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"Huh?"
"When I told you earlier that I was a hundred percent lesbian? Yeah, that was like fifty percent true."
"So, you're bi?"
"By definition," she shrugged.
"Well what was all that stuff about your disdain for fucking men?"
"Think about the kind of men I've been with, at strip clubs, at parties, at motels you wouldn't set foot in, let alone lie on your back and spread your legs. Ninety percent of them are selfish pricks that have no clue what a clitoris is, where it's at, or what it does. They know you have a pussy, and if they put their dick in it, it feels good... to them. You can only be fucked so many times knowing your not going to cum because they don't care before you realize you need something different. And that goes for guys I've dated too. Most men I've met are selfish pricks in bed."
"I've had the same kind of luck."
"And we're gorgeous, so what the fuck is up with that," she laughed.
"You got me," Monique snickered.
"I know I'm making it out to be worse than it probably is. And the truth is I don't always get to cum with women... it depends on what they want. After all, they're paying me. But I can honestly say I cum at least seventy percent of the time with women. It's like seven with men. That's why I stopped fucking them and just give blowjobs. I know I won't be disappointed because I literally don't put myself in that position anymore. I admit, I became jaded. That's why I said that."
Monique sat for a minute, thinking about everything Ann had said. She just stared into her dark brown eyes, seeing the life inside them. The fire. She felt the closeness, fueled by the knowledge that Ann was looking at her as a friend. It felt genuine. It felt real.
Ann felt the sole of Monique's foot running along the length of her shin underneath the surface. It was obscured by the bubbling foam from the jets. Ann turned further, facing her more. Her fingers went to Monique's abdomen, moving up toward her chest, but her advances were stopped by her hand.
"Are you sure?" Ann asked, thinking she'd read her signals wrong.
Monique took that question differently, thinking she was still talking about being honest about her sexuality. "I'm living a lie, Rachel. I have a fake name."
"So do I. You can call me Anna when we're alone like this if you want."
"That would be nice. Like I said, I have a fake name. I have a fake boyfriend. Sometimes I feel like my job is imaginary. I show up and smile on camera, but it's a fake one. I can't believe people can't see it in my eyes. I want to feel alive again."
Knowing where her head was at, Ann asked, "Can you afford to risk it?"
"What's the point of living if you're not going to live? I'm going through the motions, pretending. And look, pretending can be fun. I love fantasy. I love roleplaying. I just don't ever do that anymore because I have a public image I'm supposed to maintain."
"So, you have a morality clause in your contract, I take it."
"Yeah. A scandal would..."
"Being gay, or bisexual isn't a scandal. Or a crime. And it's illegal to fire someone for their sexual orientation."
"It doesn't always work that way when you work in television."
"Really? Have you seen the televison show Ellen?"
"Of course. I work for the network affiliate station that airs it."
"Well if you've followed the plotlines, it's obvious that she's gay, and it's just as obvious she's going to come out soon. You can see that's where it's headed. The star is gay in real life. It makes sense. Maybe not this year, but next, they're going to make television history that's long overdue."
"If it doesn't get canceled."
"That would be a shame, because it needs to happen. My point is, there are gay people in television, and gay characters. Hell, Billy Crystal was brilliant as Jodie on Soap."
"Characters are different than a person bringing the news or the weather into your living room. And I won't even mention sports. Heterosexual America wants their sports manly. Nobody that's a sports reporter is coming out of the closet."
"Illegal is illegal, no matter how you slice it. If you came out and got fired, the lawsuit would be groundbreaking. The thing about breaking that kind of ground is it takes someone with a great deal of courage to lead the way. Like Ellen DeGeneres seems to be."
"You're right," she said, biting her lower lip again.
"It's your life, Monique. Only you can decide what's right for you. I just want you to be sure. I care about you, and as much as I want you to live your life honestly, I don't want to see you get hurt."
"I'm having a hard time deciding if your suggesting I come out, or stay in."
"How's your support system? Your parents. Friends. Fake boyfriend."
"Ha! Luke knows. He's always known. And to be honest, he's been good for me. I could do a whole lot worse than having sex with him the rest of my life. He's got a nice cock, and he definitely knows what my clit is for. Even goes out of his way to play with it. We have great sex a least once a week, which is pretty good for a couple that's been together five years. I love him. I'm just not in love with him, if you know what I mean. Or maybe the better way to say it is I love him, but I know he can't fulfill all the parts of me sexually that I need. Like what you did for me last night. The truth is I'm way more into girls than guys, but he's the guy that gets me and accepts me."
"What does he get out of your relationship?"
"Fantastic pussy."
"Be serious."
"I am. Didn't I mention we have great sex at least once a week. He's not fucking stupid."
"What else does he get, Monique?"
"Yeah, okay... he also gets to be with me. Being able to say that he's my boyfriend has been great for his career. He's in advertising. I've done a few commercials for his clients. In front of the camera, or more than that, voice work. I guess my voice is as popular as the rest of me."
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Ann snarked. Monique's register and cadence were distinctive, and sexy as hell. Especially when she'd add a raspy quality for erotic effect.
Monique picked up on Ann's playful sarcasm. "I'd love to touch you with my voice; send goose bumps running on your shoulders. Make your cheek feel warm. Make you bite your lips."
"Funny that you think I'm that easy."
"Charming that you think you'd be impervious to my whims."
"Rather susceptible actually, but I might put up a fight for the fun of it."
"Go ahead, underestimate me. That'll be fun."
That flirtatious banter had them both dripping. Ann was struck by Monique's sudden confidence and intelligent repartee. Monique was intrigued by Ann's quick wit and sexual spirit. They paused, letting the moment percolate for a beat or two. Then Monique moved on, leaving it there to simmer while she finished her original thought.
"I go to functions with Luke. He comes to mine. I hang on his arm; show him affection in public. That kind of thing. He provides me safety. I don't have as many guys hitting on me because they know I live with him. Especially at work. I can't tell you how predatory television stations are. It's a sexist environment. I still have to deal with it, but it would be a whole lot worse without Luke."
"If you came out, how would it effect him?"
"We've talked about it. He'd support me. He loves me too, Anna. He wants what's best for me."
"And the rest of your inner circle?"
"My close friends and family are supportive. My parents have known I've been sexually attracted to girls since I was in junior high. It won't shock any of them. It's the people in my professional circle that are the issue."
"No they're not. You're making them out to be. My suggestion? Don't come out. Not formally. But live the life you want. Embrace your bisexuality. If you're fucking Luke and it works, keep doing it."
"Well I am living with him. We both need sex. And he's definitely way above average in the fucking department."
"Then by all means, fuck away. Just don't be shy about bringing a girlfriend home. If he really knows who you are and supports you, he won't be at all surprised. Actually, he's probably surprised you haven't done it already."
"So what if my peers find out?"
"Play the ignorance card."
"Wait. I'm just supposed to pretend I'm not bisexual? I thought the point was to live my life."
"I'm talking about their ignorance. Tell them you've never hidden who you are, and that it's not your fault the didn't figure it out for themselves. Put 'em on the defensive. Tell them you don't have an obligation to confirm your sexual preferences in order to work. Act like you're normal, because you are. It's the ones that can't handle it that have hatred in their hearts. You don't owe people like that an explanation."
"So act like I've always been this way."
"What act? You have always been this way. You're pretending you're not, and that's why you're unhappy."
Monique leaned forward, lacing her fingers into Ann's long blonde hair. She brought her lips closer to Ann's, almost touching. Ann could feel the heat between them in more ways than one.
"Not anymore," Monique whispered just before they kissed.
They made out in the jacuzzi, lost in the moment. No one was around, but it didn't matter. The pool area could have been crowded with guests and they wouldn't have stopped what they were doing.
Ann was cupping Monique's breasts, the bikini top long since pulled to the sides. Hers was the same, her friend toying with her nipples as their tongues danced. When she tried to move her hand down Monique's stomach, she was stopped again.
"No," she panted, pulling back briefly.
"No?"
"I want to make you cum, Anna. I want you to relax and enjoy what I'm about to do to you."
"What about you?"
"We don't have time. You have a schedule to keep, remember?"
"We could do each other at the same time."
"No. I want to do this. I need to."
"What?"
"I need to give back. You said it yourself... you're anyways making others cum, or giving them what they ask for. You're almost always left out. Not today. Not with me."
Ann relented, knowing they didn't have that much time left. She thought about cancelling her appointment with Janet, but she was supposed to try to get Janet to visit Monique's room afterward if she had time in her schedule. There was no way she was going to miss helping to set that up.
Ann leaned back while Monique moved in. She was alternating between kissing her passionately and sucking on her neck almost abusively. She did everything but leave behind a hickey. Any further foreplay was unnecessary. Ann was so worked up from the story she'd told, and what she'd heard from her friend that she might be dripping for hours. Plus, Monique was an incredible kisser.
Curling three fingers, Monique was thrusting them inside Ann's pussy, massaging her g-spot. The rise to her orgasm was quicker than expected for either of them, but it was on the immediate horizon. Ann's eyes snapped shut, her back arching as it hit. She was about to scream out, but a tongue was shoved into her mouth at the perfect moment.
"UUUUMMMMMMM!" she moaned sexily as she came hard.
Monique was unrelenting, increasing her pace, her thumb finding the magic button that would make her fire off multiple more times. She moved to Ann's ear, licking and nibbling at it. Her hot breath swirled inside, making Ann moan again.
Rubbing her thumb with more pressure, she whispered, "This wonderful little organ is called the clitoris, Anna. It resides at the top on the vagina, at the junction of the labia minora... which are your inner lips. Like vaginas, it's size and shape varies in women, but we all have one. Here's the cool thing. The clitoris has over eight thousand nerve endings, which makes it our most sensitive erogenous zone. What's amazing about that is it only has one purpose. It's specifically designed to provide you sexual pleasure. Nothing else. Think about that. We have an organ that exists just to make us cum. And I'm going to show you just how powerful your launch button is."
Ann came the second she said 'launch button', Monique timing her motions perfectly.
"UUMMMM! UUUUMMMMMM!" she groaned into Monique's mouth a second time.
That was followed by a third. And a fourth. She was shaking, her eyes rolling back in her head. Monique held her, calming her, the intensity of her climaxes making her weak and limp. Monique worried she might slip into the water. She whispered into her ear again, telling Ann she was okay. Telling her to breathe. It reminded Ann of Neil, and how he'd provide loving aftercare whenever she'd been taken to that wonderful subspace deep in her mind when she'd submitted to him as Annabelle.
"Breathe, Anna," she whispered again, using her real name. "Slowly. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. You're doing great. Breathe with me. Feel my chest moving." Ann smiled slightly, her hand finding Monique's left breast, squeezing it. Monique smiled back. "That's my babygirl. Breathe with my chest. Feel it. Match my breathing. You're doing great."
Ann melted inside when she called her that, just like she had when Alphonso said it the first time. It made her feel safe.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ann and Monique had finished their cool down laps, and were hanging onto the edge of the pool in the deep end. Their arms were crossed, lying flat against the concrete surface, their heads resting on the back of their hands as they looked at each other.
Monique had a question on her tongue, and Ann sensed she was hesitating. Her nose wrinkled as she smirked. "Will you just ask it already?"
"Ask what?"
"Whatever it is you're trying so hard not to ask."
"God, it's like you read me like a book."
"What can I say? Good friends are perceptive too. Now out with it."
"Okay. What do you mean when you say you sometimes get paid to get people off, but it's not an orgasm?"
"What do you think that means?"
"See, that's it. I'm afraid to ask."
"Kinks take on a lot of forms, Monique. I won't do anything that involves bodily functions, if you know what I mean. And any sexual fetish that's illegal is definitely off limits. But some people get off on things that don't involve them cumming. Hell, I've had clients that want me to take them to the edge and not let them cum. There are dozens and dozens of sexual avenues you can explore where the goal is to stimulate them in other areas. For me, I love BDSM games in my personal life. I don't get to do that much anymore. It's hard in my position is to find someone I can trust to take me into that space in my head where I'm just existing. I miss it. That mind-fuck can be powerful."
"So you don't do it anymore."
"It's been a long time. What you did to me in the jacuzzi? I could feel myself slipping into that world again. I would have if there had been pain involved. What you did for me to bring me out of my little trance... yeah, I've missed it."
"So you don't do it with clients."
"On the recieving end? Fuck no. I can't let someone tie me up and give them carte blanche to do whatever they want to me. My job can be dangerous enough as it is. I have to protect myself. The only thing that comes close to receiving BDSM in my job is when Andre disciplines me. But that's more to keep me in line. It's not for my enjoyment."
"He does that to you?"
"Occasionally. He spanked me last night after you left."
"What? Why?"
"I'm not going to get into that, but I had it coming. It happened at the beginning of the night. I knew for nine hours how my night was going to end. Spanked until I'm bawling, and then having him jam that huge cock of his down my throat. I will say that's one of the fringe benefits of having him as my pimp though."
"Getting spanked and face fucked?"
"In a manner of speaking. I'm talking about his cock. It's cocks like his that keep me from totally swearing off men altogether. His is mammoth. The man is blessed."
"Ha! Good to know, although I'm not really sure why. Can I ask another question?"
"Of course."
"Do you ever administer it. I mean...."
"You want to know if I'm a switch, and the answer is yes."
"That's what I wanted to know? I'm not even sure what a switch is."
"In that world, it's pretty simple. It's the uniformed that tend make it more complicated, because they actually oversimplify it. BDSM is an interesting acronym. It seems easy to understand, but it's actually often misunderstood. People think they get it. They think it's all one thing, and that's about tying someone up and just having sex, with some kind pain involved."
"I'm intrigued. Enlighten me."
"Okay. Let me break it down. The B and D together stand for bondage and discipline. It's somewhat self explanatory, but in part it encompasses the practice of restricting movement, and adding the element of physical and mental challenges to endure."
"You make it sound almost pleasant."
"Trust me, it absolutely can be. It just takes patience and the ability to trust your body to achieve it. The S and M together have been well known for ages. They're the clinical terms for sadism and masochism. The ying and the yang of that world, for lack of a better way of explaining it."
"Now who's oversimplifying?" she laughed.
"Well I fail to believe you don't have a basic understanding. But fine. It's based on the writings of Marquis de Sade in the early 1800s. But Freud studied them in the early 1900s, which gave credence to de Sade's work. He wasn't looked on as such a quack. Over time there were more studies, and along with that came acceptance in circles that were open-minded. You can find dozens of books on the subject."
"Okay," she giggled. "You proved your point."
"Actually, I haven't. Most people think that's it. Bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism. BDSM. But the breakdown is really three pairs. BD, DS and SM. They overlook the pair in the middle, which are just as important. The D and S together stand for dominant and submissive. Two people, one in total control of the others sexual experience. In reality, it can be even more than that. Some dominants are responsible for all parts of their submissive's life. What they eat. When they sleep. What they wear. It's more of a life commitment than just a sexual experience."
"Holy fuck. I didn't know that."
"I didn't know the inner lips of my cunt is called the labia minora. Or that my clit has eight thousand nerve endings."
Monique shrugged. "I did very, very well in the sciences. That's why I'm a meteorologist."
"Well, I obviously didn't go to college, but I've earned an honorary degree in sexual relations over the years. The person in the dominant role is called a top. The one in the submissive position is a bottom. Someone that's able to comfortable transition from one to the other is called a switch. It's rare that you'd be both at the same time, but it's possible. Usually you go into a session with your role defined. If you're a switch, that is the first thing that needs to be made clear. Two people can't lead the dance. One leads, the other follows. The biggest tenants are trust and communication, both verbal and nonverbal. A top has to be able to read their bottom, even when they are in a state of mind where they can't speak."
"And you're experienced at that?"
"I'm experienced at both. I much prefer being a bottom, but my job has given me opportunities to be a top. I will say most of those turn out to be failed experiences. People hire me thinking they know what they want, or what they're getting into. Almost all of them haven't a clue."
"Why is that?"
"They think they understand the concept of pain mixed with pleasure. The idea of using pain to release the endorphins our body builds up. But they wimp out before they ever reach a level that can bring them to that state of sexual nirvana I'm talking about. They think they can't handle anymore, and they use their safe word. I have a rule that once they pull that trigger, the session is over. There's no reset."
