Aurora - Wings of the Goddess Pt. 04

"I don't know. It's like... like... like being hit by a great big light of boltning. Made of rainbows."

Beck fell onto her back, cackling, her face contorted, eyes squeezed to slits.

"So," Watson asked, "are you feeling okay?"

Vicky shook her head. "Sure. No. Gosh. It feels quite..."

Pausing, they both looked at Beck, flat on her back having hysterics.

"What's gotten into you, Dipsy Doodle?" the old man demanded.

"Macca!" Beck cried, clutching her ribs. "Did you hear what she just said?"

Vicky looked at her, five parts stupefied. "What?"

"You said..." Beck slapped her knee, "you said... 'light of boltning'!"

"No I didn't."

"Yes..." Beck nodded, rolling around, "you did!"

"Well, off she goes." Watson sighed. "Give my regards to Jupiter Moosh."

Vicky looked at the blonde a little non-plussed, then looked at Watson with a big stoner grin. "Is she intoxicated?"

"No," Watson shook his head, "she's frikken' stoned."

"Am I?"

The old man peered deep into Vicky's bloodshot green eyes. The lights were on and there was a party inside. "In my professional opinion? Yes."

"So what happens now?"

"What do you mean, 'what happens'?"

"Now I'm stoned? What do I do?"

"Well... Umm... You just enjoy yourself."

"Okay. How?"

"Umm..." Watson looked around then snapped his fingers. "I know. You have to kiss the person sitting in front of you."

Watson's eyes flew open as Vicky leant into him and mashed her lips against his, her mouth open, tongue writhing. One hand around Watson's neck, she put the other in his lap and fondled the taut, stiff tube lying flat on his thigh. Breaking off she straightened, smacking her chops. "Gosh. That was nice."

Beck pushed herself up, still gasping for breath. "Do you guys... Do you guys want to play cards or what?"

The old man's gaze was riveted on the young beauty sitting cross-legged in front of him, her hair dishevelled, her mouth all wet from the kiss. 'Or what' sounded awesome. "So what do you want to play?" he asked, dragging his eyes away. "And it better be something simple."

"I know something we could play." Vicky said huskily.

"Fish?" Beck suggested.

"Let's stick to snap." Watson replied. His brain was sloshing around in a delicious soup of dope-laced French Champagne. Anything more complicated than recognising two similar cards was beyond him.

Vicky fell back, legs crossed, yes closed, arms over her head. Something like a miniature sun was rising in her groin and her tummy was doing cartwheels. "Holy smokes." she gasped. "This feels incredible."

"The dope?"

"Something."

The seam of Vicky's shorts was biting into her slit. Beck reached out to trace it with a fingertip then caught herself at the very last instant and pulled away. The urge to throw herself down on top of that gorgeous young woman, to jam a hand down the front of her shorts, the tidal wave of desire was almost overwhelming. Still, the night was yet young, so Beck tucked a hand in her own bikini-clad crotch instead, to both amplify the feeling and hold it all in.

Eyes still closed, Vicky suddenly said, "Can we make love?"

Watson and Beck swapped a glance. "Macca." Watson replied. "You know you're stoned, right?"

"Uh huh." Vicky nodded. "And it feels fucking fantastic."

"And now you just swore. And you also said you wanted to have sex. Is that what you meant to say?"

She nodded again. "Oh yes."

Beck and her old man exchanged shrugs. "Are you sure?" Watson asked and his voice broke. "D... don't want to sleep on it?"

"No," Vicky shook her head, "I don't want to sleep on anything. I just want to fuck."

"Umm..." Beck said, tensing to rise, "I might hook over to Bees. The poor old flesh-eating koalas might be missing me. Don't wait up, you two."

Vicky slapped a hand on Beck's lean thigh. "Becky? Will you stay?"

"Me?"

"If you want to."

"While you and Damon...?"

Vicky offered Watson her hand and he hauled her upright. "No," she shook her head, "you're right, I'm just being silly. I'm sorry, Beck, I-"

"I'd love to." Beck said, heart hammering.

Vicky looked at her, blinking. "Seriously? While your da... while we fu... while Damon and me make love?"

"I'd love to!" Beck said again, up on her knees.

"Really?" Vicky breathed, eyes like jade saucers.

"Totally." Beck nodded.

"You won't feel jealous?"

"A little envious, maybe, but jealous? No."

Vicky looked at her, blinking, trying to make sense of the little blonde's words. "As long as you're sure."

"I am." Beck nodded.

Watson took a stoned moment to study the tableau, hardly able to believe his incredible luck. In front of him sat a twenty-something beauty with a big, gorgeous mouth and pointy little tits, and the fabric of her shorts biting into the cleft of her vagina. Beside her knelt a teen pocket-goddess, in tiny bikini bottoms with a hand-span thigh-gap and a threadbare T-shirt punctuated by rock-hard nipples. He looked wide-eyed at his lap, where a raging erection was trying to muscle its way out of his shorts. "Take me now, Lord."

"Why?" Beck said and gave the old man a thump on the back, "We haven't even started. Sheesh! And you reckon Macca wasn't ready for it."

"Now come on, Moosh." Watson frowned, "Nobody likes a smarty-pants."

"I do." Vicky breathed. "In fact there's one or two I flippin' adore." She looked down. Her hands were shaking and she was suddenly running a sweat. "So how do we...?"

"Do the do?" Beck asked.

Vicky nodded. "Uh huh."

"Well, first things first." the little blonde said matter-of-factly. "Let's get you out of those unsightly clothes." Kneeling in front of her, Beck unbuttoned Vicky's shirt, then gestured the woman's arms up with a jerk of the head. "Skin the raaa-bbiiit." she sang, peeling off the shirt and tossing it aside.

Vicky sat, straight-backed in total submission, as Beck reached around and unhitched her black lace bra. Pulling it clear, the little blonde dropped down, staring hungrily at Vicky's freshly liberated breasts. For a moment she considered latching onto them for a quick hello, but on second thoughts, no. This wasn't the time for rash self-indulgence- that would come later. "Lie down, Macca." she instructed and Vicky flopped onto her back. Working quickly and methodically, Beck unzipped Vicky's shorts, then lifted her knees bringing her legs together. Vicky was wearing bikini bottoms underneath and Beck made short work of skimming them down, over her legs and off across her ankles. Eyes closed, Vicky let her knees fall to the sides, opening her legs in a display of wanton abandon. Beck looked over her shoulder at Watson, who was surreptitiously massaging the eruption in the front of his shorts. He nodded. Indeed. She was stunning.

Slipping off the bed, Beck stood behind Watson and shouldered him onto his knees, then winkled his board shorts down. He sat, and Beck completed the dismasting, committing his shorts to the growing pile of discards. Shuffling to Vicky's side she stroked her hair. "How do you want it, Macca? On the top? On the side? Missionary? Doggy?"

Vicky propped herself on her elbows, staring at the thing sticking out of the old man's lap. "I don't flippin' care." she breathed. "I just want him inside me. If that's okay."

"Well you get an 'A' for enthusiasm." the old man rumbled.

"I'd prefer an 'F', for fuck." Vicky said giddily then turned her head to look at Beck. "Becky? Are you gonna take your clothes off?"

"Would you like me to?"

Vicky replied with a resolute nod. "Oh, yes."

"Okay," Beck said, "since you asked so nicely." Up on her knees, she peeled off her T-shirt and her tiny conical tits sprang free. She was about to skim off her bikini bottoms when Vicky grabbed her hand.

"Becky? May I?"

Several times over the past few days, when her thoughts had gone astray, Vicky had found herself fantasising about the contents of Beck's skimpy bikinis. As nervous as she was, and shy, her reluctance was simply no match for raw curiosity and she licked her lips as Beck flopped onto her back. Kneeling, Vicky hooked her fingers under the bikini's side-ties, then took a deep breath. Slowly, deliberately, she winkled Beck's blue-striped bikini bottoms down, slowly revealing the blonde's hidden treasures.

Vicky had never set eyes on another female's 'down there' before, in fact she could hardly bring herself to look at her own. But Beck was so stunning, so pink, so perfect and pure, for a moment she was transfixed. She was terrified to say it, lest her meaning be misconstrued, but said it anyway, in spite of herself. "My god, Rebekah. You're beautiful."

"You can touch me if you like."

Vicky reached for Beck's pubic mound then snatched her hand away, unable to cross the line. "I was just saying, that's all." she blushed, her innards tumbling in free-fall. The very sight of the blonde's delicate pink slit had made her own pussy flood, but she couldn't bring herself to defile an innocent young girl.

Picking up on her quandary, Watson tapped Vicky's flank with the head of his cock. "I've got something you can touch."

Vicky put a hand to her mouth at the sight of the big, fat cock, while Beck sat back, a little miffed but determined to not to rush it. Vicky would crumble, she was sure, and her own little fantasy, sown in a hotel room so long ago in Canberra, would finally bear fruit.

Watson pushed her down, then positioned himself between Vicky's spread legs. On her knees beside him, Beck took hold of his hard, bouncing cock and gave it a squeeze, eyeing the target, tongue extended. With her legs at full splay, the outer lips of Vicky's lightly thatched mound had pulled apart, revealing the delicate pink of her thin inner lips. Using Watson's knob as a blunt, fleshy plough, Beck stroked the length of Vicky's wet cleft, laying her membranes bare, exposing her clit and a tiny peek of her tight, leaking hole.

The old man flexed his back, sinking several inches of his cock into Vicky's hungry embrace. Beck's knuckles barely brushed her flesh and Vicky drew a short, sharp breath. She'd just been touched. 'Down there'. By a girl. Not only that, but there was a great big cock lodged in her opening. Drunk on Champagne and, for the first time in her life thoroughly stoned, she was in heaven.

Leaving her old man to his own devices, Beck hunkered down beside Vicky to watch the show. Watson was taking his time, limbering up, pulling out all the way to the knob before forcing his way back in. Between the alcohol, the dope and the thrill of having a naked young teen at her side, Vicky felt her insides churn with something resembling an orgasm. She tapped Beck's knee. "May I touch your breasts?"

"I've got a better idea." Beck replied, leaning over Vicky as Watson stiff-armed himself out of the way. Vicky saw it coming and opened her mouth, suckering onto the firm little tit like a limpet. When Beck found Vicky's hand and pressed it firmly over her pussy, Vicky's eyes flew open and she tried to pull back. Beck held her in place, undeterred, until the sensation of a handful of teenage vagina crushed the young initiate's resistance. Watson, meantime, continued thrusting slowly in and out, working his cock deeper bit by bit, but with barely three quarters of the old man's length inside her Vicky came.

Beck used the distraction to jam Vicky's middle finger in her own sopping cunt and, head back, eyes shut, commenced furiously strumming her clit. Watson hit his straps, grunting with every stroke, hips thrusting, cock hammering the dead-end of Vicky's insides. Suddenly wrenching her finger free of Beck's slippery grip, Vicky pushed the old man away. "Stop!" she gasped, "Stop!"

Watson looked at her, sweat dripping from the end of his nose, his insides tingling with the first hint of orgasm. "Vicky? What's up?"

"No, no, stop it... This is so wrong."

Beck came to a panting halt, hand clamped over her pussy. "What is?"

"This. Us. Me. Touching you. For god's sake, I'm not a lesbian."

"Oh for fucks' sake!" Beck cursed. "Vicky! You don't have to be!"

Watson left Beck to it, using the break to cool his jets and stave off a premature finale.

"But it..." Vicky whimpered, "I..."

"How did it feel?" Beck demanded, though the answer was obvious. Vicky had never even fingered herself, let alone a svelte little teenager, and the experience was illuminating. She'd always imagined a vagina to be just a hole. A void, a cavity, not the hot, tight, wet, slippery miracle she'd just encountered. "Well Vicky?"

"I'm sorry, Beck. I didn't... I can't..."

"Answer the question, Victoria MacDonald. Did my pussy feel good? Yes or no?"

"No... yes... Please Becky, I don't know..."

"Well that's covered all bases." Beck said wryly, taking Vicky's hand and pressing a hot, sopping girl-cunt into her palm. Vicky tried to withdraw but in the end just couldn't resist. Deliberately, gently, she kneaded the sweet little thing, feeling its shape, dipping her fingers into the yielding wet folds. "Now go ahead," Beck glared, "tell me. My pussy. How does it feel?"

"Fuck!" Vicky turned away, tears filling her eyes. "What the hell's wrong with me?"

"Wrong?" Beck demanded "What do you mean, 'wrong'?"

"I mean wrong!" Vicky railed. "As in perverse! Because it feels blinky fantastic! You do. And I don't think I've laid eyes on anything so beautiful as... as..."

"As what?"

"As... as... as you!"

Beck lay a hand on Vicky's quivering breast. "And what the fuck is so wrong about that, hmm? Damon?"

Watson dragged his eyes away from the sight of his cock, almost up to the hilt in Vicky's vagina. "Say what?"

"Poor old Macca thinks she's turned into a deviate."

"Really? That's outstanding!"

"See!" Beck challenged. "And I'll tell you something else for free, Miss I'm-not-a-lesbian... I could almost cum just looking at you, you're that freaken' hot. So there, we're even."

"For reals?" Vicky sniffled.

"Totally."

"You don't mind me touching you?"

Beck looked at Watson, grinning, and poked out her tongue. He'd been adamant all along Vicky just wasn't up to it, that girl-on-girl was a bridge too far. Armed to the teeth with females' intuition, Beck, meanwhile, knew all along she was and all she needed was a little encouragement. A little disclaimer. "Look." she said, dropping onto an elbow and brushing the hair from Vicky's brow, "What happens on Aurora stays on Aurora. Would you like to stick your finger in me?"

"Oh yes!" Vicky nodded feverishly, "No! I mean no! Oh, Beck, I'm so confused."

Beck rolled her eyes. "And the academy award for best drama goes to... Listen... Vicky... before, when you were fingering me. Did it feel good or not?"

Vicky hesitated, eyes shut tight in embarrassment. She nodded.

"Then you're just not trying hard enough. It should feel awesome, Macca. It should feel fantastic!" Reaching out, she slapped the old man resoundingly on the ass. "And who said you could stop, Mister?"

Watson took up where he'd left off, driving his rock-hard prick in and out of a tight young vagina. When Vicky caught up, he hooked his arms under her legs and shuffled forwards, elevating her butt until he was hammering straight down into her. Sweeping her hair back, Beck leant over to draw Vicky's bouncing breast whole into her mouth, sucking and biting as the young woman rocked to and fro. Gasping and mewling, Vicky felt around for Beck's hot little pussy, parting her slit before curling her finger up to the knuckle into Beck's gripping hole. The old man could feel a climax building in his viscera, aided by the sight of Vicky in a state of total abandon, and made a last ditch attempt to forestall the inevitable. It was no use. Vicky was writhing and groaning, frantically fingering the little blonde girl, and not even decapitation could forestall an orgasm now.

Vicky, for her part, had enjoyed, endured, experienced, thrilled to, suffered, lavished in- the feeling changed from instant to instant- a rolling thunder of multiple orgasms, the closest she'd come in twenty years of extremist religion to a divine experience. Her whole body was taking part, shaken cell from cell and atom from atom in a blur of dissociative rapture.

And Beck. She was strumming her clit for all she was worth, working herself up to a powerful dope fuelled, finger induced, belly clenching, hip jerking climax. The old man beat her to it, but not by much, driving his spurting cock as deep as it would go into the convulsing body of the young beauty beneath him. Teeth clenched, growling, he ground his pelvis into her, jetting three massive blasts of semen, followed by several sputtering aftershocks, deep into Vicky's squirming insides. Last over the line, Beck reared erect then sat down hard, groaning and writhing, the full weight of her body in Vicky's hand.

Watson fell forward and helped himself to a deep, passionate kiss. After a short, chest-heaving interval, Beck rose to her knees and eased Vicky's finger out, while Watson pushed up, dripping sweat, to study his handiwork. Vicky's head was tossing slowly from side to side, her innards clenching and unclenching around the massive intrusion. "Oh god..." she cried, "oh god... what just happened?"

"I think the Earth just got hit by a comet." Beck huffed, lying down to stroke Watson's back. Trickling her fingers down between his butt cheeks, she traced the gooey margins of Vicky's stretched pussy lips. "Either that or we just had a mass orgasm."

Watson looked over his shoulder. "Moosh? Give it to me straight."

Beck shoved his thighs apart and dipped her head to check. "I have good news and bad news." she announced, giving his slime-covered sac a loving fondle. "The good news is you still have your legs."

"And the bad news?"

Beck raised a hand, a thick string of semen dangling from her fingertips. "Your balls just imploded."

"Dammit!" Watson grunted, slowly extracting his meat. "That was my best pair."

Beck sucked her fingers clean. "Mmm... mMM! Well at least they didn't die in vain."

Watson gave his hips a jerk and popped out of Vicky's frothing vagina, then rolled away and lay on his back, luxuriating in the post-orgasmic glow. Rising to her knees, Beck shuffled between Vicky's spread legs, then flattened a hand on the lightly thatched hillock of her pubis. "What a waste..." she tutted, gazing at the slow gulp of semen from Vicky's slowly-closing hole. "Macca? Would you mind?"

"Would I mind what?"

"If I... you know..." Beck said and smacked her lips.

Shockwaves reverberated through Vicky's body at the feel of a small, female hand so close to her sinful parts. "What? What do you mean?"

Beck rolled her eyes. Was she going to have to spell it out? "You know. If I helped myself to some of that yummy cum?"

Vicky's abdominal muscles tensed as she propped herself up on her elbows. "How?" With her finger? With a straw? With a spoon?

"You know? If I just... lick it up."

Watson rolled onto his side and propped his head on a hand, his cock still the consistency of a truncheon. "For god's sake, Becky, stop hassling the poor girl."

"I'm not hassling her!" Beck protested. "Macca? Would you mind?"

"Well I wouldn't mind but what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well what about the taste?"

"Of the old boy's cum? Not sure how to break this to you, Macca, but to tell the truth I've tried it before."

"No. I mean my 'down there'."

"Your pussy? Well that's just icing on the cake."

"Eww... seriously?"

"You've never tasted it?"

"Certainly not."

Two in the space of a couple of days, Beck thought. "Haven't you heard? Sugar and spice and all things nice? Like the old boy always says, that's not a nursery rhyme, it's a fact"

"Seriously?"

"Icing on the cake," Beck winked, "with a cherry on top."

A renegade thought flitted through Vicky's mind. If the situation were reversed and she had a chance to sample the little blonde's wares...