Virginia, Giselle and Autumn's Pas de Trois: Unfinished Pleasure, Act Five (Chapter 17)

 

Upon retrieving my cell phone and dishing up a generous portion of peach pie, I sit my naked ass down at the kitchen table to feed my face and text Annabelle:

 

"Having a blast but doesn't feel complete without you here. Miss you. XOXO."

 

Send.

 

No time passes before my messenger app chirps.

 

"OMG Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!"

 

And then...

 

"Miss you too."

 

Followed by...

 

"Now what on Earth are you doing texting your one-night-stand in the middle of an orgy?"

 

I smile with a mouthful of pie and write back, "You're hardly a one-night-stand."

 

"I am so far. Come home and prove that I'm not 😉"

 

A cozy feeling washes over me as I envision myself curling up to her plush curves and blonde hair that smells of freshly baking sugar cookies.

 

"Gladly," I reply.

 

"Aren't you having fun?"

 

"Oh, sure! Just hungry. Pausing for a piece of peach pie."

 

"Taking a break from eating pie by eating more pie. Always on brand my girl is!"

 

I snap a few tasteful selfies, careful not to turn myself into a child pornographer. I send two choice pics – both with my fingers in a V in front of my mouth, a kissy-face on one, and my tongue extended suggestively in the other – with the caption, "Here's the face that satisfied six girls at once."

 

The pause is so pregnant, I fear my prurience may have knocked her up for real.

 

"VIRGINIA!!! I am at WORK!"

 

I titter naughtily and send back an angel emoji.

 

Then I type, "Now you have something to look forward to when you get off."

 

"These will get me off till I'm raw! Mercy!"

 

Tee-hee! I love setting her up for dirty puns.

 

She continues, "I think these are the first pics I have of you."

 

"Well, I don't take many."

 

"Now I'm extra honored!"

 

"I don't believe I have any of you either..."

 

A few seconds later, my phone glows with the image of bubbly Annabelle wearing her signature low-cut royal blue cami top and white capris.

 

"Hello, girls! You're wearing my favorite outfit :heart_eyes:"

 

"It's the one I had on when we met." You can practically see her sentimentality dripping from every letter and I am overcome with all the mushy feels myself.

 

"How could I ever forget? You're my ice cream queen teenage dreamgirl."

 

Complete silence.

 

I text, "You're squealing and scaring your customers, aren't you?"

 

"YES!"

 

Then...

 

"WORTH IT."

 

And...

 

"You're the one that's like a dream to me. I still can't believe you're real."

 

"We'll go on a real date again once I get back, I promise."

 

"Wait...we can date?"

 

"Sure."

 

Epic quiet.

 

At last, I ask, "More squealing?"

 

"Whatever are you implying? I'm the epitome of calm. There's no crying at all or anything. Nope. And I absolutely did not scream `I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!!' in a shop full of little kids and their moms."

 

I wish Annabelle could see my blushing, laughing cheeks.

 

"Well, you do. Why not shout it?"

 

"Girl, you'll be the end of me, but what a fun way to go."

 

Furthermore...

 

"So, how many is this for you? Seven? Eight?"

 

"How many what?"

 

"Girlfriends."

 

"Oh, the girls here are awesome, but they're not girlfriend material."

 

"Really? There's no one you want to get to know better?"

 

"Of course, but in different ways. See, June is WILD and I'd love to really let my hair down with her one-on-one sometime, so she's like a fuck buddy. And I have a genuine sisterhood building with Zinnia and I'm totally angling for more alone time with her. So...she's family...and I already know you approve of me fucking my sisters 😉"

 

Annabelle sends a winky face with a tongue out emoji in return.

 

And several seconds after...

 

"As a general rule, I would say that sister shagging is a big no-no, but...let's put it this way...since I BRIEFLY believed you and Giselle to be sisters AND I knew you were getting it on, if Giselle was your sister, I would entirely understand her not being able to keep her clothes on around you."

 

I giggle, "That's pretty much what Giselle says, too."

 

"And for the record...same goes if you and I were sisters. Or Zinnia."

 

"So, basically...boinking your sister is okay as long as I'm your sister."

 

"Pretty much."

 

I chuckle at our repartee and work another succulent bite of peach around my mouth.

 

Annabelle then queries, "So...which girl will you grant the gift of your graces upon next?"

 

I take no indecisiveness before responding, "I'm considering paying Zinnia's mom a visit."

 

"WOW! I was not expecting that. You're gonna seduce the birthday girl's mother??"

 

"We've been flirting. I think she may be into me."

 

"Well, who wouldn't be? Dang, you're my hero."

 

"I'm just me. Poor dear's been trapped up in her room all day. At the very least she needs me to bring her a slice of pie."

 

"Yeah, she does 😉"

 

"You're SO BAD!"

 

"I just work with what you give me."

 

I shovel another huge forkful into my piehole.

 

"Welp, I'd better stop ignoring this long line of customers."

 

"Annabelle!"

 

"Kidding! I can do it all. I'm your manic pixie dreamgirl, remember?"

 

"Fairly sure I said my Ice Cream Queen Teenage Dreamgirl, but yeah. Clunky title, I know. I'll work on it."

 

"I like it! I'm just thrilled to be anything to you."

 

"You're so much."

 

"Anyway, I mustn't keep you from your conquest of foxy 35-year-old moms."

 

"She's 29."

 

"Too young. In my fantasy she's gotta be at least three times your age."

 

"Just try and save your daydreaming for after-work recreation, `kay?"

 

"No promises."

 

My heart is brimming with so much love for this girl but I stop short of a full disclosure and say, "I adore you."

 

"And I cherish you. Come home to me soon?"

 

"Can't wait <3 <3 <3"

 

Now that I've realized I'm in love with no fewer than three women, I wonder if I have the same infinite capacity for love as Giselle. I cut a piece of peach pie for the next person who could easily win my heart and add a brownie that Giselle baked the night before for good measure.

 

The living room is still too chock full of coital moaning for me to safely extract my pink babydoll negligee undetected, so I head up to the guest room to adorn my prepubescent form with the elegant matching lavender nightie. Then I meticulously remove all the neon scrunchies from my manga-inspired triple tails which leaves an unusual waviness to my typically straight scarlet hair.

 

Presently looking somehow equal parts fresh as a daisy and freshly fucked, I am ready to embrace my destiny as the taboo tether between mother and daughter.

 

Just as I traverse the hallway, I freeze at Chelsea's bedroom door when two giggly, naked figures scamper up the stairs. The curvy one in the lead, being Hannah, does not see me and disappears into her borrowed boudoir, but the slender good-time gal who follows, June, totally busts me.

 

I meet her expression of surprise with fluttering flirty fingers and then one raised in hush to my lips.

 

Full awareness of my imminent impropriety washes over her and her blushing body bounces at the delicious decadence of it all.

 

Hannah's unseen hand yanks June out of sight, and I return my attention to the final barrier between me and my heart's desire.

 

Rapping lightly on the door, my spirit swells when a sing-songy "Come iiiiiiiiiiin!" grants me entrance.

 

Upon opening the door, my proffered pastries immediately appear inadequate in comparison to the eye candy greeting my arrival.

 

The daintiest pair of crossed bare feet this side of, well...me, is the first confection to fill my vision. Then my eyes feast upon her spectacularly smooth legs followed by her trim upper body covered only by a yellow babydoll nightgown, the same one that welcomed me to her home just two days before.

 

Chelsea's apple-cheeked smile lights up as she sets down her hardcover copy of something called, "Waiting in the Wings."

 

"Virginia! To what do I owe this delightful diversion?"

 

Her breathtaking beauty and easy affability have scrubbed anything clever I might say from my brain.

 

I hold the plate aloft like a 50s carhop and commence with my straightforward reply: "Thought you could use a slice of peach pie...and some company?"

 

"Aren't you a darling?" Her impossibly soft hand brushes against mine as she takes the plate and begins to dig in.

 

I stand at the foot of the bed and allow myself to look lost and shy and a tiny bit mysterious, even though every impulse is urging me to jump her bones.

 

"Cat got your tongue?"

 

I shake my head.

 

"I just like watching you. You seem at a loss for words yourself. Weren't you expecting me?"

 

My turn to take her breath away. Chelsea's eyes smolder with the electrifying revelation, plus a touch of fear, that shit just got real.

 

"I'm just...perplexed with all the excitement going on, you want to hang out with a boring ol' grown-up."

 

"Come on, you've got to be the coolest mom ever."

 

"Oh? How so?"

 

"You serious? How many moms would let a bunch of wild lesbians take over her house for the weekend?"

 

"You're only young once. Is Zinnia having a good time?"

 

"The BEST."

 

"How wonderful," Chelsea sparkles. "Everyone's first time should be special."

 

Then she mutters under her breath, even though I can still understand her: "Goddess knows, mine wasn't. My first time with a boy, that is."

 

I park myself on the cheery mauve duvet right next to Chelsea.

 

"How about your first time with a girl?"

 

"My ONLY time with a girl was...pure magic. But I'm guessing you know that."

 

I nod with a guileful smirk.

 

Gazing up into her kind eyes for a long while, we both teem with tenacity but neither of us makes the first move.

 

Finally, I pet her shapely inner thigh and say, "Don't let me distract you from your book."

 

"Are you always this forward?"

 

"Only with boring, hot, single moms. You don't mind, do you?"

 

"No..." Her voice cracks at the most precious high-pitch. I've clearly found one of her sweet spots.

 

"Has no other girl ever turned your head?"

 

"Is there another girl as exquisite as Giselle...besides you?"

 

"I know one..."

 

I make no further advances save for my passive-aggressive come-hithering. If she wants me, she better come get me.

 

Chelsea is so fresh-faced and innocent right now; it makes me wonder if she's ever been this wholesome in her entire life. Even though she's well over 18 years my elder and way more experienced in almost every way, I'm the master of the Sapphic arts in this scenario – perhaps even moreso than Giselle was in Chelsea's last lesbian roll in the hay twelve years ago to the day – so I feel an extra responsibility to exercise a slow hand and show her the most special time of her life.

 

Her luminescent eyes inch nearer and nearer. The tickle of her blonde bangs on my forehead is our first contact. Then her silky button nose is next to mine. Her smiling lips brush against me in the faintest whisper of a kiss. And another. And another and another and another.

 

Five minutes go by like this.

 

Then her plump, pink lips press into me. I crane my neck to further push my punim into hers.

 

Ten more minutes pass.

 

I wrap my arms up behind her head to pull her even closer. I feel her cheekbones rise and her lips hum with mirthful lust.

 

Twenty minutes more of cheerfully chaste closed-mouthed kisses.

 

Chelsea breaks contact by mere millimeters to look at me in hazy, out-of-focus closeness. Her blurry, besotted features are the enduring image whenever I dream of her.

 

Her lips part ever so slightly and the velvety tip of her tongue emerges from time to time to taste my increasingly moistened mouth. Her eagerness mounts as her tongue darts in and out with more intensity, not caring a whit about hitting its target or not.

 

Our lips and tongues are all over the place when I firmly grip her nape to anchor myself for scooching into her lap and then straightening my legs to lie my full weight on top of her. This roughly amounting to only 55 pounds, it takes a matter of minutes to lazily crush my crush against her mountain of pillows.

 

Good thing I'm limber because we're not lying down so much as Chelsea is reclining with me atop her, back bent in urdhva mukha savanasana. I like this better than being completely horizontal since it feels like I'm filling in all her supple curves. Her arms encircle my waist and I melt into her safe, nurturing figure. With wide open mouths, our tongues frolic for the better part of an hour.

 

I could literally stay this way forever but the honeysuckle-scented goodies heaving beneath me are luring my attention. I kiss my way down her chin and delicate neck, slowing my pace even more once I enter her comforting cleavage. My nose nudges aside one lacy covering from her breast. I smile at her petite peak and perfectly pink areola.

 

I glance up briefly at Chelsea's sweet serenity before nuzzling all around her perfumed bosom and eventually drawing her malleable mammary into my mouth. I suck softly, then strongly, and everywhere in between, sometimes filling my entire mouth with boob, while other times just slurping upon the summit.

 

Nimbly nibbling on her now taut nipple paints a puerile expression upon Chelsea's face, giving the impression that she's the one who's eleven and making me out to be the accomplished adult all the more.

 

She looks so irresistibly cute, I push myself up for a playful smooch creating the bonus of enough space between us to hike up her lingerie. Sighing at the sight of her athletic abs, I begin to place lingering kisses all over her smooth skin.

 

I seize the opportunity to simultaneously slide off her matching yellow panties and I sniff my way down to her fragrant pubic hair. Settling onto my stomach with my front paws folding beneath me like a sphinx, I kick my mouthwatering feet in the air behind me and soak up an infinite eyeful of her beautiful blonde bush.

 

I search her eyes to make sure she's still okay with having a little girl frolicking in her womanly garden. Chelsea reaches forward to sweep a vagrant vermillion wisp away from my face and cups my cheek with her kind palm. Her graceful fingers guide me by the chin, bringing me closer and closer to her magnificent muff.

 

My warm lips make the acquaintance of her velvety vulva again and again with the same decadent dawdling as before, always staying fixed on her effervescent peepers.

 

When my kisses venture into the elaborate layers of her labia, her juices start to seep out substantially, so I must think fast in figuring out how to not waste a drop while also not using my tongue just yet. I smush my whole face over her opening so that the majority of her sweetness trickles down my throat, leaving any excess to marinate my chin and cheeks. Imagine how much girl gravy I'll soon be gobbling if this is the pre-orgasmic quantity she produces!

 

Chelsea has shifted so we are now completely eye level to one another without either of us needing to strain ourselves to keep our gazes locked. Halfway to heaven, she whispers sweet nothings to me that I can't entirely make out, but this is a close approximation:

 

"Oh, Virginia...do you know how long I've wanted to see your pretty green eyes looking upon me like this?"

 

In my mind, I answer "four months" since that's how long we've known each other, but I simply nod my humidified head.

 

"Or how much I needed to feel those soft lips all over me?"

 

My drunken eyelids remain at half-mast and can only bob up and down again in the affirmative as more ooze slips into my mouth.

 

"You do? Then you must know how I yearn for the gift of that young tongue up inside me?" It's adorable how both mother and daughter's drawls become more pronounced the thirstier they get.

 

Now that Chelsea has confessed her scandalous longing, I squint with a sly smirk and lay luxurious licks all along her silky thighs.

 

I'm at it so long, she asks, "You're not teasing me, are you?"

 

"Never. Just warming up my instrument."

 

"As any good dancer should," she approves.

 

My middle and index fingers pry apart the intricate folds of her labia and I peer down the pink passage.

 

"What a privilege," I exalt. "There's not an artist in all of history who could capture the breathtaking beauty of your vagina."

 

Chelsea's hand is compelled to cover her heart center.

 

"Oh, my darling girl..."

 

I take a deep waft of her intoxicating aroma and then I gently glide my tongue into her cozy canal. It is such a turn on to be exploring the channel that bore my newly chosen sister into this world. For all Chelsea knows, my face has already become friendly with her daughter's fair honey pot, and not just my feet, so it's exponentially more exciting that she's so keen to keep my cunnilingual kindnesses in the family.

 

Instead of thrusting my tongue in and out, I use my muscle to search for her g-spot. Upon finding it, I lightly graze its roughness repeatedly with the tip of my tongue.

 

Chelsea slaps the mattress rhythmically.

 

"Heavens to Betsy, this child knows what she's doing!"

 

Her breathing goes all choppy and she grasps two fistfuls of bedspread. I know she's close when her legs elevate to a 45-degree angle and stiffen for almost a whole minute.

 

Release finally comes and her limbs stay aloft in a toe-curling, trembling climax. I drink up all the pussy potion and deliver my dripping lips to hers to share of my bounty.

 

Chelsea courteously tries out her own flavor but the persuasive tapping at my bare buttocks clearly suggests she's after a different taste sensation altogether.

 

I waste no time in hopping up to straddle her face and she just as ardently dives in with both lips and tongue. She instantly invents an ingenious rotating technique that somehow gets her lips going one way and her tongue circling elsewhere, all the while maintaining a vacuum seal and triggering every erogenous zone at once.

 

This is so incredibly shocking, I can't help myself from rattling the headboard and shouting, "Oh, fuck, CHELSEA! Just like THAT, Chelsea...FUCK!!" as I come and come and come into her amazing mouth.

 

Sweating and shaking, I crumble on top of her, kissing her gooey face all over in gratitude.

 

I snuggle into her shoulder and we hold each other until our breath evens out.

 

"Chelsea? I have no intention of calling it quits, but would you mind if I made a brief phone call?"

 

"Oh, of course, doll! I'd almost forgotten I was making love with a young girl. You must need to check in with your mom."

 

"Well, no...I need to call 911 to report a crime. Apparently, there's a drop-dead gorgeous champion muff diver who has only been with two girls in the past 12 years."

 

Chelsea bursts into a blushing laugh.

 

"Considering they were both children, perhaps it's best to leave the authorities out of it."

 

"Oh...good call." My body broils with abashment over my coy courting taking a dark turn.

 

At least Chelsea is still laughing.

 

"Thank you, though...you're so sweet."

 

I kiss her temple and shift myself down so I can interlock my legs with hers.

 

"Perhaps making up for lost time is a better way toward justice..." I push up onto my palms and begin to dance a slow and sensual bachata against her creamy coochie. With mounting confidence, I bolt upright unsupported and run my fingers through my hair like a spicy bailadora.

 

My swaying hips arouse such a look of lust in Chelsea and she grinds her furry golden pussy into my young cunt.

 

"Let's get a good peek at you, my love..." whispers my breathy dance partner, tugging at the hem of my nightie.

 

Raising my arms in a dramatic flourish, Chelsea whisks off my garment with a delighted gasp at my utter nudity.

 

"You are stunning!"

 

All I can do to not burst into tears over being praised by such a goddess is scrunch my shoulders and flash a demure, closed-lipped smile.

 

My impulse to speed up into a salsa or a mambo in this moment is tempered by Chelsea's soft moans and amorous eyes. I keep my movements mellow, although no less steamy, and I lift one of her legs to make a tipi out of her knee so I can lean against it and chuckle to myself coquettishly.

 

"What has you so amused?"

 

"Oh...just daydreaming that if you wait another dozen years between lesbian trysts, you'll be 41 and still a total babe."

 

"And my lover then will still be eleven," she mumbles with a shame-tinted, lecherous smirk.

 

"So, you do admit you like `em young!"

 

"Many a grown woman has tried to get with this to no avail, so my track record speaks for itself."

 

"Mmm...lucky me. But I think you can chalk it up to the quality of your companions, as you've said."

 

"Amen, sister! I love seeing the emergent savoir-faire in you. You were such a shy little thing when we met."

 

I hug her thigh to my flat chest.

 

"I'm still shy. I save all my wildness for the stage and the bedroom. And Giselle's fabulosity has a way of rubbing off on a girl."

 

"What a way with words you have. I hope to be blessed with some of your nobility."

 

I'm suddenly swept away by the heat kindling betwixt our clitorises.

 

"Oh, baby, you're amazing! How ever did you and Giselle hold off on having your fling for two years?? I could barely wait two months before throwing myself at her!"

 

"Ooo, keep calling me baby, I love that! Quite simply, I was never single...until I was. I would have succumbed to her charms sooner but, despite all the indiscretions inflicted upon me, I was always faithful."

 

Her back arches a little, signaling the oncoming rapture.

 

"And besides," she continues. "No one person can tame me and that wouldn't be fair to Giselle. She's the type of girl you stay with forever, and I'm not the marrying kind."

 

My imagination wanders to visions of being wedded to Giselle...and Autumn.

 

Chelsea's surprisingly incendiary orgasm launches her into half-wheel pose and I have to stand to keep contact with her vulva. My own thunderbolt crackles through me in the wake of Chelsea's and we sizzle together for sixty solid seconds at least.

 

After collapsing into a heap, a feral head of blonde hair pops up.

 

"That's it, you tender little morsel...I'm gonna git ya!"

 

She advances toward me on all fours as I back away.

 

"Uhh...Chelsea?"

 

She snares me by the ankle and flips me ass over elbows. Her nose hovers above my butthole, inhaling zestily.

 

"Mmm...the scent of an angel."

 

"And the tongue of Cybele!" I squeal as she bathes my asshole with her hot saliva.

 

I gnaw on my finger in a futile attempt to keep my laughter inside, but of course a few tee-hees manage to escape. Chelsea's burrowing tongue seems to be trying to push unhinged joy out of me and assuredly my progressively spit-soaked digit ejects from my lips amidst a swell of burbling giggles. Before too long, I'm cackling like a maniac and kicking the air. I want to squirt so badly but my last ounce of decorum allows me to redirect my outburst:

 

"I CAN'T BELIEVE CHELSEA IS TONGUE BLASTING MY BUTTHOLE! I'M IN A DREAM!!!!!!!!!!!"

 

"Oh, this is real, my love. You've awakened the beast."

 

Her voice drips like calmly oozing molasses but I know it's a trap and I dare not look into her undoubtedly savage eyes lest our anal excavation ends too soon.

 

Chelsea presses down to the lowest possible point without penetrating and my legs begin to quiver.

 

"Uhhhhhnnnnnn...soooooooooooo deeeeeeeeeeeep...fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck..."

 

She rubs my thighs until they chill out and licks soothingly all up and down my asscrack. Then she lays her whole mouth over my anus and just goes berserk making the most uncivilized grunting and slobbering noises I've ever heard outside of a zoo or a nature documentary.

 

A tingling in my toes heralds the looming orgasm to end all orgasms. Time to face my tormenter...

 

As anticipated, she is more creature than corn-fed cutie now. I'm thrillingly frightened as her ferocious blue eyes tear me asunder.

 

"Oh, my fucking goddesses, Chelsea...you're a PSYCHO!!!"

 

My body implodes with all the force of a supernova.

 

Chelsea detaches from my asshole, panting fiercely.

 

"Warned ya!"

 

I start to cry softly.

 

"I'm so happy..."

 

"Not as happy as you're gonna be!" She slithers back and shoves me flat onto the bed, mounting my twat and humping furiously like the animal she's become. In one swift motion, off comes Chelsea's negligee and I finally get the full view of her luscious body.

 

I squeeze two wads of bedding in my fists and hang on for dear life, mouth gleefully agape at the barbaric spectacle of Chelsea unleashed.

 

"Omigosh, baby, yes...fuck me, Chelsea! FUCK ME!"

 

Her thrusts grow mightier and she clamps my elevated legs together and tongues my soles all over.

 

"FUCK, YES!" I squeak in my highest register. "LICK MY FEET, CHELSEA!!!!!"

 

We crash our coochies together in a screeching climax.

 

I toss my arms to the sky and cheer, "Crazy girls are the best!"

 

She looks as if she's about to visit some new depravity upon me when I slide beneath her undercarriage like an auto mechanic with an "Oh, no, you don't!"

 

I seal my lips around her clit and lick like mad.

 

A minute or so later, her hips writhe rhythmically.

 

"That's it, baby. Fuck my mouth."

 

With far more finesse than her former fornication, Chelsea sambas over my tongue and luxuriously kneads her breasts. Her choreography intensifies until she's once again pounding her pussy into my punim without pity.

 

Her powerful quads quake colossally before collapsing to recover in the fetal position. This leaves her perfect posterior prone to plundering so I swoop in to sniff and snack on her unshielded starfish.

 

Her delicate feet are curled in so close, I only need to turn my head slightly to breathe in their bouquet.

 

I soon stumble upon a way to marry these two delicacies when my tongue idly draws an unbroken line from asshole to arches, so I dreamily make the journey again and again.

 

Chelsea's mellow moaning and gentle giggles are all I have to go on in gauging how much pleasure she is receiving until she regains enough strength to prop herself up to look back at me over her shoulder. I meet her gaze just above the horizon of her curvy hip and she returns my loving leer with all the kindness one should favor upon an eleven-year-old girl dutifully eating out the ass of a prima ballerina goddess.

 

She brushes a couple more errant strands away from my brow and strokes my temple with the backs of her silky fingers.

 

"My beauty..." she purrs.

 

We maintain expressive eye contact for the entire three-quarters of an hour wherein I domesticate her by paying tribute to her fragrant feet and aromatic asshole, awarding a baker's dozen of quietly orgasmic accolades.

 

Chelsea pulls me close for some wet, sloppy smooches. Leaning over her recumbent figure, my thigh is treated to the froth my mouth left behind in her, well...behind, and I conjure my most ingenious innovation of my young life.

 

After drooling in between her creamy cheeks for additional lubrication, I face away doggystyle and bond with her, butthole to butthole.

 

"Oh, Virginia..."

 

I look back just in time to see her head reeling from the overwhelming freshness of this feeling. Every inch of my skin is so sensitized, it seems like I could come from the slightest tap anywhere on my body, and I wonder if Chelsea's experience is the same.

 

"Pull my hair?"

 

Chelsea's face lights up at the invitation. She reaches forward grandly and winds a length of my strawberry mane around her fingers and wrist and yanks hard.

 

I gallop gaily against her glutes.

 

"Such a good little dirty girl! You love this, don't you?"

 

"Mm-hm," is all I can muster in my inarticulate muddle.

 

"You're just a meek, freckle-faced youngin on the streets and a freaky wildcat in the sheets, aren't ya?"

 

"Yes, ma'am!"

 

"I beg your pardon?" Chelsea tugs roughly. "I've never been a `ma'am' in my whole life!"

 

"Sorry! Ummm...miss?"

 

"Darn tootin'! Forever a miss and open for business!"

 

"Oh, come on! We're not that far down south!"

 

Chelsea gasps and thrashes my ass.

 

"Tryin' to tell me how Southern I can be?? I'll tan your hide, Miss Missy!"

 

"Ah, fuck, yeah!"

 

She starts whupping my butt good.

 

"Oh, so, THIS is how you like it?" She gets in a few more stinging licks. "FILTHY...LITTLE...CUTIE!!"

 

One more vicious whack and I'm there...ALL the way there. My pussy squirts buckets of burning babe broth all over Chelsea's svelte blonde physique.

 

Both pairs of my cheeks blaze with humiliation.

 

At first Chelsea is speechless. Then she rises to her knees and melodramatically places her hands on her hips.

 

"Well...someone's been holding out on me. There's only one thing I do with girls who keep secrets."

 

I brace myself for another beautiful beating, but instead my tushy is treated to Chelsea's tongue tucking in for a spell.

 

I wiggle my patootie and sing, "Chelsea's obsessed with my asshole!"

 

"Guilty as charged," she drones, huskily.

 

Chelsea wiles away another hour in my anus and I bless her with seven more squirts to the face.

 

"Best spa treatment I've ever had," she rhapsodizes.

 

I moan peacefully as she marks a trail of kisses from the small of my back up to my shoulder blades. Her arms envelop me like a snug cocoon.

 

"I want to keep you but I'm sure the girls are missing you."

 

"Nah, they have each other."

 

"I have you and I'm missing you already."

 

I plant feathery kisses on the tender underside of Chelsea's forearm and then I look into her lovestruck face.

 

"Thanks for sharing your wild side with me."

 

Chelsea playfully rubs her nose against mine.

 

"Back atcha, princess!"

 

We lose ourselves in ten more minutes of warm, moist tongue kisses.

 

"Okay, run along, now, little temptress...vamoose!"

 

Chelsea spanks my bottom, launching me off the bed.

 

I find my carelessly discarded babydoll and take longer than anyone reasonably should in covering myself with a single tiny frock.

 

All the while we watch each other with presumably the same thought racing through our minds: sheer giddy incredulity that we actually just had earth-shattering sex.

 

I wave a flirty "bye" to Chelsea and all she can do is giggle and kick her legs like a schoolgirl.

 

Somehow, Chelsea's cast-off yellow panties are at my feet and I snatch them up, declaring in a whisper, "I'm keeping these!"

 

Her jaw drops, aghast at my sauciness, and then grins and hammers the mattress with her feet.

 

I make my not-so-speedy getaway and slink down the hall, still feeling the alchemy of our coupling in my bones.

 

The very present squeals from Chelsea's bed chamber ring through my ears, turning what should have been a walk of shame into a walk of fame.

 

It's been a truly momentous day in the annals of my lesbian odyssey...and I have a sneaking suspicion it isn't over yet...

 

(to be continued...)

 

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