Licks

Delilah Devlin

Paisley Smith

This eBook is not transferable.

It cannot be resold, shared or given away because that will be considered an infringement on the copyright for this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Delilah’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Licks

Copyright © 2012 by Delilah Devlin and Paisley Smith

Edited by Linda Carroll-Bradd

Cover by Paisley Smith

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the authors, except for brief quotations for review purposes.

Dedication

To girls who love girls and those who don’t yet know it...

Foreword

Everyone knows that a woman’s sex organ is between her ears. For us, there is no magic blue pill. Our arousal is firmly chained (pun intended) to our imaginations. So when Delilah Devlin approached me with the idea for Licks, a collection of girl-on-girl erotic narratives, I couldn’t wait to begin writing. Erotica lends itself well to short fiction, and each of the eight jewels included in Licks is the perfect length for finding a little sexual inspiration alone, with your favorite toy, or with a trusted partner.

Inside Licks, you’ll find stories designed to make you sigh, to stir evocative images guaranteed to haunt your dreams, or to enthuse you to take a walk on the wild side and act out that naughty little scenario you’ve been fantasizing about.

We hope you visit and revisit the lusty tales in Licks.

—Paisley Smith

Riding Bitch

Paisley Smith

After my third call went to voicemail, I flipped closed my cell phone and peered down the dark street. No sign of my boyfriend, Garrett. I couldn’t imagine why he’d forgotten to pick me up from my job at the Giggling Grouper.

Thunder rumbled and I turned toward the gulf. Soft lightning illuminated the sky in the distance. But beach storms rolled in fast. Apprehension gnawed at my stomach.

I’d sensed Garrett pulling away, but since my job was seasonal, and I’d probably be moving back to my hometown in Georgia after Labor Day, I really hadn’t bothered to end things with him.

Tonight, it seemed, he’d beaten me to the punch.

I glanced at my watch. Half past two. He was thirty minutes late and everybody I knew was either in bed or lived an hour away in Foley. No sense calling a cab. The fee to make the hour-and-a-half drive from Orange Beach to my place in Bay Minette would cost every dollar I’d earned for the night.

The parking lot was desolate except for one empty car and a motorcycle.

Lindsey’s motorcycle.

even though the balmy, coastal breeze was far from chilly, I hugged my arms to myself.

Lindsey.

I sighed.

I had the wickedest crush on her. Even though I’d only been with a couple of girls—and that had been in high school—I found Lindsey sexy as hell. She wasn’t the type most girls, even full-fledged lesbians, would find attractive. With super-short brown hair and square-shouldered frame, she looked like a boy. At the restaurant, we joked about how many times customers referred to her as sir.

But there was something about her. Something indefinable. Something that made me wet between the legs whenever I thought about her tangled in the arms of another woman. Just an inexplicable je ne sais quoi existed about the contrasting enigma of her plush, naturally pink lips and the men’s button-down and khakis she wore to work that intrigued me.

On more than one occasion, I’d fantasized about sneaking a kiss with her in the walk-in cooler, or on the pier after closing. Truth be told, I fantasized about way more than kissing her. I doubted I was her type though. With my trademark twin, blonde pigtails and black booty shorts that got me more tips than I deserved, I was an all-American girly-girl, the kind who fretted about hot-gluing bling to my cell phone or chipping a nail. I’d always figured Lindsey liked rough and tumble gals, the no-nonsense type who slid into second base at the softball games she refereed on Sundays.

And even if she did find me attractive, there was another problem. The woman was my boss. Even though my job was temporary, fraternizing with employees was against the rules for the shift managers.

Just as I started to dial Garrett one more time, the back door opened and Lindsey stepped out. She’d changed from her shirt and khakis into a pair of jeans, biker boots, and a tight-fitting black tank. Balancing her helmet on her hip with her arm, she slammed the door closed and turned the key in the lock.

As she started toward her bike, more—and closer—lightning bathed her in an eerie yellow glow. Her Joan Jett walk was decidedly masculine, and she whistled as she crossed the parking lot.

“Hey, Lindz,” I called, suddenly terrified at the thought of being abandoned here all night.

Thunder boomed as she stopped. Her eyes widened at the sight of me standing there, looking like a lonely loser at the edge of the parking lot. “Shit, Megan,” she said in that oddly sensual, androgynous tone of hers. “You scared me. What are you doing out here? Your ride didn’t show?”

As I hurried toward her, I shook my head.

Pity for me flashed in her eyes. “How you gonna get home?”

I shrugged, suddenly near tears.

She reached out and clasped my shoulder. “Come on, now. None of that. Any jerk who’d leave you stranded this late at night doesn’t deserve you anyway. I’ve got an extra helmet in the restaurant. I’ll take you home.”

“All the way to Bay Minette? I couldn’t—”

“Home with me,” she said. “There’s no way we’ll beat this storm. Besides, it’ll do you good to let him worry for once.” She grinned.

“You’re right,” I said, relieved I’d found a ride. “Thanks.”

She thrust her helmet into my hands. “Hang onto this and I’ll get the other one.” She started back toward the restaurant.

The first drops of rain fell on my face and arms as I ambled over to her bike while she retrieved the other helmet. I’d never been on a motorcycle before, and the thought of riding this one nestled behind Lindsey caused my stomach to do flips. I wondered if my nervousness stemmed more from being on a motorcycle, or from the idea I was going home with Lindsey.

She returned and traded helmets with me. I watched her don hers, my mouth going dry at the sight of her in her easy fitting jeans and that thin, thin tank. Obviously, she wore nothing underneath her skimpy top. Her breasts were small, no bigger than mine had been when I’d first worn a training bra. I wondered about the sensation of kissing them, cupping them as she fingered me. Wetness dampened my panties.

“Think you can get that on over those pigtails?” she asked and gave one a lighthearted tug.

I slipped the helmet on my head, feeling as if I looked ridiculous in it. I don’t know why I thought that. Lindsey looked pretty fucking hot in hers.

After I fumbled unsuccessfully with the chin strap, she closed the distance between us and fastened it for me. Heat radiated off her lean, muscular body. Being this close made my insides quiver, and just knowing a woman’s body lurked beneath that boyish exterior did crazy things to me. I found myself staring at her lips, wishing she’d make the first move and kiss me.

She tapped on my helmet with her knuckles. “There. That ought to fix you up.” With a casual move, she slung one leg over her bike and settled onto the seat.

My heart skipped a beat when she turned to look back at me.

“You’re gonna have to ride bitch.”

I laughed at the term bikers used to describe their women who rode on the back, and I climbed onto the bike. The seat was small, forcing me to sit right up against her back. My thighs practically hugged hers as I put my feet on the pegs.

“Better hold on,” she said as she started the engine.

The bike vibrated beneath my ass, the rhythmic rumble igniting my already sensitized pussy. My friends had always told me motorcycles were sexy. I’d never understood why.

Until now.

Tentatively, I placed my hands on Lindsey’s narrow waist.

“You better grab tighter than that.”

My heart seemed to pound in my throat as I snaked my arms around her. It scared me how easy getting used to this would be.

Lightning flashed as the bike zoomed out of the lot and down the road. I knew from the way Lindsey talked that she lived nearby, somewhere just off the Intercoastal Waterway Road. Hopefully, we’d beat the storm.

The muscles in her back and thighs rippled as she leaned into turns. When she stopped at a traffic light, the motion of her feet bracing on the pavement caused her legs to part my knees even further.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Hot!” I exclaimed, referring to more than the bike rumbling beneath me.

She laughed as the light changed and she rocketed off again. A lightning bolt spiraled to earth, the sound of it booming over the bike’s engine. Instinctively, I clutched Lindsey tighter, one of my hands pressing against her abdomen just below the slight swell of her breast.

Rain began to pelt us, the drops stinging as they hit my bare legs and arms. Luckily, we were close.

Lindsey wheeled the bike onto a side street and then into a gravel drive, easing to a stop underneath a house elevated several feet off the ground by sturdy pilings.

Such homes were common in coastal areas due to the threat of flooding, but I was just glad for the shelter from the rain. I stepped off the bike, still shaking from the vibration and from the close proximity to Lindsey.

She slipped off her helmet before she kicked down the stand and climbed off. “Woo!” she hooted. “We almost made it.”

By now, the storm raged all around us, the wind setting the tropical palmettos and tall pines in motion.

“You’re soaked,” she said as she unfastened my chin strap. “Come on in and I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

I followed her up the wooden steps to her door. A rough-looking orange Tom cat raced past me and pawed on the door until Lindsey unlocked and opened it.

“Hold on, Clyde,” she said, and turned. “He’ll be pissed I didn’t bring him any scraps from the restaurant.”

Her place was nice. Way nicer than I expected. A leather sectional dominated the living area which was separated from the kitchen by a bar. We put the helmets on it and Lindsey reached in the fridge and brandished a beer. “Want one?”

“Thanks,” I said.

She screwed off the top and handed me the bottle before she cracked another for herself. She turned it up and guzzled.

I stared, mesmerized by the graceful slope of her neck and lower, where that one little spot where her tank gapped, revealing the curve of a breast.

“Shit, that’s good,” she said and wiped a trace of beer from her lips with the back of her hand. She put the beer on the counter. “We gotta get you out of those wet clothes.”

My skin tingled from both dampness and the idea of undressing in Lindsey’s house.

“Come with me,” she said, striding toward her bedroom.

Her bed was unmade, the sheet and one quilt rumpled on one side. The closet had been left open to reveal sparse contents. Mostly khakis and work shirts haphazardly hung over a metal shelf where several pairs of jeans and t-shirts were folded.

Lindsey opened a chest of drawers and dragged out a pair of boxers. “These okay?”

“Sure, thanks,” I told her, taking them.

She opened a cardboard box full of brightly colored t-shirts and thumbed through them. “What are you? A small?” She pulled a pink one out of the middle and unfurled it in front of me.

I didn’t recognize the name of the restaurant, Lucky Snapper, which was emblazoned into a very cool logo of a fish. On second look, all the shirts in the box bore the Lucky Snapper design. “I’ve never heard of this place,” I said as I took the shirt.

The corners of Lindsey’s mouth quivered. She couldn’t quell a pride-filled smile. “I’m opening my own place.”

“Really?” I asked, excited for her.

“Yep. It’s in the old Oyster Shuckers location,” she explained. “I just haven’t said anything at the Grouper yet. I didn’t want Bill to think I was trying to steal his employees, and you know how the staff all moves to a new place when it opens.”

“That’s awesome, Lindz.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Hey, I’m going to shower if you don’t mind. I hate bringing that restaurant smell home with me.” And then she began unbuttoning her jeans.

My gaze riveted to her fly as she unzipped and then peeled it open. Underneath, she wore a gray pair of boxer briefs. And underneath those… Holy shit. I couldn’t stop staring as she pushed the denim down her muscular legs.

She toed off her boots before stepping out of the jeans.

My tongue curled against the roof of my mouth. I was still gaping when she crossed her arms, grabbed hold of the hem of her tank, and stripped it off over her head. Her bare breasts were just like I thought they’d be. Firm. Small. Perfect for Lindsey. My fingers curled into the clothes I held.

My mouth twitched to kiss her. My lips parted but I couldn’t issue the invitation. I didn’t have time.

She turned and skinned the briefs down her legs as she walked into the bathroom.

I caught a flash of taut ass when she pushed the door only partially closed.

“Make yourself at home,” she called.

I heard the faucet eek on and then the shower run. Some bold part of me wanted to strip down and join her in the shower but I could never be so forward. What if she turned me down? I couldn’t bear for things to be awkward between us.

Feeling as if I missed my chance, I laid the clothes she’d given me on the bed, pulled off my shoes, and then slipped out of my shorts. The crotch of my cotton panties was so wet from thinking about fucking Lindsey that I shimmied out of those, too. I removed my Grouper shirt and bra and was about to put on the boxers shorts when Lindsey emerged from the shower.

Toweling off her short hair, she stepped into the bedroom, stopping short when she saw me. She cleared her throat. “Damn, Megan.” Her gaze slinked down to my feet and slowly back up.

My blood warmed and pulsed thick and hard through my veins. Heart pounding, I dropped the boxers on the bed and turned fully toward her. I didn’t have to say anything else.

She dropped her towel and suddenly, our bodies countered each other’s from head to toe. Her mouth captured mine and I opened for her, admitting her tongue. She burrowed her fingers into the hair at my nape and held my head while she plundered my mouth.

I skimmed my hands over her back, her sides, wherever I could reach, feeling the hard bone and muscle under her satiny skin. A moan tore from her throat when I covered one of her breasts and squeezed, drawing back to pluck the nipple.

“God, I’ve wanted to fuck you for so damn long,” she murmured into my mouth.

I couldn’t get enough. I wanted her all at once. I ached to feel her lips against mine, her palms gliding over my breasts, and skimming my waist.

“Jesus, Megan,” she said huskily, reaching between my legs.

Nothing was gentle about her touch. Nothing at all.

A finger pushed into me. Her fist parted my thighs.

I clung to her shoulders, no longer able to concentrate on anything but this feeling. Her touch claimed me and I rocked against her hand. But while this felt wonderfully good, there was only one way to make me come.

And I desperately needed to come.

“My ass,” I told her breathlessly. “Finger my ass.”

Her eyes searched mine for a split-second before she spun me around and pushed down my shoulders until my elbows rested on the mattress and my ass was high in the air. After gathering cream from my pussy, she slathered it around my ass, rubbing and teasing that tight little hole.

A foot prodded mine apart more. I spread for her. My heart seemed to beat in my throat as I waited and then…

“Oh, fuck yes.” I breathed the words as her finger slid in deep.

She knew just how to do it. She held still, allowing me time to adjust to the taboo invasion while she teased my pussy lips with her other hand.

“You like that finger up your ass?” she asked, her voice tight and breathy.

I voiced something affirmative. A sharp swat landed on my butt cheek. I shuddered with pleasure as the heat radiated through my bottom.

“Tell me. Tell me what you like,” she commanded.

“Your finger in my ass,” I told her, blood pumping in my ears.

“Tell me you want two in there.”

Sex with her was intoxicating. “I want two fingers.”

Another smack lit up my ass. “Where? Tell me where you want ‘em.”

“In my asshole. I want two fingers in my asshole.”

The one slid out and immediately two eased inside. I trembled. My body stretched to accommodate the girth of twin digits.

“Do you like a big dick in there?” she asked. “Because I’ve got a strap-on.”

The involuntary clench of my inner muscles answered her question but I responded aloud anyway. “I love a big cock up my ass.”

I’d never guessed sex would be like this with her. I’d imagined kissing and finger-fucking, not the total, complete domination I craved but had always feared to request.

The fingers slipped out, making me whimper for their return.

“Move and I’ll spank your ass,” Lindsey threatened playfully.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I responded, looking over my shoulder as she squatted and opened her bottom dresser drawer.

Desire flooded me when she produced a thick, life-like dildo strapped in a black harness and a smaller, hot pink butt plug. She stood and tossed the strap-on onto the bed before she began spreading lube on the plug.

My pussy clenched. My ass tightened in anticipation. I owned a smaller plug but Garrett had never made me take it before. I was so excited and aroused, I could hardly swallow.

Lindsey braced a hand on my tailbone and nudged the tip of the plug against my hole.

I dropped my head onto the bed and clutched the sheets as she stroked me with it and then pushed. My rim gave and the tip slid inside. I cried out as lightning circled the tight opening, but then the sharp bite of pain subsided as my ass accepted the invasion. The greased silicone maneuvered inside, igniting receptive nerve endings. My ass was so much more sensitive than my pussy. When she plunged it in to the hilt and my rim closed around the narrower base, I felt so full, so complete.

Lindsey climbed onto the bed and reclined on the pillows. She spread her legs and lazily raked her fingers over her clit. Her pussy was beautiful and feminine with its sparse dark brown curls and blushing pink lips. She lifted one knee. Glistening liquid dampened her opening.

I couldn’t wait to sink a finger deep inside her while I sucked that luscious clit. I licked my lips.

“Eat my pussy,” she told me.

I climbed onto the bed, every movement igniting the pleasure filling my asshole. I wanted to come but I knew waiting for release would only make it that much sweeter. On my hands and knees, I lowered my face to her crotch and teased the tip of my tongue over her taut clit.

The muscles in her legs shook as her fingers speared into my hair. She lifted her hips and pushed my head into her creamy softness. I opened my mouth over her, kissing her, tasting her, laving my tongue all over and inside her. God, I loved to eat pussy and the rich, sweet taste of her drove me wild for more. And all the while the plug seated firmly in my ass reminded me of the fucking I’d take from her after I made her come.

Her moans thrilled me. I wriggled a finger inside her and slow-fucked her while I pulled hard on her clit with my lips and tongue. Her thighs opened wider. She held my head captive and rolled her hips against my mouth and finger.

“Damn, Megan,” she uttered huskily. “Damn. That’s so good. Aww. Oh, fuck. Eat my cunt and then I’m gonna fuck you up the ass.”

I latched on harder. I fingered her faster. Come, baby. Come for me. My breathing grew quicker, and I thrust into her with two fingers, impatient for her to make good on her erotic promise.

Her fingers tightened and her body stiffened just before tell-tale spasms gripped my finger with an intensity that surprised me. She was coming and the knowledge I’d brought her over the edge of lust and pleasure inundated me with hard, ragged desire.

I had never known this feeling with Garrett. I’d never taken pleasure in giving sexually to him, but instead, had felt as if I were performing to please him.

With Lindsey, there was an exchange. A joy I found in pleasing and being pleased. And even though this was our first time, I sensed my dark, carnal needs were safe with her.

Her legs relaxed and she stroked my hair before tugging gently to lure me up.

I brushed a soft kiss over her swollen clit before kissing my way up her taut stomach, between her small breasts, over her collarbone and finally, to her lips.

This time, she returned my kisses tenderly. Her fingers flirted with one of my nipples. Her other hand reached between my legs to pluck at my aching clit.

I drew back and looked into her eyes.

She grinned and gave one of my pigtails a playful pull. “You’re so goddamn girly,” she said and then scooted down as she guided my hips forward. “Sit on my face. I want to taste your pussy.”

Her last words were muffled when I lowered myself onto her mouth. I gasped at the sudden, overwhelming pleasure. Her tongue and lips did maddening things to my cunt while my ass throbbed around the plug. Something feral came over me. I crouched over her like a needy animal, grinding my pussy against her mouth, on the verge of orgasm.

“Oh…oh…” I began but frustration surged wildly when she thrust me off her.

Somehow, she’d managed to slide into the strap-on while I’d been riding her face. In a flash, she positioned herself behind me and I cried out in protest as she withdrew the plug from my bottom. But no sooner was I empty than the tip of Lindsey’s strap-on cock prodded my hole.

I held my breath as she pushed past the opening. My ass stretched as the monstrous thing invaded me. The pain excited me and I gritted my teeth as I accepted—even welcomed—it. “Who’s riding bitch, now?” I asked her with a nervous chuckle.

Lindsey snorted and allowed me a moment to adjust before she slowly pumped her hips against my bottom. Her fingers dug into my ass cheeks. Her knees battled with mine for position.

“You’re taking that cock all the way inside your ass,” she told me. “Damn, it looks so pretty.”

“Harder,” I managed over a suddenly dry mouth.

I wanted her to pummel me, to abuse me, to leave me weeping and begging and coming.

Her thrusts accelerated. A hard smack landed on my ass, lighting my flesh on fire. I clutched the pillows, clinging as sanity slipped away. Spiraling on waves formed by pleasure and pain, I cried out as ecstasy thundered through my entire body. I furiously massaged my clit to prolong my orgasm while Lindsey continued dealing her harsh punishment.

Finally, I muttered something indiscernible, even to myself. She eased the dildo out of my ass and I sank onto the sheets, spent. Some part of me was aware of a warm washcloth wiping me clean and then of a soft quilt being drawn over my body.

Lindsey climbed into bed beside me and spooned against my back. We lay together, silently listening to the storm raging outside.

After what seemed like an hour, she brushed one of my pigtails off my shoulder and grazed my skin with her lips. “Was this just a revenge fuck?”

I turned to face her, holding her penetrating gaze. “No. I wanted this. I’ve always wanted you. I just didn’t think…”

She trailed the pad of her thumb along my cheek. “If you ever break up with him, keep me in mind.”

I swallowed thickly as my mind raced with the possibility of dating Lindsey. I wanted that. I looked forward to seeing where this could go. “I think it’s already over between Garrett and me,” I whispered.

Lindsey gathered me closer and covered my mouth with hers, again. I realized some part of me had known when I climbed onto the back of her bike, I was going home.

The Out-of-Towner

Delilah Devlin

Maybe I felt the unexpected attraction because we’d been forced to share the same hotel suite. Or maybe the reason was just the late hour and I was bored. All I know for certain was that when I put down my red pen after working diligently on notes for revising my portion of the proposal, my gaze caught on Debra’s breasts.

Her sudden exhalation drew me to the shadowy cleft revealed by the two buttons she’d undone at the top of her blouse.

Already I could see the full, round curves as they pressed close together—thanks to the magic of underwire. I stayed transfixed by a little shell button, turned sideways in the buttonhole, ready to pop free with her next deep breath.

I realized I’d been staring, and so far she hadn’t noticed because her own attention was focused on the colorful charts spread in front of her. “They’re crazy, you know,” Debra said, as she tapped one chart in particular. “How the hell are we supposed to find fifty thousand to scrub from this estimate? We’ve already cut the thing down to bare bones. The only way we can go cheaper is to stint on the quality of the parts, and Sanders will never go for that.” Her gaze drifted up, catching mine as I hastily glanced away. “I swear I’m so tired, even if there was a solution, I wouldn’t see it now.”

I cleared my throat then swallowed because my mouth was dry. Could she see the heat climbing up my neck? “Maybe we should call it a night. Start again when we’re fresh in the morning. Our meeting’s not until four.”

“Sure,” she murmured. Then Debra stood and stretched her arms above her head, and that button that hadn’t been able to make up its mind whether it was in or out, popped free. Her blouse parted, revealing another three inches of creamy skin and the lacy center of her ecru bra. The wire molded her curves into perfect creamy globes.

“Which bed do you want?” she asked, strolling toward the bathroom.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” I mumbled, unable to tear my gaze from her retreating backside.

“Then I’ll take the one closest to the AC. I’m really hot.”

With that, she closed the bathroom door. I should have felt relief, but the sound of water splashing against the shower stall only heightened my arousal.

Which was crazy. I craved dick like my dachshund did a chew toy. And why Debra? Sure her breasts were lush, but the rest of the package was a little…mismatched.

She was short, with a round face and close-cropped platinum curls that nestled close to her skull. Kohl-rimmed her eyes might have made another woman look mysterious, but only made Debra seem younger. Her features were cute—snub nose, round chin, startling blue eyes—but nothing that would draw a man’s or woman’s gaze for long. Her body, however, was all grown up—lush full bosom, round hips.

In comparison, I looked like a lanky beanpole. Not too tall, but next to Deb, we made a very disparate pair. I’d seen the way the Advantage team had sized us up when we entered the conference room that morning. While we looked mismatched, we’d worked together like a well-oiled machine, taking their concerns and offering options to revise the proposal which we’d present again the next day.

The door creaked open and Debra strode out, wearing only a towel and a crooked smile on her gamine face. “Forgot my pajamas.”

Only what she pulled from the drawer beneath the television wasn’t as cozy looking as she’d made it sound. A teal silk scrap spilled over her hand, and she walked happily back to the bathroom.

I took the bed she didn’t want and sat on the edge with a long sigh. Then I lay back, staring at the blades of the ceiling fan as they slowly turned again and again. Nope, the cool air didn’t work. Neither did the monotonous motion.

The water stopped and Debra hummed off-key, the sound resonating through the door. I wondered if she realized she was tone deaf and couldn’t help the smile that kicked up one side of my mouth.

When the door opened, she caught me smiling like an idiot. “It’s all yours.”

I gathered my cotton pajamas and headed to the stall. The bathroom smelled of herbal shampoo and a fruity perfume. I stripped and stepped into the stall, then turned on the faucet, not caring if the water was cool or warm. I ducked my head beneath the spray and relaxed. My attraction was transitory. Once I hit the sheets, sleep would consume my lust.

Feeling a mild disappointment that I’d so easily given up my fantasy, I opened my eyes and finished washing, taking care to shave away the bristles on my legs and pussy. So what if no one would know I’d been diligent in my hygiene, I was only stalling the moment I’d have to reenter the bedroom. I hoped like hell she was already in bed, covers pulled up to her neck, because I didn’t think I could take another round of peepshow without salivating.

My pajamas were decidedly unglamorous—a white tank and men’s pajama bottoms. But they covered the essentials, and maybe she’d never know I was interested.

The lights were out when I opened the door. I closed it behind me, plunging myself into darkness, and felt my way toward my bed.

A light clicked on. “No need to stub a toe,” Debra said.

The golden lamplight made her skin glow, and again, my attention was snagged by the sight of her full breasts, this time rounding out the bodice of the short silk nightgown.

“Thanks,” I said, a little too curtly, but I was all out of polite. She had me rattled, starved for sex. How many weeks had elapsed since I’d hit Ben’s apartment for a quickie?

Debra lay down on her side, a hand cupping the breast pressed to the mattress. Did she know she fondled herself? Or was she making fun of me because I’d been staring?

“You know, I asked to be partnered with you,” she said softly.

“Because I’ve worked with Advantage before?”

“Because I thought we’d have fun,” she said with her blue cat’s eyes staring.

I blinked and sat on the edge of my bed. Then I reached for the light switch, but she cut my action short when she slipped the edge of her teal nightgown beneath one breast, exposing it fully.

“You’ve been staring at them so much tonight, I thought I’d end your curiosity.”

Her voice held no edge of derision or disgust. Her smile deepened, a dimple sinking into one cheek.

The breast that spilled out and lay on the white sheet was full, round, topped with a pink nipple that was dimpled, the tip beaded like a small, dusky pebble.

“It’s okay for you to touch.”

Moisture flooded my pussy and my mouth. And I knew I didn’t want to touch her just with my fingers, I wanted to suckle that pink pearl.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said, in her soft, girlish voice.

At work, it annoyed me, that girly tone, but right now, the sound pricked up every hair on my arms and neck. I pried my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “I’ve met him. Seems nice.”

“He won’t mind, Stacey.”

“Mind what?” I asked stupidly, lifting my gaze from her nipple to her amazing eyes.

“If you kiss it.”

No, she did not just say that! My breath caught in my throat. Again, I locked on her face, looking to see whether she was serious.

Her smile deepened and she rolled to her back, the boob framed by the taut silk.

“It’s nice…your breast…but not my thing.”

“Still, you’re curious,” she said, her face turned toward mine. “I could tell. Your cheeks flushed every time I popped a button.”

“I didn’t know if you knew…about the buttons…and didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it.”

Debra’s lips parted, her white teeth flashed, and she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “I get it. You don’t like to make the first move.” She stood.

My hand dropped away from the lamp. I braced my hands on the bed behind me to lean away as she approached, but her eyes narrowed, and her chin firmed. A look that spelled trouble, because I’d seen it once before, when Kenneth Adams said she didn’t have the right stuff to make partner.

She lifted one foot and nudged the inside of one of my ankles, pushing it outward, then bent and clasped my opened knees.

Her breast hovered right in front of my mouth.

“You know you want to,” she whispered, then arched her back and pushed the nipple against my lips.

I opened my mouth to deny it, but she pressed inside.

My tongue pushed back, but lingered on the soft suede of her areola. The small dimples excited my tongue, and I swirled over them. The hard tip popped like those naughty buttons, elongating against the swab of my tongue until I couldn’t help the urge to suck it like a straw.

Her rattling moan echoed mine, and I was too far into this thing now to pretend I didn’t really want it. I reached up to cup the soft, lush breast and feed it into my mouth.

She shoved at my shoulders, pushing me to my back and straddled my thighs at the edge of the bed, her breast still locked between my suctioning lips.

Her body undulated, her pussy rubbing on my lower belly, until the motions and the heat radiating off her skin became too much. I had to touch the rest of her, wanted to let my tongue search out other soft and sweetly responsive parts of her body.

I bit her nipple and shook my head free from under her body. “Too many clothes,” I whispered.

She sat up, and I watched, still trapped between her legs, as she drew up the nightgown and tossed it away. Her skin was pale, her ruff several shades darker than the pale blonde hair framing her tense face. She climbed off me and lay on her back.

Blood pounding, I came up immediately and shimmied out of my tank and bottoms and climbed between her spread legs, not stopping until my torso completely blanketed hers. “Your boyfriend’s pretty open-minded.”

“He wants to hear all about it. Will you mind if I tell him?”

“You planned this?”

Her smile was pure Cheshire Cat. “He likes to watch too.”

“Ever do this with a guy…while he watched?”

“Now, that would be cheating.”

I grunted softly at the hint of mischief in her words. “Does he do it with a guy while you watch?”

An eyebrow arched. “My, you do have a dirty mind.”

“Just curious.” The talk was making me more comfortable—enough to really begin enjoying the heat of soft skin and pillowy curves beneath me.

Her eyes narrowed, the outer corners canting higher. “I’ve watched you. You’re quiet, but those big brown eyes of yours don’t miss a thing.”

“That why you always manage to drop something next to my desk?”

Her finger stroked my shoulder. “I like you to know what color panties I’m wearing, and you’ve never complained.”

“Maybe I was just being polite.”

“Or maybe you were trying to see if I was wet.”

I pressed my lips together, then gave her the smile she’d worked so hard to coax from me. “You were.”

Her eyes widened innocently. “And there I thought you’d never given this a single thought.”

I didn’t answer. I hadn’t thought about this…exactly, but for a long, long time, I’d wanted to know what she looked like naked. I stared down at the breast I kneaded with my hand, and pinched her nipple hard.

Her head tilted back, digging into the mattress, and she gasped hard. “Nice,” she groaned. “All over the awkward parts, I see.”

Again, I huffed out a breath, wondering how she read me so well. We didn’t know each other, not really. But I did feel more confident, and I was ready to give this a try. I scooted down her body, suctioning and biting at her skin, watching her belly jump as I neared her sex.

I paused at her belly button and fucked it with my tongue, swirling inside and pushing against the center as though pressing an ignition button.

And she did catch fire. She gripped my head and pushed me down.

I’d never tasted another woman’s pussy, only my own—on my fingers and a lover’s lips. But I knew how I liked to be touched. I thumbed apart her lips and slid my tongue along her slit, breathing in her pungent, musky aroma and capturing her salty, creamy flavor.

Her pussy tightened; liquid spilled onto my tongue. Her fingers clawed at my hair, trying to bring me up, but I didn’t want to abandon my delicious exploration.

“Give me yours,” she pleaded.

That I would do. I crawled like a crab, circling my ass around, then spread my knees and lowered my pussy toward her face.

Her hands guided me into place, and her lips latched onto my folds and suckled.

Her knees came up. Her hips undulated, a silent plea for me to deepen my search. I pulsed mine above her head and sighed when fingers stroked into my cunt.

Following her lead, I leaned my weight on one elbow, thumbed her clit and tucked my fingers, three of them, inside her. Her lips and entrance clasped and relaxed, over and over, milking my digits. I thrust them deeper and bent to rub my lips over the knot at the top of her sex, peeking from beneath the thin hood. The more I rubbed, the more the hood retracted, exposing her clit. I latched my lips around it and suckled, forgetting the fingers thrusting inside me, the mouth gobbling at my clit, and concentrated on sucking the knot until the rounded head poked out far enough I could work my lips around it. I sucked the mini-cock, flicking it with the point of my tongue inside my mouth, then roughing over the whole bulb with the flat of my tongue while her body quaked and quivered beneath mine.

With a moan, her mouth fell away from me. Her hands wrapped around my ass and her body curled, pumping up her hips. Then she shouted, the sound muffled against my inner thigh, and I let go of her clit and withdrew my fingers, calming her with long strokes of my tongue.

I rolled away and sat up, staring at her.

Her hair was spiked, her face wet with my excitement. I bent and sucked her lips, taking away the taste of me when I leaned back.

Her eyes blinked and her smile, this time less confident, tilted the corners of her swollen lips. “Wow.”

I grinned. “Fast learner, I guess.”

“You didn’t…”

“No, but I kinda like being on the bottom when I come.”

“Give me a minute.” Her hand glided along my arm then she pulled it, bringing me down beside her and we lay facing each other. Her hands stroked over my breasts, squeezed my nipples, then glided down over the curve of my hip.

Her jagged breaths quieted and the suspense flared hotter as I wondered whether she’d follow through or want to sleep. Either way, I was okay. My body was boneless, even without an enervating orgasm. I felt as if I’d climbed a mountain, run a long race—triumphant, self-confident, competent.

At last, Debra pushed me to my back. She snagged a pillow from the top of the bed. “Lift up your ass.”

I let her slide it under me, let her arrange my thighs wide apart, hissed when she traced my slit with her fingertips. But I took a deep breath and dropped my head to the mattress because I had the feeling I wouldn’t want to waste the energy to hold it high and watch.

“I bet you like to be fucked hard,” she said, starchy humor back in her little-girl voice.

I grunted in response, because she’d thrust all her fingers inside me and was twisting her hand while her thumb rasped over my clit.

My pussy ached, my entrance stretched. I hadn’t had a big dick in a long time, and her small hand, even curved to fit, was too much.

“Do you like dick? I mean, do you eat it, rub your face on it?”

“Yessss,” I hissed, my hips jerking because she’d crammed impossibly deeper.

“I love to slurp, make a lot of noise. Would you care if I got messy?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she pulled her hand free and dropped her face between my legs and rolled it in my pussy. When she lifted it, her face was wet, streaks of cream clinging to her eyelashes, her cheeks.

Her smile was devilish and I returned it. She crawled up my body and kissed my mouth, and I tasted myself and licked at the cream as she closed her eyes and let me clean her up.

Our breasts were pressed together, her nipples spiking against mine, and she looked down at our chests. “I’ll fuck you. Then I want to come back to suck a while. Will you like that?”

I nodded, beyond words because my body was hot and tense, my pussy drowning.

She edged off the mattress and padded to the same drawer where she’d pulled out the nightgown and lifted a dildo for me to see.

I wasn’t sure if I was happy or disappointed. I’d liked the personal attention, liked her face between my legs, her soft eyelashes grazing my clit, her nose and mouth rubbing in my juices.

She flicked a switch at the base and sauntered toward the bed.

I lifted my knees higher and splayed my thighs. Now I wanted to watch, so I grabbed for the second pillow to shove beneath my head.

Debra teased my entrance with the gel head, rimming it, just a hint of vibration shivering into me, but enough to get my pussy sucking.

She pulled it free again and bent to kiss my clit and tongue the lips. “You shave, not a single bristle. Mmmm.”

The tip of the dildo dipped inside again, but swirled only once, then trailed downward toward my ass.

Her cat’s eyes glanced up to catch my gaze. “Yeah, didn’t think I’d use it on your cunt, did you?” She used her thumb and finger to open my tiny entrance, then leaned closer and spat.

The dildo swirled over my asshole and twisted around and around, then pushed inside. I’d enjoyed anal play with a boyfriend once, so the dildo didn’t shock me. But the vibrations made it different, made it new.

She worked it inside in slow, sure strokes then turned up the speed.

I was sweating now, my pussy spasming, clasping air. She knelt between my legs and thrust the plastic cock with one hand and used her tongue and teeth to coax my arousal higher.

My whole body shivered, my legs trembled. I cupped my breasts and rubbed them while she stroked her tongue over my lips and fucked my ass. When her mouth latched onto my clit and sucked, I came—so hard my eyes squeezed shut and my breath caught. Everywhere she stroked and licked and bit was too hard, too much—and absolutely perfect.

She eased me down with gentle kisses and long swipes of her tongue over the length of my pussy. The dildo left, leaving my ass a little sore, but pulsing along with the waning convulsions that rippled up my vagina.

Debra kissed my belly then came up my body, resting her head between my breasts. “I knew we’d be good.”

My hands petted her spiky hair. My thighs cupped the sides of hers. We lay shaken and gasping, and I wished we had another day and night to stay inside this room and explore this…thing…we discovered.

“You know, we should set an early alarm.”

“Yeah, work.” I mumbled, not able to deal with verbal communication just yet.

“If we get this bid, I bet Sanders will think we make a good team.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I followed her train of thought.

“He’d send us on more client meet and greets. More presentations.” She lifted her head and caught the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth. “That is, if you’d like to do this again.”

I cradled her face between my hands. “I’ll be your ‘out-of-towner’, Deb.”

“Whew!” She wrinkled her nose. “Thought maybe you weren’t that into this.”

I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t hear that little scream?”

“No, you were gasping, but no moans or screams. Thought I wasn’t getting it.”

My head moved from side to side on the pillow. “I didn’t have the breath to do it out loud.”

A wicked smile eased across her face, and her eyelids drooped. “Liked it that much, did you?”

“Guess you’ll have to prove it wasn’t a fluke.”

“We really should sleep,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “Can’t be yawning in front of the Advantage guys.”

I couldn’t help the laugh. We were anything but tired. “We’ll sleep. After.”

Our lips suctioned together, greedy moans sifting into each other’s mouths.

Debra lifted her head. “I think…you won’t mind so much if he watches.” A hand slipped between my legs, fingers entered my cunt and tunneled deep.

“He can offer suggestions,” I gasped, rolling my hips to fuck the swirling digits.

“But no touching.” Her lips curved, the dimple sinking deep.

I reached up and kissed the end of her snub nose. “Nope. That would be cheating.”

Bordello

Paisley Smith

Paris.

I inhaled, breathing in the earthy scent of the Seine, the tinge of rotted garbage, and the stale fumes of diesel fuel which underlay the more pleasant fragrance of fresh pastries and strong European coffee wafting from the café I walked passed.

My heels seemed to echo off the centuries-old buildings lining the narrow, cobblestone street. Drawing my long trench coat closer, I avoided the bland glances from the outdoor café’s patrons. After all, this was Paris and Parisians were accustomed to seeing grown men and women traipsing down the street in full Enlightenment Era regalia.

Somehow, here, I didn’t look all that out of place with my towering powdered wig and heavily made-up face complete with a star-shaped beauty mark on my highly blushed cheekbone. Other than my pale blue stockings and jeweled pumps, my taupe trench hid the rest of my revealing costume from view.

The clerk where I’d rented the outfit assured me that over-the-knee stockings held up with robin’s egg blue ribbons, an ivory corset, and lacey tulle bustle that barely covered my satin-clad ass, were all the rage at a bordello party.

Costume required.

I’d never much been one for dressing up, not even on Halloween back in my little Georgia hometown. But here, in Paris, the idea seemed so chic, so cosmopolitan. A bordello party. A grin played on my pink-glossed lips. There’d be lots of décolletage spilling over provocative bodices and frilly stockings baring creamy thighs. Not to mention, the girl on whom I had a mad, wicked crush, Amelie, would be there. Also in costume.

I met Amelie during my tenure at the Parisian culinary school I’d traveled to Europe to attend. From the beginning, she’d caught my attention, making concentrating on my studies hard. Her short, loosely curled black hair and petite frame seemed so French. And her accent. Mercy. Butter would melt in her mouth. My nipples hardened and scraped uncomfortably against the coarse lining of my tightly laced corset.

Amelie was everything I’d associated with Parisian women. Stylish, edgy, mysterious. With her thickly lashed, dark eyes and lips just made for kissing, she reminded me of Coco Chanel. And when she’d invited me to the bordello party, I couldn’t have said no. Even though she was the only person in attendance I would know .

I arrived at the building and felt as if I’d been hurtled back in time. Already, the doors to a balcony overhanging the street had been thrown open. Men and women trussed up in pastel hues of blue, yellow, pink, and green stood on the balcony laughing and talking and drinking champagne.

“Savannah!” a familiar voice called down to me. My gaze followed the sound to find Amelie, smiling and waving.

My lips parted and my breath froze in my lungs at the sight of her dressed in a powdered wig with ringlets that meandered over her abundant cleavage. I’d never noticed that she had such a voluptuous figure. Her white corset cinched her waist to such miniscule proportions that any Southern Belle would be envious. From below, I had a stellar view of the lacey pantalets she wore under a set of whalebone panniers designed to hold out an eighteenth century woman’s skirt at the hips. Amelie wore no skirt and when she propped a pearl-encrusted pump on the wrought iron railing, the curve of her bottom caught my gaze. I couldn’t stop staring at the way her soft flesh disappeared into shadow inside those gaping drawers.

Suddenly I was sad that I would be traveling back home in less than two days. I’d finally gotten a date of sorts with Amelie and now it was time for me to leave. I felt like an idiot. All this time, I could have asked her out but I’d been too shy. At school, she always seemed so professional. So quiet.

On that balcony, she looked the part of a seasoned, bordello courtesan.

She leaned over the railing, inadvertently tantalizing me with the mounds of her breasts that bubbled over the beribboned edge of her corset. My mouth literally watered.

“Come up!” she called and then whirled, disappearing inside the flat.

My heart began to pound as I entered the building and climbed the worn stairs to the third floor flat where the party was being held.

Revelers spilled into the hall. Inside, the decor looked even more authentic. A string quartet played Mozart in the corner. Candles were everywhere, casting a warm glow over intricately costumed inhabitants. Champagne and brandy poured freely. Laughter and chatter in French competed with Mozart. Tiers of dainty cakes and treats dominated a table. A scantily clad woman and two men lounged on a period settee.

Amelie wedged through the throng, not stopping until she embraced me—and kissed me on the lips. The kiss was all too fleeting. I had to prevent myself from dragging her closer and kissing her the way I really wanted to.

She prattled about introducing me to her neighbor, the host, and about getting me a glass of champagne. But all I could concentrate on was the flowery scent of her perfume, and the impression her lips had left on mine.

Taking my hand, she practically dragged me around the room, introducing me as her friend from culinary school. Gazes raked me but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t stop looking at the visual feast of costumes and bared flesh. I’d prepared myself that Amelie might have a significant other with whom I’d be confronted.So far, I seemed to be the only person she had invited. Her plus one. I didn’t dare let my hopes soar.

She’d always been friendly but she’d never given me cause to think our relationship might turn sexual.

After two glasses of champagne, my anxiety level all but disappeared. Amelie and I wandered out onto the balcony. Delicate hues of twilight hung like a lover’s whisper over the Parisian skyline. In the distance, the Eifel Tower’s lights glittered, a jewel against the backdrop of gray and brown buildings. Cigarette smoke and the aromas of the café I’d passed earlier mingled in the elusive summer breeze caressing our bare skin.

Chills broke out along Amelie’s arm and without thinking, I rubbed it. Her gaze met mine and held. The gesture I had intended as comfort had obviously turned into something more.

“You like women, no?” she asked pointedly.

I like you. I nodded. I hadn’t come out to my classmates, but I hadn’t necessarily kept my sexuality a secret either. “What about…what about you?”

She chuckled. “This is Paris,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Everybody loves everybody here.” And then she smiled.

With her white powdered face and hair, her pink lips and cheeks looked like a confectioner’s treat. Her gaze drifted down to my breasts and then lifted to my eyes again. “I have seen the way you look at me, Savannah.”

When she said my name, I resisted the urge to close my eyes. I didn’t know whether to apologize or flirt so I just stood there, staring.

She stepped closer and twirled one of the ribbons on my corset around her index finger.

I couldn’t take a breath. Did she know how many times I’d touched myself, fantasizing about her?

A moment passed then she bent and kissed my bare shoulder. “Do you know what a bordello party is, ma minette?”

My head swam. I couldn’t get past the fact that she’d just called me her pussycat in French. The term of endearment made my own pussy flood with cream.

Gently, she put her finger under my chin and coaxed me to turn my head. Inside, breasts were bared. A half-clothed man knelt on the floor with his face buried between of the legs of a woman whose head was turned so that she could give another man a blowjob.

Two men kissed passionately on the settee and others had paired off throughout the flat in various states of undress and sexual positions. The room looked like a real bordello.

“I invited you to be my partner,” Amelie whispered.

My stomach somersaulted.

“Do you want to go inside? With me?” she asked, a finger stroked my cheek.

The breath I’d been holding escaped my lungs in a ragged rush. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”

She enfolded me in her arms. Her mouth covered mine. Claimed mine. My brain screamed that my fantasies were about to come true as I returned her kiss with equal passion.

Kissing Amelie was everything I’d imagined and more.

I wondered what we must look like to the people on the street below. Two beautiful women in barely-there replica undergarments, wearing powdered wigs, kissing like we couldn’t get enough of each other.

Holding her face, I explored her mouth with my tongue. My body countered hers from head to toe, and I slid my knee up between her legs and rubbed my thigh against her clit. Moist heat radiated from her pussy. I cupped her ass and made her ride my leg until she moaned into my mouth.

She broke away from our kiss, leaned back her head, and uttered phrases in French I couldn’t translate literally, but I could imagine what she meant.

“Mon Dieu, Savannah,” she said before lacing her fingers with mine and leading me into the flat.

She pushed down her frilly drawers and I watched as the delicate fabric fluttered down her legs and pooled around her pumps. Freeing one leg, she bent over a gold damask upholstered chair and propped one knee on the cushion. My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I sank to the plush rug, my gaze trained on the succulent sight of her waxed bare pussy and tight little asshole.

Instinctively, I knew this was not going to be anything akin to making love. I was about to fuck Amelie. Fuck her with my fingers and my tongue until she came. A shiver ran over my body. In front of all these people. I peppered the back of one thigh with kisses while my hands skimmed up the softness of her stockings. She inched her knees wider apart as my kisses neared her center. An unspoken invitation.

Her perfume mingled with her own feminine scent, intoxicating me in its power, in its lure. All the chatter had stopped and now my ears filled with the sounds of sexual moaning, of wet suction, and harsh breathing.

Amelie reached between her legs, and I stared mesmerized at the sight of her pink polished nails as she massaged her own peachy clit. Gingerly, I brushed my lips against her flesh.

Looking back over her shoulder, she exhaled sharply through her teeth. “Eat me, Savannah. Eat my pussy.”

I spread her ass cheeks wide and raked my tongue through the slippery folds, thrilling in the way she trembled. I mouthed her, sucking the plush flesh between my lips. My tongue wriggled into her cunt and I opened wide to give her all I could.

Since coming to Paris, I hadn’t been with a woman, and the need to give as well as receive drove me. My nails dug into her bottom, and I pushed and pulled her on my tongue before sweeping higher to trace her rim.

Her knees shook and she muttered words of encouragement in French.

I’d dreamed of this. I’d fantasized about eating her juicy pussy and sweet ass, and now, I was living that dream. I worked my tongue inside that hole while I thrust my finger inside her pussy.

She writhed against my mouth. “Make me come,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Please. Oh…oh, Savannah.”

I wrapped my free arm around her hips and anchored her for my tongue’s assault on her rosette. Wetness oozed around my finger. Her body jerked against my face and when she cried out, her inner tissue gripped my finger in rapid succession.

Finally, she twisted away and flopped into the chair, shapely legs sprawled, the drawers still clinging to one ankle. Her nipples peeped above the top of her corset and I kissed my way up the lace.Then, as I flicked my tongue over each one, she reached under my barely-there skirt, untied the ribbon at the top of my panties, and pushed the fabric down my legs.

Free from the garment, I straddled her. Her fingers delved between my legs, rubbing, probing. I lifted my head to watch her face while she fingered me. All around me men and women, women and women, and men and men, kissed and fucked one another. Normally, I would have been too shy to participate in such a fuckfest but the costume and the location—not to mention the champagne—had stripped me of my inhibitions.

My pussy creamed as I sensuously rode two of her fingers. Eyes locked with mine, she watched my face. “Is good, no?”

“Oui,” I responded, my voice low and husky.

“Ma belle, Savannah,” she murmured before drawing me down to kiss her mouth.

Her tongue plunged between my lips with slow, lazy thrusts that mimicked her fingers. Her free hand worked its way under the top of my corset where she found and pinched one of my nipples.

Bliss inundated me with sudden force. I’d wanted to prolong this pleasure but my orgasm rolled over me before I could quell it. I gasped. Strangled moans emanated from my throat. I pressed my hips down hard on her fingers as she stroked my sweet spot.

When the last spasm left me warm and tingling, she withdrew her fingers and kissed my mouth. “I want you naked and in my bed,” she whispered, toying with one of the white curls dangling from my wig.

Neither of us bothered donning our panties. We picked them up, slipped out of the flat, and stole next door to Amelie’s apartment. As soon as she entered, she raked off her wig.

Her place was everything I’d expected it would be.

A black cat leapt down from a bar that separated a very outdated kitchen from the shabby-chic living area. Amelie scratched the animal on the back of the neck before she stepped out of her pumps and rolled off her stockings. “Will you unlace me?” she asked, disappearing behind the wooden room divider that separated her sleeping area from the rest of the apartment.

I followed her and silently unlaced her corset enough that she could push it down over her hips. Even with her eighteenth century, overdone made-up face, I found her beautiful beyond words. Gone was the voluptuous courtesan and now the coltish, petite Amelie I knew stood before me. Naked.

My hands ached to touch her but first, I wanted out of these confining clothes. I turned and she untied the laces of my corset. Wriggling, I tugged and pulled until I got it down over my hips and pulled it off along with my skirt and stockings.

Her gaze meandered over my body as I removed my wig and shook out my long blonde hair.

“Sacre Coeur, you are beautiful,” she told me as she moved into my embrace.

Our breasts crushed against each other, our bellies molded, and our legs entwined. I held her, enjoying the feel of her satiny skin countering mine, anticipating tasting her again, of feeling the heaven of her lips on my pussy.

In unison, we stroked each other’s backs, bottoms, hips, and reached to explore between soft thighs. I rubbed her mons as she threaded her fingers into my folds. Simultaneously, we cleaved to one another and probed each other’s cunts. I pushed back the knowledge I’d be leaving France in less than two days. I wanted to enjoy this moment, to allow myself to be fully present. Intuitively, I knew I would remember every second of this for the rest of my life.

With her finger still embedded inside me, she moved backward toward the unmade bed. We didn’t release each other until we climbed onto the bed and then back into our lover’s embrace.

I kissed her mouth, one ear, the slender slope of her neck, her collarbone, each breast, and her belly. Her legs flew open as I wedged my shoulders between them, tucked my hair behind my ears, and buried my face in her luscious pussy.

She burrowed her fingers into my hair and held my head captive while she muttered erotic phrases in French. Her hips rolled and I loved the way she ground her cunt against my face.

She came but I refused to stop until she’d come a second time.

Afterward, I lay beside her while she smoked a cigarette, my legs tangled in the mussed sheets.

“Why did we wait so long?” she pondered aloud.

I cupped her breast, studying the dusky pink tip as I caressed her. “I should have asked you to go out with me. I was afraid you’d say no.”

She puffed on her cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the ceiling. “I was afraid of this.”

“Of what?”

“Of loving this so much I couldn’t bear to let you go back to the states,” she confessed. “But I had to know. I had to have you. Even if only this once.”

I snuggled closer. There was no way I could stay in France. I had to go. A job awaited me. My dream job where I could possibly become a head chef. I’d been sent here by the restaurant to train. I couldn’t let them down.

“You will invite me to come see you in Atlanta, no?” she said and snuffed out her cigarette.

“Yes. I will look forward to it,” I told her, relieved that I felt no pressure to make a decision to remain in Paris. “And I know I will be here at least twice a year.”

Twice a year. I sighed. Before tonight, twice had sounded like a lot.

She slid open the draw of her nightstand and withdrew a strap-on. The phallic end was neon green, only about five inches long and one inch in diameter. She waved it at me. “Do you like to be fucked in the ass?”

I responded by getting up on my hands and knees.

She chuckled as she belted on the harness, lubed up the toy and began to tease it around my rim.

I gathered a pillow underneath me and instinctively pushed back. The tip pressed inside my hole. I gasped at the initial sharp pain but when she slowly eased it inside me, the discomfort faded and was replaced with a satisfying fullness.

“Amelie,” I breathed her name. “That feels so good.”

Her hands smoothed over my hips and back as she slow-fucked my ass. Moisture flooded my pussy. She could make me come like this but I needed something more. I massaged my own clit. “Faster. Fuck me faster.”

She worked the little cock in and out of my ass with increasing speed while I furiously rubbed my pussy. I came hard. Waves of intense pleasure radiated from my bottom and my clit. I moaned loudly, not caring if anyone heard. She fucked me until I couldn’t take it anymore, until I begged her to stop. While I still glowed in the aftermath of bliss, she slipped out the cock, rolled me over, and ate me until I found release again.

We spent the night together, sleeping, awakening to make love and then drifting off again. My restless slumber was filled with dreams and visions of the bordello party and of Amelie. Desire raged, rousing me. I parted Amelie’s thighs and tasted her while I masturbated myself to orgasm, and then I slept again, my head against her leg.

Later, I stirred to the sensation of fingers sliding deep into my pussy. When I opened my eyes, Amelie moved over and sat on my face. We ate each other in that position, and after we both came, we slept again.

Time seemed to both stand still and fly. It was late afternoon the next day before I awakened to the welcome aroma of coffee and the acrid aura of cigarette smoke.

Amelie sat on a ragged sofa, wearing nothing but a short, black satin robe, her feet propped on an old trunk that served as a coffee table. “Have some coffee, Sleeping Beauty,” she said, gesturing to a percolator in the kitchen.

Wrapping the sheet around me, I got up, poured myself a cup of Joe and joined her on the sofa. My entire body protested against the delicious ache in the backs of my thighs and between my legs.

“Smoke?” she asked, offering me a cigarette.

“No, thanks,” I said, my voice rough. “God. Is it already four in the afternoon?”

She chuckled softly. “Yes.”

The realization that my flight would leave Paris for Atlanta in twelve hours left a heavy feeling in my soul. I still had to pack.

With a gentle move, she cupped my cheek and kissed me. “I will miss you, Savannah.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” I knew better than to suggest starting some sort of long-distance relationship. Amelie was…well…Amelie. I suspected she could never be wrangled into any kind of commitment.

Although I enjoyed her company, I didn’t know if I was ready for such a thing either.

“I’m glad you came to the party,” she told me.

“That reminds me,” I said. “I’ll have to wear my costume back to my place. That’ll be the weirdest walk of shame I’ve ever made.”

We both laughed.

“I’m sure I have something you can wear,” she said. “Something to remember me by.”

“Oh, I’ll never forget you,” I said honestly.

We showered and then made love again before I donned one of her shirts and a pair of black shorts. My jewel-encrusted pumps did nothing for my ensemble but Amelie’s feet were two sizes smaller than mine. Besides, I didn’t have that far to walk.

After I got back to my place, I packed and then climbed back into bed and exhausted, I slept until time to catch my plane. Going home to Atlanta would be bittersweet. As I walked into the airport, I realized I’d be leaving Paris the way I’d arrived. Alone.

I started toward the baggage check and stopped short when I beheld Amelie dressed in a black skirt and black sweater. Her shiny black combat boots made me smile as she skittered across the airport toward me. I dropped my bags and embraced her, touched that she had come to see me off.

“I couldn’t let you go without a proper Parisian goodbye,” she said before her lips pecked mine. With a raised eyebrow, she cocked her head toward the ladies’ room.

My smile didn’t fade until my plane touched down in Atlanta.

The Hired Hand

Delilah Devlin

The air didn’t move inside the dimly lit barn. It was hot, musty, redolent with the scent of fresh hay and horses—and ripe with sensual anticipation. Work was done for the day. Decision time had finally arrived.

A lasso landed around my shoulders, and I pressed my lips together to hide a smile. I struggled against the waxed hemp, but the rope cinched tighter. Then hands dragged it downward, scraping past nipples already spiking hard against thin cotton.

A hot breath gusted against my ear. “Anything a man can do, I can do better,” came a whispering rasp.

“Why do I feel like breaking into song?” I muttered. I jerked against the rope, but my arms were pinned to my sides. The move was only a show of resistance. We both knew I was hot for what came next. “Should have been a little more specific when I placed that damn ad,” I said, legs braced apart to keep from tumbling to the fresh hay spread on the floor of the stall.

A blanket landed on the ground in front of me.

Muffled footsteps drew near again. “Should have said, ‘Only a cowboy with a dick need apply.’”

I tossed back my hair and aimed a glare over my shoulder. Then my glance fell to what the cowboy in question held in her slender hand. “Looks like you still would’ve qualified.”

Ari lifted both eyebrows, a grin wreathing her face. She wagged the dildo in front of me, taunting me. “Tell me you’re not sorry it was me who showed up.”

My breath caught. Even in the fading light inside the barn, my hired hand’s eyes glittered brightly. “I still have reservations that you can get the job done,” I lied. “I might have been seeking someone to wrangle some horses, but I’d hoped for a little action on the side, too.”

“Like I said, whatever a man can do…” A strong arm wrapped around my waist. “Want me to prove it?”

“Oh God,” I moaned as the dildo trailed down the side of my cheek. “Fuck me, Ari. Fuck me with your big cock.”

A snicker sounded a moment before teeth bit into my earlobe. Then her arms dropped away and cool air rushed against my back. “Gonna be good if I untie you?”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” I ground out.

“You always make me work damn hard,” she growled.

“I warned you I’m not an easy boss.”

Ari stepped in front of me, dark eyes narrowed, skimming over my frame. She drew a knife from the sheath strapped to her leather belt and lifted one brow. “Sure you want to lose this shirt?”

“I’m not going to help you. I told you I’m not into girls.”

“And I love making you eat your words.” The dull side of the knife glided between my breasts.

I shivered as cool steel pressed in a narrow path downward. Ribbed cotton parted, exposing the white skin beneath the ring of tan that ended at my neck.

As the lacy center of my bra was laid bare, one corner of Ari’s lips quirked upward. “Don’t know why you even bother. I like watchin’ ’em bounce.” The bra met the same fate as the shirt, popping open as soon as the lace was severed.

My breasts quivered, rising with my sharp gasp. The air inside the barn sifted around my nipples. My relief as the knife disappeared and my breasts sprang free had me sighing before I remembered I should be putting up a more of a front. “That’s coming out of your wages.”

Ari’s fingers plucked my nipples. “Worth every penny, too.” Then she ducked, and warm, wet lips enclosed one ripening bud.

My head fell back, and my eyes slid closed as she suckled softly. God, had she only been here two days?

· · · · ·

I set aside the shovel at the sound of a horn honking in the distance. Heaving a deep sigh at the interruption, I tugged off my work gloves, lay them over the top of the stall I’d been mucking out, and headed toward the open doors. Sunshine beat down on my head as I stepped outside. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the bright glare.

A white pickup sat in front of the house, a shadowy figure at the wheel. The cab door groaned as it swung outward. The driver slid to the ground. Slim calves encased in wash-softened blue jeans ended above a polished set of cowboy boots.

Maybe someone had come about the ad I’d placed for help. Maybe someone strong, not afraid of little hard work, and in need of a paycheck. I’d posted the “Help Wanted” notice in the local paper over a week ago and had begun to regret the fact I’d stated the wage. The money wasn’t much. Most of the men who’d applied were too old or too inexperienced. I was getting desperate for a little relief.

And if the next cowboy happened to be reasonably attractive…

Well, I hoped they might overlook my sun-baked skin and the crow’s feet that had grown a little deeper with the passing of another summer. Maybe they’d like a little added “bonus” with their paycheck along with room and board. I’d been through a long drought of bed partners and wouldn’t be too fussy.

The figure that appeared with the slam of the door made my shoulders dip in disappointment. I needed a man. A strong set of shoulders and a sturdy back. The slender woman walking toward me didn’t appear to have the muscle to work the horses and help with the outside chores. And she was too damn pretty for my peace of mind.

I drew a deep breath, preparing to be polite but trying to come up with an excuse for turning away the woman that wouldn’t sound like I’d made up my mind as soon as I’d noted the high set of her breasts and the curve of her narrow hips.

“You Miss Kudrow?” the woman asked, her voice sounding a little breathless. Her dark gaze flicked over me briefly before returning to lock with mine.

A jolt of unwanted attraction flared deep inside, but I nodded. “What can I do for you?”

A casual shrug warred with the tension in her shoulders. “I’ve come about the job.”

“You do know I’m looking for a wrangler,” I said, my doubt flavoring my response. “Someone who knows his way around a horse. The job calls for a trainer, maintenance of the pens, mucking out stalls, currying—”

“You think I don’t know how to do all that?” With a jerk, she lifted her cowboy hat and shook out her hair, which fell thick and straight to her shoulders.

The sun caught glints of copper in the dark brown strands, and my breath hitched. Christ, if the girl could do the job or not didn’t matter. I couldn’t let her stay. Horny as I was, I guessed I might be a lot less fussy than I’d ever dreamed.

The woman’s face screwed up into a stubborn frown. “You’re boarding horses…”

“And training them—for personal use mostly, but I also have a couple of reining horses.”

“Plan to enter any competitions?”

I didn’t like the dark glint entering her eyes or the way her lips began to curve. “Maybe…”

“Thought I recognized your name,” she said softer now. “You placed in the Breeder’s Classic last year.”

“Yeah, with Painted Lady.” Because I was beginning to feel guilty about how rude I’d been, I relented a bit. “You into the sport as well?”

Her head shook. “It’s not what I do, but I like to catch any horse events in the area. I barrel-race. But I lost my horse.” Her nose wrinkled. “Lost my boyfriend, too, but I don’t miss him near as much. Needed to leave the rodeo circuit for a while, and here I am.”

I sighed. “Look, I’m sure you know a lot about horses. But what I really need is someone to help me with the day-to-day. You look… nice, but…”

“You think I’ll cry over a broken nail? That I can’t file a hoof or lift a bale of hay?”

“I’m just saying,” I said slowly, wishing I hadn’t decided to be polite. “I don’t think you’ll be happy here.”

“How about a trial? Give me a couple of days,” the woman said, her lush lips settling into a straight line. “See how it works, then make up your mind whether you want me.”

A wash of heat flooded my cheeks. …whether you want me…

“My name’s Ariana Estevez,” she said and held out her hand.

In that instant, I wished my nails were trimmed and my palms not so rough, but the hand that slid across mine had its own share of calluses.

She wrapped her fingers around my hand and pumped. “Two days,” she said.

Because I was exasperated with my lack of backbone, I turned without answering and ambled into the barn, more worried about betraying my interest than being thought rude.

“Guess I’ll unpack later,” Ariana said, striding past me and laying claim to the shovel. She slipped off her pressed chambray shirt and hung it on a post, and then, dressed only in a thin tank that hugged nicely rounded breasts, she dug into a pile of ripe manure.

That first day, I had no complaints about the woman’s work. Ariana dug into a long list of chores, keeping up a steady rate of conversation that passed the hours as we groomed horses, readying them for the weekend when the owners would show up to take them out on the trails. As long as we stayed busy, I managed to tamp down my unfortunate attraction. But work ended just before dark, and I didn’t know how to avoid her without retreating to my bedroom.

Footsteps scuffed across the planked porch, and Ariana lowered herself beside me on the bench overlooking the paddock. From the corner of my eye, I noted the damp hair and the bare expanse of skin that shone like warm honey beneath a pair of cutoff shorts. She’d bathed and smelled faintly of flowers.

I intended only a quick glance at my companion, but my gaze landed on another thin tank top, this one buttoned down the front with the upper two opened. The shadowy wedge of skin between her breasts was bare. Nipples, unfettered by any bra, sprang against the pink cotton.

“Thought since it was just us girls…” she drawled.

With heat flooding my cheeks, I turned away, unable to meet Ariana’s lopsided smile.

“Guess it can get a little lonely out here,” she said softly.

“It can,” I said, feeling a little breathless. “But I like the quiet.”

“Seeing anyone?”

My head swung back.

Ariana’s brow was arched. “Just wondering. Pretty woman like you living all alone out here…seems a waste.”

“Like having a man underfoot to feed and please would make my life easier?” My words rasped from stiff lips. I’d tried that and failed miserably. The breakup had nearly broken me and devastated my bank account.

“Sorry, didn’t realize I’d struck a nerve.”

“Well, you did. How about we just drop it?”

“So, there’s no one steady in your life…?”

I shot her a hot glare, which had her lips pursing in a silent whistle.

“Look, I know you’re not comfortable around me. Want me to guess why? Or how about you just tell me instead of making me play ‘twenty questions’?”

“Like you said,” I murmured uncomfortably, blood starting to pound against my temples, “It gets a little lonely out here. For the most part, people only come to ride on the weekends.”

She snorted. “Ever have a girl?”

Shock had me stiffening and wondering if I’d jumped to a wrong conclusion about where this was heading, because my mind was already in a very nasty gutter. “Do you mean, working here?” I asked, knowing I sounded like I’d strangled on something. “No.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I meant…ever have a girl…in your bed.”

My breath caught. Was she taunting me? “No.”

“Not once? Funny, I thought…” Ariana shook her head. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

We sat in silence for a few strained minutes. But I, who never felt easy in my own skin, never knew the right words to explore a possibility so ripe with dangerous undertones, cleared my throat. “What did you think?”

“That you liked what you saw.” Her hand waved along her length.

My lips parted. And unexpectedly moisture filled my eyes. “You must get all kinds of people coming onto you.”

“All kinds, both sexes.” Her lips curved. “But I don’t mind you looking…” Her head fell back, and she shook out her wet hair. The action made her breasts shiver in a delightful way.

I bit my bottom lip and stared as Ariana’s nipples spiked hard, elongating as I watched.

Her arm reached out slowly and draped across the back of the bench. Her fingers played with a lock of my hair. “You do it with all your hired hands?”

This time, there was no use playing like I didn’t understand her meaning. “Of course not.”

“But it’s nice, isn’t it? The convenience of it?”

“It’s only convenient if the cowboy understands rules.”

Her finger slid along the outer curve of my ear. “Do you have special rules for a cowgirl?”

I closed my eyes briefly, and then aimed a glare her way, hoping she didn’t see how unnerved I was becoming. “I’ve never had a female hand.”

Ariana’s hand slipped over my shoulder and reached down to palm my breast through my shirt. “Is it so different? A man’s hand?”

Warmth from her hand seeped into my skin. “As night and day.”

“Really? It’s just a hand with fingers…” Her thumb and forefinger plucked at my nipple.

“Completely different,” I said, clamping my lips against a tiny sigh. “I’ve never felt so…”

“Hot?”

“Uneasy,” I blurted.

“That’s not good. Want me to stop?” she said, giving my breast another tentative caress.

I opened my mouth to tell her yes, but instead found myself whispering, “I want you to take off your shirt.”

Ariana’s head jerked back and a startled laugh ripped the air. Her arm slipped from around my shoulder, and she turned sideways in the seat. “Anytime you want to stop, just let me know,” she said softly. “I won’t push. Tomorrow, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. If that’s what you want.”

Because I felt a little winded by her enthusiasm, I shook my head. “Since I don’t know what the hell I want, I’ll just play it by ear.”

Ariana smiled, and then gripped the hem of her tank and pulled it over her head. Without meeting my gaze, she cupped her breasts, lifting them and massaging the slight curves. “I’d really like it if you did that for me. My breasts hurt after a long day smashed inside a sports bra.”

Modesty seemed a little ridiculous at this point. I’d asked to see them after all—only a small step further to actually touch them. And the sight did make my palms itch. I reached for her breasts and cupped them gently. The nipples scraped deliciously. Her breasts were light and firm, her skin unbelievably soft. Especially the dark ovals of her areolas, which felt like velvet beneath the pads of my fingers.

Her gaze met mine, and she offered me a smile. Then she looked toward the road leading up to the house. “We’re far enough off the road here that we could both get naked. Want to do that?”

“It’s still light.”

Her glance cut to mine. “Worried I won’t like what I see?”

Absurdly, I knew I wouldn’t be as modest if a man sat opposite me. “I’m older. Not as firm. And I’m carrying too much weight.”

“Think I haven’t already checked out your ass? I’m pretty sure I’m going to like everything you show me. Besides, doesn’t this feel unbelievably naughty?”

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. “Contrary to what you must think about me, I don’t hop into bed with a man this quick.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ariana stood and pushed her shorts down her slender hips, standing unashamedly naked in the dwindling light.

Praying for courage, I shut my eyes and rose from my seat. I untucked my shirt from my jeans and slowly unbuttoned it. The bra came next, and I shivered as my nipples grew stiff, dimpling as soon as I let them out to play. My jeans and boots took a little longer, because my hands were shaking. By the time I was as nude as Ariana, I was smiling, albeit tightly, too.

Ariana’s hands grasped both my breasts, lifting them, forcing the heavy mounds upward. She bent and stroked her tongue over one peak, then the other. “Nice, Lacey. Very nice.”

Then she circled behind me, her hands gliding over my buttocks, around again, until she was gliding over my belly, which had begun to quiver. “You know I’m going to want to taste everything.”

Moisture, quick and hot, slid between my folds. “Shall we go inside?” I rasped.

“Afraid the coyotes might see?” she teased.

“I want something soft under my knees.” I reached out tentatively, and twined my fingers with Ariana’s, then tugged her through the door, leading her through the living room and down the darkened hallway to my bedroom. Inside, I didn’t flinch when Ariana turned on the overhead light.

She headed straight for the bed.

I hovered in the doorway, caught in a moment of indecision. God, could I really do this?

Ariana climbed onto the mattress and sighed as she stretched diagonally across the coverlet. “Mmmm…it’s so soft.” Her legs fell open. Her sex, swollen and deep, dark pink glistened. Her eyelids dipped blissfully as her hand stroked her darkly furred mound.

My mouth grew dry at the lush invitation. “Don’t go to sleep on me,” I quipped, trying to cover my awkwardness.

Her lips pursed in a mischievous grin. “As if! I’m waiting for that sweet pussy to slide right over my lips.”

A cowboy had said the same thing to me, long ago. From him the words had sounded crude, and I’d hesitated. From Ariana, with a naughty light glittering in her eyes, the request was wicked without seeming tawdry.

“How about you let me show you how to love a woman?” she said softly.

I hadn’t known I was worried about not knowing exactly how to arouse this woman, and I relaxed, letting Ariana pull me down beside her until we faced each other on the bed.

“I travel a lot when I’m on the circuit,” Ariana said, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. “And sometimes, I have different partners, women and men, that I pick up. I don’t care too much about whether I please them. I only worry about whether they’ll please me.” Her finger rimmed my lips slowly. “Lacey, I want to show you everything they taught me.”

· · · · ·

In that first night, Ari had opened up a whole new world of sensual delights. And I had been ravenous to discover more ever since. Not that I was ready to declare that girl-sex was my new preference.

I liked dick. Liked a powerful man stroking deep. Strong, muscled arms encircling me. But lovers, the stick-around kind, hadn’t been in the cards for me.

I sighed as Ari’s hands unlooped my belt, loosened my jeans, and slid beneath the waistband to cup my generous ass.

We stood face-to-face in the stall, our gazes clashing.

“Think I don’t know what you like about guy-sex?” Ari stepped back and stripped, making quick work of her clothing until her jeans slid down her hips. She wore no panties, just a black harness that wrapped around her waist, more straps disappearing between her legs. She reached down to the blanket where she’d tossed the dildo and inserted it into the fitting at the front of the harness. The dildo, a long, sculpted gel with exaggerated veins and a pair of firm balls, bobbed between her legs.

“Jesus,” I moaned, my pussy already anticipating the stretch and beginning to throb.

“Wait here,” Ari said, her voice tightening.

“As if I have a choice?” I muttered.

Moments later, Ari reappeared, carrying a wooden sawhorse which she set in the hay and then draped with the blanket. She unlooped the end of the rope which she’d tied off on a post and began to wrap it in a coil, bringing me closer.

I kept up the pretense of reluctance, dragging my feet, but the cock was already working on my body. My cunt was flushed with heat and growing moist. My breasts were so hard and tight I drew back my shoulders, inviting Ari’s gaze, begging silently for her to lean down and bite the straining tips.

But Ari ignored the jut of my chest, gripped my shoulders, and shoved me face-first over the sawhorse.

“This will work better if you take off my clothes, too,” I said hopefully.

A soft snort behind me told me Ari wasn’t taking suggestions, but my pants were pushed past my buttocks, and the dildo nudged between them.

“Jesus,” I whispered again, letting out a deep breath when the moistened tip glided down and slid along my slick folds. I tried to make more space, but my confining clothing kept my thighs bound tightly together. Hands clutched my hips, and the dildo glided slowly forward and back, then withdrew.

One foot was lifted and my boot was removed.

“Guess I was right. It’s easier without clothes,” I mumbled.

The other came off and my jeans were jerked down my thighs. At last, I was naked. I braced apart my legs, opening my sex, begging again for attention.

A rustling sounded behind me, and then moist kisses landed on my bottom. A tongue glided down the crevice between my ass cheeks, circling slowly over my asshole, just long enough to make me worried, but then she stroked downward. Teeth gripped my outer labia, nibbling gently, then lips sucked. Her wicked tongue stroked into my entrance, while a humming groan vibrated against me. Fingers circled over and over on my clit while lips tugged and tongue stroked. I rose on my toes to tilt my ass higher.

Blood rushed to my head and sex. My clit swelled painfully. Then hands smoothed the backs of my thighs as Ari rose behind me and reached over to grip my shoulders, raising my torso while the smooth gel cock prodded my opening.

“God, please…make it deep.”

A slap jerked me, heat rising in short parallel ribs on my buttocks. The cock found my opening, dipped inside, and held still.

“Think I don’t know how to fuck?” Ari whispered. “I’ve had miles of dick inside me. I’ve fucked miles of cunt.”

The words, so coarse, spoken in her tight choked voice, elicited a thrill that released a wash of liquid, engulfing the head of the cock poised at my entrance. “I wish you could feel what you do to me…”

“Think I can’t? Think I’m not going to get off, too? You’re wet and sucking at my cock. When I slam into you, I’m gonna feel it right against my clit.”

“Jesus, just do it. God, Ari.” Again, I rose on toes, trying to back onto the cock, but she followed the movement, and the crown slipped from my channel.

“Hold still. Don’t help. Just feel.” A hand gripped the back of my hair, lifting my head, arching my back. Then her hips slammed forward, and the thick cock rammed deep, pressing deep into my channel, gliding straight until the firm balls slapped my clitoris.

I bucked hard, not caring that she pulled my hair,

Ari wound her hand, tugging my head higher.

Only that one hand held me suspended. My arms were still cinched at my sides and my abdomen was stretched, shuddering as she rocked forward and back, plowing deep, rutting like a man into my sex until my cunt felt hot, the soft tissues abraded by the heavy, veined ridges. “I need more,” I sobbed.

“What’s that?” she said, halting her movements when her belly was pressed against my ass and her cock so deep I felt it at the mouth of my womb. “A cock isn’t enough for you?”

“I need more.”

“Gotta be a little more specific, chica. Want my tongue, my fingers? Will that be enough?”

“Yes. Your fingers on my clit. Your cock ramming deep.”

Ari came out of me, and her hand let go of my hair. My body sagged over the sawhorse. She drew me up gently, shoved the structure to the side, then helped me to lie down on the blanket she’d spread on the fragrant straw.

“I’m gonna fuck you like a man. Face-to-face. But you know why this is gonna be better than anything you’ve ever had?”

As her fingers entered me, I gasped and lifted my knees, letting then splay wide. I shook my head. “Why’s it gonna be better?”

“Because I’m a girl. I know what your clit needs, know just how to touch it to make you spark like a wildfire.”

She bent, lifted the hood cloaking my engorged clit, and suckled it, nursing it with her lips. When I began to moan, she drew back, a wicked light in her eyes again. “Not yet, baby.” She came over me, her breasts pressing into mine, her tight little points rubbing my areolas.

My thighs widened and lifted to bracket her narrow hips. The dildo nudged my entrance and slid inside. With my belly curved toward hers, the base of the cock slammed against my bared clit. It was enough. I was coming apart.

But she lifted her belly and slid a hand between us. Her wet fingers circled on the rigid knot of nerves, and she resumed stroking inside me as she braced herself on one arm.

I met her gaze, read the warmth and approval in her expression. Saw the excitement rising in her darkening cheeks. Her eyes slid closed, her head fell back, and she jolted her hips against mine, losing rhythm as her own orgasm began to spiral.

I curled beneath her, latched onto a nipple, and bit the tip.

With her finger stroking my clit, her cock driving deep inside, and my mouth filled with soft heat, I exploded.

Our cries echoed against the wooden walls. Horses snorted, hooves shuffled uneasily. Then silence fell around us as we both eased to the ground.

She nuzzled my cheek, and her lips slid along my jaw, then lifted. We kissed, lips softly smoothing like butter in shallow circles. The kiss was divine. Rapturous.

When my legs unwound from her waist, and she arched her back to come out of me, I gave a shaky laugh, hoping she hadn’t heard its jagged edge. “Guess I’ll have to give you a raise.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t forget who’s still tied up.”

“The rope’s beginning to itch.”

“Poor baby,” she said, her lips gliding along the rope, kissing the skin rubbed a fiery red. “Was I a little rough?”

“Ari…”

Her head came up, her gaze locking with mine.

“That’s the best I’ve ever had. But there’s a problem.”

“Say it.” Her expression grew shuttered. “It’s not like you’ve spared my feelings up to this point. I’ve been the one trying to prove up my claim.”

“I need the rope gone first,” I said quietly.

She dragged me up and loosened the loop, slipping it over my head.

“The cock, too,” I said, pointing my chin toward the gel cock still bobbing between her legs.

Her chest fell, and she kept her gaze down as she removed it.

I came to my knees and placed my hand in the center of her chest and shoved.

With a gasp, she fell backward, half on the blanket, half on the prickly straw.

I straddled her waist and bent over her, my mouth an inch from hers. “I’ve let you do me, but I’ve never given you a damn thing.”

“Not true,” she said, her voice thickening.

“Shut up. I thought I wasn’t committing to girl-sex if I never gave you pleasure. That’s gonna change right now.”

Her brown eyes blinked. Her lips curved upward at both corners. “Think you know how, little virgin?”

“I think you’re gonna demand a whole lot more from me from now on.”

“Mmmm…” she moaned, her eyelids sliding downward. “I can think of a place or two I want those soft lips of yours to kiss. Sure you’re up for it, Lace?”

“No, baby. I’m going down.”

Then with my face diving between her legs, burrowing into her pussy, I couldn’t pretend any longer that I’d hungered for the stroke of a tongue, the thrust of skilled fingers, and a hard cock from a man.

Ari’s essence, richly and pungently feminine, spilled onto my greedy tongue, and I lapped it up like the starving woman I was.

Her fingers dug into my hair, holding me there as her hips rocked gently up and down. I applied all the lessons she’d taught me about how I liked to be touched to bring her pleasure.

I eased two fingers into her moist cunt and swirled my tongue over her clit. When it grew engorged, I latched my lips around the knot and sucked hard, slipping another finger inside her and pumping relentlessly as her movements grew more desperate and her breaths jagged.

At last, I felt tremors ripple inside her. She shoved her pussy against my face, her abdomen curling toward me, her fingers raking my scalp. Her cries were thin, warbling almost, and then she collapsed against the blanket, her legs splayed like a woman who’d been thoroughly loved.

I crawled upward, snuggling next to her spent body and cupped a breast, massaging to soothe her now.

Her hand covered mine and squeezed. “I take it…” she gasped, “that you don’t have any more reservations about whether I can do the job.”

“You have any about me? Besides, one doesn’t have a thing to do with the other,” I said, pressing my lips to the peaked nipple nearest my mouth.

“Ah hell. Don’t make me think.”

“You’re fine, cowgirl. You’ve got the job.”

Her gaze met mine. “And this? Gonna let this hired hand have the pleasure of your company every night?”

I scraped my callused palm across her belly, and slid my fingers into her folds. “It’s not so different. Your hand. Mine.” I teased her sex with shallow grazes then tucked them inside.

“Glad you figured that out,” she said, growing breathless again.

“Not a man’s hand,” I admitted gruffly. “Better.”

My Best Friend’s Birthday

Paisley Smith

“My birthday’s coming up, and I’ve been thinking,” Angela, my best friend of three years, said.

I switched the phone to my other ear. “About what?” I asked, having detected an almost imperceptible change in her voice.

“I’ve decided and I want to try it.”

Intuitively, I knew—I knew—where this was going, but I didn’t dare hope.

“About one of the things I want to cross off my bucket list. I’m turning thirty this year and I think it’s time,” she said.

I heard the resolve evident in her voice and swallowed. “What’s that? Skydiving?” I knew better.

She chuckled. “Nothing like that. I’ve decided I want to be with a woman. I want to see what it’s like.”

My heart skipped a beat. For the two years Angela and I had been friends, I’d often joked that I found her attractive and if she ever decided to switch teams, I’d volunteer to be her guinea pig. I’d never guess she’d take me up on the offer.

When I didn’t speak, she continued. “I thought about doing it with my friend, Traci, but she’s never been with a woman before, either. The two of us wouldn’t know what we were doing.”

Traci? No! My lips finally started moving. “I’ve been with a woman,” I said, my voice lower than usual. She’d known that already, of course, but the way I said it offered my fragile ego a shred of protection from rejection.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Will you do it with me?”

Hell fuck yes! “I…I could do that.” Already, my clit pulsed as I imagined working my fingers underneath the waistband of her oh-so-feminine panties and kissing her while I explored between her legs.

She heaved a sigh of relief. “You might turn me.”

Oh, I’ll try my best. I laughed. “You wouldn’t tease me, would you?”

“No, I’m drop-dead serious. I’ve already got it all planned out. I’ll get us a room at the Marriott. We can go to dinner and have drinks, and then go back to the room and have sex. I want to try everything. I want it done to me and I want to do it back. I want the whole experience.”

The need to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming welled. Angela really wanted to make love—to me?

“I just want to know what it’s like, and I want to do it with someone I trust and someone who knows how. I don’t want anything to get weird between us. I’m not looking to fall in love with a woman or for the experience to interfere in any way with either of our lives.”

“Of course,” I told her.

“And if I like it, it might be something we could do on a regular basis if we both want to. That is, until either of us starts seeing someone.”

Wow. She had planned it out, down to the last detail. Being organized was one of the things I liked about her.

“My birthday is next Saturday and I’d like to do it then. Is that good for you?” she asked.

“Perfect,” I said, trying in vain to blink away the images rising in my thoughts. I’d never seen her naked before but I’d imagined it a thousand times. Next Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

· · · · ·

Before I got out of the car, I checked my appearance in the rearview mirror. I’d worn my dark hair slicked back into a low ponytail. Minimal makeup and a splash of pink lip gloss gave me a fresh-faced look. My white silk blouse clung in all the right places, revealing the hint of my already hardened nipples. Dress shorts and bare legs would provide easy access when the time came. I’d even gotten a pedicure for the occasion.

I wiggled my expertly painted toes, supremely pleased with the way my feet looked in my dainty heels. Inhaling, I removed my key from the ignition. I blew a breath out as I climbed out of my car and thumbed the button to lock it. I’d come back for my one packed bag after dinner. A smile claimed my lips at what I had stashed in that bag.

After all, Angela had told me she wanted to experience it all.

My heart rate accelerated like mad as the automatic doors to the hotel lobby swung open. Uniformed bellhops greeted me and somehow, I managed to say something intelligible back to them. Music spilled from the lounge, the plaintive strains of a solo feminine voice and a single guitar just soft enough to talk over.

Watching the songbird, Angela sat alone at one of the tables. She sipped her nearly full glass of wine. I wasn’t late but hopefully, she hadn’t waited long. God, she looked gorgeous. Straight brown hair spilled over one shoulder and halfway down her back. Her blouse was unbuttoned just far enough to reveal the curve of one taut breast. My mouth watered at the thought of cupping that breast in my hand, of tasting her nipple.

The thought of making love to her caused my knees to go weak. I didn’t think she’d ever really known just how sexy I found her.

With a graceful move, she uncrossed and then crossed her legs. Her black knee length skirt fell away, baring a tantalizing hint of thigh. And as if she could feel my gaze on her body, she turned and our gazes met.

This was the first time we’d actually seen each other since making our arrangement. My stomach somersaulted. I hoped to God she liked what she saw.

Her lips blossomed into a smile and she stood as I walked into the lounge. Her brown eyes sparkled but her expression betrayed a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Doubtless, mine did, too.

“Hey, girlfriend,” she said and hugged me.

A sultry perfume filled my senses. Her breasts crushed against mine. I brushed my cheek against the softness of her hair, losing myself in that fleeting steep second we embraced.

“I’m already on my first glass of liquid courage,” she said as a black-clad waiter approached. “What are you having?”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” I told him as Angela and I dropped into the twin wingback chairs.

“I’m excited about this,” she said, her eyes flashing.

If I didn’t know what we intended to do later, it would have seemed just like before when she and I met for drinks. A glass of wine. Maybe two. Great conversation. From the moment we met, our friendship had been easy. Our only difference, it had seemed, was my openness as a bisexual woman. Until now. Even though she’d never brought it up, I’d sensed Angela was more than a little curious. She had that lesbian vibe that bis like me, and full-on dykes alike, picked up on.

We’d agreed to maintain our friendship but a part of me thrilled at the prospect of where this might go after tonight. Even if the relationship never went any further, I would treasure the experience of being her first, if not only, female lover.

The waiter returned with my wine and I took a healthy gulp, savoring the crisp flavor. “So, what made you decide to try this?” I asked, curious.

“Bottom line.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m horny. And in the last few years, I haven’t come across a man I wanted to fool with, much less one I could imagine kissing.”

Practical and to the point. I grinned. But disappointment niggled me that she hadn’t responded about wanting to make love to me.

“The only reason I’ve had a man around at all is for fucking,” she confessed. “And I thought if I liked being with a woman, I could have sex and not be bothered by all the game playing that goes on in a relationship.”

“Well, when you’re self-sufficient, there’s little need to put up with somebody else’s bullshit.”

“Exactly!” she said and clinked her glass against mine.

The wine eased my tattered nerves and we fell into a comfortable conversation. Only when I remembered that soon we’d be venturing upstairs to her room did the butterflies return.

At our meal, I barely picked at the basket of crawfish tails I’d ordered. Angela hardly touched her grilled chicken salad. Obviously, we both were ready to get that wonderful, awkward first kiss out of the way.

“Would you ladies like another round?” the waiter asked.

Angela glanced at her almost empty glass and then at me before she turned to the waiter. “Can I take it up to my room?”

“Certainly,” he said.

“Then bring us two more wines, and I think we’re ready for our tab,” she said.

The muscles in my thighs tightened, igniting my already aroused clit. Images of her head disappearing between my parted legs caused my blood to heat. My stomach was in knots. What if she didn’t enjoy it? How would I handle the disappointment? More frightening than the risk of the rejection, however, was the idea she might love making love to a woman—to me.

Only one way to find out.

The waiter returned with our drinks. We signed off on our tab and stood.

“I have a bag in the car,” I uttered hoarsely.

“I’ll take your drink while you go get it,” she said.

Her fingers brushed mine as she took my glass. Our gazes connected. We were about to have sex. With each other. My heart beat against my ribcage like a wild bird trying to escape.

A smile played on her lips. “I’m looking forward to this. Very much.”

“Me, too,” I told her. “I’ll get my bag.”

I hated walking away from her, even for the few minutes necessary to retrieve my bag. But if I wanted to do this right and make this night a special one she’d never forget, I needed the goodies I’d brought along.

Moisture dampened my panties as I walked. My nipples grew so hard they ached in my lacy bra. I hastened my step but when I arrived at my car, my hands trembled so badly I could hardly punch the trunk button on my key fob.

Once I had the bag in hand, I rushed back inside and to the elevators. I wondered what the older couple waiting would think if they knew what my innocuous-looking little bag contained.

We all stepped onto the elevator. My nervousness mounted as the floors ticked off. Finally, the doors opened on the third floor and I looked at the brass plate for the directions to room 317. A slim gold arrow pointed to the left.

The fragrance of Angela’s perfume lingered in the hallway and I breathed it in as I walked toward our room. She’d left the door open a crack so I walked in to find her closing the drapes on a stellar view of the pool and the wide expanse of river beyond that.

Sexy, murky darkness enveloped the room. I pushed the door closed behind me and turned the lock. She stood with her back to me, as she removed her watch and rings and put them on the table. I let the bag slide down my arm and onto the bed as I summoned every ounce of courage I possessed and closed the distance between us, my heels silent on the plush, crimson carpeting.

Ultimately, I was the pro pussy licker. I needed to seduce her, to show her how wonderful sex could be between two women. Moving in behind her, I gingerly raked the silken strands of her hair away from her neck before I pressed the softest of kisses there. At first, she tensed but as I continued to gently kiss and nip her skin with my lips, she relaxed and cocked her head to the side, granting me complete access to the perfumed slope.

My arms snaked around her waist and I drew her body fully against mine. Heat radiated through her clothes. Her breathing deepened until my mouth captured the sensitive shell of her ear. I traced the edge with my tongue and she let out a soft moan as my hands cupped her breasts.

She gasped. Her hands covered mine and held them captive against her. I squeezed gently and felt a tremor pass through her body. Seduction was easy, like this, with her back to me. But when she turned and our gazes met, my bravado faltered.

Her eyes dropped to my lips and then lifted once more. “Kiss me.”

She’d barely uttered the words when we moved toward one another in tandem. The kiss was everything I’d hoped for and more. Our mouths fused. Our tongues mated. Passion flared and I cradled her face in my palms, afraid I’d kiss her too hard. It’d been so long since I’d kissed another woman, I had forgotten how fragile one could be. How deliciously soft.

She held me and I wondered how my slender back felt in comparison to her last boyfriend who’d been in the military. Tongue and lips in motion, she kissed her fill of my mouth and I delighted in her exuberance.

Her hand covered mine and pushed it downward toward the vee of her crotch. I didn’t need any more coaxing to gather her skirt up and cup her hot sex. My stomach tensed at the feel of her silky thighs contrasting the lace panties she wore. The fabric was damp and grew even wetter as I stroked my finger along the hard little ridge pushing against her girly underwear.

Still kissing her, I worked my finger under the leg opening and rubbed her shaved bare flesh. Impatience to lick every last inch of that succulent treat detonated in my being but I fought it. I wanted to prolong the moment, the pleasure.

I also wanted more and this angle constrained me. When I withdrew my finger, she moaned into my mouth but her protest was short lived. Flattening my hand on her belly, I pushed down and into her panties, reaching to possess her sex as I slid my middle finger deep into the wet velvet heat of her passage. Her body felt so good against mine I didn’t want to move or break the spell. For several long seconds, I merely held her, our mouths fused, my finger embedded to the hilt inside her.

Only when she began to move restively against me did I start to finger-fuck her. I found and stroked the sensitive little pad at the front of her inner walls as I kneaded her distended clit with the heel of my palm.

She tore her mouth from mine and laid her head on my shoulder, clinging as my hand worked its magic. And when I increased my pressure on her G-spot, the action pushed her over the edge.

Through clenched teeth, she moaned. Her nails pressed into my back and her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. My efforts were rewarded with several tight, successive spasms of her channel as it milked my finger. She was coming.

“Damn, Holly,” Angela said breathlessly. She lifted her head as I slipped my hand out of her panties.

I couldn’t resist licking her sweet come off my middle finger, and the way her pupils enlarged when I did it electrified me.

“What does pussy taste like?” she asked, her gaze focused on the movements of finger and mouth.

“Yours tastes pretty damn good.”

“Will you show me how?”

I didn’t offer a reply as I reached out and began unbuttoning her blouse. The time for talking was over. I needed to feel her naked and in my arms. I needed to touch her, more it seemed than I needed her to reciprocate. This had to be perfect. Tonight might be my one and only shot with her.

She let me push her blouse off her shoulders. It slithered into a silky pool on the floor. Hard nipples pebbled underneath her lacy bra and I bent to take one in my mouth, knowing she felt the sweltering heat of my kiss through the fabric. She arched toward me and with a flick, I had the single hook and eye on the band of her bra undone. She shucked the garment as if she couldn’t get free of it fast enough.

Her breasts were everything I’d imagined they would be. Slightly full with dark, dusky areolas and taut peachy nipples that just begged to be tweaked and sucked. I took one in my mouth and she dragged in a sharp breath. Her fingers threaded into the hair at my nape and held my head close. I tormented her nipple with my tongue and pushed down her skirt and panties. My hands roamed, exploring the gentle curve of her hips, of her tight ass, her thighs, and in between.

Still caressing her, I closed my lips around her other nipple and sucked it gently.

“That’s so good,” she cooed as she began tugging my blouse out of my dress-shorts.

Straightening, I looked into her eyes as her palms traveled over my skin. So much had passed between us over the years we’d been friends. It struck me that I’d never made love to someone with whom I’d been friends first. The love I felt for her surpassed anything I’d ever felt for another. My trust in her had no bounds.

Terror that sex between us might change things surged hard in me but when she reached out to brush her thumb across my bottom lip, I knew this moment would extend beyond the reaches of our friendship.

Hands trembling, I finished undoing the buttons on my blouse. I shirked out of it as she pushed down my shorts and panties. Her gaze drifted lazily down my body and back up, making me want to both hide and display myself at the same time.

Wondrously, she reached for my breasts, cupping them both, feeling their weight, brushing her thumbs over my nipples. Her palms were so small and soft. I sucked in a breath when her fingers trailed down my rib cage, over my belly, and when she reached further, I trembled like an untried virgin.

She stepped closer, watching her hand as her fingers burrowed into my folds. “I’ve never touched another woman like this before.”

Lack of experience certainly did her no harm. I inched apart my feet, holding my breath as she pressed her fingertips flat against my swollen, aching clit.

“How’s that?” she asked in a breathy voice.

I murmured something unintelligible. I didn’t even know what I’d said. Something akin to fantastic.

“Women’s bodies are so soft. So different.” Her gaze lifted to mine and my stomach somersaulted. “You’re so soft. And so wet. Do I turn you on this much?”

I nodded. Suddenly, I wanted her sprawled on the mattress with my face between her legs. I took her hand and drew her to the big bed. Pillows flew as I yanked back the covers and then coaxed her onto the sheets.

She lay on her back and propped up on her elbows. I pushed her thighs apart as I bent to taste her. The look I detected in her eyes just before my head descended made my pulse skitter. I breathed in her essence and pressed a tender kiss to her inner thigh. I’d intended to tantalize her, to stretch the pleasure as long as possible. I failed. I couldn’t wait and I gave into my desire to devour her beautiful pussy.

A shudder tore through her as my lips closed on her ripe clitoris. “Oh God!” she cried. Her shoulders dropped to the bed, and her legs fell open wide.

I pushed them wider still, knowing the painful stretch contrasted erotically with the warm, wet pleasure I bestowed on her sweet, sweet cunt. I sucked her denuded folds, flicking my tongue over the petals of juicy flesh and then pushing it as far as I could into her pussy. Unable to get enough, I rolled up her hips so I could trace the tip of my tongue around her puckered little asshole before licking my way back to her clit.

She squeezed her own breasts and plucked her nipples as I ate her. When I slipped two fingers inside her pussy, she trembled and began to mewl. Her eyes opened and closed, and her head lifted and then dropped to the bed as she tried her best to watch me.

Cream spilled around my fingers. She tasted like heaven. I latched on hard and pumped my fingers into her. Her legs shook as she made an attempt to buck against my mouth.

“Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh, Holly…”

I lost it when she said my name. Just goddamn lost it. I forgot this was her first time. I forgot to be gentle. I tugged her clit. Hard. I fingered her. Hard. Two fingers, in and out, pressing toward her backbone. I pushed one of her hands out of the way and pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. And when I gave that taut little bud a rough pull, she let out a keening wail of pure, unabashed pleasure.

I wanted to look at her, to watch her come but I didn’t dare let loose of her clit. I sucked, working my fingers while her inner muscles gripped me. Liquid gushed around my hand and onto my chin.

She’d never confessed that she was a squirter and a tendril of triumph swelled inside me at the thought I’d brought her to that kind of orgasm. I smiled as I lovingly kissed her pussy, her thighs, her hips, her pussy again, her abdomen.

Bliss claimed her features as she lay, eyes closed, her hands covering her breasts, with the most beautiful, contented smile I’d ever seen on her lips.

I climbed onto the bed beside her and watched her face as I traced circles on her belly.

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me. A blush pinkened her cheeks. “I made a mess, didn’t I? I’ve never done that before.”

“A beautiful mess,” I said, caressing her soaked pussy as I kissed her lips. Emotions I couldn’t define rumbled like summer thunder inside me. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t go there. But then I realized I’d gone there with Angela a long time before today.

She enticed me to lie on my back.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered, her sweet words causing my throat to constrict with deep sentiment.

Her mouth grazed mine. A tease. I let her play. She nipped at my neck and my earlobe. She kissed her way across my collarbone, and I brushed back locks of her hair, watching her wondrous expression as she laved her way down to one nipple. She brought her knees up under her and kneeled over me as she sucked one breast and then the other. Desire rendered me on the verge of insanity but I forced myself to allow her to explore at her own pace.

My clit throbbed as if it had a pulse of its own. I squeezed my thighs together and moisture dampened my inner thighs. God, I was wet. Wet for her.

I wanted to ask her if she enjoyed it as much as she’d thought but her actions told me the answer to that question. I spread my legs as she moved between them and lowered her mouth.

I hadn’t expected lightning to course through my body when her lips touched my flesh. But the sensation did. Need gnawed me ragged and I struggled to refrain from snatching her head and grinding her face into my pussy.

She kissed me. Softly. Chastely. I clenched my teeth, clinging to the edge of a craving so deep it hurt. Her tongue swept over my clit and I trembled.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her hot breath igniting my skin. She forked open my folds with her fingers, laying me bare. “Pussies are so much prettier than dicks,” she said with a giggle before she tucked her hair behind her ear and descended on my flesh.

My knees lifted. I scrabbled for a toe hold in the rumpled sheets. Her lips closed on my clit and her tongue grazed the sensitive bud. I struggled against the urge to come. I’d wanted to enjoy this but my burning need prevented me from doing anything but surrendering.

She pushed a finger inside me. One, then two. My world spiraled. The two sensations vied for prominence—her sultry mouth suckling my clit and her fingers filling and stretching my cunt. I came more quickly than I ever had. Searing moans tore from my throat. I arched off the bed and rocked against her mouth. Her teeth scraped me. Her lips pulled at me. But she never let go until the last spasm tailed off and eddied away.

Afterward, we lay in each other’s arms. Silence pervaded the darkening room until she drew in a deep breath and braced herself on one elbow. She gazed down at me. “I hope you don’t mind if I’d like to do this on a regular basis.”

I smiled, the promise of future trysts with her playing in my thoughts.

“I was the one who made all the rules up front,” she said, her expression turning serious. “You know? About it being…more…than just a one-time fuck.”

“I understood.”

Her tongue dampened her lips. “I…I think I might want more than that.”

“More?”

She nodded. “Like, a…relationship. Like you and me. Committed to each other. Jesus, I’ve been so scared to tell you this.”

My lips parted in surprise. “Really?” I thought about the situation. As close as we were, we’d been practically monogamous in a platonic sort of way. Until tonight.

“Am I being stupid?” she asked.

I thumbed a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t think I realized what my feelings for you were until we…made love,” she said. Her gaze flicked away and then back to mine. “I mean, I knew that I loved you. I didn’t know that I…I was in love with you.”

My heart skidded to a stop. I swallowed thickly. The only reason I hadn’t recognized my feelings for Angela were because I never dreamed she’d reciprocate. But I did love her. And I was in love with her. My entire being ached with the sudden knowledge. “Oh God, Angie, I love you, too. I do. Are you sure this is what you want?”

A tear trickled from the corner of my eye down to my hairline.

Her own eyes moist, she nodded. “What do you say, babe? You and me? Do you want to try this?”

“Oh, hell yes,” I said, drawing her down to kiss her. I explored her mouth, traced her teeth with my tongue, tasted my own pussy, and lost myself in her arms.

When she finally ended the kiss, she lifted her head and looked into my eyes. Her own eyes sparkled mischievously. “The one thing we’re missing is a cock.”

“Not true.” I laughed out loud and eased off the bed. “I have one in my bag. It’s always hard, it never leaves the toilet seat up, and it has its own harness—and I’m going to fuck the hell out of you with it right now.”

“Happy birthday, me!” she exclaimed.

Only Game in Town

Delilah Devlin

I wondered why I’d bothered changing out of my uniform before hitting the bar. Back in the city, the department had strict rules about drinking in uniform. However here, a circle of black uniforms sat crowded around the table in the far corner, cold beers sweating on the scarred wood.

Lonny James caught sight of me and waved me over. “Make room, guys.”

He said guys, but another female sat among them. Officer Brown, the bicycle cop who patrolled up and down Main Street in little black bike shorts during shopping hours.

I gave her a nod then glanced around the table. Lonny pulled out the chair beside him without rising. I sank into it gratefully and accepted the beer he slid my way.

“So how was your first day?”

I shrugged. Boring might sound rude, like a big city cop telling the rest of them their jobs were cakewalks. “Okay, I guess.”

“Get any looks?”

“What do you mean?”

“We aren’t used to female cops here.”

My glance swung toward Office Brown whose lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’ve already got one,” I murmured.

“Yeah, but…” Lonny wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and apparently had to think a minute about how to respond when he thought everyone should already know. “She’s on a bike.”

What an idiot.

I gave a soft laugh, rolled my eyes at Brown, and sucked down foam as the men on my shift began to talk about their interesting day.

Lonny’s story was the best. He’d intervened between two yard archrivals over a dispute about a sycamore that dropped its pods on the wrong side of a fence. He might not have been all that sharp but his slow drawling recounting of how he’d faced off against men armed with a chain saw and a rake had everyone chuckling, including me.

Lonny’s gaze dropped to my mouth. “You’re pretty when you smile,” he whispered.

I arched an eyebrow, suddenly uncomfortable because his thigh was pushing against mine.

Out of sight of the others, I slipped a pen from my purse and jabbed his thigh.

He jumped, cussing loudly, but when the others glanced his way, he said, “Caught my toe under the chair.

He wore steel-toed boots. Like I said, not the brightest light bulb.

When he settled again, he scooted his chair away. “If I’d known you swung that way,” he muttered loudly, “I’d have suggested you take the seat next to Brown.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” I said, picking up my drink and walking around the table, aware that all eyes in the bar were on me, and everyone was drawing the same conclusion.

I sat beside the Brown, giving her only a quick glance. I didn’t want to assume a damn thing. “He always such a dick?” I muttered.

She laughed and held out her hand. “Ramona, and yeah, he thinks he’s a stud because he has a badge.”

“Cathy.” I offered a smile along with my hand. “Glad it wasn’t just me.”

The officer on the other side of her shook his head. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s the sheriff’s nephew, and Horace knows good and well he’s an idiot.”

“We’re a little light on the formalities here,” Ramona said, eyeing my street clothes. “And they should have assigned you a sponsor—someone to show you the ropes.”

“Really?”

“Sheriff probably didn’t want to assign one of the married guys because their wives wouldn’t like it. You’re too pretty. And he couldn’t assign Lonny, well, because he’s—”

“An idiot.”

We shared a grin. I liked the way her smile pulled up the corners of her eyes, slanting them, betraying a drop of Asian blood mixed with the glorious Creole that painted her skin a lovely dark cream.

“So, why didn’t he give me you?” I said slowly, holding her gaze.

A flush colored her cheeks and she blinked . “He didn’t want you to be offended.”

I nodded my understanding. My instincts hadn’t lied. “Can I request you?”

“There’s not a lot you can’t figure out for yourself.” She stirred a fingertip in the top of her mixed drink.

“That mean you’re not interested?” I asked under my breath, wanting to keep our conversation on the down low.

Her eyes widened, and her glance slid away.

I blew out a breath and looked past her—into her friend’s narrowed glare. I wondered if I’d had her figured all wrong and he was her boyfriend. Or maybe I’d just come on too strong. But I’m not the kind of girl to let a good thing slip away, not if I can help it.

I took another gulp of my beer, trying to figure out how to exit now that I’d shown my ass to everyone.

Chairs scraped. I glanced up to see the men rising, stretching out their arms, and sharing teasing jibes as they prepared to leave.

“Welcome to Canaan,” the guy sitting beside Ramona said. He lifted a brow at Ramona, and paused, but she stayed seated. After a moment, he left with the others.

“That wasn’t at all obvious,” she muttered.

I wrinkled my nose. “I know how to clear a room.”

She gave a scoffing laugh. “It wasn’t about your bad behavior. Jonesy was giving us time alone to get to know each other. He didn’t think you’d want to out yourself your first damn day. It’s a small town. And this is the Bible Belt.”

“It worry you? Them knowing?”

“Only if it bothers you.”

I smiled, relieved I hadn’t blown it. “Fact is, I hoped I’d get a chance to talk to you alone. And I could give a shit less whether they’re disappointed that I don’t swing their way.”

Ramona’s lips pressed into thin line.

I couldn’t tell if she was disapproving of my forwardness or trying to hide a smile.

She cleared her throat. “Most of them are pretty decent—so long as we’re not in their face about the situation.”

I nodded and sat back in my chair, crossing one jeans-clad leg over the other. “You dating anyone?”

“Around…” She shrugged. “No one special. You?”

“Same.”

Shoving away her drink, she planted an elbow on the table and leaned closer. “Look, you’re new. I don’t jump in and out of bed with every available dyke just because too damn few of us live here.”

“And I’m not hitting on you because you’re the only game in town. Besides, I didn’t ask you to sleep with me.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I want to, but I’ll give you a chance to know me first.” Sensing I’d pushed her far enough, I rose, dropped folded bills on the table to tip the waitress, and held out her chair as she rose, smiling but looking a little uncomfortable at the attention we drew.

We parted at the door, exchanging nods, and I headed home. Regrettably, alone.

· · · · ·

The next few days were a little strained around the guys. Word got around. Sly glances followed me everywhere. But since I didn’t rise to any of their innuendos, the excitement faded and they found someone else to hound.

This day, I’d parked my car at the Stop ‘n’ Go. Canaan might be small-town Louisiana, but bandits still preferred the ease of a quickie robbery when they were low on cash. The store had been hit twice in the past six months and the sheriff had promised a “presence” to the owner. So in between calls, I parked in the hot sun at the edge of the parking lot, running my AC with the window open to ease the humidity inside the vehicle.

The whir of spokes catching the wind whizzed by my car. Little black shorts hugging a nicely rounded backside caught my attention.

Ramona halted at the edge of the curb next to the shop’s front door and eased off her helmet. Sweat stained the center of her back, her hair lay in wet tangled spikes around her head. She glanced my way and gave me a smile that set my heart beating faster, and then entered the store.

I opened my car door and dumped the fresh cup of coffee I’d bought just a few minutes before then headed inside.

“Back so soon?” Dolores asked from her seat behind the counter.

I gave a quick glance around the aisles but didn’t find my quarry. “That cup went right through me,” I said, making my way to the restroom in the back.

Once the door swung shut behind me, I quietly locked it.

A toilet flushed. The stall door opened. Ramona stepped out and her eyes widened. “Didn’t hear you come in, Cath.”

“I won’t keep you long.”

She walked to the sink, soaped up, and cleansed her hands, then used a paper towel to wipe the sweat from her face. “What is it you want?”

I leaned against the bathroom door and folded both arms over my chest. “You said we should take some time to know each other. That’s never gonna happen if you’re avoiding me.”

She met my glance in the mirror. Challenge glittered in her golden brown eyes and an eyebrow arched. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Why’d I come here when I could have chosen a dozen other businesses to stop in?”

I raised a brow. “Maybe because it’s public and you could say you weren’t avoiding me and get away with it?”

She grunted, her lips twisting. “Again, what is it you want?”

This wasn’t going well. Again, I felt like I had two left feet. “How about a yes or no?” I blurted. “Wanna go out?”

She gave a feminine grunt. “No.”

The disappointment cut, but I nodded, firming my chin, and began to turn.

“There’s nowhere in public we can go together, Cath. The sheriff wouldn’t like it if we paraded a date. But I’d like you to come over for dinner.”

“Your place?” I said, forcing the words past a tightened throat.

“Yeah. Tonight.” She sauntered forward and tucked her fingers under the sharp edges of my buttoned collar. Her hand twisted, cinching it around my throat and pulling me down.

I’d kissed women before. Even kissed a few men. This was hotter than I’d ever had—even with two layers of Kevlar between our chests.

Her mouth smoothed over mine then suctioned. Her lips were thick and juicy, her tongue rimming me. I waited, not charging in, and was rewarded when her tongue pushed against mine. Just a touch, and then it was gone. I tasted mint. She had to taste the coffee I’d guzzled all day.

She leaned back, her mouth open and air gusting as she licked her lips. “Tonight.” She strode past me.

I heard the snick of the lock as she opened it. The door whooshed closed.

“Oh, fuck.”

· · · · ·

That night, I strolled up the sidewalk, wondering if what I wore would please her. I didn’t want to seem like I’d gone to too much effort in case she wasn’t that into me. But she didn’t need to know that most of my clothes were strewn across my bed because until the last moment, I hadn’t been able to make up my mind.

I wore a short black skirt. Not something I was completely comfortable wearing, but I have nice well-toned legs, my best asset actually, and I wanted her to notice. The t-shirt I chose was tight and casual with a zombie on the front and the word “Brainz…” underneath. Not sexy, but I hoped the skirt would do the trick. Metallic black sandals completed the outfit.

If things didn’t heat up, she wouldn’t have to know I’d decided underwear was too much work.

Before I reached the front door, it swung open. I groaned inside, or maybe it wasn’t as quiet as I thought, because she grinned. She wore a gauzy dress. One of those Mexican cotton things that followed every curve of her slender body. Completely feminine. Completely delicious. And she was naked underneath it. I could tell because the light from the entry hall shone straight through it.

My gaze raked down, then up. Her smile was wide and cheeky when I finally reached her face.

“Not so bad yourself,” she said, her eyelids dipping as she traced the length of my legs. “I like an edgy girl.”

I glanced down at the zombie. “It’s my favorite t-shirt.”

“It’s soft.” She cupped my breast and rubbed my nipple. “I can tell you wear it often.”

I pushed her through the door and slammed the door behind us. “Don’t you care what your neighbors think?”

Her grin was relaxed and infectious. “WWE’s on. They won’t notice a thing not happening on their TVs tonight.” She pinched the front of my shirt and turned, pulling me through her house.

We crossed the living room and headed straight for the kitchen.

“Beer or wine?” she asked, finally releasing me. “I also mix a mean margarita.”

“Beer’s fine.”

She snagged one from the fridge and picked up a half-full wine glass from the counter, then led me back into the living room. The fight played on the TV, but the sound was turned down.

“Why bother if you can’t hear it?” I asked just to start a conversation. I was nervous, horny, and my hands were sweating.

“I wasn’t all that interested in the fight, and I wanted to be able to hear your car.” She curled up at the end of the sofa, her feet under her thighs.

I sat stiffly, wanting to tug her legs toward me and shove up her dress. Instead I drew on my beer, hoping the liquid would cool the heat simmering inside me.

“I heard you had to go to Schwieg’s today,” she said over the rim of her glass. Her eyes sparkled with humor.

Mention of the farmer made my lips twitch. “Have to admit that was my very first pig call.”

“Your virgin pig call?” she said, laughing softly. “Have any trouble?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Pigs are damn mean. Three of us tried to corral a big boar back into his pen.”

“A big boar? They can be dangerous.”

“He didn’t stand a chance against my taser.”

“No!” Her eyes widened and laughter exploded. “You tasered a pig?”

I shrugged, my grin stretching. “What the hell else could I do?”

She wiped tears from her eyes. “Bet Schwieg was ready to shoot you.”

“I still had the taser in my hand,” I said dryly. “He was polite.”

She chuckled softly. “Wish I could have seen that.”

I leaned back against the couch, curling a leg beneath me so I could turn my body toward her. “So, why are you on the bike? They stick you there because you’re a girl?”

“I asked for it. I like the exercise. I get to know the folks really well. Especially the kids. It’s why they made me the DARE officer at the middle school. I’m good with them.”

I shuddered. “Sorry, I can’t see me wearing those shorts. Everybody’d be staring at my ass.”

“You stared at mine. And I didn’t mind a bit.”

I shrugged again, a blush heating my cheeks.

Ramona reached across the top of the sofa to pull a lock of my hair. She twisted it around her finger. “So why’d you leave Houston?”

I liked that she’d made the first move. That she was trying to make me comfortable. “I knew I wasn’t going to get off the streets, and I’d had one too many close calls. I’m not all that into adrenaline.”

She nodded. “I worked in San Antonio before coming here. I moved there with my boyfriend to go to school, but dropped out after two years and applied to the academy. As soon as my initial contract with the SAPD was up, I headed back here. I like the pace.”

“What happened to the boyfriend?”

Ramona wrinkled her nose. “We didn’t work.”

I nodded my understanding. I hadn’t always known what I was either.

Ramona flashed me a sultry look with her pretty brown eyes then set aside her wineglass.

I drew on my beer and straightened, knowing she’d had enough of small talk.

She stretched out her legs in front of her on the cushions and inched up her skirt.

When the hem barely covered the best parts, I groaned. “Enough, already!”

She laughed and curled her finger, inviting me closer.

My beer slammed on the coffee table, and I came up on my knees on the big couch, bending over her and pushing up the hem of her blue dress to uncover her pussy.

Her bush was trimmed, a narrow black stripe that hugged the edges of her tawny lips. I scraped a fingernail over the edge of her fluff, enjoying the feel of the bristly tips.

She raised her leg and hooked an ankle over the top of the sofa, opening herself, inviting me closer. “It’s okay to do more. I promise I don’t bite.

I brushed the bristles again, and bent toward her pussy, drawing in the scent of her sex and a hint of an exotic perfume, something that smelled like incense. “I love the way you smell,” I said softly.

“It’s patchouli oil. You like it?”

I nodded and leaned closer, rubbing my nose on the bare skin of her labia, then licked her there.

She groaned and a hand reached down. Her fingers combed my hair and tugged me closer. “I’ve been dreaming of you tonguing me, Cath. Eating me out.”

“I won’t disappoint,” I said, giving her a wink. Then I inserted my thumb between her folds and scraped it upward, lifting the thin hood that hid her clit. It was swollen and red. I latched onto the nub with my lips and licked and sucked it until her hips began to rock.

Slipping my hands under her ass, I tilted her toward me, burrowing in, my tongue stroking her inner folds, then sliding deeper for a taste. Moisture greeted me, and I drew one hand from under her firm ass and plunged two fingers inside while I worked her clit.

Her moans grew louder. Her fingernails raked my scalp.

I fucked her with three digits and scraped my teeth over her hard little knot, then bit—gently—but enough to shock her into an orgasm.

Her body vibrated and she gave a thin, keening wail while her hips pumped, fucking my fingers, slamming against my mouth.

When her frantic movements slowed, I kissed her inner thighs and lifted my face.

Her smile was strained; her tawny cheeks reddened. Her mouth was swollen as though she’d bitten her lips, and I climbed over her to rest between her spread thighs.

I cupped a cheek and kissed her, stroking her tongue to give her back her flavors, then nuzzled beside her ear while I waited for her breaths to even out.

Ramona smoothed a hand over my back. “I have toys,” she whispered.

I dragged in a deep breath, glad we weren’t done. “Got a dildo?”

“I have a two-headed one. We can fuck each other with it, if you like…”

I grinned down at her, then rolled off the sofa, and stripped away my tee and skirt.

She sat on the edge of the sofa and palmed my buttocks, leaning forward to lick my pussy.

The sight of her dark head between my legs, the feel of her slippery tongue and dainty fingers sliding up inside me, had my belly tightening and moisture oozing down my thighs.

I braced apart my legs, giving her room to explore for a minute or two, and then I pulled her hair to make her stop. “That dildo,” I said, breathless now and so horny I felt on the edge of violence.

She rose slowly, rubbing her small breasts on my belly then letting the spiked tips scrape mine.

I pinched a nipple, pulled it, then let it go. “Move it, Brown.”

She bit her lower lip and glanced from underneath her eyelashes. “Gonna taser me if I don’t move fast enough?”

“Only if that gets you off,” I said, reaching around to smack her ass.

She chuckled. “You get mean when you’re horny.”

“I’ve been wet for a week just thinking about doing you. It’s not nice to tease.”

She darted off, running down the hall toward her bedroom.

I followed, right on her ass, catching her when she reached the bed, and slamming her down, face-first on the comforter. I crawled over her, straddling her rounded butt, bending to lick her neck and give her teasing bites on her shoulders.

Giggling, she fought to roll over.

But I was bigger, stronger—more determined. I slid lower, licking down her spine, until I reached her ass. I trailed my fingers down the crevice and paused to circle her tiny rear hole.

Her breath hitched. “Toys. Under the bed.”

I smiled and backed off the mattress, ready to stop playing and get down to the serious business of fucking her silly.

She rolled to her belly and lay there as I slid off the bed and burrowed under her bed for her “treasure chest”.

The plastic container was filled with vibrators, clamps, and glossy hard plastic and gel dildos in a range of sizes. I chose the one she’d mentioned, the one she seemed most eager to use. It was long, thick, firm, and yet flexible enough to curve with my hands. I made a U-shape and held it up.

Her eyebrows rose.

“On your knees, Brown.”

She didn’t hesitate, coming up on her knees and spreading them when I held one end, pointing it toward her pussy. I fed it inside her, pushing in then pulling it out, working it deeper and deeper until she leaned on a hand and rocked her hips forward and back to fuck it.

Then I moved in closer, sitting on a pillow and opening my legs wide. I leaned back on both hands. “Feed it into me, baby. Fuck me with it.”

She spat on her palm and rubbed the moisture over the tip, then keeping the other end still tucked deep inside her body, she bent over me and nudged the tip against my lips. “I should have eaten you,” she whispered, bending to kiss me quickly. “I’m gonna come quick.”

“I don’t mind so long as you don’t come off the cock. Keep fucking me until you’re hot again.”

With her hand guiding the dildo, she rocked her hips, stroking forward, pushing the head between my lips and entering me. I got my knees under me, for leverage, and leaned way back, meeting her strokes as her movements crammed it deeper and deeper inside me.

Watching the sway of her tits, the way they quivered at the end of a hard stroke, I wished I could take one of the tips into my mouth, but she’d have to rise up a bit first.

“Want it?” she said, cupping her breast, tweaking the tip, and jiggling her breast to tempt me.

I swallowed hard, my pussy swelling, heating around the thrust of the dildo. I shook back my hair and met her gaze.

Who was the aggressor now? Ramona’s smile was wide and wicked. She rose, letting the dildo slip partially out, and then aimed a breast at my mouth.

I rooted at it, teeth and lips clamping hard.

She gave a broken yelp then groaned, straining to slam down on the cock again, but I wouldn’t let the little nipple go. I bit her then soothed the ache with my tongue, all the while staying latched on the breast, suctioning hard enough I felt a quiver rack her body.

“Fuck!” she groaned. “Cath…Jesus!”

I opened my mouth, releasing her.

She slammed down, then stroked forward hard, shoving the dildo into me then screwing her hips around and around so that its ridged girth stimulated every nerve ending deep inside me. Suddenly, she leaned back, reaching down to smooth the kink I’d made at the center of the double-headed cock.

Then we both pushed pillows under our shoulders, and stretched our legs alongside our bodies and shook and shimmied our hips, fucking in tandem, grinding together until we’d swallowed the whole length. Our pussies met in a moist hot kiss, her bristles scraping into my nude pussy.

At the last, I turned my head, scrunching my face, my mouth widening around a silent scream as the tight coil of my arousal exploded.

Fingers crept into the top of my folds, a soft pad swirling on my knot, sustaining the orgasm, making me jerk at the end and gasp because it was so strong, so tight that every muscle of my abdomen, belly, and buttocks clenched hard.

She brought me down slowly, and I opened my eyes to find her sitting up, legs splayed around mine as she petted my belly and pussy.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn’t verbal yet. My mind was mush, my tongue thick. I think my ears were ringing too. “What the fuck?” I finally rasped, cupping my own breasts for comfort as the tremors eased.

“Liked that, did you?” she said, sounding very pleased with herself.

“I think you fucking killed me.”

She scooted back until the dildo fell from her pussy and pulled the other end out of me. Wrinkling her nose, she tossed it over the side of the bed then crawled over the top of me.

With my legs splayed, my body coated in a light sheen of sweat, I know I must have looked like a well-used whore.

She didn’t seem to mind, rubbing her belly and chest against me, and then laying over me like a blanket, her legs between mine. Her mouth rubbed the edge of my jaw, urging me to lift my chin. She licked my neck and slid down to kiss and lick my breasts.

I clutched the back of her head, forced up her head, and came off the bed to kiss her hard. “We’re doing this again.”

“We have all night.”

I shook my head. “No, dating again.”

“This was a date?” she drawled.

“It’s not just a hookup, dammit.”

“You’re right.” She sighed and tucked her head against my shoulder. “It was…nice.”

I held her, brushing her forehead with my mouth. She relaxed inside my embrace, and then a yawn eased her closer still.

She hadn’t argued with me.

“But we’re taking this slowly,” she said, one last stubborn token of resistance.

I smiled. “Sure,” I said, “as slow as you need,” knowing full well that what we had was too hot, too addictive, for us to pull back now.

· · · · ·

The table was crowded after our shift. The pitcher of beer was nearly empty. Lonny stood at the counter flirting with a waitress. Ramona sat beside me. Jonesy sat next to her, grinning because he was the only one who could see her hand tucked between my thighs.

My face was flushed. Sweat beaded on my forehead. One more press of her fingers against the crotch of my pants, and I’d have to learn to walk with my legs crossed because I’d be soaked through.

“So, Cath,” he drawled, “you seem to be settling in.”

The bastard expected me to talk while her fingers strummed my pussy under the table.

Jonesy was her friend, and I’d learned they’d slept together when Ramona had first come to Canaan. Now, they teased each other like sister and brother.

I could use a little less familial love. I narrowed my eyes and clamped my thighs closed, trying to stop her play.

“Heard you were out at Schwieg’s again,” he said, his chest shaking because Ramona was pinching my pussy between two fingers, hard enough that I relented and eased my thighs open again.

“Yeah, can’t believe he asked for me this time.”

“You seem to have a real gift for pennin’ pigs.”

I shook my head, telling him silently that I was going to make him pay.

He only laughed, set down his glass and rose. “You two be good,” he said, softly enough only we could hear him before he called out farewells to the rest.

Ramona leaned in. “Give me five then I’ll meet you at the door.”

“Buck-fuckin’-naked, bitch.”

Her laughter rang all the way to the door.

Lonny glanced over his shoulder, his gaze following Ramona as she left. Then he swung my way and strolled over to the table.

He sat in Ramona’s vacated seat, careful not to move in too close. “You’re all right, ya know.”

I eyed him, meeting his steady stare. “I know that.”

He shook his head. “I made a mistake, but you shouldn’t blame me. You’re a good-lookin’ girl.”

“Thank you, Lonny.”

“If ever…”

I laid a hand on his thigh. “Don’t spoil it,” I warned him.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Gonna take that taser to me, Cath?”

Lonny wasn’t such an idiot after all.

Truth or Dare

Paisley Smith

Who’d have thought that one game of Truth or Dare would alter my world? Specifically, one Dare.

Tension permeated the elevator as my dorm roommate, Portia, and I waited for the doors to open on our floor. She looked down at her coral-painted toenails which peeped provocatively from the open toes of her wedge sandals. My gaze followed the line of her tanned calf and higher where the hem of her tangerine shift fluttered against her thigh. The effects of all four beers I’d drunk earlier had all but worn off, but I still couldn’t keep my eyes off her body.

Portia looked equally as sobered but the way she nervously rubbed her thumb up and down the strap of her purse told me she was still haunted by the game we’d just played with our sorority sisters.

When Portia’s turn had come round, she’d chosen Truth.

One of our sorority sisters had asked her, “Have you ever been with or thought about kissing a girl?”

Portia’s face had flamed once she admitted she’d thought about it. And perhaps the vodka-and-cranberry cocktails she’d drunk had left her uninhibited because she’d added, “A lot.”

The sisters had gotten on a roll with their bi-curious line of questioning. Not wanting to have to divulge my own girl-on-girl fantasies, I’d foolishly chosen Dare when my turn came.

My dare was issued. “Kiss Portia. For at least thirty seconds.”

At first, we giggled. Then our lips touched, gingerly, like a first kiss from grammar school. When one sister instructed that we kiss with tongue, the whole thing changed and took on a life of its own.

Even now, I could still taste her fruity lip gloss and feel the softness of her mouth plying mine, her tentative tongue, testing then slowly probing. My body had awakened in response. My nipples had grown tingly and my clit—oh my clit—had pounded with need while my panties flooded with moisture. Not only had I desired more of Portia’s kisses and her touch, I became overwhelmed with the urge to make love to her. To suck her breasts and taste her pussy.

I’d kissed a girl. And I had definitely liked it.

In fact, I liked it so much, I ached to repeat our kiss, this time, in private. In our room. Away from cheering, jeering sorority sisters.

The elevator doors parted and silently, we stepped out and walked down the long hallway to our room. I swallowed, wondering if Portia was thinking the same thoughts. From the looks she’d given me during the rest of the party, I couldn’t tell if she wanted to experiment further or if she wanted to immediately start looking for a new roommate.

With every step toward our door, my pulse raced faster and faster. Words formed on my lips but I couldn’t bring myself to utter them. Let’s see what it’s like. I want to eat your pussy. I want to make love to a woman—to you.

The wish wasn’t just because Portia was a woman. It wasn’t that at all. We’d been dorm mates for three years. We’d shared secrets and laughs. Tears. But it had never occurred to me that there could be more between us.

Besides, that kiss had affected me in a way kissing guys never had. I’d never really enjoyed kissing. I’d never experienced an orgasm through penetration alone. Come to think of it, the thought of sex with a guy didn’t really arouse me much at all. To me, my reaction seemed normal—until I’d kissed Portia.

The revelation whirled in my head as she unlocked the door and went inside.

“Catie? Aren’t you coming in?”

Realizing I stood there like a dazed idiot, I shook my head and laughed nervously. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m off in another world.” I closed the door behind me. Jesus, my hands were shaking like crazy.

“Yeah, me, too,” she said softly.

Our gazes met and held. My world suddenly seemed off-kilter. I thought for a second that I might even lose my balance but somehow, I remained standing. “That kiss,” I blurted, the words bubbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“That kiss,” she repeated, trying to laugh, too. She failed. Her expression turned serious as she let her purse slide down her arm to the floor. “I…I liked kissing you.”

I stared. But before I could speak, she closed the distance between us, pushed my back against the closed door, and claimed my mouth.

I opened for her. My hands moved over her, down her arms, around her waist, over her back and lower where I cupped her ass and drew her even closer. Her tongue thrust into my mouth. Our teeth clashed but there was no awkward apology. Nor did she lessen her pressure. One of her hands caught my chin, anchoring my head while she plundered my mouth.

I suddenly wanted her naked. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. I wanted to make her come on my fingers, my tongue. Gathering the hem of her shift dress, I pulled it up. She broke free of my mouth only long enough for me to drag the garment over her head and drop it on the floor.

Impatient to touch her again, I covered her breasts. Already hard, her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her pink bra. I thumbed the straps down her shoulders and freed one breast so I could tug the taut tip.

A groan rumbled in her throat.

It was happening. I was about to make love with a woman for the first time. And not with just any woman. Portia. My incredibly beautiful friend whom I’d grown to love.

Her fingers worked the button at the top of my shorts and she slid her hand down my abdomen, under the elastic band of my panties and farther. My breath froze in my lungs. I couldn’t even return her kisses as her middle finger slid through my slippery folds. I trembled as she explored me, her hand held tight against my pussy by my panties.

She reached and that inquisitive middle finger pushed inside my wet cunt. My clit throbbed almost painfully.

She drew back just far enough to gaze into my eyes.

I knew that this moment, and the way she looked, would remain indelibly etched in my mind for the rest of my life. Her blonde hair tumbled wildly over her shoulders. Her swollen lips glistened from my kiss. The blue in her irises was almost obliterated by her enlarged pupils. But more than that. Promise shone in her expression. Promise and trust and fascination. Like I was looking at her for the first time. Really seeing her. My roiling emotions intensified the sensation of her hand searching between my legs.

She slowly knelt, slipping her finger out of my channel so she could skim my shorts and panties down my legs. I freed one foot before she leaned in to press a kiss to the center of my dark brown landing strip. My knees shook as, with both hands, she parted my lips and then trailed the tip of her tongue along the ridge of my clit.

Her hot breath fanned me. The sight of her about to devour my pussy drove me crazy with desire. I’d never experienced anything so erotic. I’d never wanted anybody this much.

A whimper escaped my throat as she inhaled my scent and then covered my flesh with her mouth. Her tongue lapped and licked and flicked. Somewhere in my brain the fact registered that she ate pussy pretty damn well for someone who’d never even kissed another woman before tonight. I sank my fingers into her thick hair and held her head captive as I spread my thighs as much as I could and tilted my hips forward to give her better access to my cunt.

She tipped back her neck so that I was practically riding her face. Passion took over. Holding her head, I ground my pussy against her mouth and when she latched onto my clit, I couldn’t hold back. My orgasm built with a quick ferocity and erupted like a volcano. With my free hand, I clutched at the wall and the door, anything for a hold to keep from toppling over. Not caring if anyone in the hallway heard, I moaned. Out loud. I repeated her name over and over as my climax crescendoed and then faded into a sensuous tingle that left me ready for more.

After a moment, She stood and kissed me again.

The feminine tang of my pussy lingered on her lips and tongue and I wondered if hers would taste as sweet.

I was about to find out.

She reached behind and unclasped her bra. It slithered to the floor and she pushed down her panties, revealing her beautiful, waxed-bare pussy. I’d seen her naked hundreds of times but I’d never seen her like this. Ready for me. For my touch. For my mouth.

She retreated until the backs of her knees came in contact with her bed and then she sat, spreading her legs, showing me the blushed pink folds of her wet cunt.

My mouth watered as I crossed the room, yanking off my top and shimmying out of my bra as I walked. I joined her on the bed, leaning over her and bracing with one hand while I caressed her body with my other. My palm smoothed across her velvety skin, her diamond-hard nipples, her soft belly and thighs and in between to the plush lips of her sex.

Her body undulated as I touched her there, as I slid my fingers through the juicy crevice and thumbed her clit while I explored her passage. Her inner muscles gripped my finger and I made a fist so I could push in as deeply as possible.

She voiced her pleasure in a ragged moan and she lifted her hips to take all I could give her. I straddled her legs and bent to capture one of her nipples in my mouth.

“Catie!” she cried breathlessly as she clung to me and desperately fucked my thrusting finger.

Her pussy clenched hard and I realized she was already coming. A thrill blossomed in my chest that I’d given her such pleasure, and I continued my sweet assault until she fell limp against the mattress. I didn’t give her any time to recover. Instead, I pushed her thighs apart and buried my face between her legs.

She tasted earthy and sweet at the same time. Her own feminine fragrance tangled with the spicy perfume she wore. I loved it and breathed it all in. I plunged my tongue in her cunt and then licked my way to her clit where I sucked and teased.

She practically groveled as I ate her. Her knees lifted. Her hips rolled. She plucked at her own nipples and mewled helplessly while I tortured her swollen clit.

“Oh God, Caitie,” she said and gasped. “Oh God. Fuck, that’s good.”

I cupped her ass and tilted up her hips. I spread her wings open for me so I could lick every inch of her beautiful pussy. She came again, this time, harder than before.

Biting back a scream, she shook violently as her climax shattered her.

Afterward, I moved onto the bed beside her and gathered her in my arms. Holding her like this felt odd. She was so small. It wasn’t like cuddling with a guy. Not at all. But something about the embrace felt right in a way I couldn’t describe. I tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek.

How had all this happened? I knew the play-by-play of course, but some part of me couldn’t believe I was lying here in Portia’s arms. Not once had I feared making love would change our friendship. Now, the thought terrified me. “What are you thinking?” I asked. I had to know.

The long minute it took her to speak caused my stomach to knot. “I don’t know what to think,” she told me. “I mean, that blew my mind.”

“Mine, too,” I added, uncertain of whether or not to be relieved.

“I’m sort of wondering if this makes me a lesbian,” she said starkly.

“Yeah. I guess that kind of crossed my mind, too.” For some reason, my heart had started racing again. Images of being involved in a relationship with a girl darted through my head like a movie on fast forward. I could conceive of it. And I knew—I knew—that I could commit myself to a woman. To this woman whom I’d known and loved for years. I wanted to explore the possibility.

She let out a little laugh. “You know? How easy would it be if we didn’t have to fool with all the bullshit that comes with dating guys?”

“Yeah.” I laughed.

“Have you ever thought about it? Dating a woman?” Her pointed question made my stomach somersault.

“I…I’m thinking about it…now.” She knew me too well for me to try to lie.

Twisting to face me, she propped on one elbow. “Truth or dare?” Portia asked, looking into my eyes.

I stared. “Truth.”

“Could you see yourself…with…me?”

I gnawed my bottom lip. I didn’t want to answer too quickly. But the fact remained, I could see myself with her. I did see myself with her. I nodded.

She searched my eyes. “Truth or dare?”

A smile played on my lips. “Dare.”

She laced her fingers with mine. “I dare you to see where this thing with me goes.”

I slipped my fingers behind her neck and drew her close, and then I kissed her again and again.

The Weekend

Delilah Devlin

I placed the grocery bag on the counter, set down my purse, then glanced around the airy living room of the cabin. Still early on Friday evening—the first night of a lover’s weekend I’d planned down to the last detail.

The view through the large picture window was of a small lake, the water shining without a single ripple to mar the mirror-like surface. A lone figure walked along the bank, hands thrust deep into pockets.

I swallowed hard and hesitated. Did she want company? Did she need more time to think about us, about whether we still “worked”?

That’s what this weekend was all about. A last chance to renew our connection. Or maybe this was goodbye. I could no longer read from her expression what went on inside her head.

I wiped my hands along the sides of my thighs and pushed open the glass door that led down steps to the path winding to the narrow beach.

Kari didn’t look my way as I approached. Her arms wrapped around her middle as she stared at the water. “No problem getting away?”

“No. I had the days.”

“Good. Have you unpacked?” At last, she glanced my way.

Something in her eyes gave me hope. For the first time in a long time, she met my gaze and really looked at me. I smiled. “Not yet. But would you like a glass of wine before we get settled?”

“That and a fire. It’s colder than I thought it would be.” She stepped closer. Her arm settled at my waist, and she leaned in to hug me from the side.

Kari was the kind to kiss friends on the lips or offer a tight hug, so I couldn’t rely on the gesture to mean anything. I draped an arm around her waist, and we walked slowly back to the cabin.

Inside, the fire took me only minutes. I placed several logs and kindling in the grate and as soon as the crackling fire built, the air inside the cabin lost its crisp edge. I pulled my sweater over my head, and dressed only in a tank and my jeans, I sat cross-legged on the hearth rug.

A glass dangled in front of me. “Thanks,” I murmured. “I was supposed to get that. Sorry.”

She sat beside me. “This was a good idea. This weekend.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say, hoping she’d let me know what had been on her mind. We’d been so busy working, too tired and stretched to hook up, that we’d drifted apart. I didn’t like feeling as though I was in this alone—the only one worried that our relationship was on its last legs.

Friends had introduced us, knowing that both Kari and I had dated women before and knowing my preference for waif-like blondes. We shared a lot of the same interests, were close to the same age. I’d ended a long relationship and hadn’t really wanted to fall directly into another, but I did want companionship.

That same night, we’d landed in bed together, the attraction so hot and fast that it took my breath away. She was like that. A bolt of lightning not easily captured. Even from the start, I began preparing myself for it to end.

I must have stared at the fire too long. A kiss landed on my shoulder. A hand slipped beneath the hem of my tank and glided upward to cup a breast. Kari moved closer and her body snuggled against my back.

Again, that urgent desperation to connect filled me. I moved forward and drew the shirt over my head, then leaned back again, letting the fire warm my front, her supple body heat my back. I reached behind me and sank my fingers in her silky hair, waiting.

Lips trailed along my neck. “Wanna fuck?” she whispered and bit my earlobe.

I smiled then shivered because her fingers plucked my nipple a little too hard. “So long as I get a taste and soon.”

Soft laughter gusted against my skin, and she pulled away. I turned to watch as she stripped. She walked naked toward her backpack and drew out a long, thick dildo—one I hadn’t seen before. “I’ve been saving this.”

I lay on my back and shimmied out of my jeans and panties. Watching her rub the gel-shaft around her lips as she walked to me made me wonder again whether she was seeing anyone—someone with a set of balls, because she did love cock.

“Shall I?” I asked, rising on my elbows. Kari liked to be shafted while I sucked her clit.

“Later. I’m going to play first.”

She pressed a heel into my shoulder and shoved me to my back. Then she placed her feet on either side of my hips and squatted. “You have been way too uptight lately.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“You missed this, don’t you mean?” she said, her eyes narrowing into catlike slits. “Margot’s a grumpy girl when she doesn’t get some.” She dropped the dildo on the rug beside me and leaned over me, the change of angle rubbing her wet pussy against my mound.

The humid heat seeped into my skin; the scent of her, musky and pungent, lured my fingers down to play.

Kari groaned as I slid my thumb over her clit. “No fair. I’m supposed to be the one in charge.”

“You are.” I grinned. “I wouldn’t be tempted if you would quit rubbing your pussy there.”

Her laugh was sharp and pained. “Fffuck!” Her eyes closed and she jerked her hips forward and back, grinding her clit on my finger while her moisture dribbled through my own pulsing lips.

She gave one last sexy slide, and then pushed down my body. “Did I ever tell you I love a bald pussy?”

“A time or two,” I gasped. Two fingers stroked inside me, swirling and stretching my entrance. I cupped my breasts and began to rock my hips, trying to lure her deeper or seduce her into putting her mouth where I needed it most.

The flat of her tongue lapped the swelling folds. “I like it almost as much as I like you.”

I glanced down and caught her gaze.

Her nose wrinkled. “I know I haven’t been around much. I needed to think.”

“You get things figured out?”

“Almost.” Her fingers slid away and she reached for the dildo. She tucked the first four inches in her mouth and twirled it, then pulled it away. A string of spit, stretching from her lips to the tip of the soft lifelike cap had me thinking for the first time that I might like to watch her going down on a man. She’d be insatiable. Her hungry little mouth would gobble him up and have him cramming deep into her throat.

“Yeah, hold that thought,” she said, her expression smug.

“Now you can read my mind?”

“Your tits are spiking.” Her wide mouth stretched. “You wanna see me do a dude.”

“What I wanna see is you doing something with that dildo besides teasing me.”

Her laughter tinkled. No other way to describe it, or her. Kari was elflike—small, slender, her frame so narrow she looked like a prepubescent teen from the rear.

I was anything but petite. And I liked the fact I could subdue her with just my weight. Liked the way her eyes would darken when I rolled on top and began to pump my hips. Sometimes, I wore a strap-on, because I knew she liked it. But I’d left it at home, wanting nothing but our mouths and hands this weekend, nothing but ourselves.

Should have known she wouldn’t leave home without one of her own toys.

The cock kicked to life, humming loudly. The first glide landed on my clit, and she held the dildo there until the vibrations made the sensitive knot swell. She pulled away the toy, bent and latched onto me with her lips and suckled, drawing hard twice, then releasing with a succulent pop.

My heartbeats slowed to a deep, rhythmic thrum. I raised my knees and planted my feet wide apart, opening to her, nestling into the furry rug at my back, and resting my head on both my arms so that I could watch.

She stretched my folds and tugged them upward, then leaned closer so that I could feel the warm gusts of her shortening breaths against me. Her tongue trailed along the edges of the outer lips, up and down. The tip of the dildo pushed inside me, just past the flanged ridge surrounding the cap, but no deeper. The humming tantalized and a gentle convulsion rippled up my channel.

The pressure wasn’t enough, and I growled to tell her so.

A smile kicked up one corner of her mouth, and she twisted the cock inside me. My pussy clasped noisily, trying to trap it, but she pulled it out again.

I slipped one hand from under my head and thrust my fingers into soft spikes, tugging hard to punish her.

“What do you want, Margot?” she asked, her voice filled with teasing laughter. “Gotta tell me. Gotta make me hot.”

“Turn your ass around this way, and I’ll make you hot.” I’d wanted to sound surly, but I was panting too hard to be convincing.

“You’ll get your turn. Promise. But if you want more, you’ve gotta give it to me dirty.”

“Fuck. You expect me to be articulate when all I can think about is how fucking hot you look, lying between my legs?”

“There’s a start.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting…

I rolled my eyes and blew out a deep breath. “Okay…I want that plastic penis cramming up inside me and your mouth sucking my clit.”

“Cramming? Like this?” She twisted it, gently screwing it into me, but only about three inches.

My pussy clenched around the shaft, trying to draw it deeper. Again, I growled, frustration making me grind my teeth.

Her lips were set in a straight line as though she tried to keep from laughing.

“I want your hand cupping the fucking base of that plastic prick, and you shoving it up until you’re slapping my cunt. I want all of it, bitch.”

Her lips pursed. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Callin’ me names, now? What if I don’t like that?”

“You fucking love it. Fucking little whore. Fucking cunt.”

Kari giggled and dove down, slurping as she suckled my clit and crammed the dildo deeper.

“That’s it, bitch,” I breathed. “Fuck, yeah. Bite it. Scrape it with your teeth.”

I closed my eyes as she ratcheted up the heat, her mouth sliding over my clit, sucking, her tongue feathering over it, then, at last, her teeth chewing it, every scrape making my body writhe.

“Fucking talented. Oughta sell clit-jobs. Make a fucking fortune.”

She snickered. “You talk like a dude when you get desperate.”

“I know what the fuck I want,” I said, pulling her hair again. “And you talk too much.”

Her lips latched harder, and she shoved the whole six inches deep inside, her hand sliding in the moisture she’d coaxed from inside me when it met my pussy.

My hips rose and fell; moans, one after the other, ripped from my throat. “Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck.” And then the spiraling coil deep inside my belly loosened. I sucked in a deep breath and rode the high, clutching her head with both hands.

When my fingers slipped away, Kari withdrew the cock and turned it off. Then she crawled upward to rest on her side next to me. She caressed a breast, bending to kiss one of the hard little beads. “You know we have to talk,” she whispered.

I sighed. “Yeah, we do.”

“I want more,” she said quietly.

“More what?” The words came out flat, with a tinge of annoyance. I winced inside, but I don’t take rejection well.

“More…company.”

“You want to see other people?” I closed my eyes, bracing for what came next. I could do this. I could share her. I just didn’t want to lose her completely. Maybe that made me weak, but I was falling for her.

“Do you?”

I peeked from beneath the fringe of my eyelashes, trying to gauge what her idle-sounding question really meant. If I said no, would she be afraid to be honest? But I didn’t want to see anyone else. Kari with her sprite-like body and small kitten face was the only one I wanted to hover over while I fucked her.

I gave her a cowardly shrug. My throat was too tight to push out words.

She blew out an exasperated breath. “Dammit, Margot. You aren’t easy, are you?”

“How can you say that? Didn’t you have my pants off an hour after we met?”

“Don’t be smug. I’m serious. Things have to change.”

I sat up and raked a hand through my hair, feeling frustrated and grumpy. “Can we table this until after I make you come?” Maybe if I proved that she wasn’t going to get any better than me, she’d be satisfied. Or maybe she’d just forget about this conversation. I could keep her busy all weekend with my mouth and fingers, keep her turned inside out and fuck-fogged. Then maybe we could put off talking until she loved me as much as I loved her.

Her mouth twisted and her eyes filled.

I bent quickly and kissed her, cupping her head and taking her mouth gently. “Don’t you cry,” I said harshly when I pulled back.

Her mouth crimped tighter.

I shoved her to her back and crawled on top, trapping her legs between mine, wrapping my hands around her wrists, and pinning her to the floor. “This is good. What we have could be fucking great.”

She made a noise, but I didn’t want to hear a protest, and I covered her mouth again, eating her lips the way I wanted to eat her pussy. “Just shut up. Talk later. Told you, I wanna taste.”

When I came up for air, she whispered, “Sometimes, you’re such a bitch.”

“Who’s talking dirty now?”

I scooted downward, hovering over one breast. Her nipples were softer than mine, velvety, puffy little cones—pale peach and just a shade or two darker than the soft skin surrounding them. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“If you like them B-B sized,” she groused.

“I do. Aren’t you lucky?”

She snorted, but she settled deeper against the carpet.

I had her now. I ignored the dildo and buried my face between her legs, sucking on her outer lips, sinking my tongue between them to catch the tangy fluid seeping from inside her.

I thrust two fingers into her pussy, and thumbed her clit, rasping my thumb over the hard, rounded knot.

Tremors shook the thighs tightening around me and made her belly jump. Her head thrashed, her eyes squeezed shut.

I worked two more fingers inside, cupping them to make them fit, and began the rhythmic push-pull while I bent closer and swirled my tongue over her clit, which had swelled past its hood.

She came hard, jerking up her hips. I suctioned harder, pulling with my lips until she let loose a breathless, choked scream and settled again.

Her fingers threaded through my hair and tugged, and I moved up her body, covering her. Resting on my elbows, I cupped her face and kissed her lips.

When I broke the kiss, I framed her face with my palms. “I don’t want anyone but you. But if you need more, if you aren’t ready for the relationship to be just about you and me, I’ll wait until you’re sure. I won’t push.”

Her eyes glittered and her arms wrapped around me. “I was going to ask you if I could move in with you. My lease is up. I need to make plans.”

I held still, trying not to get too excited. “You’re welcome to live with me. You can take my office—”

“Shut up.” Kari pressed a finger to my lips. “I’ll be straight. I don’t know if I’ll never want anyone else again. But I’d like that to be our decision, because I’m with you. We aren’t going to be roommates. I plan to sleep in your bed.”

The tightness in my chest that I hadn’t been aware of until that moment eased. I grinned down at her, watched her expression soften, watched her flick her tongue around her mouth, and knew she wanted me to kiss her again.

The change was enough for now. More than I’d hoped for when I’d arrived. “And to think, we still have two more days…”

Vampires, witches, and ghosts unite to defeat a demon-possessed villain in Delilah and Paisley’s Femme Noir series.

An Excerpt From: BITTEN IN THE BIG EASY
Copyright © DELILAH DEVLIN & PAISLEY SMITH, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Butterfly

Paisley Smith

Flipping open her cell phone, Narcissa shot her sister a text. Am here. Where r u?

She looked around the bar once more, just to make certain Elena wasn’t already here scoping out prey. Two guys, obviously tourists, sat under a television, watching a baseball game. Another man removed a business card from among the thousands thumb-tacked to the wall. Blandly curious, Narcissa focused until the words on the card converged into clear view. Madame LaVeux’s Escort Service. “Everybody’s looking for something,” she muttered aloud as her gaze paused on a café au lait-skinned beauty sitting alone at a table.

Immediately, Narcissa’s attention riveted to the woman’s luscious pair of tits straining to be contained in a tight tank, with cleavage up to her chin and dark, suckable nipples visible through the mass of corkscrew curls meandering around the swollen mounds. Curvy and succulent, the woman stared back, her eyes glimmering gold in the spotlight coming from the area where the band played.

Narcissa gave her a smile and lifted her glass in silent salute. The unsmiling woman gave her one knowing nod. But she wouldn’t be Narcissa’s dessert. The Creole babe was exactly Elena’s type. Narcissa couldn’t help but shimmer with smug pleasure. Wouldn’t her sister be thrilled that she’d saved one for her—for once?

But there was something about the woman that—

“Our bass player’s gonna sing the last one,” a voice rang out over the crowd. “Give it up for Butterfly Baudelaire!”

Narcissa’s attention flicked to where a four-member band moved about on a small raised platform. The group’s bass player, a black-haired hottie, changed places with the lead singer, sidling up to the microphone then checking the knobs on her instrument. Wearing a black tank that showed off her squared shoulders and muscular, half-sleeve-tattooed arms, and a pair of shiny tight pants that fit her long, lean legs like a snake’s skin, everything about this little Butterfly called to Narcissa.

Now, this one is my type.

Wide belts draped around the girl’s boyishly narrow hips. A super-short haircut and black combat boots completed the butch beauty’s ensemble.

“Two, three, four!” She counted the band off with authority as her fingers plucked the bass strings, kicking off the first measures of a heart-thumping, bluesy song. Butterfly practically caressed the mic with her lips, leaning her head to one side so that her black bangs fell across her eyes, before opening her mouth to sing. Her voice rang out, raw and sexy, as gritty as Bourbon Street itself.

Intrigued, Narcissa watched, propping one elbow on the bar and crossing her legs so that her knees aimed at the sultry singer. And then Butterfly’s stare lifted and pinned Narcissa, unfurling through the vampire like the intoxicating warmth of the absinthe flowing into her body. Like blood.

Just the thought of disappearing into a darkened corner with this lip-smackingly Sapphic songbird made Narcissa’s barely there panties dampen. And not just that. Now she had a raging fang-on.

A trickle of perspiration trailed down the side of Butterfly’s face and Narcissa licked her lips at the thought of letting her tongue follow that salty trace right down to—

Bite marks?

Narcissa peered, drawing the wounds into focus. The mark was days old, the purplish indentations where teeth had pressed into Butterfly’s ivory skin barely visible, but there nonetheless. Instinctively, Narcissa’s tongue touched the point of one of her fangs.

She ought to retract them, to look away from the provocative spectacle on the stage. But she didn’t want to. Besides, this new New Orleans belonged to Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris and their multitudes of vampire aficionado fans. A high percentage of the people traipsing up and down Bourbon Street sported fangs, albeit fake ones.

No. If the little Butterfly liked to be nibbled on, then Narcissa was not about to be shy about the fact that she possessed the proper equipment with which to do it.

Gilded Cage

Delilah Devlin

Elena’s secret wish, the one she’d shared only with a priest before she’d ripped out his throat, was that she would ascend to heaven after a very long stay in purgatory. Something the priest had said was impossible due to the horrendous list of sins she’d confessed.

No matter that she’d been forced into this undead life. The moment she’d opened her mouth and accepted Narcissa’s blood, she’d forever outlawed her soul.

At least she’d have good company.

She slipped her phone from her back pocket, sliding down the split screen to check for messages. Nothing since the last text from Narcissa. Am here. Where r u?

Elena grinned and snapped her phone together. The message was from an hour ago. She wrinkled her nose. So she was late. Again. What was an hour to a vampire?

She approached the doors to the Absinthe House, smelled the citrusy, medicinal scent of the liquor for which the house had been named, hints of the burnt sugar lit atop the drink. The odors of sweat and perfume, fresh alcohol from opened bottles and stale liquor oozing from the pores of patrons kicked up her heartbeat.

She dragged in the smells, discovered one intriguing aroma among the snarled pack and zeroed in on it—lush, sweet musk. Feminine. Dark.

The senses she’d honed over time found the sinner. Her gaze tracked over the tables and the people seated at the bar, landing at last on a woman whose unblinking eyes stared right back.

Cissy could wait. This one was too delicious to pass up. The woman’s hair was a mass of shiny corkscrew curls, which tumbled past her shoulders in shades of dark brown, blonde and red. Her skin tone was a milky latté. Her eyes were golden and tilted upward at the outside corners; long, thick lashes sweeping downward to cast shadows against glowing cheeks before rising again so that their glances locked.

The vixen’s mouth sent a thrill through Elena’s body, cinching her nipples, hardening her clit. Her hips swayed a little deeper as she approached. Draga, esti mina. You’re mine.

The woman’s head canted slightly, as though she had heard her, which surprised Elena. Most humans couldn’t hear the suggestions although they acted upon them, thinking they’d formed the thoughts themselves. Perhaps she was a sensitive, one with psychic gifts. There were many in this city.

Elena stopped beside the table. “Are you expecting anyone?”

A glance flitted over Elena’s slim frame. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice oozed like caramelized sugar onto Elena’s skin.

Satisfaction shivered through Elena as she sat in the empty chair opposite the woman and let her own gaze trail lower. Her heart fluttered at the sight of the temptress’s breasts—nipples like dark moons shadowed her gold tank, the tips protruding, lengthening as Elena stared.

Elena’s mouth watered; her tongue scraped the edge of an eyetooth, drawing blood. Her belly growled again, but the music and sounds of conversations flowing around them masked the insistent sound.

The dark-skinned woman lifted a hand from her lap, one long, slender finger beckoning a waitress. “Would you like a drink?”

“Perhaps later.” Elena smiled, dipping her eyelids as she gave the sultry beauty a look that said without words what she hungered for.

A slight, feline smile curved the corners of her generous mouth. “Then we’ll leave. My apartment’s not far.”

Bitten in the Big Easy

Delilah Devlin and Paisley Smith
Femme Noir, Book One

Butterfly by Paisley Smith

Vampire Narcissa Csintalan is in a New Orleans bar, waiting on her tardy sister Elena, when she develops a raging fang-on for the bar’s sinfully sexy, butch bass player. The bite marks on the songbird’s neck put her at the top of Cissy’s must-feed list.

Butterfly Baudelaire has sworn off strays, but the blonde coming on to her has a killer pair of fangs and looks like she knows how to use ’em. Butterfly’s not banking on the bite Cissy takes out of her heart—or the fact that more than her well-spanked bottom is in danger from her vampire lover.

Gilded Cage by Delilah Devlin

Since her turning, Elena Csintalan has wrestled her inner demon on a nightly basis. She never expects her limits to be tested—until she finds herself drawn to a tawny woman whose lush curves make her eyeteeth spike. Before she knows it, she’s dangling inside an iron cage, one that’s frighteningly familiar. And the punishment she endures is oh so divine…

Despite a surprising empathy she feels for the vampire she’s captured, Cassia proceeds with her coven’s plan—drain Elena of her blood at the height of orgasm to complete a potion that will protect them from Elena’s maker. Cassia scried the darkness coming their way, and the monster has a name—the Countess Elizabeth Bathory.

Available wherever ebooks are sold.

An Excerpt From: CHARMED IN THE BIG EASY
Copyright © DELILAH DEVLIN & PAISLEY SMITH, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Under the Rainbow

Paisley Smith

She’d told the manager her stage name was Miss Scarlett. “One of twenty-two this week, but who gives a shit?” the manager had said, writing it down.

And now MeLeah heard her name being announced by the DJ. “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for our premiere solo act, never before seen on the stage, all the way from Hotlanta, Mizzz Scarrrrlet!”

Music pumped. Erotic, heart-pounding music. The vampire blood amped up in response and MeLeah felt as if another person had just invaded her body as she sauntered up the steps and onto the stage. Confidence surged. Her insides tingled in anticipation.

“Where’s your fuck buddy, sweetheart?” one heckler yelled.

“You need me to come up there and stick a dick to you, girl?” another chimed in.

MeLeah ignored them. She was here to raise the energy in the room to untold heights, to absorb it and reignite the talisman’s power. To do that, she had to entertain.

Everybody was looking.

Everybody was waiting.

MeLeah tossed her toys onto the center-stage bed and let the music seep in as she danced her way to a brass pole.

“Show us them titties!”

She winked at the guy who’d hollered that.

“Maybe she don’t like men,” a woman catcalled. In her Budweiser tank and cutoff shorts, she looked rode hard and put up wet.

A raucous laugh rose, competing with the thumping music. MeLeah seized the pole and let her weight propel her gracefully around it. When she faced the audience again, she plunged her free hand under the devil kitty’s face and rubbed her clit as she performed a dance that would put a seasoned stripper to shame. The combination of being watched and playing with herself sent a wave of heat rippling up her spine.

She heard a growl and realized it had torn from her own throat. Her hand worked faster as she planted her back against the pole and rode it up and down to boisterous encouragement from the crowd.

They watched her. All of them. And MeLeah gloried in it. Never had she felt so seductive and sexy. She withdrew her finger and brought it to her lips, tasting her own slick wetness.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

A female voice rose above the crowd. “Whoo, baby! I got a pussy you can eat!”

The talisman swung, the pendant sweeping the bare flesh of her abdomen as she danced. It was time for more.

The Mambo’s Door

Delilah Devlin

Ingrid gave up fighting the attraction she’d felt since the first moment she’d spied the woman sitting on the porch. Marie’s skin was a pretty café au lait, her hair was long and a lustrous, inky black. Her eyes were brown, but with golden lights that reflected the lantern’s glow. Naked, her body was a tomboy’s dream—lush, full curves above and below a trim waist. Marie’s scent ratcheted up Ingrid’s arousal—a pungent mix of herbs and patchouli that drifted over to her with the mambo’s every movement.

The invitation was there. In the half-lidded stare, the pout of her lips, the ruching of her lovely areolas.

Even the slight sway of the cabin on its stilts, the sound of water flooding slowly beneath it, as though the house were a boat drifting on a lazy sea, added an extra layer to the lush invitation. One she wasn’t going to refuse. She had nowhere to go for a few hours anyway. Why not taste the mambo’s passion?

Urgent heat raced through her body, spiking her nipples, swelling her folds. Ingrid slid off her ball cap, released her hair from its clip and shook her head to let it tumble around her shoulders. She scraped her tee from her waistband and pulled it over her head. Then there were hands helping her, pulling down the cups of her bra to bare her breasts.

Ingrid laughed and tossed away her shirt, then unsnapped the bra and let it fall away. She unbuckled her belt, toed off her sneakers and stood while Marie dipped to shove her jeans down her legs.

When she was nude, the two women walked hand in hand to the bed and lay down facing each other.

Marie rubbed Ingrid’s nipple. “It’s been so long. C’est bien.”

“I thought time had no meaning here.”

“Even before. I took male lovers with deep pockets. So much easier to manipulate. My mouth on their cocks enslaved them.”

“I’ll bet.” Ingrid bit her lower lip.

“I’ll bet you’d like my mouth here, wouldn’t you, gal?” Marie asked, thumbing a turgid tip.

Ingrid smoothed a hand over the deep curve of Marie’s waist. “Maybe a kiss of introduction first?”

Marie’s mouth stretched. “Come closer, li’l witch.”

Ingrid inched over until their breasts mashed together, warm skin to warm skin, jutting points scraping. In the glow of the oil lamp their skin was burnished a lovely pale gold and deeper amber.

Marie’s eyes glittered, then she closed them, leaning closer to press her lips against Ingrid’s. Ingrid opened, sighing as the other woman’s tongue stroked her bottom lip then slid inside.

A niggling thought slipped into her mind, that she was making love with a dead woman. One she’d just met and whose kiss set her nerve endings tingling and her belly cramping with desire. How much of it was this place? How much the vampire blood that gave her this desperate hunger?

None of that mattered, not the deeper the kiss went.

Charmed in the Big Easy

Under the Rainbow
by Paisley Smith

Novice witch MeLeah McKinney is on a mission to retrieve a talisman from the grave of Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau. The relic must be energized via a sex-magick ritual—a tall order since MeLeah has no partner. She decides to gather energy at a live sex show on Bourbon Street. She doesn’t count on help from Celestine Laveau’s ghost, who’s crossed the rainbow bridge to bring ecstasy to the young witch—and serve her own agenda.

Defeating an ancient vampire requires not one talisman, but two…

The Mambo’s Door
by Delilah Devlin

Ingrid Kassel isn’t in complete control of her witch powers—especially after drinking a double shot of vampire blood. Attempting to retrieve a candle buried with the Voodoo Queen’s daughter, Ingrid angers the spirit guarding the tomb. She finds herself in a shadowy limbo, where the daughter Marie lives in fear of a demon who also desires the relic. In desperation Marie tricks Ingrid, captures her, seduces her, shows her exquisite pleasure while charging the candle with sex magick…for Marie’s own attempt at freedom from the world of the dead.

Available wherever ebooks are sold.

About The Authors

DELILAH DEVLIN is a prolific and award-winning author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths. She is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Harlequin Spice, Kensington, and Samhain Publishing. She lives deep in the woods in Central Arkansas, drawing inspiration from the Deliverance-like atmosphere and quirky Southern-fried inhabitants. To learn more about Delilah, visit her website at http://DelilahDevlin.com

PAISLEY SMITH is a full time freelance writer and can usually be found in front of her computer either writing, chatting, promoting or plotting. It’s a glamorous life…working in one’s pajamas. She attended college in the Deep South where she obtained a slew of totally useless degrees and developed an unrelenting sense of humor. Her books can be found at Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id, and Cleis Press! Paisley is a member of Romance Writers of America. For more information about Paisley and her books, visit her website at http://Paisley-Smith.com

Table of Contents

Licks

Dedication

Foreword

Riding Bitch

The Out-of-Towner

Bordello

The Hired Hand

My Best Friend’s Birthday

Only Game in Town

Truth or Dare

The Weekend

An Excerpt From: BITTEN IN THE BIG EASY Copyright © DELILAH DEVLIN & PAISLEY SMITH, 2011 All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

An Excerpt From: CHARMED IN THE BIG EASY Copyright © DELILAH DEVLIN & PAISLEY SMITH, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

About The Authors