She's a little cold

It was only a minute or two in, but Dale and his brutishness were already a waning memory. With all her loyal, scantily dressed, righteous friends at her side, it felt like refuge, like there was hope for the world after all. If only he could see them now, Grace thought.

"If only he could see us right now. If he did, he would see that everything he said about us was wrong," she sighed quietly to herself. "That there is still a place for good company, for fellowship without immorality." She looked up at the ceiling vent, currents of air blowing through it. "Please, help him find his way. If he couldn't accept my invitation," she recalled the half-hearted laughter he gave her when she had first agreed to go on a date with him, in exchange for his acceptance to go to church with her, "maybe he'll accept yours." Releasing her eyes, she shook her head, deciding it wasn't worth dwelling on the likes of him or the past, and took out her Bible and placed it on the table, opening it to Genesis.

A couple more minutes had passed, and Grace was settling back in. Or at least trying to. It was as they were going over the relevance of the commandments in contemporary society, however, that Grace shivered for the fifth time in the past quarter, finding yet another angle to sit at upon the chair with her bare two quads, and Savannah finally took notice.

"What's wrong, Grace?" She whispered in soft concern.

Grace shook her head. Her friend gave her a reassuring nudge. When Grace looked her way, she was leaning towards her, and before she could stop herself, she found herself gulping a dollop of air down her throat. From that position, Grace could see a very generous amount of sideboob from her friend's deep V-neck. Savannah donned it with the usual gusto -- and with plenty of creamy, tight body to expose -- as expected of her. At least, if you were in this specific group, conducting this specific weekly Bible study. She of course dressed like a normal, prudent young woman everywhere else; it would be mortifying to go out dressed so whore-ish without the unquestionable justification of something such as a Bible study group. Although Savannah would never flaunt her body for any reason, anyway.

"Come on," the redhead continued, "you've been looking out of sorts for the past 15 minutes. You can tell me."

Grace just smiled in a casual attempt at playing it off, and crossed one bare leg over the other. "I-it's nothing..." Another prickle of goosebumps raised across her own creamy, nubile skin. Skin that before had never been so shamelessly exposed and fully uncovered in public view in her undies, barring the occasional pool party -- in which even then she tended to wear sufficient one-piece swimsuits.

....wait a second. That wasn't right.

She had dressed in exposing attire numerous times before -- more than she cared to count -- and they were all in the Bible studies before this one. So she was far from being wet behind the ears about this kind of stuff. It really wasn't anything new to worry about or anything.

Meanwhile, raising a brow at the spawn of bumps, Savannah caught her bluff. The half-naked blonde looked away meekly, rubbing her forearms together. "Well," she finally trickled out, "it's... they... they seem to have the AC on really low today."

In between exchanges, and past the casual words of Harris and the others in the background, came the audible purr of the cooling breeze through the vents. Once they looked back down, Savannah nodded.

"You're right." She relayed, "I heard they got a new system installed a week ago. They've kept it cooler for the recent heat wave, too, so..." Suddenly, with an interesting look on her face, Savannah smiled and rested a warm hand on Grace's knee, and for some reason a slight tingle went through Grace's spine as she did. She looked back at her friend, who for a brief second bit her lip. But Grace never even made it to her face to see it. Instead, her eyes fixated themselves back onto the young, smart redhead's barely covered breasts. Two ample little orbs on the edge of full, visual disclosure, under tight black nylon without any hint of a brassiere to obstruct it any further from the naked eye. Mere feet, inches, centimeters away from a quick rub here, unassuming grab there. Perkily, enticingly, mysteriously pushing against the strip of fabric that hugged it and cruelly, unfairly supplying only a visible sliver of flesh to peek at and...er, admire.

Grace closed her eyes, thinking to herself.

How easy it would be to just reach over, tug the neckline to the side, and promptly grab a nice handful of tit. It would be so soft, and so round, Grace bet. Kind of like hers, if her breasts were about two sizes smaller.

Grace didn't realize how tightly her legs were packed against each other when Savannah caught her attention.

"...hello, Grace?" Savannah was waving her hand in front of her friend's face. Once Grace blurted out a curt apology and scratched her cheek, Savannah smiled again, and brought the hand from earlier back down. Except this time, instead of landing on her knee, it landed on soft, firm thigh -- that of underwear-clad little Grace's shapely, smooth pair. Savannah didn't seem bothered enough to move it, casually flipping a strand of hair over her ear. She even stroked it slightly as she asked again, in a gentle tone, "Is that what's bothering you, Gracey? The AC?"

Finding the air back in her throat, Grace cleared it and shook away a shade of red from her cheeks, looking down at the carpet. "It's... just a little cold in here." She wrapped herself in her arms, finally admitting the minor inconvenience.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, however, a microbial shift occurred in the air. No one in the room appeared to notice -- not even Grace, who instead relaxed in her chair, loosening her muscles.

Savannah, meanwhile, patted her thigh affectionately one last time. Then the skimpily dressed young woman pulled away, pushing herself up on her chair. Grace felt a pang at the withdrawal and darted her eyes to her friend. Normally, she wasn't much comfortable about letting a woman, or anyone for that matter, touch her there like that, nor had she ever remembered Savannah to do so in the past -- not recently, not ever.

But this time was different. This time it almost felt... unsurprising. Foreseen. Natural. And it was natural. For young 20-something kids who still had the future ahead of them and plenty of time -- time to mingle with each other, enjoy each other, study... each other -- how could you blame a little boundary-treading here and there? You couldn't. Some things were just how they were, after all.

Still watching her friend, Grace's focus was slightly distracted as she followed Savannah's hand to the neckline of her dress, which she proceeded to flap up and down.

flap, it went. Flap, over her left, tender breast. Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

A mild shudder went through Grace. Breathing in, she quickly re-calibrated herself, and returned to heeding the Bible study.

This... this... what was she thinking? This was no time to be distracted. And that was no distraction to be progressively, frothily obsessed over! They were just breasts! Her friend, Savannah, just had great, squishable, pretty breasts!

That was the end of it!

Cute, watchable, bountiful breasts!

Nothing more!

As she concentrated back on the main course, a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. Across from her, so too did one travel down Savannah's. The redhead stretched out her neck, her skin looking moist under the afternoon sunlight through the window. Her hand continued to air out her torso ever slightly.

"Man," she piped, interrupting Harris mid-sentence, who had been talking at a snail's pace for a couple verses straight now. Over the past couple minutes, his sentences had slipped up and stumbled over every other word with uncharacteristic ineptitude, at the mercy of what seemed to be a casually multi-tasking mind. At the moment, he was staring straight ahead, right in what seemed to be Grace's direction. His eyes were cast slightly downward, his hand absently pressed against his tight abdomen, slightly glistening with sweat. At Savannah's interjection, he tore his gaze away and looked up.

"What? What is it?" A flustered brow creased his forehead while he carefully adjusted the waist of his shorts. He looked to Savannah. "Something you wanted to say about the, er..." He looked at the whiteboard to check the current sub-topic they were going over, then turned back. "...about the 7th commandment, Savannah?"

The dress-flapping redhead's eyes glimmered a little before traveling up the shirtless man's torso to his face. "Oh, not particularly," she continued to flap the dress out, pulling it a little further to the point you could nearly see her nipple. Nearly. "It's just.. so hot in here."

The young man a couple chairs next to her grunted his assent.

"Yeah," Ted nodded, "it's burning." As he spoke he was flapping his own unbuttoned shirt across his clear-as-day upper body. He averted his gaze from Grace once she looked his way. The blonde blinked. Was he... checking her out?

"Seriously," Belle sighed, pulling her rich, shoulder-length dark brown hair over her head like she was preparing to tie it. To Grace's surprise, she too quickly darted her eyes away from her line of sight when it crossed paths with hers. The dazzling brunette bit her cheek inconspicuously, an unreadable look on her face as she steadied her stare on the trash can in the corner for who knew what.

"Well," chuckled a nervous Harris, "it's too bad we can't just take everything off, am I right?" As he spoke, he had his body pressed up against the table, his waist lined up with the wooden ledge as the rest of his shorts remained below the horizon. It almost looked like he was pushing on it, for whatever reason.

In spite of the weird air that seemed to linger over the room, Grace still had her sturdy virtues and acknowledgement of basic etiquette intact. They may have been permitted to dress skimpily for the Bible studies, but that gave them no excuse to go naked -- even if they nearly were, like her. It was exponentially different, and would be wrong.

"Yes," Grace followed, with the firm, delicate eyes she never failed to muster, even as sweat accrued across the swell of her bra-covered breasts, "even with our skin-showing rules, that is not allowed here... and it wouldn't feel much better, anyway."

Another shift nestled itself into the air as the rest of the group turned and looked at each other curiously.