Art for Art's Sake

Angie just stared at her, unsettled and unsure what to say.

'I mean it,' Sandra went on. 'I don't fancy many other girls but you send out signals like a lighthouse. I so, so want to shag with you. And I don't care if you are already involved with someone else; I need to shag with you urgently.'

'Listen, Sandra, I'm flattered and I . . . I . . .'

'Don't dare brush me off like that!'

Angie sighed deeply. Considered Ronnie for maybe three seconds . . . Ronnie who was currently up to God knew what.

'Let's take it steady,' she said, speaking with no forethought at all. 'I'll be free again next Saturday. We can go out if you like . . .'

Chapter Six

Angie hadn't been wrong about being the talk of the sixth form. By Monday everyone had classed her and Sandra up there with Liz and Suzanne. But in keeping with the laissez-faire tradition, nobody was bitchy about it. Indeed comparing notes that afternoon Sandra had confided she'd never had so many indecent proposals.

'I've even had them from guys who've never been indecent before,' she said, chuckling. 'Who'd have thought that being a lezzie could be so alluring!'

Then, seeing Angie's dubious expression, she'd moved in close and personal.

'I'm not sure I'm a lezzie,' she said, 'but I'm attracted to you. I can't help myself. You're just so frigging sexy it's untrue.'

Angie didn't believe that for one second but did take it as heartfelt. And she did begin to wonder about herself. Large, broad-shouldered, a skinhead unable to smile without scaring folk . . . yet she'd pulled two of the most glamorous women on the planet.

And both still wanted more!

As did she, of course!!

*****

The next few weeks were slightly awkward. In other words, like the rest of the entire school, Ronnie soon heard about Angie and Sandra. Not that she was unpleasant about it. She actually commended Angie on her taste and congratulated her on her success.

'You have something about you that attracts women,' she said. 'Even straight women always look at you at least twice. Trust me, Angie Baby; your life at uni is going to be a very full one.'

Angie was still uneasy about receiving compliments. She was uneasy about the dates she'd had with Sandra on Saturday nights, as well. Sandra didn't know about Ronnie. She took it for granted Angie's "mistress" was older, possibly married but hadn't a clue who she was. And, although she often asked for details, she never pressed.

She did, however, regularly press for sex. Their Saturday nights always ended with kisses and fingers but never anything more. "I want to shag with you" became her standard parting phrase.

Then it was Easter.

*****

Angie's parents had had a timeshare for quite a while. They had the same four weeks every year: two in spring, two in autumn. Up until 1996 they'd always taken Angie with them when they vacated. Last autumn, taking into account the pressure of impending A-levels, they'd left her home alone. Being at the time sexually innocent, Angie had failed to take advantage of the freedom.

But this time . . .

Easter came early in 1997, much to Mum and Dad's disgruntlement. Normally they'd been and gone before the kids were on holiday. This year they were getting the full load of squealing brats and Angie had never had any intention of sharing it with them.

Liberated in every sense of the word, she had better things in mind than sun, sand and sangria.

But sadly Ronnie had other plans. To her a break of over a fortnight was opportunity to paint and paint and paint.

And it was the opportunity to fuck a few old girlfriends, naturally.

'I can fill a dozen or more canvasses,' she told Angie. 'I've had everything arranged for ages.'

And she quite evidently had. Her plans were to spent the first week in the Lake District, staying with Alice in Ambleside. Then to cross-country to spend the four days over Easter with Roberta in Robin Hood's Bay. And then (as if proving she didn't only have alliterative venues and lovers) she was going to backtrack to the Dales for a week with Clare in Kettlewell.

Angie was disheartened to learn Ronnie's plans but somehow held her tongue.

It's her hippy past, she reminded herself. It's the way she is.

*****

Like most British holidaymakers, Angie's parents flew to Lanzarote on a Thursday, the day before she broke up at school and a whole week before Easter itself. Ronnie's plan was to drive up to the Lakes on the Saturday. Without having to answer to her mum that left Angie free to stay over for two nights and she greatly enjoyed the experience.

Well, she didn't enjoy having to sneak out of Ronnie's early on Friday, before other pupils or teachers might be perchance passing by. Otherwise it was excellent fun.

Saturday morning (with Ronnie back in Miss Pearce mode) Angie was woken by a shower of kisses followed by an assault by dildo and vibrator. Then, feeling as horny as she'd ever been, she decided she wanted to fuck Veronica more than anything else on earth.

Veronica didn't seem to mind. She obligingly rolled onto her back and parted her legs.

'Oh yes,' she sighed as Angie kissed first her gemstone, then her tattoo.

And that butterfly was so lifelike! Angie had the irrational feeling that if she kissed it often enough it'd flap its wings for her. A thousand attempts and it hadn't done yet, but naturally that didn't keep a girl from trying.

Veronica's clit was tiny but noticeably erect. She sighed some more when Angie licked, nuzzled and nibbled at it.

'Oh yes,' she repeated before saying, in an amazingly normal voice: 'I wish you could come with me. On my travels, I mean.'

Angie put her tongue on hold and glanced up, her eyes passing over Veronica's lovely body and tits. Veronica's head was resting on a pillow so it was easy to meet her hazel-brown eyes behind the glasses she hardly ever took off.

'I will if you will,' Angie said, aware of her heart doing strange things in her chest.

'It's Alice,' Veronica said. 'She doesn't do threes.'

Angie's heart suddenly looped the loop in the opposite direction. 'Threes,' she echoed.

'Threes,' Veronica agreed. 'Roberta does and Clare lives for them. But Alice is dead-set against.'

'Are you talking about three-in-a-bed sex?'

'Of course I am. And don't tell me you've never considered the possibility. I can read you like a book.'

Angie was silent a moment. She had fantasized about being in bed with Suzanne and Liz, but only in a vague sort of a way. And there was a world of difference between fantasy and reality, wasn't there?

'Maybe you could skip the Lakes and join me in Robin Hood's Bay,' Veronica went on. 'The trains on Good Friday might be a bit iffy, though. I might have to pick you up in York or Harrogate.'

Angie moved back up Veronica's body, only stopping when their tits were together and her nose was about an inch from her lover's.

'Are you suggesting I have sex with women I've never even met before?'

'It's a kick, isn't it?' Veronica laughed. 'I can vouch for their integrity. And I know having two pussies to fuck will get you off. I know what you're like, remember?'

'I'm sorry Ver . . . Ronnie. I'm not sure I could go through with it.'

'Don't dismiss the idea out of hand. Think about it. I'll ring you on Maundy Thursday. Set something up if you've changed your mind.' Veronica laughed. 'What am I thinking of. By then you'll be fucking Sandra night and day, won't you? What, with the house to yourself and all.'

Angie frowned. 'Sandra doesn't know I've got the house to myself. And her mum's very respectable. We'd never get away with days, never mind nights.'

'Tell her.' Veronica wrapped her legs tight around Angie, bringing their groins significantly in contact and brushing noses. 'Tell her,' she repeated. 'Tell her then try getting her out of your bed.'

'Don't be silly.'

'Tell her, Angie. And stop arguing. Don't you know a girl who needs fucking when you see one?'

'I don't know if Sandra really wants it,' Angie fibbed.

'I'm not talking about Sandra,' Veronica prompted. 'I'm talking about me.'

*****

Angie kissed Ronnie goodbye and left her packing travel bags into her Ghia. It was half past ten and, although school holidays had begun, the ladies football team was still in business and playing a game at home.

And Sandra was the star centre forward.

By now well-versed in being devious, Angie took a circuitous route past the Roebuck, doubling back to school and making her way to the playing fields. To her surprise there was a crowd of maybe fifty watching the girls and only half as many watching the "men". There again, the girls looked fetching in their sky-blue tops and most of their crowd were male. She'd have chosen to watch the girls without a second's hesitation.

'Hey,' said Suzanne in greeting. 'What brings you here?' Then, laughingly: 'It's not me, is it?'

'Of course it is.' Angie tried her best for a friendly smile. 'I heard the only time you and Liz are apart is when she's playing football.'

Suzanne surprised Angie by pecking her on the mouth and grabbing her hand.

'Let's make Liz jealous,' she said. 'She knows I want a go at your tits and watches me like a hawk if you're on the scene. Being out there, pretending to be professional . . . It'll do her head in to see us.'

Angie recalled her threesome fantasies and wondered if they had a realistic chance.

'Is that Liz right back there?' she asked.

'Yes, she's right back at left back. And look at the face on her!'

At that moment the home team's winger beat her marker and sent in a high cross. Sandra was in the middle of the goal area, running towards the goalkeeper. The goalie looked odds-on to catch the ball but, leaping like a commentator's salmon, Sandra got there first.

Fifty voices roared at once.

'WHAT A GOAL!!'

The sight took Angie's breath away. Sandra's athleticism was simply awesome. Her forehead hit the ball and it literally crashed into the net.

'Two nil and only two minutes to go,' Suzanne said, hugging Angie and jumping up and down on the spot. 'Is your girlfriend good or what?'

Before Angie could reply Sandra had the ball again, but this time due to disastrous defending rather than skill on her part. Given a straight run on the hapless goalkeeper she closed in, dropped her right shoulder then dinked left and rolled the ball into an empty net.

'A hat trick,' Suzanne yelled. 'I told you she's good!'

At the final whistle the sky-blues formed a line and, assisted by the spectators, clapped Sandra off the pitch.

'Don't think you're keeping the match ball,' the coach shouted, 'there are more games in it yet.'

Sandra came straight up to Angie who hastily let go of Suzanne's hand.

'We're winding Liz up,' she explained.

'It worked,' said Liz, passing them and stomping off toward the dressing rooms.

'I'd better go kiss and make up,' said Suzanne. 'See you about, Ange. Great stuff, Sand.'

After acknowledging countless pats on the back Sandra kissed Angie. She smelt of mud, sweat and grass and was still the most beautiful girl on the planet.

'I didn't expect to see you here,' she said. 'Don't say you're backing out of tonight.'

'As if I would,' Angie paused, gathering herself. 'I've got news.'

'Go on.'

'I have the house to myself tonight. We can go out as planned. Or . . . or we can stay in.'

Sandra's eyes lit up. 'Are you inviting me to a sleepover, duck?'

'I suppose I am; a strictly two-girl sleepover. If you can swing it with your mum, that is.'

'Consider it swung. What's the earliest I can arrive?'

'I was thinking about us having lunch in the Roebuck. So you can arrive at any time after that.'

'Same time as you, you mean?'

Yes, I do.'

'Angie Baby, do I like your style!'

Chapter Seven

Lunch in the Roebuck didn't last long. When Sandra wasn't urging Angie to drink her drink she was urging her to eat her steak sandwich.

'I'm so excited,' she kept saying. 'I'm so, so excited.'

The bus ride from town to Angie's village could have been embarrassing if Angie hadn't been excited herself.

Regardless of their fellow passengers (most of them fellow villagers who knew who she was), Sandra insisted on touching her . . . kissing her.

Bugger it, Angie concluded. I'm a too-big skinhead girl with an oversexed black girlfriend. It wasn't as if we weren't ever going to get noticed!

And Mum and Dad won't be back for a fortnight. I can worry about all the rumours then . . .

In no time at all they were in Angie's parents' bedroom, both of them quaking like aspens.

'I'm so excited,' Sandra said predictably.

Angie did her best to assume control. Sandra had already told her that she'd never had sex in a bed before so it was her duty to make it memorable.

No, it was her duty to be "teacher" for a change.

Hard work, but someone had to do it!

'Take off your jeans,' she said, using a tone Miss Pearce would have been proud of.

Sandra obediently took off her jeans. Her knickers were stark, bright white. The contrast between her skin and the fabric could not have been more startling.

'Omigod,' said Angie, 'I think I just died and went to Heaven.'

'I'm so excited,' Sandra said yet again. 'Aren't you going to strip off too?'

By that stage in her sexual development Angie wasn't afraid to be seen naked. But she had amassed a certain amount of playfulness.

'Let's see your tits,' she replied. 'I've felt them often enough, but I've never seen them.'

'Haven't you had a peek in the dressing rooms? Or are you always too busy letting everyone peek at yours?'

'This is different,' said Angie. 'This is as different as it gets.'

Grinning at her, Sandra took off her top and then, tantalizingly slowly, her push-up bra.

Not that she needed a push-up. Her pert medium-sized tits defied gravity. In fact they were a work of art.

'Heaven,' Angie repeated, 'and Heaven really is populated by angels.'

'I'm so excited,' Sandra said for the umpteenth time. 'But I don't know what to do.'

Filled with power, Angie was unwavering. 'You just take off your knickers and lie on your tummy,' she commanded. 'You're the hat trick heroine. I'm going to massage all your tense muscles.'

'I'm not sure if I'm tense,' said Sandra, complying anyway. 'Well, not in a strained sort of a way.'

Sandra's body was truly incredible. Angie had of course seen it in dressing rooms often enough, but there in the privacy of a bedroom . . .

There in glorious daylight . . .

Well it really was as different as it got.

Admiring every last curve, Angie ran the tip of her tongue over and around all the planes of Sandra's shoulder-blades.

Sandra moaned appreciatively.

Then Angie pushed up Sandra's long black hair and nuzzled the back of her neck.

Sandra squealed.

Moving to the left, Angie kissed Sandra's earlobe; tongued it; nibbled it; sucked on it.

Sandra squealed some more.

Keeping a lid on her desires, Angie ran her tongue down Sandra's spine.

Sandra yelped, wriggled and writhed.

Then Angie arrived at Sandra's ass and kissing, licking and nibbling didn't seem to be enough. Using her hands with great abandon she gripped and squeezed mercilessly.

Sandra wriggled, writhed, grunted and very obviously came.

Fascinated by the strong, muscular bum before her, Angie lightly ran the very tip of her tongue along the cleft of Sandra's backside.

Sandra yelped, squealed and very obviously came again.

Still merciless, Angie licked the backs of Sandra's legs, starting at her buttocks and going down to the soles of her feet, simultaneously using her hands to stroke her here, there and everywhere. Knowing how good it felt to be caressed, wanting to share and share and share.

Recalling the slow strip, wanting to please and tantalize her lover.

'Turn over,' she finally ordered.

Sandra rolled onto her back. 'I'm so . . .' she began.

'I know you are,' Angie replied before sucking her toes, individually at first then five at a time . . . and licking the fronts of her legs. And, with great cruelty, circumventing Sandra's pussy and attacking her torso . . . deliberately and very callously ignoring her juice-smeared inner thighs.

Worshipping those upturned tits. Sandra was bigger that medium and firmer than firm. And although her areolae were quite small her nipples were huge. So were Angie's, come to that. She'd never been so turned on. Chewing away at Sandra's boobies was a rewarding as heck.

Shifting position, breast to breast once more, Angie stared down into Sandra's incredible eyes. And when she made to kiss Sandra blinked them shut. That was exactly what Angie wanted. She kissed her closed eyelids instead. Then she traced her tongue over Sandra's arched brows.

And then she attacked Sandra's earlobe again, albeit from an alternate direction.

Meanwhile her hand slid downwards, over round tits and flat tummy, easing its way through the short landing strip, determined to soon run her nose along the same route.

'Shag me, shag me, shag me,' Sandra implored. 'Come you tease, shag me for shag's sake!'

Grinning inwardly, Angie decided it might possibly be time to oblige.

*****

It took perhaps twenty goes at tribbing to conclude with a mutual orgasm. Neither of them minded; it was simply a case of practice making perfect.

Well, Angie did most of the practicing and Sandra made it perfect.

What a climax! Mountains springing up out of the sea couldn't have had so dramatic an impact!!

Energy temporarily spent, Angie admired the contrasts of their skin. Sandra's genuinely was close to being Guinness-coloured while her own was winter pale. She loved everything about them together; sight, sound, smell, feel and taste. Oh yes, fumbling upright in panties in a dark street was great but being free to fuck here on a double bed was . . .

Was . . .

'Men are useless,' Sandra announced, recovering the ability to speak first. 'That thing you do . . . with your bottom bouncing up and down . . . To die for or what! Who needs a hard cock when you can do it like that?'

Angie had her hands buried in Sandra's damp hair. Their pussies and tits were pressing together as cosy as cosy could be. The scent of all-female sex was stronger than ever.

'I don't need a cock,' she said. 'But it's getting late. You haven't called your mum yet.'

'It's not six yet. I'll call her in a while.' Sandra grinned at her appealingly. 'When do your parents get home? Can we have a Sunday morning here in this bed?'

'They're away for a fortnight,' Angie confessed.

Sandra gave her a look. 'Thanks for telling me. What about the mistress?'

'She's away for a fortnight as well.'

Sandra pushed Angie onto her back and climbed aboard. It was her first aggressive sex move and it was a good one at that: strong, powerful and completely irresistible.

'Are you telling me this house is yours for two weeks and your lover's gone AWOL?' she asked.

'I suppose so, more or less.'

Sandra's whoop would have woken the neighbourhood if it hadn't only been late afternoon; as it was she probably only frightened a few dozing cats and dogs.

'You should have said,' she scolded, 'but late's better than never. So here's the plan. You've been so cruelly abandoned and you're afraid of the dark. I simply have to stay with you, to keep your demons away.'

'What, for tonight?'

'Do I look like a cheapskate?' Sandra's laugh was bordering on hysterical. 'I'm here for the long haul, duck. You ain't getting rid of me now.'

Angie remembered Ronnie's prediction and shrugged.

'So what's the plan?'

'I go home and sell Mum the cover story. She'll buy it, no worries. Then maybe we go out tonight after all. And then we come back here and spend two weeks in bed. Simples, no?'

Angie felt Sandra's hands on her tits, felt her own body starting to move tidally under her, responding to her.