Quinne's Domination

Amy stood daydreaming in the classroom. The religious instructor droned on and on to Amy's students about the morality of sexuality.

"The devil will take your idle fingers and criss-cross your body with sinful desire! You must resist his wicked attempts to twist you to his perversity!" he shrieked.

Someone ought to twist you and criss-cross your body, Amy thought. Maybe a solid rodgering would take that sanctimonious stick out of your ass.

Amy had been working at the conservative Catholic school for almost six years now, and aside from the religious components to the day-to-day, it was a good gig. It paid well, and the fervour and zealous nature of culture meant she had to do very little in the way of behaviour management. She could teach her science and maths classes as she saw fit. Amy had to pay some lip service to the Catholic beliefs there, with the occasional comment about science's lack of spirituality, but for the most part she was free to do what she liked.

This was not one of the things she liked.

She had pastoral care of a class for the last period of every day, meaning that she simply supervised a group for about an hour. In this hour, the chaplain came in to speak to the students about what they were doing wrong with their lives and how to be less evil little sinners. Amy had grown up believing these things, but hearing a middle aged man scream at teenagers about things he clearly didn't know anything about made her feel like stabbing him in the face with a crucifix. Life just seemed too complex for his banal platitudes to be right.

She tried to let the toxic words pass over her and remember the pleasure from yesterday. Amy had woken up confused and half naked, and within an hour had two of the most intense orgasms of her life - from another woman. Amy only had a couple of (relatively) chaste relationships with men in her university years and had always considered herself to be heterosexual. However, looking at Quinne's taut skin and firm musculature as water cascaded over her perky breasts...well, Amy thought she might need to rethink her identity. At least a bit. The memory of Quinne's tongue dancing across her clit...

"Boys! Do not be fooled! A woman who touches herself defiles us all with her presence. If she rings the devil's doorbell, you must not answer!" 

The drivel spewing from this idiot's mouth was almost more than she could stand, but luckily the school bell's ringing prevented her from saying something she might have regretted later. Amy dismissed her class and did her best to ignore the obnoxious pastor on the way out. She had something better to look forward to.

After their little encounter in the shower, they had gotten dressed and stood for a moment considering one another. Amy was towelling off her hair when Quinne had sidled up to her and squeezed her ass. She squealed in surprise and batted away her hand.

"Let me finish drying off, would you?" Amy chastised.

Quinne just grinned at her.

"Why would I do that when you've got such a nice round ass? I just want to touch it!"

She reached around to touch her again, but Amy smacked her hand again.

"How would you feel if I wanted to fondle your body all the time?" Amy asked.

Quinne just shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

With that, the taller woman swivelled on the balls of her feet and waggled her ass at her. Amy couldn't help but crack a smile at the display.

"That's better," Quinne said. "You're so much prettier when you smile."

Amy blushed. She wasn't used to hearing compliments, and between Quinne's words and physical attention, she felt a little overwhelmed.

"Uh...thanks," she managed.

Quinne suddenly pulled Amy in close and gave her a full, deep kiss. When they parted, Amy found herself breathing faster than a moment ago. She tried to speak but Quinne held a finger up to her lips.

"Be still. I have things to do but we're only getting started. I want more, but I realise this might be too much for you," Quinne said.

Amy looked into the hazel eyes of the toned woman; she saw a hunger there, but also something else. It wasn't just a lust that she saw in Quinne, but a drive, a wilfulness, a compulsion. Amy felt a thrill of excitement with a mix of fear. 

Quinne continued - "Here's the deal. If this was just a bit of after-party fun, that's fine. But if you'd like something more intense -"she gestured towards the front door - "that'll be open tomorrow night for you."

36 hours had passed since Amy received that invitation. She initially dismissed it, and was almost inclined to pretend it had never happened. Amy's previous sexual forays had ended poorly and barely even masturbated anymore since her last breakup. Her ex-boyfriend was a jerk who had slapped her after a session of heavy petting - they had been making out in his bedroom, hands excitedly exploring the other's body. After rubbing her hands against his pants for less than a minute, she suddenly found her hand covered in a sticky patch. When she'd asked him if he'd come already, he grew red with rage and backhanded her. 

Amy's previous boyfriend hadn't been much better. His trigger went off with even less effort, and afterwards he'd tell her 'he was done'. She'd be left frustrated and angry. Amy was not inclined to risk further humiliation or cruelty from selfish pricks.

However, the more Amy thought about it, the more her curiosity was aroused. Quinne didn't just want to be pleasured - she wanted Amy's pleasure. Quinne had fingerfucked her and eaten her out just to see Amy come. She had to admit that there was a satisfaction in watching the other girl orgasm too, and she wondered what Quinne meant at the end of the shower -

"I'll just have to find some other way to fuck you."

Amy stopped for a moment as she walked out of the school, feeling a shiver run down her spine. 

Time to find out what she meant.

Dusk crept around the corners of the yard as Amy approached the house. She hadn't been paying much attention when she'd visited the first time around, but all in all, it was pretty impressive. A modern, high-ceilinged affair with wide rectangular windows. She could see into this house from the road, though there didn't appear to be anyone inside. Amy stepped along an orange terracotta tiled pathway that led along to the white wooden front door. There was no doorknob, no handle or any kind of buzzer. She reached her hand up to knock on the door when she noticed that the door was ajar - it was just slightly out of the jamb to allow the first person by easy access.

Amy pushed the door open and called into the house.

"Quinne?"

No answer. She did her best to peer around the living room that connected to the front door, but couldn't see anyone from this angle. 

"It's Amy," she said, taking a step through the doorway. "You know, from yesterday?"

Despite it being the early part of the evening, the house was dark inside. A row of small incandescent lamps provided the only source of illumination within. The lights traced a clear pathway through the house towards a room in the back; Amy shut the door behind her, careful not to let it slam, and pulled her shoes off. She curled her toes as they met the cold tiled floor, but straightened them out after several seconds. After standing all day in a classroom, the coolness felt wonderful against her delicate toes.

The row of lights took her through the living room, past the doorways to the kitchen on the right and the bathroom on the left, towards the very rear of the house. Chrome fixtures glinted in the soft glow of the lamps.

Amy found herself at the entrance to the main bedroom, and she called out again.

"Quinne?"

Amy walked up to the bedroom, looking inside, and gasped. The room was absolutely gorgeous - lush white carpet, black velvet drapery, oak drawers, and a magnificent mahogany bed with Kashmir blankets. A lamp hung on each wall; each with a flickering quality that must've been candles rather than bulbs. She walked up to the bed and stroked the divan with her hand. The fabric felt wonderful against her skin.

She looked around the room and suddenly noticed several devices hanging from the mahogany bedhead - leather looking straps with metal studs, several plastic cylinders, and an unmistakable pair of handcuffs.

Amy had done a little bit of BDSM with her second boyfriend. Well, it could be charitably called BDSM. He had gotten himself a little pair of plastic handcuffs from the local toy store and had asked Amy if she was up for something kinky. She was intrigued and had let him cuff her to his bed. It wasn't an enjoyable experience however; she wasn't sure what to expect but he had simply placed his penis in her mouth, gyrating his hips for a minute until he came. The jerk had gotten a smug look on his face and stated that 'maybe I'll leave you there until I want to come again'. Amy had flexed her wrists and broken the cheap cuffs, pushing him off her head and then spitting out his semen on the bed. He made a yelping noise but she had walked out of his house and his life - she wasn't going to be used like some kind of fuck-toy.

Quinne had demonstrated that she was different though - Amy wasn't sure exactly what she was after just yet, but Quinne clearly cared about more than self-gratification.

Amy walked up the bedhead and picked up the handcuffs. They were a heavy steel affair, with a serious looking hole that must have fitted a big key. 

I wouldn't be able to break out of these things, Amy mused.

"Like the look of those things?" a voice behind her asked.

Amy jumped at the sound and whirled around. Her jaw slackened when she saw Quinne. The tall woman had her shoulder length brunette hair tied in a tight ponytail. She wore a tight, form-fitting black leotard, dark purple stilettos and a golden mask that covered her eyes. Quinne's arms and legs glistened slightly; she must have lightly oiled those muscular limbs before coming in. The soft lighting in the room made her appear to be a powerful gymnast after a workout. Moist, lithe, athletic. Amy had never seen someone look so attractive before.

"Your presence here means that you're looking for something deeper."

It wasn't a question. Quinne strode up to Amy next to the bed and stood in front of her, toe to toe. Quinne seemed to tower over her - Amy found herself shrinking away from the giantess, but the tall woman reached out and tenderly held her chin.

"I...well the other day...you just..." Amy stammered. Her heart raced. The girl flustered her so easily and she kept talking like an idiot. Quinne just looked into her eyes. Amy stopped and collected her thoughts.

"What can you do?" Amy asked. She pointed to the cuffs. "Is that it?"

Amy tried to sound disinterested, as if it was a ho-hum, pedestrian activity. Quinne leaned in until she was almost nose to nose with her; Amy found her smell intoxicating. She smelled nothing like other women, who normally used sickly sweet floral perfumes. Quinne was had a subtle but powerful scent; crisp, fresh and invigorating. She would call it a masculine smell, though most men she'd encountered used overwhelming and obnoxious.

After staring closely at her for a moment, Quinne leaned around to her ear and moved in even closer until lips brushed the edges of Amy's ear.

"You aren't ready for that yet."

The words slithered into her ear and Amy shuddered involuntarily. Seductive sounds tickled her brain.

"We've got to sensitize your body first," Quinne whispered. "Then we'll move onto heightening your other senses."

Quinne leaned down further and Amy felt the woman's hot breath on her neck. Strong hands caressed each side of her body and ran the length her clothes, searching her contours. Amy had freshened up after work, but she still wore her teaching clothes - a plain white blouse and undershirt, full skirt and underwear. Quinne's hands traced a path along her back and down her ass. As the hands reached the bottom edge of her skirt, Quinne gently bit into the side of her neck. Amy gasped, and revelled in the soft pain of teeth on her neck.

"Don't get too excited just yet," Quinne teased. "I've got big plans for you."

With that, she lifted her head to Amy's and kissed her hard. Amy felt herself melting under Quinne's firm embrace, barely feeling hands unzipping the back of her skirt. Quinne bit down onto Amy's lower lip, and pulled away just a bit. Amy inhaled sharply at the unexpected pain, but again felt a thrill of excitement at the unexpected sensation. 

Amy was encircled by the taller woman's arms. She craned her neck up and tried to kiss Quinne herself; she was met with another enthusiastic caress of soft lips on hers. Amy pulled back this time and felt her skirt fall to the ground. She felt a hand firmly grip her ass; Quinne stroked her across her cheeks. She made round circles with her hands and, occasionally, a finger would slide under her panties and rub her bare skin.

Quinne stopped rubbing and forcefully spun Amy around; she overbalanced slightly and steadied herself by planting both hands down on the bed. Quinne leaned over the top of her, and for a moment Amy thought she was going to get it from behind. However, she felt fingers searching up her ass and along the hem of her blouse. She felt it being tugged upward; she stood up straight and held her arms high as the garment was pulled over her head.

Amy stood half naked in the dimly lit room, wearing only her mismatched white bra and black panties. When the day had started, she was still uncertain as to whether she wanted to go to Quinne's or not, but had prepared for it nonetheless by wearing her best underwear. Unfortunately for Amy, her best bra was a white push-up that gave her a noticeable cleavage, and her best panties were a black lacy number. She suddenly grew insecure about their lack of mutual functioning, wishing that she'd worn pantyhose instead.

Quinne reached for the clasp on Amy's bra and unfastened it. Amy turned back to face the assertive woman, cupping the bra while Quinne pulled its straps off. The garment fell to the floor; Amy instinctively covered herself with her hands but Quinne pulled her hands away. Amy fidgeted uneasily as she was looked up and down.

"You've got a gorgeous body, you know that?" Quinne purred. "Perfectly shaped."

Amy blushed with embarrassment.

"I don't! My skin's all pale, and my boobs are different sizes, and I..." Amy began to stammer. Quinne put a finger up against her lips, silencing her.

"We're going to take all that nervous, insecure energy of yours and put in to better use," Quinne said.

Amy looked at her with confusion. "Just what do you...?"

Quinne walked over to the small table next to the bed and opened the drawer. She pulled out a black satin piece of fabric. She swaggered back towards Amy, hips swaying from side to side. 

Amy watched with piqued interest as Quinne unfurled the fabric; it appeared to be nothing else than a long, thin, rectangular cloth. Quinne held it up in front of Amy's face, smiling, and it suddenly dawned on her what Quinne planned.

"You want me blindfolded?" Amy asked nervously.

Quinne smiled even more broadly and began to wrap the cloth around Amy's face. She found herself in complete darkness; Amy shivered involuntarily despite the slight warmth of the bedroom air. The satin felt smooth and cool on her face, and she reached up to stroke the fabric with her fingers. A voice broke the sightless silence.

"Did you know that when a human being loses one of their senses, the others become more sensitive in order to improve their chances of survival?" 

Quinne's voice had a low, husky quality. It wasn't breathy or shaky; it sounded calm, confident, deliberate. Amy felt the blindfold tighten around her eyes, and then the other woman's warmth seemed to slip away.

"This would normally take months to take effect. The brain needs some time to fully adapt to having lesser input."

The voice now came from the opposite side of the room. Amy hadn't heard footsteps or felt Quinne's movement through the air - despite her tall stature, she could be very svelte when she wanted to. She concentrated and could just make out the opening and closing of another drawer.

Quinne spoke again - "In the right conditions however, and the right combination of sensations, we can push up a person's sensitivity to those levels for a little while."

Amy stood still, arms by her sides and acutely aware that she was naked except for her black panties. Cool air suddenly blew on the backs of her ear and Amy shuddered. Warm hands touched her from behind along her back, slid sensuously to the top of her shoulders and then slowly down both sides of her body. The hands reached from behind to her stomach, and traced a path along the underside of her breasts.

A voice whispered from mere centimetres away from her ears.

"And for that, you'll need to be unable to move."

Before she could react, the gentle hands caressing her swept down, and in one smooth motion hoisted her off the ground. Amy squealed and flailed her legs, unable to find solid ground or wriggle free. She felt herself swinging through the air and continued to shriek.

Quinne made a hushing sound and hugged Amy close to her body; the combination quieted her for a moment. She was laid gently on the bed with Quinne holding Amy's arms high above her body. 

"Lie still," Quinne commanded.

Amy lay flat against the bed, her arms reaching up to the bedhead. She could feel Quinne's warm body move up the bed and could hear a metallic clacking. Cold steel bindings wrapped around her wrists. Panic rose in Amy's chest for a moment and attempted to pull away. The effort was futile however - she could feel she was cuffed to the bedhead and her wrists weren't going to pull free of these restraints. Amy began to hyperventilate.

"Quinne! Let me go! I don't want..." she exclaimed, muscles tensing and back arching.

A hand touched down on her naked belly and a finger gently pressed on Amy's lips. Quinne made a soft shushing sound.

"Be calmed. You won't be hurt. This is all part of the fun, my lovely," Quinne said.

Amy breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth. The smell of Quinne's perfume came back to her and she relaxed her back, sinking down on the soft duvet. She pulled again on the handcuffs, carefully this time, feeling the restraint's firm tug on her wrists. The panic was subsiding, but her excitement remained high - in fact, she felt a warm burbling in her stomach and adrenaline begin to course throughout her veins. The hand on her naked belly flexed and fingertips made lazy circles around her navel. The finger on her lips slid down off her mouth and trace a line down her exposed neck towards her breasts.

"I want you to describe what you're feeling," Quinne said in a low husky tone. "Focusing on the sensation will heighten your experience of it."

"But...that sounds embarrassing," Amy responded.

The higher hand began to caress Amy's soft breasts, drawing a slow path through her cleavage, around, and back up to her collarbone. 

"There's no one here but you and me. Tell me what you feel," Quinne said, more firmly this time.

Amy attempted to look down at her body out of habit; the blindfold was still in place and she was in complete darkness. She breathed in, letting air fill her lungs and she could feel delicate fingertips dancing on her body.

"I feel..." Amy took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Surging energy. I feel your fingertips on my stomach and my neck. I feel the air on my body."

"Does anything feel different to normal?" Quinne asked.

Amy ruminated on this for a moment.

"I can feel everything on and around my body, and I'm aware that I'm nude except for my panties. I...hmm."

Amy could feel a smile coming across her.

- the end -

Pussylove

Acting Persons: Monica (36), business-woman; Cindy (18), cheerleader

Monica gave the 18-year-old, blonde teenage-girl the one hundred dollars. The so innocent and shy looking young girls hands were shaking a bit. Monica always loved that shy excitement at her teenage amateur hookers. 

Monica was a 36-year-old consultant. She was in a high-paid management position. Due to her job she had to travel a lot. The last two weeks she again had been staying in a lonely hotel room in Atlantic City. Just opposite of her hotel there had been a kind of diner where one of the cheerleading-teams met after their training. 

Monica was about 1,75 meters in seize and was doing a lot of sports, so that her body was still in very good shape and she was rather slim. Also her breasts were not big, but still quite firm for her age. She had dark brown hair that was going down a bit over her shoulders. Her face had the expression of an experienced, but still younger looking, beautiful managing-lady, that obviously took very well care of her body. The 36-year-old woman had always been a lesbian since she was a teenage girl. Due to her job she had no fixed relationship. She loved young looking teenage-girls that had no lesbian experiences so far. 

For some days Monica had watched that blonde cheerleader. With about 1,65 meters, she was quite smaller than herself. The girl had a very white, soft looking skin. She had blonde, long hair. Her face was very pretty and had a young and innocent look. If Monica had not heard it during the girls conversation once, she would had guessed that the girl was not older than 16. But she was 18. She had a very slim, tender body and her tits seemed to be rather small too. 

After watching her for 5 evenings Monica had finally followed her to the washing room. She had just stepped behind her and without even greeting her she had said:

"These are one hundred dollars!", she had waved with the money in her hand to the teenage-girl. I will give you these and another one hundred if you just let me lick your sweet pussy to a wonderful orgasm. Nothing more, nothing else. So decide now, or I will be away in half a minute."

The girl had blushed and reddened. Then she had nodded. 

"O.K."

On the way to Monica's hotel the excited girl had told that her name was Cindy and that she was no lesbian at all, but that she would do it for the money. Monica had smiled.

Now the girl was already stripping of her clothes. She did not dare to look up while doing so; she was a bit ashamed of what she was doing here. 

The 18-year-old girl was looking wonderful. Monica told her to spread on the hotel bed and the girl followed her wish. 

Monica had stripped to and was now only wearing her panties. Her nipples were rock hard due to the excitement and the arousal that the naked, young body on her body caused in her. 

The shy and excited Cindy had closed her eyes. Monica was smiling again. With her hands she spread the girls legs even further. Her sweet, young-looking crotch-area was a perfect dream of pussy. She was completely shaved. 

For some time Monica just took in the beautiful, highly erotic sight of the teenage pussy in front of her. Maybe that was the most beautiful pussy the 36-year-old lesbian had ever seen.

The perfect, white skin, no hair on her mount of venus, her cunt lips perfects drawn and her little clit hardly visible now. 

Monica laid herself between Cindy's spread legs and slowly brought her face closer and closer to the wonderful treasure. She moved her hands softly beneath the girls wonderful, firm arse-cheeks and lifted her a bit, massaging her arse-cheeks while doing so. 

She took in the fresh smile of the teenage-pussy. Cindy had shaved after the training less than one hour ago and was still smelling of the soap she had used. Monica loved the smell, but she knew that she would love even much more the smell, that would soon be brought forward – the smell of lust. 

Monica planted a first very soft and tender kiss onto the girl's pussy. Her lips were hardly touching Cindy's beautiful cunt. Slowly she kissed her way softly down her slit. She started at her completely hairless mount of venus. She kissed every inch of the teenager's soft skin. Gently and tenderly her lips were touching her skin, moving down with every kiss and the down her wonderful slit, till she almost reached the pretty ring of her anus. Monica would have loved to kiss that wonderful arse too, but that had not been agreed. 

When the woman kissed her way up the slit again, she recognized that the teenage – girl started becoming moist. Her lips took in the first scent of the girl's pussy juices. Monica kept kissing, slow and soft and with each kiss she felt that her little hooker was becoming more and more wet. 

She heard that Cindy was starting to breath harder and she saw her bite her lips. Her pussy was really blooming now. It shimmered with her wetness and now already had the wonderful smell of lust and sex. It was a wonderful smell. 

Monica could not resist any longer and she now also used her tongue on the girl's pussy. She took a long lick from Cindy's anus up to her mount of venus, taking in the wonderful taste of the young girls pretty pussy. She tasted perfect. Monica had always adored the taste of a fresh pussy, but that was really perfect. 

Eagerly the older lesbian started licking the girl's pussy. Her tongue became faster and harder. And the 18-year-old cheerleader obviously was aroused by what the 36-year-old businesswoman was doing to her. She moaned loud now. Her eyes still closed. 

Monica's tongue was in between the girl's wonderful cunt-lips now, drying to enter her pussy as deep as possible. Cindy's tasty love-juices were flowing freely now. 

The teenager's clit was already hard and swollen. Monica circled it with her experienced tongue. She teased it, licked around it, kissed it softly and sucked it into her eager mouth. Then her tongue licked up and down her slit again. She ate her pussy, opened her mouth to take in all the wonderful, tasty pussy juice, she kissed her softly and tried to fuck her with her tongue the next moment. Cindy almost cried now of lust. 

Monica loved to hear that sounds of pleasure and pure sexual arousal. She knew that the girl was already very close to coming, but Monica wanted her to even keep her arousal till she would let her cum. 

She stopped licking her and just planted soft butterfly kisses all over her crotch. She outlined the shapes of the young girls pretty, wet cunt-lips with her tongue. She just breathed into her pussy, teasing her. She very softly kissed her clit and licked and kissed her mount of Venus for a while, till the girl had calmed down a bit again.

The bed-sheets beneath the girl's crotch were soaking wet already of her pussy juices. 

Monica started to lick her again. Up and down her slit, with her tongue, her lips and her whole mouth, even her nose, buried her face into the girl's crotch, pressed it against her, rubbed her. Soon the girl's juices were all over the older lesbians face. Monica loved that feeling. 

Monica was now changing between licking quickly up and down the teenagers slit, entering her sweet little pussy with her tongue, like tongue-fucking her, taking all of her tasty sex-juices that she could get and kissing, licking and sucking her hard clit. 

Cindy was moaning loud, let out loud cries of pure lust and sexual satisfaction. Her pussy was quivering. Monica knew that she was not close to come. There was no stopping now. She sucked hard on the teenager's clit and pressed her face fully against the girl's cunt. 

Cindy cried out loud and she came to a long and loud huge orgasm. Her juices were flowing in a stream and Monica's eager tongue was licking in circles to get as much as possible of Cindy's taste. 

After Cindy had finally relaxed a bit again, after her first lesbian climax, the experienced businesswoman looked up to the cheerleader smiling out of her pussyjuice-covered face.

"Did you like that my little, sweet hooker, my young whore?", she asked.

The girl nodded.

"You have earned your money now, Cindy. You can go if you want. Or you can stay and I will make you cum, I will make you cum with my hands and fingers, I will make you cum by licking and pleasuring your sweet, little arse and I will pleasure your wonderful, young breasts and nipples till you cry of lust. You can touch and fumble another woman for the first time and you can taste a pussy for the first time if you want. Do you want to go now, my little hooker?"

The 18-year-old girl just shook her head. Monica smiled and she moved up along the girl's naked body and she kissed her. Cindy tasted her own pussyjuices as the 36-year-old manager kissed her deeply and passionately, pressing her young body tight to her body and massaging her arse with her hands. 

That would be a wonderful, long night, after which Cindy would maybe never again think of having sex with a man. She would make her young amateur hooker a lesbian. 

Feedback, Comments and Votings are very welcome!! I will love to read your feedback!! ….and never forget to enjoy a wonderful pussy, it's just one of the most wonderful things on earth…

Your pussylove69.

- the end -

Drunkotica

Ellie woke in the mucky aroma of last night's cigarettes and hard, oh so hard cider. Her musty hair clung to... "whose pillow is this?" she thought. She shot upright, constrained and trapped in sheets she did not recognize. "Whose room is this?" She gazed at the dark blue room with Aztec frosting-white crown molding. "Is this a man's bedroom? How drunk was I?"

Her fingers pulled at the boa-constricting fabric. "Oh dear lord I'm nude."

She fell out of bed and, somehow, involuntarily managed to take the covers with her, which luckily worked in her favor.

She tip-toed across the peculiarly neat bedroom. "Must be a gay man's bedroom.... Oh, no, I slept with a gay man."

A chest-lurching crack of pipes sounded down the hall. Running water noisily surged through the old Victorian home. She crouched and crawled the wood floors, nails anxiously clawing the boards, so that she could poke her head into the hallway undiscovered.

Steam rose beneath a door at the end of the corridor. The source of shower racket reverberated off newly painted walls. Plastic overlay floorboards, and a few packing boxes crowded the corners and entries of several rooms with wide-open-look-in-here doors.

She paced past a living room with several tall-backed comfy chairs wrapped in plastic and an overly... hairy rug of some sort. "Is that yak?" she thought.

The living room had an unblinded balcony with square window-walls and a dark mahogany spiral staircase, leading to the... first floor? She couldn't remember anything about this house or its owner, and the lack of blinds uncomfortably exposed her to whomever may be looking through the windows.

With a deep breath and moment of silly hesitation, she begrudgingly opened the bathroom door. A rush of steam slapped her in the face.

"Hey! Good morning!" said an excited, unfamiliar voice.

Ellie stood dumbstruck while her eyes adjusted to the smog. She could hear a glass shower-door creak open and soft pattering footsteps. Gentle, wet, feminine lips licked and massaged her own. "Good morning," they whispered into her ear. She shivered as tip of tongue and frame of mouth prodded and teased her neck. Long, thin fingers slowly freed Ellie from the ravel of dark-blue bedsheets, and a warm, welcoming body crept closer to her own.

Awed, Ellie's hands caught the base of the woman's hips and traced the cradle of her ribcage. They braved the overwhelming, blood-rush, dizzying steam and dove into an electrifying hug. Ellie fish-flopped to the floor. Sparks and dots flew before her eyes.

"Ellie! Are you okay?"

A whip of familiar blonde hair smacked Ellie's face.

"Shannon?!"

"Yeah, whom else did you expect?" Shannon said a bit miffed.

Ellie launched her face into Shannon's mask of surprise. Tongues passionately tangled. They clung to each other as if luging for Olympic Gold.

The bathroom door opened. Light and fog outlined an illegible silhouette.

"Who's that?" Ellie asked.

"Lauren. You remember Lauren right? If not, I'm sure she can remind you." A wicked grin crossed Shannon's lips as she tugged Ellie's jaw for an addictive nip and nibble.

"Let's take a shower," Shannon coaxed; although, Ellie didn't need much bribing.

Watching to see what Lauren looked like, Ellie realized she did know her, at least from Shannon's photo albums of archery, camping and racing. Shannon's blonde hair contrasted so beautifully with Lauren's red, Ellie would gawk over the photos while Shannon was in the restroom.... This must be Lauren's house.

Crooning, Shannon and Lauren herded Ellie to the shower, an astounding glass room with a drain in the middle. The shower was lighted so that Ellie could finally see. Which was unnerving in terms of self-awareness and seeing EVERYTHING reflected in the glass walls. But Ellie didn't have time to be self-conscious. Lauren's hands clasped their mouths together; and, Shannon dropped to anal-tongue penetration, erupting a series of chirp-chortling gurgles from Ellie's throat. The resulting onslaught had Ellie face-down on the tiles with Shannon anally dilating her, while saying spiritedly-motivational phrases such as, "Squeeze tighter!"

The crunching orgasms were so "hallelujah high-pitched," Lauren was forced to retreated to kissing Ellie's neck. During the apocalypse of blissful eating and penetration, Lauren disappeared. When Shannon finished with a big grin on her face and Ellie had enough energy to look up, she noticed something... impossible to overlook.

"Is that a crossbow?" Ellie asked Lauren.

"It is a crossbow.... Well, was a crossbow. But see, I punctured this dildo with a metal rod and reinforced the action in the trigger. Then locked the release and replaced the spring with my secret.. mechanism, and fastened the crossbow to a leather-platinum strap-on holster."

"So what does it do now?"

"It pumps the fuck out of you."

"Does it ever stop?" Ellie asked, observing the steel was quite hunt-ready.

"Only when I release the trigger."

"It's completely safe." Shannon said.

Then again Shannon's idea of safe was a bit... overtaking.

However, Ellie had no complaints or resistance so long as her enervated body didn't have to move. Which it didn't.

Shannon sneakily slid under Ellie's propped body, serving as both a cushion against the tile and restraint to hold Ellie's tired hips in place. The two soothingly caressed, kissed and spread Ellie into REM-like submission.

And then it happened. ARMAGEDDON. Battle weapon met orgasmic plunger in such a way that the Big Bang occurred in-reverse and then fast-forward in slow-motion as a result of Ellie's orgasm. The vibrating buzz of the "arrow", turned dildo, relaxed the entry of Ellie's anus to such a miracle that she felt no pain. There was no resisting total takedown, especially when it felt as if she'd been gassed with sleeping gas and massaged, full-body, in an emergency space pod soaring through intergalactic time-warps. The domino orgasms could not be counted.

Lauren's reaction was exhilarating as she felt the vibrations of the beast on her clit. Ellie passed out. Lauren, lying on her back in exhaustion, felt the immense prowess of her partner, Shannon, leap onto her crossbow and take them for an unforgettable ride.

Waking after several minutes of impenetrable blackout, they lay motionless trying to speak. When words finally did arrive they were airy with throaty whistles.

"Wow. Thank you for coming home with us last night or this would never have happened!" Lauren said. Her chest heaved in delightful exhaustion.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember how the sex was last night, but if it was like this, I probably lost some brain cells in the blackout." Ellie said, the moan and groan of disappointment echoed in her chest. She yearned desperately to remember every second of their erotic ventures.

"Oh, we didn't sleep with you last night! You were drunk!" Shannon burst into laughter. "We took you home from a house party we've no idea how you got to. Just saw some guy hitting on you. Lauren lived close by. Thought it was safest to bring you here. You were really out of it. Peeled your clothes off as soon as you entered the house."

"We sat on the couch all night chatting about how cute you are." Lauren said.

"Didn't think you'd hop in the shower with us." Shannon turned hysterically red as Ellie's jaw dropped.

"I'm glad I did." Ellie said.

Shannon and Lauren giggled gratefully and pecked Ellie's cheeks as a serendipitous smile commandeered her lips.

-the end -

Just As Good

Lily shoved the door to the Port and Pint open, smirking as it slammed against the wall. She glanced back to make sure she hadn't broken the door. She had not; too bad, the damn thing was in her way after all and with the mood she was in, anything standing in her way had better watch out! The bar's few patrons turned to check out the noise, but Lily merely glared back defiantly. 

The young woman stomped up to the bar, climbing onto a stool at the far left end of the bar, as far from the other patrons as she could sit. She huffed and grimaced as Rosalind, the proprietress, continued chatting easily with the two young men standing by the middle of the bar as they paid their tab. How long would she have to wait for some service, anyway?

As if sensing her annoyance, Rosalind turned to look her way, nodding to indicate she'd be there in a moment. She waved sweetly to the young men as they departed, and then made her way towards Lily's end of the bar.

"Bad day, love?" The barkeep smiled in sympathy, obviously not expecting an answer. "What'll it be?"

The question momentarily stumped Lily. All she knew was that she wanted a drink. Not having much experience with alcohol, she had no idea what kind of drink she wanted. This was hardly a butterbeer moment. "Something strong. Surprise me."

"I know just the thing," nodded Rosalind, turning back to the large display of bottles and vials she kept behind the bar. The older woman pulled several bottles of different colored liquors down from their racks and lined them up on the bar a few feet down from Lily. She ducked under the counter to retrieve a tall, narrow glass, which she filled with ice. After filling the glass with a little liquid from each bottle, Rosalind swirled it gently to mix the fluids together before topping the mixture off with a single cherry and handing it to Lily. "How do you like this?"

Slightly nervous despite her determination to Get Drunk, Lily gazed down at the strange concoction for a couple seconds before raising the glass to her lips and taking a large swig. The drink was sweet yet pungent at the same time, the unfamiliar burn of alcohol only partly disguised by a strong fruity flavor. Lily swirled the liquid around in her mouth a moment and then swallowed. Was it her imagination, or could she already feel the buzz? "Perfect," she replied before taking another gulp.

"I won't bother putting these back yet then." Rosalind gave Lily a sly wink before wandering off to check on the pub's only other patrons, who were seated at a table by the window. Lily paid little attention to the polite conversation the proprietress made, choosing instead to focus on her drink and the reason for her need for it. Jason Wexler.

"Maybe we should see other people for awhile," he'd said. As if he weren't the one who had pursued her for several years despite her protests. Against her better judgment she'd finally accepted his advances in their senior year at Wilson High, believing he was no longer the egotistical bully of his younger years. Lily had thought Jason had changed, but apparently she'd been wrong.

"I just want to see what else is out there before settling down and becoming all domesticated. Don't you ever wonder about other people, Lils?" No, asshole. Since I started dating you, I've had no eyes for anyone else, and more fool me to think you felt the same. I'm so bloody sorry if screwing me has gotten boring, Wexler. Sorry to cramp your fucking style. 

Lily looked down – her glass was empty. After the first few sips it went down real easy. Disgruntled, she called out to the barkeep. "Hey Rosalind! I want another one!" Perhaps tomorrow she'd regret her manners, but right now they were the furthest thing from her mind. Right now she only wanted the fuzzy, glowing feeling that was creeping upon her to continue, and that required another drink.

The older woman chuckled. "Impatient, aren't we, love!" 

Lily watched as the middle aged couple at the table stood to leave, hoping they'd hurry so Rosalind would come back more quickly. They didn't hurry, and Rosalind walked them to the door, locking it behind them as they left. Lily looked up towards the clock hanging in the back of the room. It was just past two. Crap. So much for another drink.

"Are you closing?" A small feeling of shame pierced through Lily's fog as she fumbled for her coin purse. "I should leave."

Rosalind walked back to Lily and put a hand on her arm. "No, stay. I can tell when a young lady is in need of a good drink and a good shoulder. It's part of the job description." The older lady stepped behind the bar and mixed two of the funny multi-colored drink, handing one to Lily and keeping the other for herself. 

"I'm glad you like my drink, Lily, is it?" Lily nodded. "I call it ‘Rosie's revenge'."

"Does that mean I'll have an awful hangover tomorrow?" asked Lily after taking a generous sip.

Rosalind shook her head as she came back around to sit down on the stool next to Lily's. "Nothing a couple of aspirin can't cure. I just like the way the name sounds. Now tell me, what's he done to put you in such a mood?"

"He?" repeated Lily. "How do you know it's a he?"

"It's always a he," laughed the older lady. "If a lady wants a drink, ninety-nine times out of a hundred it's because some man treated her poorly. Am I wrong?"

Lily stared down into her drink, ashamed to be just a statistic. "No, you're not wrong."

"So what did he do?"

"You see this ring?" Lily nodded to the hand that was clutching her drink. "He gave it to me six months ago, when he asked me to marry him. He told me I was the only woman he'd ever wanted, ever loved. And I believed him."

At this Lily chugged the rest of her drink. "But tonight, just a few months before the wedding, he comes over to my apartment to tell me he's feeling trapped, that he wants to see other people. Oh, he didn't want to call off the wedding or anything, he just wanted a chance to ‘sow some wild oats.'"

"What did you say to that?" asked the barkeep gently as she took Lily's glass and began reconstructing a refill from where she sat.

"I told him that if he wanted my permission to screw other people he could go to Hell," sneered Lily. "And I meant it! I told him to get the fuck out of my apartment and that I never wanted to see him again. And then I came here. I should have thrown his damn ring back in his face."

Rosalind pursed her lips as if pondering. "Hmmm… I know you don't want to hear this, but maybe he had a point?"

"A point? What are you talking about?" challenged Lily.

"A lifetime is a very long time to be with just one person. And if you've only ever experienced each other, then how can you really be sure that you've chosen the right person?" The barkeep gave Lily her drink. "You might think so know, but you won't really know unless you've tried someone else."

"But I don't want anyone else!" Lily insisted, head down, staring into her glass again. "I haven't so much as looked at another man since I started dating him back at school."

Lily jumped as felt soft fingers brushing her hair away from her face. She turned to face the older woman, who replied softly, "What about a woman?"

"A woman," repeated Lily, shocked into downing half of her drink in one gulp. "No, not a woman either."

Rosalind was watching her intensely, and Lily felt herself returning the gaze. The older woman's fingers came down to gently touch her cheek. Lily had always believed that alcohol numbed one's senses, but she felt the touch far more keenly than normal. Her mind spun, part of it rebelling against the concept of thinking of a woman in that way, but another part reveling in the excitement of the foreign and forbidden. Rosalind was a pretty woman, her hair falling in soft curls around her face, her eyes warm and friendly, her lips shiny and red from her lipstick, her breasts swelling gently out from the low-cut blouse she wore.

Lily didn't protest as Rosalind's fingers stroked her cheek, then glided softly down the side of her neck; rather, she shivered at the pleasurable sensation. She'd always loved it when Jason kissed and bit her neck; it made her feel sexy and desirable. Just like Rosalind was making her feel now. 

It was weird, getting these feelings from a woman. Lily could imagine the disapproving voices of her parents and sister if they could see her now. "Disgraceful! Freak!" Elizabeth would call her. But right now, the thought that kept repeating in Lily's mind was that it felt good, and how could that possibly be wrong? 

If Jason could experiment, why shouldn't she?

Lily watched herself lift one of her own hands to Rosalind's cheek, mimicking the caresses she'd been given moments before. Rosalind smiled softly, and turned her face into Lily's hand, pressing a kiss into her palm. Lily's eyes closed and she gasped as she felt her index finger be sucked into the older woman's mouth. Whether it was a result of the alcoholic haze or some deep-seated lesbian desires Lily didn't know, but her entire body was reacting to the sensation of Rosalind's tongue swirling around her finger as if she were fellating it. Lily heard a groan, but several seconds passed before she realized it came from her.

Rosalind's chair scraped against the wooden floor. Lily opened her eyes to find the other woman had stood and now right in front of her. She felt the cold air on her wet finger as Rosalind released it, her lips making a trail up the sensitive flesh of her inner arm, her tongue lightly carving a path of sensation. G-d, this woman knew just where to touch her! 

Jason was different. Jason never bothered with her fingers or her arms, preferring to go straight for the obvious targets. As the silky tongue traced a circular path in the crook of her elbow, Lily moaned and forgot all about Jason. 

She wanted to do nothing but feel, but she also wanted to touch. Her free hand cupped the older woman's shoulder, which was only half covered by her blouse. Her skin was soft like Lily's own, no bizarre tufts of hair marring the smoothness. With a boldness she didn't know she had, Lily allowed her hand to wander towards Rosalind's neck and then down toward that which was undisputably feminine. Rosalind groaned in either surprise or pleasure then took Lily's tentative hand under her own, guiding it along the neckline of her blouse to cup her fully. Lily had touched her own breasts, of course, but this one was much larger, the nipple much more extrusive than her own. She thumbed it tentatively, rewarded by the sounds of pleasure coming from the other woman. Lily always loved having her breasts touched too.

She didn't protest as Rosalind began unbuttoning her blouse, although a very small part of her mind still attempted to warn her about how bizarre and wrong this was. She didn't care. It felt good, and she deserved to feel good. Lily's hand squeezed and her mouth fell open as Rosalind pushed aside the blouse and bra to lift her breast and suck gently on the peak. She closed her eyes to be more aware of the sensations of touch, allowing her to fully feel each tug of the lips and flick of the tongue. With her eyes closed, Rosalind's mouth could have been Jason' except for slight differences in timing and motion, nuances that showed that where Jason had to figure out what made Lily wet, Rosalind just knew. This was just as good, if not better.

Lily's eyes flew open when Rosalind's head left her breasts, and she found herself being gently tugged by the hand. Rosalind was motioning towards one of the tables in the back of the room. "It will be easier over there."

The two held hands as they walked over to the table then stood, gazing intently at each other for a moment. Lily wondered if she should kiss Rosalind's lovely red lips, since generally that was expected when two people explored each others' bodies, but she hesitated. She wasn't sure she could do that.

Whether Rosalind sensed this or merely wasn't interested in kissing, Lily didn't know, but she found herself being gently pushed back against the table until she was seated on the edge. The older woman continued removing Lily's shirt and bra, the latter of which had been hooked awkwardly underneath her breast. The air was chilly but Lily didn't mind. She waited for whatever Rosalind would do next.

Rosalind yanked her own top unceremoniously over her head and tossed it onto a chair before reaching behind her back to unclasp whatever was holding the wisp of lace that served as her bra together and discarding it as well. The older woman's breasts were large and sagged a bit without the support of a bra, but the nipples were lush and a deep mauve and Lily couldn't draw her eyes away. 

"Do you want to kiss them?" asked Rosalind as she stepped close to where Lily sat, her breasts only inches from Lily's mouth. 

Lily nodded nervously. She heard Rosalind laugh a little as she leaned in closer to bring a nipple right up against Lily's lips. "Then do it."

Lily only had to open her mouth to take the swollen peak inside. She tongued it tentatively for a moment, then wrapped her arms around Rosalind's waist and began to suck hungrily. Driven by the memories of what had felt good to her, Lily licked and teased the tip while still applying suction. She imagined this were her breast and that she were pleasuring herself. The moans coming from Rosalind were really her own.

She felt Rosalind reach back to take her right hand and guide it between her legs. "Touch me when you do that." 

Lily allowed her fingers to rub back in forth where Rosalind had placed it and was rewarded by the feel of a hand cupping her own breast, a thumb rubbing the tip. She sucked harder in response to the sensation and felt the other woman bucking against her hand. She rubbed faster, taking the hint and felt throbbing in her own groin as Rosalind came, crying out loudly with the most erotic sound Lily had ever heard.

She was pushed onto her back as Rosalind fell against her until they were both lying on the table, the other woman's hand still on her breast, unmoving. They lay like that a moment before Rosalind pulled back, still slightly out of breath. Lily moved to follow Rosalind as she stood, but the older woman pressed her back down on the table with one hand.

"We're not done yet. It's your turn."

Lily watched as Rosalind pulled a chair directly in front of Lily's legs and sat down in it. She didn't protest as she felt hands gently spreading her knees apart, she merely listened to the scrape of chair legs as Rosalind moved in closer. She watched as her skirt was folded up, and obediently raised her bottom when Rosalind gently tugged her knickers down. Lily knew what was coming and wanted it with all her being. She closed her eyes and waited.

A hand pressed gently against each of her inner thighs, encouraging her to open further. She complied, desperate and eager. She felt the warmth of breath against her, each breath almost tapping against her in contrast to the cold air of the room. Her hips resisted the urge to close the distance, instead wiggling anxiously against the pressure of the hands against her thighs. And then, the tip of a tongue, pressing gently through the folds, teasing gently around the spot, driving her mad with wanting. She felt one of the hands leave her thigh to rest on her stomach, fingers circling in a pattern similar to that the tongue was drawing on her. Lily moaned. It all felt so good.

The other hand crept softly up the inside of her thigh, tickling a little as it did so before reaching where the tongue was already licking. She felt fingers spreading her folds open wider to make a path for the tongue to wetly trace. It licked back and forth, barely grazing her clit several times, making Lily squirm against it to try to bring it closer, before hot lips clamped down gently around it and began to suck. 

Lily wasn't conscious of making the sounds that were coming incoherently from her mouth as she nearly wept with the pleasure that she was receiving from that marvelous mouth. She didn't have to instruct, "Faster," or "Harder," because the mouth knew just what to do. It was so easy in comparison, to just lie there and melt. Just when the sucking became too intense, the mouth would relax and slowly lave gentle circles, or travel down to poke its tongue inside her. 

She kept her eyes tightly closed as she felt two fingers enter her, and those lips humming as they closed around her clit again, the feel of both sucking and fucking at the same time. She couldn't restrain her hips anymore; they strained against hand and mouth, rubbing, forcing the level of pressure to the limit as she bucked and cried out, driving herself to a shattering release. 

Lily didn't move. She didn't open her eyes. She allowed the afterglow to course through her. The pleasure. Her lover. Her fiancé. Jason.

Lily opened her eyes. Rosalind was watching her silently, looking somewhat satisfied with herself. And then she remembered. Jason had wanted to experiment. To see what else was out there. She grinned in the knowledge of what she'd found.

"Are you ok?" asked Rosalind.

"Fine. That was amazing," replied Lily. She chuckled. "Just what I needed."

She stood and began retrieving her clothing. Rosalind just observed, saying nothing, as Lily donned her bra and blouse, attempting somewhat futilely to look presentable. Although she still felt the buzz of alcohol, her mind was relatively clear and she felt very odd about what had just occurred. It had been simply divine, but it wasn't love. She looked across at Rosalind and pondered the concept of a relationship with her. And couldn't. Not necessarily because she was a woman, but because she knew very little about her save her extraordinary talents. And somehow, she knew it would be very awkward to try to build a relationship from sex. The sex would always get in the way.

But Rosalind merely watched her, saying nothing of tomorrow, or expectations as Lily finished dressing. Maybe she already knew. 

Lily decided the less said the better. She approached the other woman and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," replied the other woman, smiling slightly, saying no more.

Lily gave a little wave and turned to leave, turning the bolt to unlock the door and this time closing it softly behind her.

She wandered back towards her apartment in a sort of daze. What had just happened? Was it real? Could anything that perfect have been real? She decided it didn't matter whether it was real or not. It wasn't love.

She climbed the steps to her flat and startled at the sight of her fiancé, sitting against her front door, dozing. She shook him awake, unable to get past him.

He jumped, startled, as his eyes focused and he apparently remembered where he was and what he was doing there. He scrambled to his feet. "Lily! Thank G-d you're back! I am so sorry, love! I don't know what came over me earlier. After I left, all I could think about was you never wanting to see me again and how I couldn't bear the thought of living my life without you." 

Lily started to speak but he put a finger over her lips. "Shh. Let me finish. I'm sorry I was such a fool. I don't need to sow any wild oats. I don't need to experiment with other women. I just need you. Please forgive me."

Lily looked up into the eyes of the man she'd agreed to spend her life with and saw remorse, anguish, and love. He did love her. And she knew she loved him. Despite the fact that he didn't know her body as if it were his own, she still wanted to spend her life helping him figure it out. 

"I forgive you." 

Jason drew her close and hugged her tight and she returned the embrace, not angry at all anymore, and in part a little grateful for what his moment of indecision had allowed her to experience. She was ready to get married.

- the end -