For those who like their lesbian sex unadulterated, a warning: this chapter features gay male sex – for reasons important to the narrative. (I think the scene is really hot, and the focus remains on the girls, but I’ve seen complaints in the comments of other stories, so thought I’d try and head off any unhappiness.)
This is the sixth story in an accidental series. Accidental because I only intended to write the one – which is why there are no chapters – sorry about that. The first story is “Can I Rub It For You?” But it’s relatively easy to suss out the order the stories should be read by looking at the dates they were posted.
If you’ve been following the series from the beginning, thanks so much! If you are coming in late, I think this reads better as chapter 6,, but have tried to make each story work as a standalone.
As always I hope if you enjoy the story, and that you will comment if you do, the feedback is encouraging, and i will do my best to reply.
XOSNS
…
Annie was awake. Her heart raced. Disoriented, she could feel her eyelids straining to open as wide as possible, struggling in vain to draw order from the confusion of darkness, shadow, and harsh slivers of street light around her. There was a fight; men struggling violently, loud grunting, a vicious slap.
She lay rigid with fear, began to shake uncontrollably; wanted to flee but was paralyzed. Arms squeezed her; holding her from behind, a body pressed against Annie’s back. The arms squeezed harder, gently. It was Michele. Annie tried to remember where they were; tried to understand what was happening.
“It’s OK,” The Stronger Girl whispered into her ear, “everything’s fine Little One.”
But it wasn’t, Annie heard fear in Michele’s voice, her voice sounded tight, her breathing fast. Annie’s heart pounded; she felt herself panicking. She struggled to free her arms; began to flail.
“DON’T be afraid,” Michele commanded, wrapping her more firmly, immobilizing Annie. Her voice was still tight in her throat, but low and clear now. “They’re just fucking.”
Annie heard it then, Michele wasn’t scared, she was excited; turned on. Annie stopped struggling, and did her best to obey The Stronger Girl; to calm her fear.
“Listen,” The Stronger Girl enthused. Annie heard moaning then gagging. “He’s sucking his dick!”
The gagging had become rhythmic, “glu-ah. glu-ah. glu-ah. glu-ah.”
Annie heard it then, it wasn’t a fight. The shadows and light began to take shape, to make sense. She remembered where they were, David and Charlie’s loft. She stopped struggling and felt her body begin to relax. She realized that she was naked, that Michele was naked against her.
“Do you want to watch?”
Annie was still trying to slow her breathing, to calm her heart. She tried to make sense of The Stronger Girl’s words; couldn’t believe she had heard Michele correctly. She couldn’t gather her wits; felt confused.
“I stayed with them a lot this summer,” she whispered in Annie’s ear. “It would be like this when they’d been drinking,”
Annie remembers then. The bars. The blood. Remembered crying while Michele comforted her.
“I’ve watched them,” The Stronger Girl admitted. “It’s intense.”
In the darkness the gagging continued. “glu-ah. glu-ah. glu-ah. glu-Uh.” Michele had begun to move her hips to the rhythm of it, pushing her pussy against Annie’s ass. Without thinking Annie rolled her hips back, pushed her ass out; obliging herself to Michele’s needs.
“Did they know?” Annie asked, her disbelief and shock made her voice sound small and childish – she hated it.
“No… I don’t know,” Michele told her. “They never said anything, but I think so.” There was a pause. “Or at least I think they knew I was listening. I think they get off on it?”
Annie could hear the trembling of Michele’s breath, her body pushing heat into Annie, could feel The Stronger Girl’s excitement. Annie was still afraid, frightened by the violence, even if it was sex.
“Yes.” Annie told her.
“They get off on it?” Michele asked, confused.
“Yes,” Annie repeated, “I want to watch them.”
…
Their visit with Michele’s parents had ended well, or well enough.
They had gone to a restaurant next door to the museum for lunch. It had low ceilings, but the room was large and chic and obviously very expensive. They had chatted about the art they’d seen. Michele’s father had seemed especially disengaged until the food began to arrive and only then had come out of himself. He had seemed to genuinely enjoy Annie’s enthusiasm for the beautiful plates.
The servings were comically small, but so beautifully presented Annie felt like she was looking at art.
“But Annie,” Michele’s mother had insisted, “surely you must be used to fine dining in France?”
Annie thought of the little inn outside Biarritz she went to with her uncle and his friends – the animal heads on the unpainted wood walls, the enormous round table, a silver platter heaped with duck livers that looked like a pile of cat turds in a puddle of olive oil – it had been the best thing Annie had ever tasted.
“No ma’am,” she told her, “not like this, but my mother has taken me to places that try to do this, I guess? But I’ve never seen anything this beautiful.”
Michele’s father had ended up ordering enough of each item on the menu that they could all try everything. He had teased and made jokes about how pretentious the food looked, the tiny portions, but he had also genuinely enjoyed hearing the server describe each dish. He’d asked questions and been excited to talk about the ingredients; to discuss the different flavors. The conversation had been fun, and even Michele had seemed to relax a little.
When it was time to part, the four of them paused outside the doors of the restaurant. Annie had thanked Michele’s parents for hosting her, for the ballet, the meals. Telling them how nice the hotel room had been; how much she had enjoyed meeting them.
“It was very nice to meet you as well Annie,” Michele’s father had boomed, his breath steaming the cold air like a locomotive. No longer making fun, he had returned to his more formal visage; unsmiling, face tight, jaw clenched. His voice was deep and commanding; all business.
Annie blushed under his stern drilling gaze. Felt guilty, as if he was actually able to see into her, to see what Michele meant to her, what she was to The Stronger Girl.
‘Her ass-lick,’ Annie thought, her blush deepening with her shame.
As Michele said her goodbyes to her father, her mother took Annie’s hand. She wore beautiful black leather gloves, that were as soft and warm as skin.
“It was lovely to meet you Annie,” she told her, her smile friendly but somehow clouded – by concern? by sorrow? She looked at Michele and her husband discussing something quietly but intensely.
“They are so much the same,” she said to Annie, but looking at The Stronger Girl. “I always wanted a little girl, but she is her father, always has been…” She had turned to look down at Annie. “Please take good care of her for me.”
Annie thought kneeling in the public toilet and licking Michele’s pussy clean of piss; thought of the lacquered sole of Michele’s shoe pressing down on the back of her head while she begged. But she also remembered the soaking orgasm Michele had had the night before. Thought of how her small hand had stretched The Stronger Girl to the brink, while Annie sucked and pushed at her clit with tongue. Michele had called Annie’s name as she was wracked by an orgasm so powerful Annie had yelped in pain as contractions clamped hard on the bones of her hand.
“I do ma’am,” Annie told her, feeling for a moment that perhaps she and Michele’s mother might actually be talking about the same thing. “I will,” she promised.
…
“Your parents are very nice,” she told The Stronger Girl. They were standing on the subway platform. Michele was looking down at Annie critically, her face hard. She had been fussing with her hair. Now she jerked at Annie’s scarf, trying to adjust it; wet her thumb with her tongue and scrubbed at something that offended her on Annie’s cheek. She made no reply.
The train had been preceded by a great blast of air, and had thundered into the station. Annie had covered her ears and huddled against Michele, The Stronger Girl’s long hair had whipped around them both. Michele had taken Annie by the shoulders and ushered her into the car as soon as the doors had opened; put her in the window seat, their bags at Annie’s feet. Only after watching The Stronger Girl’s body language as the train made a series of stops and the car began to fill with more and more passengers had Annie realized the move wasn’t a small kindness – giving Annie the nicer spot – that it had been strategic; defensive.
‘She’s protecting me.’
As the train car filled Annie had been studying the other passengers in the black mirror of her window. She watched two beautiful Asian women, both facing Annie, pressed against each other by the crowd, but standing back to front. The woman in back had put her chin on her friend’s shoulder, her cheek pressed against the other woman’s neck, her mouth near her ear as they spoke and laughed.
Their intimacy had brought to mind Nancy and the lingerie saleswoman. How it had been clear to Annie, almost immediately, that the Japanese woman was attracted to her Korean friend. Annie had thought of the way the woman had watched as Annie undressed Nancy, clearly shocked at first, but then going very still as Annie had knelt and stripped Nancy bare in front of her. Annie thought of the woman’s hands trembling as she adjusted the bra straps to fit.
Riding the train, she felt a spike of pleasure as she recalled how the saleswoman had then followed Annie’s lead and knelt at Nancy’s feet to put the first pair of panties on the beautiful girl.
‘Baby Miss,’ Annie thought with a surge of pride.
…
Annie had remained kneeling across from the woman, Nancy standing between them, and had thrilled as her friend had thrust her hips at the woman, the front panel of the panties almost touching the woman’s face and told her she wanted to try another set. Sitting back, low on her haunches, Annie had watched the woman strip the girl. Nancy’s tiny pale nipples were fully erect and long as the first bra had come off. Topless, she had turned around to face the woman, thrusting her hips at her. From between Nancy’s thighs Annie had seen the beads of sweat on the saleswoman’s upper lip as she reached up and pulled the panties down; her mouth daringly close to Nancy’s pussy. For one very exciting moment Annie had thought that the woman would lean forward to kiss Nancy’s sex; would take her friend in her mouth. But instead she had followed the panties to the floor and bowed her head low; making obeisances in imitation of what Annie had done.
At the sight of the woman humbling herself so entirely to Nancy – a stranger, a girl – Annie had felt her core go liquid. Her belly had felt as though she had swallowed coals; that she was filling with warmth and wet. She had looked on as Nancy had stepped out of underwear like she was a goddess and they were foam.
“I want to try the pink set,” Nancy had said. Her voice casual; calm and warm. The saleswoman had raised herself on her knees and turned to find the set. Annie had put her hands on the sides of Nancy’s thighs, pressed her lips to the crack of her ass before dropping back on her haunches to assist the saleswoman with the fitting.
Annie and the saleswoman had worked together to carefully hold the frilly little pink trunks open for Nancy to step into. Annie had studied the woman, tried to guess her age. She was fit and lean. Thirty? Forty? Annie hadn’t been able to tell, but remembered staring at her cleavage, thinking that her breasts were surprisingly large for an Asian woman. Her face was very pretty, wide full lips, beautiful dark eyes, with faded freckles across her cheeks and nose that made Annie think the woman might have had an Irish or Scottish grandparent.
As Annie had boldly studied her, the saleswoman had carefully avoided Annie’s eye; had kept her eyes cast down as the two of them hoisted the silky pink bottoms up.
“Shame?” Annie wondered.
It was only after Annie had released the waistband and watched the saleswoman smooth them over Nancy’s hips that Annie noticed the woman’s wedding ring. Annie had felt her heart overfill her chest, a fresh plume of wet heat split her down the middle; had for a brief moment convinced herself she was going orgasm then and there.
‘How is that so exciting?’ She wondered at herself. Feeling the press of her own shame; her perversity.
Annie had watched as the woman had stood up on her knees to put the pink bra on Nancy. From behind Annie couldn’t see, but knew Nancy’s small pale nipples would be at eye level for the kneeling woman; could tell that Nancy was intentionally pressing close to the woman; crowding her. Once the straps were over her shoulders Nancy had turned slowly around so the woman could close the clasp. Annie had seen how the woman had raised herself a little taller, but stayed on her knees. Had seen how her hands had trembled as she’d reached under Nancy’s arms to adjust the straps from behind. Nancy had twisted one way then the other, raising one arm then the other, had pushed her ass as the woman switched from one side to the other. The two of them, careful to maintain the press of body contact the entire time; the awkward subservience somehow made graceful. It was like watching a dance.
Annie thought of Lakmé singing ‘Viens, descendons ensemble’ to her servant.
“How’s the fit?” Nancy had asked. Her voice was soft and breathy.
‘She is so much more gentle than The Stronger girl,’ Annie had thought. ‘So much more patient.’
The woman, the length of her body already pressed against Nancy’s backside, had reached around and cupped Nancy’s breasts, fingered the thin lacy fabric; testing the way Nancy’s nipples stretched and tented the fabric with her finger tips.
‘Dans l’onde frémissante,’ Lakmé sang in Annie’s mind.
“I think, nice?” the saleswoman had answered, her voice almost a whisper; high and breathy and quavering. Nancy was looking at herself in the mirror, at the woman’s hands on her breasts.
Nancy began to turn, the woman had released her breasts and sat back on her haunches as Nancy had twisted and stepped – looking back over her shoulder and posing for herself in the mirror – again her pussy so close to the woman’s mouth. Annie willed Nancy to take the woman by the hair; force her mouth across that tiny gap.
‘D’une main nonchalante,’ the voices sang.
The woman had watched Nancy; murmured, “lovely…”
“Now the white ones,” Nancy had ordered, and the woman had complied. Rising up on her knees and reaching behind Nancy to unclasp the bra, she had slid it off and set it aside. Annie watched as her hands then reached for Nancy’s waistband, again began to pull them down. As she had lowered them to the ground, Annie had seen the panties were already soiled and wet. Nancy’s sex glistened.
Annie had come to a decision. She had touched Nancy’s right calf and ankle with her hands, urging Nancy to lift it. Together she and the saleswoman had once again freed Nancy’s foot from the panties, but rather than guide it back to the same spot on the floor Annie had brought Nancy’s foot much farther out; her stance now wide.
‘Viens, gagnons le bord,’ the song in her mind urged.
Annie had watched Nancy’s face, held her gaze as she rose. She had felt the saleswoman go still; make a small sound – a fraction of a syllable – almost a gasp. The woman was still holding the panties around Nancy’s other leg, the side of her face almost touching the cheek of Nancy’s ass. Annie placed her hands on Nancy’s thighs and embraced her with her mouth.
‘Descendons,’ the voices cried.
“Oh fffuck Annie,” Nancy had hissed as Annie’s tongue carved her in half. Annie had been struck by how hot Nancy’s pussy had been, the other girl had seemed to calm, so assured, but she worked herself up a fever in front of the saleswoman. Annie slurped loudly as she worked her tongue into the flooded channel, She wanted the woman to hear. Her lips smacked as explored her silky wet folds. Nancy drenched her cheeks and chin.
Nancy’s knees gave momentarily, her body took a little dip before recovering, and then again, as Annie worked deeply with her tongue. On the third small dip Annie felt a charge jolt through her as the saleswoman’s hands joined hers on Nancy’s thighs.
‘Suivons le courant fuyant,’ Annie’s thoughts had sung.
“Fuuuckohgodfuck,” Nancy swore again, the woman’s touch clearly adding to her pleasure, her hips began thrusting in slow smooth bucks at Annie’s mouth.
Annie’s pointed tongue swirled as her lips worked upwards towards Nancy’s clit. Sucking loudly she watched as the saleswoman raised herself off the floor, one knee at a time, and took her place behind Nancy, cradling the girl’s ass and collapsing thighs in the bowl of her lap; her arm around Nancy’s waist.
As Annie’s tongue had freed Nancy’s engorged pearl from its hood, she watched as her friend had reached her arms over her head, folding them back at the elbows, to take the saleswoman’s head in her hands, her fingers pushing through her hair. Annie was struck anew by Nancy’s great beauty.
“Ensemble,” she sang. Pressing the notes into her pussy with her tongue.
Annie snaked her tongue out and back, pushing upwards against the little cleft and the underside of the Nancy’s great pearl, her lips smacking and popping lewdly. She felt a hand on her head, urging her on. Looked up to see Nancy, head thrown back on saleswoman’s shoulder, and the woman, her face pressed against Nancy’s bare neck, her hair held tightly in Nancy’s fists, looking down at Annie.
As Annie realized it was the woman’s hand on her head, the woman’s fingers gently stroking her hair, the perversity of the wedding band; she came.
“MmmMMm” she moaned into Nancy’s clit. As she felt herself losing control – her blood pounding in her ears, her skin flushing hot, beading with sweat, her pants flooding – she had pursed her lips fat around the tip of her tongue used it to pleasure Nancy; smearing her clit as rhythmically as she could manage as her body spasmed against her efforts.
Nancy had cried out, biting back a louder more painful sound. Annie had realized she’d dug her nails into the flesh of her friend’s thighs. She forced her fingers to unlock their hold on the soft skin. But then she had heard the saleswoman cooing with pleasure and approval, that, and the woman’s hand on her head, tenderly petting her hair, had pushed another wave of ecstasy. Annie felt it building in her stomach, radiating outwards; had been stunned to realize she was going to cum again. She had looked up into the woman’s eyes, her expression was so kind, adoring even.
Annie struggled to hold her gaze, to express her own joy and gratitude with her eyes, to keep sucking Nancy’s clit. Her hands, she realized with a start, were no longer on Nancy’s thighs, but were under the saleswoman’s dress, holding the bare cheeks of her ass.
Annie’s back had arched as a second more powerful orgasm washed her.
…
The sun had blinded Annie for a moment as the subway climbed out of a tunnel. She thought she might sneeze, and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them the reflection of the beautiful Asian women was gone. As the little spasm passed Annie shivered and looked out at the day. They were crossing high above the river. The sky was bright and cloudless. Annie was looking south at the city piled high on either side of the water. Her own private Babylon.
“My brother David is gay,” Michele announced.
Annie turned to look at Michele, who was staring forward. The Stronger Girl looked angry; enraged.