without the need for earthly enrichments. This is why you find it absolutely beautiful.

From a door on the side of the altar comes an elderly man who recognizes you immediately, as evidenced by his smug smile, despite his weakening vision.

-Ah, good morning Heather, my dear! In advance, as always!-.

-Hello Father Stone!- You reciprocate. Thomas Stone descends into the aisle, stopping in front of you. You can feel his concentrated look on you, but that does not cause you the slightest discomfort.

-You get more beautiful every time we meet, my child. And you are always so helpful! Ah, I just don't know what we'd do without you.-.

-Please, you are too kind.- You blush, a somewhat tingling sensation spreading on your skin. After all, he's more like an uncle to you, and as long as you can remember he had only sweet words for you.

"That is, for Heather.".

If you darken for a moment, his attention is yet distracted by the front door opening again. You turn around too, your cordial smile forming spontaneously even before descrying the young girl who has just arrived. Long, slightly wavy brown hair that falls over the shoulders, a reserved expression on her face, and a conservative attire, namely a sober gown and a wool cardigan, compared to which even you might appear to be a dissolute sinner and which conceal any curve she may sport. Though, given the great similarities between you two, you're often exchanged for sisters by new devotees, and it actually causes a mix of pleasant and unpleasant sensations in you.

-Oh, Annabelle, here you are. Welcome.-.

-Good morning, Father. Good morning, Heather.-.

-Hello Annabelle.-.

As usual, you cannot discern if the coldness with which she addressed you is due to simple discretion or, Heaven forbid, some antipathy towards you. You reasoned about it many times, searching for some event in your past that may have caused her aversion. If this was the case, it certainly must be due to your wrong, but you've never been able to figure it out.

Therefore, you always regretted that, despite the time you spent together, you never managed to bond, since you always found her distant, **** to open up with you, especially considering that, unfortunately, you remained among the very few to continue to frequent the parish environment.

-Well girls, see you soon.-.

-Yes, Father.-.

As per routine, each takes a column of benches and places on them the Parish Sheet three by three. For your own carelessness, however, you finish faster than Annabelle, finding yourself still with some papers in your hand while some of her benches are free. You instinctively decide to help her, but not having noticed that when you reach each other she almost collides with you, making you back off in the middle of the corridor while she looks at you surprised and confused.

Oh, no. Did your gesture offend her? Maybe she's thinking you wanted to brag to her?

Now that you're so close, however, you can distinguish a sweet aroma pervading the air around her. Roses.

-Uhm, sorry, I- She freezes, then she turns to the altar and makes the sign of the cross. You immediately mimic her - how could you forget? Even a moment before, when you moved!

-...didn't see you.-.

A faint blush colors her cheeks, and you notice that she has put her hands on her belly. There is a white polish on her nails. You feel some kind of wheezing as you find yourself unable to stop looking at her, thinking about how much a cute and respectable girl she is.

-N-No problem.- You reassure her, though she begins to furrow at your constant staring.

"Of course she is! Oh my, I've been so unpleasant!".

-...nice dress, by the way.- She comments, examinating at you from head to toe. You immediately fear that it was a polite way to point out something deeply wrong in your fashion selection. You look down at yourself, finding that she is, indeed, right. You know that the old Heather would have never worn the dress that is softly wrapping your skin, being one centimeter shorter than the ones she was used to, and its neckline let even display, much to your dismay when you brought it home, the corner of your clavicle! How couldn't you notice it this morning before going out? And... oh no, are your dowels the stripe of skin leaking down? You're showing your dowels??

-I, I... it's borrowed... s-shall we go in front of the door?- You ask, anxious to shift the subject. Believers will arrive soon, and you have to greet them, in the hope that they won't notice the obscene dress you're wearing. You find yourself unable to say anything, thus you simply place in front of her, wishing that the embarrassment will fade away somehow.

No. You have to stop thinking about yourself. You're here for the others, right now, and you can't let your indecency ruin their day.

People start to arrive, and you greet them with a cordial smile and by offering the remaining papers. In no time, your mind has momentarily forgotten all her worries. You receive a lot of kindnesses and compliments, but the ones that make you blush the most are the ones aimed at both ("What two lovely young ladies, so diligent and cute!"), and the same seems to apply to Annabelle.

When the ceremony begins, you move to your usual spot, that is a corner near the choir, facing the rest of the followers while listening to the Mass. But that's where your anxiety strikes back.

"I've ruined everything, I've ruined everything!" You find yourself thinking, not even sure what is this "everything"; however, the worst part is that you're not even paying attention!

No, no, you have to do something, and Annabelle is right next to you. You wonder if perhaps she shares part of your apprehension; but her expression, of an alexithymic discretion and almost sad, does not let anything leak out. Part of you almost envies her (God may forbid such a thought) for her perennial composure that suits her beauty consisting of sweet and soft features, like a Hellenic statue; but, right now, it's like a blade in your heart.

With the breath trembling in your throat, you eventually take courage.

-I'm sorry for before.- You whisper. She has some kind of jolt and turns to you with a shocked air, that almost makes you tremble in awe.

-...yeah. Don't worry.- She then resumes her position.

You made things worse.

How could you have been so stupid?? You talked during the celebration, you have distracted her in a moment like this what were you thinking???

The speaker's words become a distinct chant as you try hard to keep a relaxed face, fearing you are about to burst into tears in front of everyone. They don't deserve your inadequacy, and maybe this is the only reason you manage to do it somehow.

"What am I doing? This... this is not what Heather would do! I can't ruin her reputation like this, I...".

Someone pulls your sleeve. It's Annabelle, and she's moving - why? To collect offers, of course! You weren't paying attention, again! And as you walk among the benches you can feel it, you can see on their quick glances, that they know, that they've noticed too, they see you as the imposter, as the deep hypocrite you are.

For the rest of the ceremony, you feel dirty, guilty, you feel a heavy sin burdening upon your heart. You barely realize that time has flown, until you find your hand being lovely shaken. There is an old lady who smiles at you, and behind her a group of people with the same serene expression. You recognize them, not by their names, but you realise that you see them each Sunday: here is the bald man always sitting in the first row, then the black woman which stays near the front door, and behind them the lovely family with two kids, and so many others.

"W-What?".

-You always work so hard for us! I wish I had a granddaughter like you two!- Says the lady in a sweet voice. You immediately think of your grandparents, not yours, but Heather's, who died when she was little. You miss them, but somehow you feel like you're staring at them right now. And then comes the bald man, the black woman, the lovely family, and everyone else.

-Thank you, you are very kind.- Annabelle thanks them with spontaneous cordiality, while you are practically dazed as they keep touching you, mumbling some confused: "yes", "no, you don't need to be, it's really a pleasure".

Why... why are they this kind to you? Are you deceiving them so much? It's like your heart is swelling inside your chest, it's like it's about to explode, and you simply can't stay here anymore. When all of them are gone, you basically flee the place, exiting the church with a quick Cross sign, and your swift marching stands for a run. You should help to tidy up, you know it, but it hurts so much.

As the sunrays shine on your eyes, everything fades into white.

---

You slowly reopen your eyelids. You feel tired, or to better say it, you feel exhausted, like after a long effort; but you feel refreshed too, and instead of aching soreness there is a pleasant sensation is tingling under your skin.

Contrary to a moment ago, you feel undoubtedly happy.

The first thing you discern is Tina's smiling face right in front of yours, and then the sense of touch is added to the sight, since your cheek is pressed against something fluffy and soft, while your naked body is enveloped in thin tissue.

-Good afternoon, sleepyhead.~- She teases you with her light voice. If honey could be a sound, you think, it would be this one.

-Tina...- You groan, while memories slowly flow back in your mind. You weren't dreaming; that is, you were, but it was a memory of this morning. After that, you met Tina in your room, since your parents are away, and then you...

BLUSH

-You're so cute while you're sleeping, Heather.-.

She's resting her head on the pillow next to yours, looking at you like in some sort of contemplation, her blonde locks falling disheveled on her face, and from which her blue eyes glitter like iced stars, tired like yours but animated by a perennial vivacity. Her lucid lips hatch like two gummy candies squeezed together.

-H-Have you stared at me the whole time?- You babble.

-Of course. I'd stare at you forever, if I could.-.

You quiver at those words, and at her tone, gentle and calm, that immediately revives the fires inside of you, as desire revives with her piercing eyes; but so does the discomfort you've dreamed about, and which remained even when you woke up. She's serene, now, she's here just to spend a great time with you. You shouldn't bother her with your problems.

-We should get up now.- You say, but as you try to turn around Tina's delicate yet determined grip on your wrist makes you freeze, draining you of all your strength.

It's unfair.

It's always a losing fight, against her touch.

-Why?- She purrs plaintively: -Nobody is coming, you know it. I want to nuzzle you a bit. And then... mmm... I want to feel my hands caressing your tights... I want to kiss that subtle neck of yours... I want to sniff your beautiful hair with my nostrils...-.

-I just want this to be forever for a little longer...-.

-You are the most beautiful thing I know...-.

Your breath becomes heavy in your chest. Your body is tensing so much that, you could swear you have a fever.

-...Don't say certain things so lightly, Tina.- Your voice is a tremble plead.

-Buuuuut I mean it... You always say lying is bad, right? It's not my fault if I'd die happy if you were the last thing I looked at.-.

You gasp, exclaiming her name. She finally frowns, right when your sight starts to blurry and tears begin to pour down your cheeks.

-Hey, what's up?- She asks alarmed.

-I, I, you...- You don't know, you don't understand, it's just too much to bear.

-Shh... come here.- She puts her arm around your head and hugs you tightly, her nude body wraps around yours, and her heat radiates through your skin. You're sobbing, now, and she is telling you that everything is alright.

How can she be so sure, if she doesn't even know what's going on? And... and why do you feel that you can believe her?

-Heather, you know that you can tell me everything.- She says after having retreat: -What happened?-.

-N-Nothing, this morning was just a bit hard.-.

-How? Don't you like going to church?-.

-Yes, it's just... I don't know. Maybe... maybe I'm not the good person I think I am.-.

-What? You?- An disbelieving snort escapes her, but it fades in the face of your concrete discomfort.

-Heather, look at me. You're the kindest, the sweetest person that I know. Not even being possessed by my perv big brother has changed that, and trust me, people usually change a lot. When I look at you... even now, damn, it's hard to hold back. I so want to jump on you, to make you mine forever... because you're amazing. You're simply amazing.-.

...

-But I guess you can't see that, huh?- She adds at your glooming expression. Then, a sly smirk curls her lips.

-Maybe I have a little something that can cheer you up.-.

You peep up in a strike of stupor and anxiety, but you receive only a confirmation of your suspicion. You feel your cheeks getting warmer, and your voice stammers out: -D-Did you make another one?-.

-Yup. But...- She gets alluringly closer, until your noses almost brush: -...if you're not in the mood, I guess I can watch it by myself.-.

She rolls around in a brusque gesture, taking the cell phone from the bedside table; you can't see what she's actually doing in that position, but you soon discern the unequivocal audio of a video and a voice that, above anything else, gives you immediate goosebumps.

-Wait!-.

The audio stops. Tina stretches the corner of her eye towards you.

-I want to... see it... please...-.

With a snap twitch, she presses her hip to yours, squeezing your head between hers and her shoulder, and parading the phone in front of you. You have no time to elaborate on the sudden and intimate physical contact that the video is resuming.

You weren't wrong a moment ago.

It's you, Heather, on the screen. Only that "you" were wearing an arrangement of clothes which you would never dream of even touching: a tight, black dress ending in a miniskirt, and its large boat neck was shamelessly revealing the dark strap of her bra; on her legs, form-fitting socks, black in color down from the knee and transparent on the thigh; finally, a thin gold necklace with several drop-like jewels was adorning her collarbone.

And, sitting next to you, there was a cute guy that you have never seen before: the worst detail was the high level of intimacy you were sharing, with your hands intertwined and your noses rubbing on each other's, your sensual grin being one centimeter distant by his thirsty lips. And that look in your eyes!

Holy Blessed Mary!

You were being so bold, s-so indecent! And with... with a man!

-You have a pretty nice room.- Whispers the boy, without looking away from the supposed you.

-Thanks!- 'You' vapidly chuckle: -And you have a pretty nice... mmm...- 'you' don't end the sentence, but the way "your" hands are roaming under his orange t-shirt is a thousand times more explanatory than any word.

Your mouth drop opens, as that deplorable and God-despising scene continues to develop before your incredulous eyes.

That girl can't be you.

It's impossible.

It's simply impossible.

Not-you in an abrupt move lays down on the definitely-not-yours bed, dragging him with her. On her, that is.

-Why don't we spice up things a little, big boy?- She seductively suggests. He's more than enthralled by such a perspective.

-You know, at first I didn't take you as this kind of girl, Ashley.- He replies, calling "you" by a name and with an intensity that... that is all wrong, that can't be true. "Ashley" levers on her elbows, looking at him with a wicked glow in her eyes, and with a finger slowly traces a soft line along his shoulder, getting closer and closer to his mouth.

-Well, Brad, usually I'm not. But for tonight... I want to be your personal, little, dirty...-.

Lunge.

-Slut~-.

"S-S-Slut???" You have an heart stroke: "She said t-that word w-w-with my voice??? I would never...!!! I wouldn't...!!! Now he will think I am...!!!".

You turn at Tina, if not in panic into something that undoubtedly resembles it. But your friend is transfixed on the phone screen, her smirk widening at each second that passes, like someone watching a movie and waiting for the best part which, they know, is about to arrive. Head shaking, you go back to watching the video.

Clothes are flying around, as your doppelganger remains in her socks and in her dark, immodest lingerie. Brad, instead, has only discarded his shirt.

"What is he doing? Why is he getting close to... Oh my-Oh my God! Oh my God he's going to lick...!!!".

-Aww...-.

A sinful, lewd wail has warped your voice. Ashley looks down and spreads her legs into an M-like shape, welcoming Brad's eager tongue in the between.

-Mmm, oh you're so good Bradley-boy! Mmm, oww, yes like this!-.

Ashley continues to destroy your reputation, moaning loudly just like a, a depraved woman. What is worst, you can feel your own nether regions twitching in a horrible, unavoidable somatization. Soon, her groans climax into a loud exhalation and her body trembles shaken by a preliminary, yet breathtaking, coitus.

-YESSSS!!!-.

She has orgasmed.

Just like this.

For a man's tongue.

Looking like you.

Oh God.

-Now, let me return the favor~-.

Ashley takes off her bra, revealing a modest bosom exactly like yours. Then, he discards his belt.

His jeans.

His boxers.

He's naked.

Like, like, real naked.

She makes him sit on the mattress, she positions herself on the side of his spread leg and stares with a strayed, devilish look at the imponent, erected gimmick surmounting a swollen sack of skin.

You would like to tell her to stop. You would like to beg her. To implore her. But she opens her mouth and engulfs that unnameable organ.

You cover your mouth with your hand, then you lower it in disgust, it was in there, but it wasn't, but it was, you can feel it, and you'd like to throw up but you can't stop watching. And a known, pleasurable warmness is spreading between your legs.

CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP

-Ohh... oh fuck...-.

The way she bobbles her head up and down, how she skillfully uses her hand to accompany the motion, how her hair, fallen on one side, is rhythmically bouncing, it can't be you, this Ashley girl can't, can't be you, and you know that she's not you, that at that time you were surely somewhere else far from even thinking to something like this. But Brad doesn't know that. This is what you will be to him forever, an, an easy girl, a s-skank.

-Ohh yes, suck it Ashley...-.

The oral intercourse proceeds for some minute, the motion is so regular that is almost hypnotic. Then she pipes up and slowly crawls against his torso. Brad lies down, a foreseeing smirk on his face. Ashley bites her lip and positions herself right above his pelvis.

"Oh no.".

"No no no!!!".

"Don't do it, don't-".

Ashley lowers down in a single gesture, and a grimace of pure pleasure crosses their faces.

She had just taken it.

Your virginity.

She had just... just let herself be impaled with your, with your pussy, on his, his, HIS PENIS!!!

-Fuck, it feels so good!!!- Ashley rejoices, her mouth producing a muffled laugh. She starts to move up and down, making the mattress springs creak under her thrusts. Having lost all the restraints, she vocalizes the increasing entity of the pleasure she's bearing with misbecoming moans and by spelling out epithets and exclamations whose the mere hearing is worth a penitent confession.

And you, in that recording, are screaming them.

-Oww! Oww fuck, fuck me! Tell me that you like it!-.

-Yes, yes I do! You're a tight sexy slut!!!-.

Your mind is crashing.

"W-What are they doing??? They can't do it!!! They're not even dating, they can't... w-what's this... ohhh...".

You gasp, caught off guard by such an ecstatic sensation lovely pulsating inside your mount of Venus. But that steady rubbing... how could you not notice it before?

-TTTTina-ahh...~~~-.

You look pleadingly at your bestie, whose eyes are now burning with an intense glow that borders on delirium. Her fingers are ravaging the interior of your labias with a speed and strength that are making your pupils roll up in their sockets. Talking coherently is a tough effort.

-PPPleeeeease!!!~~~-.

-You're so naughty, Ashley!- She taunts you, a canine biting the corner of her lips.

-I thought you didn't like cocks!-.

-I-I-that's not-I...!!!~~~-.

-But isn't that a big, thick penis the one inside your tight pussy? Oh, and you're fucking it so good! Believe me, you were fitting it so well! It felt so perfect! Don't you agree, my dear Ashley?-.

-I'mmmm nnnnot-ppp-ahhhhh!!!~~~-.

You lost control of your jaw which, opened wide, lets out a series of shameful, disgraceful cries that mingle with the one coming from the video, which is still supported by Tina's free hand. Struggling to watch it, you see that "Ashley" and Brad have changed position, and now he's pounding her from behind while she is making opprobrious faces, gravely inappropriate for a God-fearing girl.

-T-Tell me how beautiful I am! Tell me what you love about me, Brad!- Ashley vainly whines, her voice made into a squeak that nevertheless emerges from the creaking springs of the bed.

-You're hot!- Brad declares, his mouth buried behind your neck: -You're fucking hot, and I love-I love having, mmm, your fragrant hair on my face, I love that you're smooth and, and warm, I love that you're so tiny and frail and a fucking pervert!-.

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest. He can't say those things like, like this! Why would you ever ask to, no, you would never!

-What about my titties, mh?- Ashley is pressing him, hissing each word like she's spitting poison, but you can see a devious grin twisting her face: -Do I have beautiful titties? And my ass? Do I have a ffffat ass, mh???-.

-Fucking yes, you have you slut!-.

"My tits? M-My ass? No, no, why can't I stop this??? I shouldn't approve that, I should, I should... this is not possible!!!".

You should just tell Tina to stop. That would be enough. She would listen to you, this is the deal: you'd just have to say one word, one simply "no more", and this madness would end.

But you don't want it.

You know that it's terrible, and you yourself are incredulous of the perdition that not only resides in your soul, but to which you are also surrendering. But there's this... thing, inside of you, that is loving it.

You are loving it. Every moment. Every sin.

-Yes, yes!!! Pop my fucking cherry!!!-.

Ashley is now accepting Brad's dick with one leg raised in the air and the rest of her body lying on its side, with the boy's hand playing with her clit from behind. Her expression is of pure pleasure, free from any other emotion or sensation.

You're so sexy.

You can't believe you just thought that.

"Oh my Lord! Is... Is this who I truly am?".

After all, this is entirely your idea. When you casually saw on Tina's phone a video of you masturbating in her bedroom, a video that you clearly haven't recorded at all, rather than being embarrassed, or angry, or disappointed... well, maybe part of you was all of those things, but what Tina saw in you when you faced her, no, it was something entirely different, something that even you didn't acknowledge at that moment. And so, the time after that, instead of just peeping at it, you've watched it together. And the time after that she started to roleplay as you, and then more, and soon she wasn't alone anymore in the tapes.

Because you wanted it.

And likewise, this morning, when you met Annabelle, when you secretly lingered on her forms while preparing the benches and during the Mass, when you were unable to speak to her, what you felt, what you refused to recognize, it was that. It was lust.

That was the thing. The worst, and the sweetest, of the Sins.

Lust.

Oh God.

-Mmmahh!!! Yesssss!!!~~~.

"...Is it all a masquerade?".

"The church, t-the kindness to those people, my f-faith... since I've become Heather...".

'Trust me, people usually change a lot.', Tina said to you before.

"Am I just... pretending to be a good girl... a preppy, religious girl... just because it turns me on?".

-I'm almost there!- Brad is screaming. Ashley's face is already disfigured by the climax.

-Then do it! Cum inside of me! I want to be your breeding bitch!!!-.

In your head, lashes of memories and random words whirl in a chaotic tornado, and there is you, the old, conservative you, then there's Tina, Tom, Kim, Mom, Annabelle, Ashley, and where are you, who are you, who are you???

Then, comes her voice, sweet like the sweetest honey.

-You're amazing, you're simply amazing.-.

-I love you.-.

You curl your toes, squeeze your fingers, and throw open your mouth. Your back arches and squirts of sticky fluids drench Tina's digits.

-AAAAHHHH!!!-.

They've cummed too, the video keeps going, but you're not paying attention to it anymore. At a certain point, even Tina discards it, a smug smirk plastered onto her lips.

-Wow... that was... Heather?- She lifts her head, looking at you confused.

-Look, I even made you cry! ...wait, are you ok?-.

You turn your head towards her.

-I sensed it.- You murmur.

-Sensed... it?-.

-The answer. The truth. I... I can still feel it on my skin.- Chuckle: -Gosh, I must sound like a lunatic.-.

But how else can you express it? It's like for a moment, for just a moment, you've felt a touch in your heart, as when in a moment of pure despair you suddenly recall the lullaby your mother used to sing while cradling you in her arms. Now that moment has passed, but you can still feel it, it's not really gone away.

Tina said that she wished that you could see what she already was seeing. You did, even just for that moment, this is what you simply would like to say. But you're already worrying your beloved one enough.

-Thank you, Tina. You are the best friend I could ever want.- You hug her warmly, your naked bodies gently swaying at the pace of your cuddling.

-Well, duh, I am, right? Ahah!- She nervously titters.

Then, after you've broken the embrace: -I wasn't expecting exactly this reaction, but glad to see that you're smiling again.-.

You giggle. It's nice to see her happy too. Though, her basic happiness is soon substituted by her sly grin.

-...actually, there is another video waiting for us. So, would you like?-.

You blush slightly, and then you nod.

-Great! Believe me, this one will send you over the edge!- You resume positions, and you're frankly curious about her overstressed enthusiasm.

You frown at the setting: it's clearly a bedroom, but the way it's decorated has something... how to say it, strange? Exotic?

And what's in that poster? A crescent moon? Weird...

Then, a guy with a long beard enters the visual.

-Ok, 'jamila', let's do this.- He says, clearly horny, in a strange accent: -What's your name again?-.

Realization begins to emerge from the bottom of your mind.

"Wait a second...".

A woman appears; she's all dressed in an Arabic fashion, with a hijab circling around her head and revealing only her face.

"Wait a second!!!".

Giggle: ~I'm Aisha, babe. And I really want to taste some halal semen tonight.~.

Colors abandon your visage, your jaw drops to the floor and your eyes goggle. You look bewildered at Tina, who is uselessly trying to contain her laughs.

-T...-.

-T...-.

-TINA!!!-.