Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2000 11:15:27 -0600
From: Katherine T. <katherinet_@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lovers (lesbian) (Katherine T.)
Lovers (lesbian) (Katherine T.)
The following entertainment is for adults only, and anyone not
an adult is hereby warned to go away.
All comments to the author will be greatly appreciated.
Contact me at katherinet_@hotmail.com
A repository of erotic fiction by Katherine T. can be found at
the following URL: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Katherine_T
Author's note: I wrote this story some years ago under another
title and another pseudonym. Frankie's lesbian politics are a bit
antiquated, but politics is politics, and since not all people
evolve politically at the same rate, the story is probably still
relevant. This is a story of a particular troubled lesbian
relationship, and like any story of a relationship, it may not be
descriptive of other relationships. I've made some minor changes
and I'm now posting this new version for the first time.
Lovers
by Katherine T.
What you see is not what is there.
What is there is something else.
-- Unknown
TWELVE: VALERIE
Valerie meets Brady and another woman on Broadway. The sun
is hot enough to bring the sweat out on their foreheads. The sun
makes Valerie regret she isn't more careful with her makeup. She
likes to keep her appearance intact. She hates the feeling of
vulnerability when the sun makes her wilt. When she looks at
Brady, Valerie remembers how it was with Brady and Cleo and the
others that time in Brady's house. She remembers Brady's hands on
her ass and it makes her quiver. Brady's huge breasts jut outward
like two mountains. Her silhouette would not show a straight line
anywhere. Does she remember that party? When their eyes meet,
Valerie understand Brady remembers everything.
Brady's friend calls herself Dell and she's different, less
aggressive than Brady, more thoughtful. The way she looks at
Valerie makes it seem as though she's trying to hypnotize her. At
moments Valerie feels she's approaching the danger zone of
getting turned on. She can feel the itch, her clitoris engorged,
a definite throbbing at intervals. She wonders what will happen,
what the risk will be. She does not want to incite Cleo into one
of her crazy jealousies. But when Brady suggests they all go to
the nearest girl-bar to drink and talk, Valerie agrees.
Walking into the bar is like stepping through a veil
separating one world from another world. They take a booth and
order a pitcher of beer. Brady drinks the beer and then she wipes
the foam off her lips with her fingers. She looks at Valerie and
says: "I like your dress."
Valerie says thank you, wondering if Brady is coming on to
her. She likes the taste of the beer. She feels a surge of
pleasure at not being alone this afternoon.
Brady says: "Cleo told me you're living with someone."
Valerie nods. "Yes, I am living with someone."
Brady chuckles. "Getting enough?"
Valerie blushes and she says nothing. She avoids their eyes,
looking at the empty bar and then at her beer glass. She wonders
what they think of her. Poor little femme not getting enough. She
feels her breasts swelling in her bra. She has a sudden fantasy
she's on a beach and Brady and Dell are tearing her dress off,
delighting her with their hands. She imagines Dell's hands
tickling the hollows, tickling between her legs as the hot sun
beats down on them. She imagines the petals of her cunt opening
like a hot greedy flower to their fingers.
After a while Brady rises. "I've got some business downtown.
You two have fun."
Valerie is stunned. Brady's departure is unexpected, and
after she leaves the bar Valerie feels uncomfortable with Dell
because she hardly knows her.
But Dell is soft and easy, at least softer than Brady, and
after a while Valerie feels more relaxed, happy with Dell because
she's different and variety is always welcome. Dell, in fact,
seems a little piqued that Brady ran off like that. Brady is one
of those women who always leave uncertainty behind them. Like a
big fast ship rocking the small boats as it passes them. Dell
nurtures this new friendship with Valerie, speaking softly,
smiling, getting Valerie to understand she finds her appealing.
"Lean forward," Dell says.
Puzzled, Valerie asks why. "What for?"
"Come on, do it. Just do it for me."
When Dell looks down at Valerie's breasts, Valerie
understands. She blushes and she leans forward, her blouse
billowing out to make it easy for Dell to look down the neckline
at her breasts.
"Sexy," Dell says with a soft laugh. "Sexy tits in a lace
bra. Brady told me you had your brains fucked out at that party."
Valerie's face is red. "It's not fair to talk about people
like that."
"Hell, what's the harm? Who cares? You're too pretty to care
about that. Do you like me?"
Uncertain, Valerie looks at her. Dell is beefy, pushing
forty, but she has a soft face and nice eyes. "Sure," Valerie
says.
"I've got some toys. I'm getting hot thinking about doing
you with a strap-on. How about it?"
Valerie quivers. "I don't know."
"It's boring sitting here. Let's go to my place and get
comfortable, okay?"
When Dell rises, Valerie rises with her. The possibility of
being abandoned in the bar is intolerable.
* * *
Dell has more grace than Brady or Cleo. She treats Valerie
with care, helping her into the taxi, then helping her out of the
taxi. On the stairs walking up to Dell's apartment in a small
six-flat building, Dell puts a hand on Valerie's ass and she
keeps it there as Valerie climbs the steps in front of her.
Valerie feels the strong fingers through the layers of clothing.
She likes the idea that Dell wants her, wondering what Dell will
do in bed. Dell makes a joke about how difficult it is to walk
behind a pretty ass, and Valerie laughs as they climb the stairs.
Inside her apartment, Dell opens a window to get some air in
the place. The living room is a mess, old magazines and
newspapers everywhere, a food tray perched on top of the TV set.
Dell brings some cold beer out of the kitchen, and after that
they sit on the sofa and Dell starts groping Valerie, kissing her
and fondling her breasts through her blouse. When Dell starts
unbuttoning the front of her blouse, Valerie leans back with a
sigh of surrender.
"Let's have a look," Dell says. She gets the blouse
unbuttoned, but instead of unhooking the front of Valerie's bra,
she deftly scoops Valerie's breasts out of the cups and she bends
her head to suck one of the nipples.
Valerie groans as she looks down at Dell's head. She can see
the gray hair mixed with the red, the pink shell of one of Dell's
ears. She feels wanton, totally vulnerable, willing to do
anything Dell wants. She imagines a smell of womanhood in the
room, a smell of ripe cunt. Maybe it's her own smell. Dell
excites her because she has a definite sensuality in the way she
moves and talks. Dell finishes sucking one nipple and she moves
to the other one. Her hand now slides between Valerie's legs and
under her skirt to find her panty-covered crotch. Valerie opens
her thighs as Dell's fingers lightly stroke her puffed lips
through the nylon of her panties.
Dell pulls her mouth away from Valerie's breast, leaving the
nipple stiff and glistening with her saliva. "What's Cleo like in
bed?"
Valerie is amused. "You don't want to talk about that."
"Sure I do. Does she fuck you with a dick?"
Valerie quivers as she feels Dell's fingers pinching her
labia. "No, never." She has an urge to guide the fingers inside
her cunt at once, get Dell to take her immediately. She feels
herself gushing, damp in the crotch. Would Cleo care about
sharing her with Dell? Valerie has no qualms about opening her
thighs to Dell. She slumps further on the sofa, quivers, opens
her thighs wider and looks at Dell through half closed eyes. "I
like you better than Brady."
Dell chuckles. "You do? Come on, let's get the blouse and
skirt off. I'm dying to look at you."
Before long Dell has Valerie stripped down to her heels and
nylons. She kisses Valerie, pushes her thick tongue inside
Valerie's mouth as she strokes Valerie's thighs and tells her how
much she wants to fuck her. Valerie imagines Dell lunging at her
with a dildo. She knows what it's like; she had it during the
wild days before she met Frankie, from the butches in the bars.
Dell gets her to stand now, and Valerie thinks she can definitely
smell herself, the scent of her cunt, her juices oozing between
her legs. She wonders what sort of game Dell has in mind. The air
in the room is hot and damp, and she can feel the sweat between
her naked breasts as Dell kisses her again. Dell kisses her mouth
and chin and then her breasts. The older woman fondles Valerie's
ass, whispering in her ear how pretty she is in the stockings and
heels, while at the same time her fingers slide into the crack
between Valerie's buttocks and one finger gently tickles
Valerie's anus. Valerie trembles, hoping Dell won't want her
there, not with a dildo at least. She has a sudden memory of Cleo
taking her ass with her fingers, Cleo teasing her because she
came so hard. Dell hugs her, binding her body close with her
strong arms, a ray of sunlight appearing to sparkle as Valerie
presses against Dell to feel the soft pillows of Dell's big
breasts under her shirt.
Laughing, Dell says: "You're dripping, honey. You're hungry
for it." She makes Valerie turn around and bend forward with her
hands on the back of a chair. Dell stands behind her, kissing her
neck and then sliding her hand between her thighs to get at her
crotch. Valerie groans as she moves her legs further apart. She
feels Dell's hand down there, the strong fingers pinching and
then spreading her labia. Valerie has a sudden fantasy of being
fucked in a meadow by a woman wearing black leather. The idea is
so unexpected, she giggles, which makes Dell think her fingers
are doing it. Dell chuckles as she rubs between the lips of
Valerie's cunt and inside the crack of her ass at the same time.
She kisses Valerie's neck again, nibbling at her skin and then
whispering in Valerie's ear: "If you'll pull your cheeks open,
I'll rim you."
Valerie shudders. She lowers her shoulders to the
upholstered back of the chair, and then she reaches behind with
her hands to pull her buttocks apart. In a moment she feels
Dell's hot breath on her ass, and then inside the crack and on
her anus. A whimper of delight comes out of Valerie's throat at
the first touch of Dell's wet tongue. She loves it. She loves to
be treated this way, to be made love to as though she's a hot-
house flower. She loves having a butch's tongue tickling and
licking her ass with such artfulness she's almost ready to come.
Dell rises. She gets her hand between Valerie's legs again,
and this time she takes her with three fingers. Valerie groans,
pushing her ass back to get more, anxious now to have an orgasm
after all that teasing of her anus. Dell's fucking is lavish,
extremely sensual, her knuckles ravaging Valerie's clitoris with
each thrust of her strong fingers. Valerie comes hard, but Dell
keeps fucking her until she comes again. After that Dell makes
Valerie straighten up and she kisses her. She brings her juice
coated fingers to her mouth and she sucks them clean as Valerie
watches her and trembles with excitement. Valerie is overcome,
her mind drugged with the intense sex. She's ready for anything
now, and when Dell says she'll be right back, Valerie knows what
to expect and she wants it desperately.
"If you want beer, it's in the frig," Dell says.
"Okay."
The older woman playfully pinches one of Valerie's nipples
and then she saunters away. Valerie leaves the living room and
she walks into the kitchen to find a beer in the refrigerator.
The kitchen window shade is up, the window facing the adjacent
building, and Valerie giggles as she remembers she's wearing only
stockings and heels. She hurries back to the living room, and she
stands near the stereo sipping beer out of the can and slowly
swaying her hips to the beat of the music.
When Dell returns, she's half undressed, stripped to the
waist with her big breasts swinging free and a long thick dildo
sticking out of the open fly of her jeans. "Here I am with my
dick," Dell says with a laugh, curling her hand around the shaft
of the dildo and lewdly stroking it from the tip down to the
base.
Valerie blushes as she gazes at the dildo. The color is more
pink than natural, and the length and thickness large enough to
make the toy a bit frightening. What turns her on more than the
dildo are Dell's big breasts. The brown nipples are huge, each
breast like a beach ball capped with a dark moon. Dell notices
Valerie's gaze, and she smiles as she releases the dildo to lift
her breasts with her right forearm. "You want to suck one of
these, honey? Come on, don't be bashful."
Mesmerized by the heavy breasts, Valerie moves forward to
bend her head and take one of the tits in her mouth as Dell holds
it up to her mouth. Dell sighs as she feels Valerie nibbling and
sucking at her fat nipple. "That's good, angel. That's very
good."
The sucking of Dell's big breast brings an intense heat to
Valerie's cunt, the juices streaming down to the tops of her
stockings. She suctions the nipple between her lips, attempting
to pull it outward. She remembers a girl in college, a wild-eyed
dyke with enormous breasts whose favorite game was to offer a
breast to anyone at the slightest provocation. Valerie, in fact,
accepted the offer at a party and thus confirmed her inner
yearning to be a lesbian.
Now when she pulls her mouth away from Dell's breast, Dell
smiles at her as she undulates her hips. "Go down on it, honey.
Get my dick in your mouth and suck it."
Valerie blushes. She drops to a crouch now, squatting in
front of Dell, holding onto the denim covering Dell's big thighs
as she tilts forward to take the pink dildo between her lips. The
taste isn't at all rubbery, more neutral than she expected, and
as she holds her head still Dell chuckles and shoves her hips
forward to bury half the length of the dildo in Valerie's mouth.
"Is that too much," Dell asks. "You've got such a gorgeous
mouth."
Valerie feels the excitement in her cunt as she sucks the
pliable plastic dildo. She likes this kind much better than one
of those hard vibrators. She likes the feel of it in her mouth,
like a huge pacifier, the surface with an almost velvet texture.
She smells patchouli, but she can't imagine where it's coming
from. She hears Dell's heavy breathing, and when she looks up she
whimpers with lust at the sight of Dell's pendulous breasts
hanging over her head. Nothing ventured nothing gained, Valerie
thinks. Is Dell the answer to her problems? Dell certainly seems
more interested in giving her pleasure than Cleo does. Cleo is
selfish, always prolonging the satisfaction of her own needs,
never caring when Valerie complains about Cleo's fingers hurting
her rectum. What Cleo likes is having Valerie's head squeezed
between her muscular thighs, Valerie's head squeezed so hard she
sometimes thinks she'll die that way.
Dell finally takes Valerie into the bedroom. She makes
Valerie lie on her bed on her back with her knees up and apart to
show her cunt. Dell talks about it, telling Valerie how pretty it
is, telling Valerie how much she likes the way the hair is
trimmed, and how the triangle is so perfect it makes her
salivate. Of course it's all nonsense, but Valerie loves it
anyway. She adores it when a woman looks at her cunt and tells
her how pretty it is. She holds her knees back with her hands,
aware how exposed she is, aware of Dell's eyes on her cunt and
anus. She wishes Dell would dive down and get her nose in it,
polish her clit with that strong nose, but instead Dell let's her
hold her legs like that as she continues feasting her eyes.
"Show me the hole," Dell says.
Valerie blushes but she does it. She slides her hands down
and she uses her fingers, pulling her cunt apart to reveal the
mouth of her vagina. Dell stares at it, smiling, her face
flushed, one hand slowly stroking the dildo that protrudes from
her fly.
In a moment Dell climbs onto the bed and the main event
begins. Kneeling between Valerie's thighs, she hoists Valerie's
legs over her shoulders and she gets busy guiding the dildo into
Valerie's wet tunnel. Valerie groans as it goes in. She keeps her
eyes closed and she focuses on the feel of it. A shudder passes
through her body as she feels one of Dell's fingers working its
way inside her anus. She hears Dell whispering at her, sweet
words of encouragement, much more romantic, really, than what she
gets when Cleo fucks her. The dildo feels so good in her cunt,
she prays it will never stop. Her cunt is running wet, the
lubrication making everything so deliciously slippery. Dell keeps
that finger in her backside, slowly screwing it in and out as she
continues thrusting with the dildo. When Valerie cries out, Dell
starts slamming it in there to make the orgasm more intense.
"Geronimo," Dell says, and Valerie screams as she comes again on
the sliding prick.
THIRTEEN: FRANKIE
Frankie sits on a chair in Alison's bedroom. Alison is on
the bed, her body wrapped in a robe, lying on her side as she
idly turns the pages of a fashion magazine. Relaxed on the chair,
Frankie watches Alison, her eyes on Alison's legs revealed by the
askew robe, the nylon-clad ankles, the elegant high-heeled
slippers that make her feet look so enchanting.
Now Alison puts the magazine away and she rises from the
bed. She sighs, fluffs her blonde hair and walks over to the
dressing table. Is she annoyed at something? Frankie can't
imagine what it is. She always does her best to keep Alison
pacified. The problem is Alison is often too sophisticated, too
difficult to please. Frankie finds it difficult to predict from
one time to the next what Alison might want. The affair has a
certain breathless pace, a pace determined by Alison and not by
Frankie.
Alison removes her robe. Frankie feels a sudden bubble of
lust forming in her belly as she looks at Alison who is now
wearing only beige stockings with elastic tops and the high
heels. Alison has a definite penchant to tease. Avoiding
Frankie's eyes, she stands at the dressing table toying with her
bare breasts, her fingers circling the globes as though to
measure them. What a pet she is. The silk panties are a mauve
color. Her legs look so delicious in sheer nylon, her thighs firm
above the dark tops of the stockings. She pulls at her nipples
with her fingertips, uninhibited, playing with her body as though
Frankie isn't there. Frankie has a sudden desire to touch her,
and she now rises to approach Alison. For a moment they stand
close without contact, Alison turning to look at Frankie, her
eyes amused. On the wall behind Alison is a small oil painting of
a white moon over a blue lake.
Alison says: "Why don't you undress? I never get to look at
you."
Of course it's not true. She has looked at Frankie's body
often enough. But Frankie doesn't argue. She turns away and she
starts undressing, removing each item of her clothing with
deliberate care, the suit jacket, the string tie, the white
blouse, the tailored skirt. She slips her feet out of her flat
shoes and she quickly gets rid of her pantyhose. Now she wears
only maroon androgynous underpants. Her nipples are stiff, the
areolas contracted around the dark points. When she looks at
Alison, she sees the interest in Alison's eyes. What does she
want? Frankie thinks. She's never comfortable being naked with a
femme. She has a sudden fear Alison will send her away. Dear god,
what a wrenching beauty she is! She imagines Alison yielding to
her. She wonders if she ought to remove her underpants, and she
decides to keep wearing them. Her cunt is leaking into the
crotch, and she's certain if she opens her legs the stain will be
visible. Does Alison appreciate that? Alison is looking at
Frankie, but her interest is directed at Frankie's almost
nonexistent breasts rather than at her crotch. Frankie is uneasy
under Alison's gaze. She pretends to arrange her clothing on the
chair, and as she does this she willfully contracts her buttocks
to produce a tingling stab of pleasure in her anus, an absurd
moment that makes her want to giggle like a silly girl. Does
Alison understand anything? Frankie finishes adjusting her
clothing on the chair, and now with a twinge of annoyance she
quickly peels her underpants off and she tosses them on the pile
of clothes without looking at the crotch to inspect the wetness.
She faces Alison. They stand about six feet apart, Alison's
right hand now raised to position her fingers in the valley
between her breasts. Frankie hesitates a moment, and then she
says: "Do you have any skin lotion I can use? My arms are dry."
Alison finds the plastic bottle on the dressing table and
she hands it to Frankie, who turns away from Alison as she
squeezes out some lotion on her palm and then rubs it into her
forearm. Frankie guesses Alison is now looking at her ass, but
she'd rather have her ass looked at than the rest of her. Her
technique has always been to avoid attention to her body, a
ridiculous idea since women always like the way she looks.
As if reading Frankie's mind, Alison says: "I like your
body."
Frankie quivers, aware of a gush of juice between her legs.
Now she's wondering what to do with Alison, or what Alison will
want from her. Sometimes, like now, Alison likes to extend the
foreplay a long time before they get down to the real fucking.
Unfortunately, it's the fucking that Frankie likes best, the hard
deliberate fucking of Alison's lovely body. She quivers as she
recalls probing Alison's openings with her fingers.
Unexpectedly, Alison moves closer to Frankie and she strokes
one of Frankie's arms. "Are you still working out?"
Frankie nods. "It's a good health club. I could take you in
as a guest some time."
Alison smiles. "I wouldn't last five minutes in one of those
places."
"But everyone needs exercise."
Alison seems fascinated by Frankie's muscular arms. Frankie
gazes at Alison's breasts and she feels an urge to run her tongue
over the luscious tips. She's hot now. She'd like her saliva
dripping on those fruity tits. She quivers as Alison's hand
slides across her chest, the blonde's fingers playfully pinching
one of Frankie's turgid nipples.
"Anyway, I do like your body," Alison says.
"Let's get on the bed."
Alison laughs softly as Frankie urges her toward the bed.
They fall on the bed together, arms and legs wrapped around each
other, one body pressed against the other in a hot kiss. Frankie
clamps her mouth against Alison's as she pushes her tongue
between Alison's lips. Her hand finds one of Alison's breasts and
she squeezes it, palpating the flesh, her mouth working against
Alison's. The blonde croons with pleasure as Frankie pinches her
nipple. Frankie moves her head down, moves her mouth to Alison's
breasts. She takes the nipple she has just pinched, takes it
between her lips and slowly drips her saliva over it. Does Alison
understand how much she adores her?
Alison moans. "Kiss me everywhere."
Frankie's head is reeling with excitement as she wonders
exactly what Alison means. Kiss me everywhere. The blonde's
beauty intoxicates Frankie. Alison rolls from side to side on her
back. So desirable. Frankie runs her hands over Alison's full
breasts, over the nipples sticking up like darts. Alison's pink
nipples are a provocation. Frankie bends to the feast, licking
Alison's breasts, sucking each nipple in turn. Alison bends her
head to watch Frankie's mouth. Frankie uses her hands to wiggle a
breast against her lips. She's hungry for both nipples, annoyed
she can't take them at the same time, two hard raisins so
delicious it makes her tremble. She gives them the full
treatment, rubbing her face in the cleft between the two full
breasts, rubbing her wet mouth over the nipples until they seem
to swell into enormous berries. She inhales the scent of Alison's
blonde skin.
Then Alison presses the top of Frankie's head. Frankie
knows. She puts up no resistance to it. She rolls her face over
Alison's diaphragm as she drags her mouth downward. There is no
need for Alison to tell her what she wants. Frankie knows. She
tugs at the waistband of Alison's panties.
"Pretty panties," Frankie says.
"Do you really like them?"
The meaningless chatter of two lovers. Frankie presses her
cheek against the nylon. Alison wants to be sucked and Alison as
usual is tenacious. She pushes at Frankie's head again. Frankie
pulls the panties down, tantalizing herself as she slowly
uncovers more skin, the blonde bush, a thrill as she sees all of
the triangle. What a lovely thick tuft she has! Alison lifts her
ass to make the removal of the panties easier. Frankie pulls them
off, sliding the wisp of nylon over Alison's nylon-clad legs,
excited by the stockings that make Alison look so decadent.
Alison lifts her knees, opening her thighs wide, then hooking one
leg around Frankie to draw her in.
The blonde's meaty cunt is waiting like a pink clam. Frankie
bends to it, bends to the eating of the clam as Alison moans with
pleasure.
Before long Alison has both legs hooked around Frankie's
back, her thighs wide apart, her cunt completely available to
Frankie's mouth. Frankie uses her fingers to caress the outer
lips. She wiggles the cunt with her fingertips, making the inner
lips swell and open like petals. Alison's inner thighs are
perfumed, and mixed with the perfume is the heady scent of her
sex. Frankie spreads the cunt wider, sniffing at it, wetting her
nose with the blonde's syrup, nuzzling at the mouth of her
vagina. Then she mashes her mouth against the cunt and she slurps
in the velvet. Alison moans more loudly. Frankie strokes her
tongue up and down, around in the hole and then licking upward to
Alison's clitoris. The blonde's juices are flowing. Frankie
nibbles at the lips, whips the clit with her tongue and then
sucks it between her lips as she twists her face in the wet
swamp. Finally, she moves down to plunge her tongue inside the
gaping vagina, her hands holding the larger lips apart, her
tongue thrusting in and out rapidly, then stopping as she sucks
the juices, then thrusting her tongue again. She knows how much
Alison likes this. Alison has told her so. Frankie sucks up the
juices, and then she bites one of the lips before burying her
face in the clam again. Her desire is intense, suffocating,
relentless. She feels Alison pulling at her hair and she finally
raises her head. The cunt, the haven, is now abandoned as Alison
gazes at her with hot eyes. Frankie's heart beats wildly as she
watches Alison take hold of her breasts with her hands and give
her a coy look. Frankie adores her. She has her now but she wants
even more of her.
Alison smiles and says: "Let me roll over."
Ah yes. Frankie backs away and Alison rolls over on her
belly. Now Alison's lovely round ass is visible. She settles
herself on the mattress with her thighs together, her buttocks
tightly closed. Frankie's pulse races as she takes in the ass and
the stockings, the firm full thighs tapering to the fine calves,
then the beauty of Alison's ass again.
With a groan of desperate excitement, Frankie lowers her
face to run her mouth over the curve of a smooth buttock.
Alison whimpers, responding with a gentle wiggle of her
hips.
Frankie treats the blonde's ass with reverence. She finds
her own clitoris with her fingers, and as she slides her parted
lips over Alison's buttock, she rubs the shaft of her clitoris
with her fingertips.
She cherishes Alison's ass. She licks it with her wet
tongue. The skin is like ivory, the flesh beneath it both firm
and resilient, smooth and soft and warm. Frankie feels her own
juices drizzling on her fingers as she moves to the other
buttock.
Alison appears fascinated by Frankie's attentions. She
whimpers, she bleats, she wriggles her ass under Frankie's face.
They have done this before and Frankie knows Alison is fully
aware how far it will go, how devoted Frankie can be, how loving
to this part of her anatomy. "I like the way you do my ass,"
Alison once said. This made Frankie tremble with embarrassment,
and she hurriedly turned away in order to hide her face.
Now Frankie manipulates both buttocks with her hands. Alison
responds to everything she does. The blonde moves her thighs
apart, her skin catching the afternoon sunlight as she draws her
knees forward a bit. This raises her ass, and as Frankie nuzzles
in the crack, Alison moves her knees again and her ass lifts even
further.
Frankie is lost. Using both hands, she opens Alison's ass,
pulls at the two loaves, pulls them apart even as she blushes at
her own lust. But no one can see the blush. She buries her face
between Alison's buttocks and she moves her lips around as she
kisses everywhere except the rosebud. The skin in the groove is
soft and luscious and scented with Alison's perfume. Frankie cups
Alison's cunt in her palm to feel the wetness, the wet heat of
it. She slides her mouth down to the vaginal entrance now so
blatantly exposed the opening gapes as a dark red hole.
With a groan, Alison arches her ass upward another few
inches. Her knees slide further apart, her thighs widening, her
ass gently rolling.
Frankie's mind is in a whirl. It occurs to her she'd rather
have Alison in a garter belt. These stockings with elastic tops
are sexy, but a garter belt would be more interesting. She wants
the feel of garters under her fingertips as she presses her face
into Alison's full ass. She tells herself she needs to find a way
to let Alison know, whisper it sometime when Alison isn't
expecting it. She imagines Alison will be amused and say yes,
she'll wear a garter belt if Frankie wants it.
Now Frankie gazes at the tendrils of hair in the crack. She
holds Alison's hips as Alison writhes. She runs her thumbs along
the inner slopes of Alison's buttocks, her fingers splayed to
their full extent as she takes possession of Alison's ass. Below
the split between the two buttocks, the pouch of Alison's cunt is
a like a hairy mouth begging for attention.
Maybe sometime she'll have her on a boat, take her this way
with the wind in the sails.
The counterpane on the bed is made of pink satin, now
spotted in places with sweat and cunt syrup.
Both hands on Alison's ass, Frankie wiggles the cheeks,
pulls the buttocks apart as she gazes at Alison's anus.
Frankie's clitoris feels swollen, enormous. She looks down
at her belly and she wonders if later on she'll have a chance to
rub herself on Alison's ass and thighs. Alison is never
predictable. The affair has its peaks and valleys. Frankie;s head
is now pounding with lust, her cunt oozing.
Alison elevates her ass even further, offering it to
Frankie, and now looking at Frankie over her shoulder. "Kiss me
some more," Alison says.
Frankie becomes the lover commanded. She lowers her face
again, nuzzling between Alison's buttocks. A great heat seems to
radiate from the two globes. Frankie rubs her nipples against
Alison's thighs, catching one nipple at the top of a stocking.
She tries to remember what they did the last time. She wants
their lovemaking to have enough variety to prevent Alison from
getting bored. Now she slides her mouth over Alison's anus,
wetting it, tickling it with her tongue, then placing her tongue
directly on the ring and pushing just hard enough to make Alison
feel it.
Alison moans. Frankie has a hand on her own cunt, her palm
slowly rubbing her wet flesh, the wet mat of pubic hair. Does
Alison realize how hot this makes her? For a brief moment,
Frankie feels an urge to rebel against Alison's need to be
serviced. This body worship. Frankie's cunt gushes in her hand,
the syrup flowing over her fingers. Dear god, she's dripping.
Alison bumps her ass upward. Frankie feels a tingling in her
clitoris as she grips Alison's buttocks with her hands. Her
tongue has now penetrated the tight ring, Alison groaning as she
presses her ass back against Frankie's face. The blonde's thighs
are wide apart, her back bent, her face turned to the side and
pressed into the pillow, her eyes closed as she focusses all her
attention on what Frankie is doing to her ass. For Frankie the
caress is a violation, a possession, the heat in her chest rising
as she plasters her lips against Alison's anus to suck it into a
yielding softness.
Is the room too warm? The sweat seems to roll off Frankie's
breasts in a torrent. She keeps her tongue active, sensitive to
each cry of pleasure from Alison, probing vigorously and then
relaxing to a mere delicate fluttering at the entrance.
When Alison finally comes, it's like the eruption of a
volcano, her body quaking as Frankie suddenly transfers her hand
from her own cunt to Alison's cunt, her fingers taking Alison's
vagina, two fingers penetrating, thrusting deep inside the
tunnel, sliding in and out as her tongue continues to wriggle in
the blonde's receptive anus.
Afterward, after they bathe together and spread lotion over
their bodies, Frankie makes love to Alison's ass again. Alison
giggles and tells Frankie she's insatiable.
FOURTEEN: VALERIE
When Frankie's law firm sends her to Washington for a few
days, Valerie agrees to go dancing with Cleo in the evening. They
go to a lesbian bar, Valerie tingling with excitement and
apprehension because it's possible someone who knows Frankie
will see her with Cleo.
Once inside the crowded bar, Valerie's head becomes filled
with the music, the noise, the press of so many women surrounding
her. She hasn't had an evening out like this one in such a long
time. She stands beside Cleo as Cleo waves to her friends, talks
to her friends, ignoring Valerie who doesn't mind it because she
doesn't want to be conspicuous. She's hoping after they leave the
bar Cleo will take her home and give her a workout. Thinking
about that makes Valerie shiver with excitement, the familiar
excitement that occurs whenever she thinks of the way Cleo
handles her like a rag doll. Her syrup is flowing. She can feel
it. The ambience in the bar, the rush, the noise, the mix of
perfume turns her on.
Before long a mannish looking dyke swaggers over to say
hello to Cleo, and Valerie gets to meet Pauly. They chat awhile,
and then Cleo slides an arm around Pauly's shoulders and smiles
at Valerie. "Pauly's an old friend, Val. You be nice to her while
I go say hello to someone."
Valerie is peeved, but there isn't much she can do about it
as Cleo walks off into the crowd. Pauly presses against Valerie,
presses her against the bar and says: "What'll you have, honey?
You want another daiquiri?"
The play is there, Pauly playing her, running a hand over
Valerie's back at the same time as her knee comes up to push
through Valerie's dress against her crotch. For a moment Valerie
wants to rebel, but she finds that impossible. She realizes now
Cleo may want this. The booze and the loud music make everything
seem so wild. She wonders if she ought to keep away from Pauly.
But no, Pauly won't have that. Pauly moves in, kisses the side of
her neck, whispers into Valerie's ear that Valerie's breasts look
delicious in the low-cut dress, a real handful. "I like tits,"
Pauly says as she turns to take another swig of beer out the
glass.
Just at that moment a girl Valerie knows passes them, the
girl's eyes turning to look at them, the girl smiling as she
recognizes Valerie, raising an eyebrow, then passing on without
saying anything. Valerie wonders if the girl thinks she's with
Pauly. Oh hell, Valerie thinks.
Pauly takes Valerie onto the dance floor. Pauly has a strong
body, and when she starts dancing she looks more mannish than
ever. Valerie glances around the crowded dance floor and she
suddenly sees Cleo with a girl, a pretty blonde in a slinky
dress, the two of them dancing. Valerie trembles with jealousy.
She damns Cleo and Cleo's habit of making her look small. Cleo
seems mesmerized by the pretty blonde. The room is filled with
gorgeous femmes, and now Valerie wonders why she ever agreed to
this date with Cleo. She's not with Cleo anyway, she's with Pauly
now. And she can tell Pauly has an itch for her. That look in
Pauly's eyes means Pauly wants her in bed. Valerie imagines
Pauly's thick fingers inside her cunt. Oh yes, Pauly wants her.
Cleo obviously doesn't care one way or the other. Valerie tells
herself she means nothing to Cleo. Maybe that's why Cleo treats
her like garbage. She continues dancing with Pauly, and now as
they shake their bodies past a mirror, Valerie looks at herself
dancing with this big woman who wants to get inside her pants.
She imagines it, imagines herself unrestrained with Pauly. What a
mannish body she has, the way she moves, the way she tosses those
strong arms around. Valerie feels helpless. Frankie is in
Washington and Cleo is with another girl and she feels so alone,
like a nothing little shadow of other women. That's all she is, a
little shadow of Frankie and Cleo.
Pauly moves in now. As they dance, she puts her hands on
Valerie's hips, her eyes fixed on Valerie's breasts almost
popping out of the low-cut dress. "Let's go downstairs," Pauly
says.
"Downstairs?"
"To the restroom, honey. Let's take a break and go
downstairs, okay?"
Pauly leads her away. Valerie is thankful because she's
tired of dancing and she needs the john anyway. Pauly holds her
with a strong arm around her waist as they make their way off the
dance floor and down the stairs to where a line of women waits
for the restroom to become available. Valerie and Pauly move into
the line, Pauly standing behind Valerie with her crotch pressed
against Valerie's ass and her mouth whispering in Valerie's ear
as she tells Valerie she's the prettiest flower in the place,
much prettier than any of the other femmes. Pauly whispers that
she'd like to put it to her, get her dress up right there in the
line and give it to her from behind with her fingers. Valerie
quivers, excited by Pauly now even though she didn't expect it.
The image of Pauly fucking her from behind is exciting. Pauly is
different than Cleo and Frankie, more determined, more confident.
Valerie feels the big woman radiating sex behind her like a hot
oven.
Finally Valerie and Pauly are up at the front of the line,
and before long they get their turn and they move into the
restroom together. Valerie immediately moves to one of the empty
stalls, but then she feels an immediate shock as Pauly pushes
behind her into the stall, Pauly locking the door and then
grabbing Valerie and kissing her mouth, Pauly's hand sliding
under Valerie's dress to get at her cunt, the older woman's thick
fingers taking possession of Valerie without any preliminaries.
Valerie gasps. "My god, stop it!"
But Pauly only chuckles. "Come on, baby, give it to mama."
She makes Valerie open her legs further, and as soon as Valerie
does this, Pauly's fingers are in there more insistent than ever,
two fingers and then three fingers pushing inside Valerie's wet
cunt, Valerie groaning and finally lifting one foot to the
commode to make it easier for Pauly to get her off. It doesn't
take long, not with a dyke as skillful as Pauly, and soon Valerie
is shuddering as the hot pleasure rips through her body. After
the first orgasm, Valerie begs Pauly to stop, but instead Pauly
makes Valerie turn around and put her hands on the toilet tank.
Pauly now raises Valerie's dress, strokes her ass and then
quickly gets her fingers inside Valerie's cunt again, this time
from the rear.
Valerie is ravished. She can't stop it now because the
pleasure is too sharp. The insides of her thighs are drenched all
the way down to the tops of her stockings. She groans and gasps,
praying no one outside the stall will hear her. Pauly renews the
attack, a fierce fucking in Valerie's cunt with her fingers, and
then at last Pauly gets her thumb in Valerie's ass and Pauly
says: "Cleo told me you're a hot ass. Yeah, she's right, isn't
she?"
In the midst of the wild orgasm, Valerie understands what
has happened, understands that Cleo has dumped her, thrown her
away, given her to Pauly to be Pauly's dolly.
Valerie comes hard, crying at the same time, sobbing her
desperation, and of course Pauly thinks the sobbing means Valerie
is in heaven.
Oh god, I don't want this, Valerie thinks. This is not what
she wants. She hates Pauly, she hates Cleo, she hates everything
that's happened to her. She wants Frankie back. Oh yes, she wants
Frankie.
FIFTEEN: FRANKIE
Frankie is sitting alone in a restaurant on Chestnut Street,
waiting for Alison, fidgeting with her napkin. She has been back
in Chicago three days, and all she cares about now is seeing
Alison again. The trip to Washington was dull, or maybe her mind
these days just isn't focused enough on her work. What she feels
at the moment is anxiety. And sexual expectation. She hopes
Alison will be free this afternoon. Frankie wriggles on the
chair, wondering if her skirt is wrinkled. Under the tailored
jacket she wears a white shirt without a bra, and she can feel
the texture of the cloth against her nipples. She looks around
the room and she feels her sexual hunger again. Will she ever be
content? When she was a girl, she always thought a full moon so
romantic, and what was more important in life than romance? Now
she knows it's not romance that's important, it's love. Intense
absorbing love. She had that once with Valerie, but maybe it will
never return. She had such a difficult time getting Alison to
meet her today. For an instant Frankie wonders if maybe Alison is
too fickle. Maybe she doesn't care enough. What a pity to meet
her in a restaurant and not be able to hug her when they see each
other. Play tough, Frankie thinks, always play tough. Alison
irritated her yesterday by her coyness about meeting today. She's
too beautiful, Frankie thinks. She wants her fingers inside
Alison. I'm living on hope, Frankie thinks. She lives on the hope
things will work out for her, her life get settled somehow. What
does she want? Does she want Alison or Valerie? Is one woman
enough? There are things about Valerie that still excite her
immensely. Her legs, for instance. But Alison excites her too.
The way Alison purrs when Frankie gropes her. The way Alison
likes to offer her ass. Maybe it's the subtlety. Alison is more
subtle than Valerie. You don't understand anything, Frankie
thinks. She understands torts and estates, but she has no
understanding of what she wants from women. She's mystified.
Finally Alison arrives, a tall graceful vision entering the
room, looking around, spotting Frankie and walking toward her.
Frankie feels the hunger again, an intense desire to taste
Alison's beauty.
"Hi," Alison says, a soft smile as she sits down opposite
Frankie.
"You look wonderful," Frankie says. And then she adds: "I
missed you terribly."
Alison accepts the token of affection with a demure glance.
She picks up the menu and she begins discussing it, what she
likes, what she doesn't like. She says she hasn't been in this
restaurant in some time and she isn't that certain about the
food. Frankie has no interest in the food, all she cares about is
Alison, the memories of them together, the sequence of erotic
images now passing through her mind one after the other, each
image burning her brain before it vanishes only to be replaced by
another image. What do I want? Frankie thinks. At the moment what
she wants is the feel of her chin pushing at Alison's cunt,
Alison's juices dribbling on her chin. The memory makes Frankie
tremble. She tells herself she has to stop it before she destroys
herself.
Alison is different. Frankie senses a change in Alison. They
talk about Frankie's trip to Washington, but Alison seems
disinterested. She looks at her hands, at her long fingers.
Frankie talks, but as she talks she schemes about how to get
Alison into bed this afternoon. She wants Alison in her arms. She
imagines herself kissing Alison, petting her, yielding to the
penchant Alison has to have Frankie's tongue everywhere.
Frankie's tongue and nose. A memory of Alison's scent is suddenly
so vivid, Frankie shudders with delight. Scintillating.
Then Alison says: "We need to talk about something."
"What?"
"Something important."
"I'm listening."
Frankie tells herself Alison's ass is so perfect, so
breathtaking. And her belly. And the way she comes.
Alison says: "I've decided I can't go on with this. I really
can't."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm talking about us. I'm sorry."
Frankie remembers Alison moaning as she hunches up to get
more of Frankie's fingers.
"Just like that?"
Alison looks away. "Don't you think it's better to be more
direct? I think it's much better."
For a moment Frankie thinks there might be some way to
pacify Alison, something Alison wants, anything. But of course
it's a mirage.
Frankie says: "Why?"
Alison shrugs. "I've decided I don't want the
circumstances."
"You don't want a gay life?"
Nervous, Alison looks around to see if anyone heard. "Yes,
that's it."
"Oh shit," Frankie says.
Alison blushes. "I was hoping we'd stay friends."
Frankie looks at her. She says nothing. And then she puts
her napkin on the table and she rises. "I'll take care of the
check on the way out. Goodby, Alison."
* * *
In her office in the afternoon, Frankie's mood alternates
between rage and sadness and frustration. Sexual frustration. She
understands that with Alison it was more sex than anything else.
Even thinking about Alison now causes her juices to flow. She
wanted to be with Alison this afternoon, and now instead it's
over, Alison gone from her life, the affair ended. How can I be
so stupid? Frankie thinks. The only bedrock in her life is
Valerie. Loyal Valerie. Oh yes.
Frankie leaves the office early and she goes to
Bloomingdale's. Inside the store, she passes a mirror and she
stops to stare at herself. Well-groomed young female attorney who
might be a dyke but who might not. What's her niche? She brushes
a fleck of lint off her thigh. Then she finds the lingerie
department and she buys a black negligee and she has it gift
wrapped. Is the salesgirl wondering who the gift is for?
"Would you like a card?"
"No, that's not necessary."
The girl gives Frankie a smug smile. Frankie thinks of
something to say, but rather than prolong the farce she takes her
package and she leaves. Some women are such rotten bitches, so
bitchy they can't be answered.
* * *
In the evening, Frankie kisses Valerie. "Have a nice day?"
Valerie shrugs. "Not much of anything."
"I missed you."
Valerie whimpers. "You did?"
Frankie kisses her again, her tongue sliding over Valerie's
mouth. "I bought you a present."
"You did?"
Frankie brings her the Bloomingdale's box, and she sits and
she watches Valerie as Valerie giggles and hurries to open the
box.
She's beautiful, Frankie thinks. She's more beautiful than
Alison.
Valerie moans with joy as she pulls out the black negligee.
"Oh Frankie!"
"Do you like it?"
"I love it! I'll try it on, okay?"
"Sure."
While Valerie is gone, Frankie turns on some music and she
pours out two glasses of white wine. Pity she hadn't thought of
champagne. She closes the blinds and she turns down some of the
lights in the living room. She's eager now, all the anger and
pain of the afternoon washed away, the only thought in her mind
the next few hours with Valerie.
My only love, Frankie thinks.
Valerie comes into the room wearing the black negligee and
high heels, blushing, her dark triangle visible through the sheer
folds.
"I love you," Valerie says.
And Frankie says: "Come over here and kiss me."
end
All comments to the author will be greatly appreciated.
Contact me at katherinet_@hotmail.com
A repository of erotic fiction by Katherine T. can be found at
the following URL: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Katherine_T