lesbian lovers

Harmony and Melody were lesbian lovers.



Their real names weren’t Harmony and Melody, but Gretchen Smart and Cynthia Howard. However, Harmony and Melody were a duet, and, as such, they thought, as did their agent, Mindy Swanson, that the duo needed stage names with more pizzazz. Like their same-sex orientation, their stage names added appeal to their cute faces and curvy figures. The fact that they actually could sing was almost an afterthought to their success as singers.



Like Madonna, they knew how to reinvent themselves and how to reinvigorate their career. When a new idol had threatened to steal their thunder, they’d intimated, through their publicist, Betty Walters, that they were on the brink of a breakup. The tabloids ran countless articles, accompanied by photographs, many of which had been doctored, showing the “lesbian lyricists” on the verge of “splitting up,” their authors citing “irreconcilable differences” between “pop music’s most cuddlesome crooners.” Within a month, the new idol was forgotten, her rising star now fallen.



Likewise, when the Peppermints, a skyrocketing all-girl group, endangered the female faggots’ popularity, Harmony and Melody responded by releasing “Harmony and Melody,” which sold in the millions, eclipsing the Peppermints’ meteoric rise. The song was semi-autobiographical, its lyrics telling of how they’d met, developed mutual crushes upon each other, engaged in first-time lesbian sex with one another, and become lovers with no further use for men as sex partners. Their fans, who were numerous, especially among lesbians, knew the words to the song by heart, having played it incessantly.



The same-sex singers’ greatest threat, however, was posed by the so-called Princess of Pop, a black bitch by the name of Panther. She brought a level of lewdness to her performances that was mesmerizing. Just short of “indecent,” her pelvic thrusts and gyrations left her audiences, female as well as male members among them, aroused and clamoring for more. Her every performance was met with cries of “Encore!” and “More!” As Panther’s career became a true overnight sensation, that of Harmony and Melody’s took a corresponding nosedive. Trade journals, no less than tabloids, wondered whether the “once-popular pop tarts’ career was finally hurtling toward oblivion.”



The duo’s first impulse had been to fight fire with fire, and they began to include steamy, suggestive pantomimes of lesbian sexual activities into their performances. While they sang of their undying love, they kissed, caressed, and bumped their hips or ground their buttocks against one another. At first, this tactic seemed to work. Their ticket sales and CD sales both climbed. Panther’s, however, never flagged, and, in a few weeks’ time, after she’d added a couple of male dancers, one black and the other white, to her routine, simulating sex with them onstage, as she belted out the blues or poured pop lyrics over the teeming crowd of her audience, it was clear that Panther wasn’t going away any time soon and that, every day, she was eroding Harmony’s and Melody’s appeal. Lesbianism was chic, but in-your-face heterosexual sex among mixed African-American and Caucasian dancers was hard to beat, as was the fact that Panther’s vocal range was phenomenal, whereas both Harmony’s and Melody’s was, at best, minimal.



It was Betty who came up with what she–and her clients–hoped would be the solution to what they’d come to refer to as “the Panther problem,” and, more and more, celebrity rags began to hint at a “huge secret” that the “Sapphic singers” were “hiding” from their “devoted followers.” Columnists wondered whether it was “fair of the pair to withhold from their fans whatever deep, dark secret they harbored,” and some writers demanded that they “care enough to share” this secret, whatever it was, with their “faithful fans.” It was time, a gay publication suggested, that the “lesbian lovebirds” “outed” themselves about whatever secret they were keeping.



Instead, Betty dropped hints. “Insiders” claimed, one tabloid announced, that “Harmony and Melody are seeing others.” Another publication proclaimed that, “according to reliable sources,” the singers were “adopting an orphaned girl, whom they planned to raise as a lesbian, like them.” A third periodical whispered the titillating thought that “maybe Harmony and Melody are really straight!” The girls let the rumor mill grind, and the demand that they share their secret, whatever it was, with their fans grew to enormous, thunderous dimensions. Their career was back on track, the pair again a runaway success, their every release gold.



Once again, they’d reinvigorated their career.



But Panther was tenacious. She ramped up her act, incorporating a striptease into her act, so that, by her final number, she was wearing only a pair of silk thongs and her buffed male dancers gyrated in sequined jockstraps. The heterosexual threat of Panther and Her Boys remained hard to beat, and, instead of Harmony and Melody leaving the “black sex goddess,” as the tabloids had dubbed “the Panther of pent-up desires,” in their wake, another fallen star, the duo found themselves in the fight of their lives. There was nothing left for them to do, they decided, but to “come clean” and divulge their secret–live, on stage, before thousands of their adoring fans, of course.



It was a calculated risk. They knew that they’d lose some fans immediately. Others might remain faithful, but their ardor would cool to the extent that they wouldn’t go out of their way to attend a concert or buy a CD. Moreover, it was all but certain that their revelation would end in their arrest, a hard-fought trial, and maybe even a period of incarceration. Such events could irrevocably harm or save their career. They decided that it was a risk they should take. Indeed, if they were to stop Panther, it was a risk they had to take. Betty announced that, three months from now, in August, during their performance at New York City’s Madison Square Garden, Harmony and Melody would finally reveal their secret to the world.



*



When configured for concerts, Madison Square Garden’s capacity is 20,000, and the stadium was filled to overflowing when Harmony and Melody stepped onto the stage. Under brilliant lights, they began their long-awaited Revelation Show, belting out the opening lyrics of their signature song, “Harmony and Melody”:



As soon as I saw her, I had to see more; She’s the harmony To my melody, And, since our first night Together, we’ve been tight.



Just as they’d anticipated, the crowd went wild, standing, waving their arms and hands, cheering, shouting, and whistling. From the stage, the singers saw familiar banners: “Girl Power,” “Lesbian Singers Rock,” and “You Go, Girl!”



The music changed, signaling the introduction of new or altered verse, and the duet sang new lyrics in place of the original:



We’ve long had a secret We cannot forget; We’ve been dying to tell it, Hoping it’s a hit With our fans, the best in the world, So, here it is, boys and girls.



The singers took off their halter tops, displaying their breasts. In New York, they knew, it was legal for women to exhibit their bosoms. On the great screen that depicted their every onstage posture and pose, their bare breasts were the size of Volkswagens. The crowd expressed its thunderous appreciation of the full, high, round tits that bounced and jiggled as the lesbian lyricists danced and gyrated.



Harmony twirled into Melody’s arms, and their breasts flattened against each other as the women embraced tightly, kissing. Their mouths opened to admit one another’s tongues, and the performers mouth-fucked each other with their stiff, probing oral appendages. Again, the gigantic screen exhibited their same-sex shenanigans to the cheering crowd. The enthusiasm of their fans was deafening.



As the performers continued to kiss, their open mouths sealed over each other, Harmony’s hands cupped Melody’s buttocks through Melody’s leather mini-skirt, and Melody gripped and squeezed the cheeks of her lover’s ass through the skin-tight, white jeans that Harmony wore. The crowd screamed, jumping for joy. “Panther’s career is as good as dead,” Harmony predicted. Melody nodded, and the girls sang the next stanza of their revised song:



We’re gay, and we’re proud To sing it out loud, But you already know that, So lesbian love’s not the cat We’ll let out of the bag To set tongues a-wag.



Here, they paused to resume their French kissing, and their audience applauded. The new lyrics were dreadful, both singers agreed, but their fans, it seemed, were more than pleased with the revision to their signature song, and that was always all that really mattered–keeping the fans happy.



Behind them, Harmony and Melody had erected a pair of folding screens inlaid with their likenesses, captured in mosaic tiles. After a final hug, each singer scampered behind her screen. The music continued to play, and the ladies let the suspense build. No doubt, the audience was anticipating a costume change, but none of their many admirers could possibly know what the singers had in store for them.



At Harmony’s nod, the two performers emerged, and the huge screen showed the 20,000 fans gathered in the stadium a truly shocking sight–a revelation that would be headlined (and shown, in pixilated TV images and censored photographs) around the world this evening, tomorrow, and pretty much forever. Harmony and Melody were naked, their buoyant breasts, bouncing and jiggling as the duo sprinted toward one another, clearly displayed, as were their swinging cocks and balls! The huge screen showed the singers’ full, firm, high, round breasts; their fabulously feminine fannies; and their cute, boyish genitals, revealing to the world that the supposedly “lesbian lyricists” were, in fact, male-to-female transsexuals, or transwomen, who’d opted to retain, rather than to surrender, their male sex organs.



As the duo embraced, breasts pressing breasts and cocks and balls sliding and rolling against cocks and balls, kissing passionately, hands caressing breasts and buttocks and fondling pricks and testicles, the police rushed the stage, arresting the transsexual pop stars. Harmony and Melody were led away in handcuffs to the cheers, whistles, and shouts of their fans. That evening, it was clear to all, including Panther and Her Boys, who were watching in choice seats, live, as the arrests were being made, that the career of Harmony and Melody was anything but over. In fact, thanks to their Revelation Show, their star power had gone nova.



As Harmony told Melody, after their attorney had bailed them out of jail, “Heterosexual sex is hard to beat, even for lesbians as lovely as we, but nothing, least of all Panther and Her Boys, can compete against shemale sex!”



Melody agreed, kissing her transsexual-lesbian lover, and, her cock stiffening and swelling, like her nipples, testified to the truth of Harmony’s declaration.

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