D'Orr's Ch. 2

"You really do have perfect breasts," Liz's partner whispered to her. Liz's heart skipped a beat. Did she recognize the voice?! She knew she didn't recognize the person, but the voice? She racked her brain, not wanting to speak, trying to figure out who it was. Her heart was thumping. Hoarsely she whispered back, "Thank you."

The guests started arriving, entering at the end of the breezeway and, slowly making their way toward the house, taking considerable time to admire the beautiful, masked women in their white, half-tunics, on display. Liz and her partner remained perfectly still, and Liz quickly got used to the idea that another woman was, in effect, tweaking her nipple, although no motion could be detected from more than a few feet away. Liz's nipples, both of them, remained hard throughout the beginning of the evening.

Once it seemed that everyone had arrived, and they were all in the house enjoying themselves, the designer came back into the breezeway and repositioned everyone. The twins, Anika and Erika, had been simply standing, holding hands. Now the designer had them embrace, with each pair of hands obviously holding the other's bottom, but hidden by the white cloth of the wraps. By the time he got to Liz and her partner, he placed them in a '69' position on the lounge, with Liz on top. He made sure her partner's wrap was bunched up around its waistband, and parted her legs a little wider. Liz's heart started beating faster, for she found herself for the first time she could really remember, looking directly at the mound of another woman's pussy, only inches away, and concealed only by the thin white material of her thong. As Liz became more sensitive to the position she was in, she began to feel the warm, moist air exhaled by her partner against her inner thighs.

The party made a trip, or two or three, back through the breezeway to admire the "statues," and there were plenty of comments made by both the women and the men as to the virtues of both the models and the poses they were in. Liz didn't dare lift her head to look at any of these people, but instead, found herself staring at what was directly in front of her eyes. Slowly, without Liz even realizing it, the clean, bright white of her partner's thong had turned to a washed-out gray, and, for just a second, Liz wondered what had caused that, when a smell wafted up to her nose. It was a familiar musky scent, one she had noticed on her own fingers countless times, the scent of a woman aroused, of a woman in search of physical pleasure. Liz was transfixed, not so much with lust at this point, as with curiosity, noting everything in a clinical manner, as if she were in a medical school class. This was something new to her, and she pretended, at least to herself, that she could remain detached from what was unfolding before her eyes.

The party continued carrying on in the main part of the house. The band was playing and almost no one had walked through the breezeway for some time. Then the designer came through. "Last pose, ladies! I hope you'll enjoy it!" He makes his way down the line, rearranging everyone in even significantly more suggestive poses than before. As he approaches Liz's lounge, she sees he's carrying something with him. He gives her a strap-on with an impossibly large black dildo on the front. Never having owned even a vibrator, Liz was a little taken aback. Her partner smiles but says nothing. Liz could see the glaze in her partner's eyes, even through the masks they have on. Liz fumbles with the straps as she puts it on, her hands shaking a little bit. As she gets it adjusted, she discovers that on the underside is something molded just so, to give her a little pleasure as well. She adjusts it, so it settles against her comfortably.

The designer has her partner get on all fours, and he positions Liz behind her. Again, he bunches up the wrap of her partner, but this time he exposes her backside, with only the thong dividing the darkly tanned mounds of her buttocks. Liz knelt behind her, the tip of the strap-on pointed at the now grayish-white material covering her partner's pussy. He stands back, folds his arms and comments, "If I wasn't so frigging gay, that would drive me crazy." Liz's partner turns her head around and smiles at Liz.

He moves down the line, and for the first time Liz really notices Charlotte at the end of the line. The contrast between Charlotte and her black partner is captivating. The designer intertwines their limbs, while they are standing, giving a striking effect. Liz admires what she can see of Charlottes' body, but the black woman Charlotte is paired with captivates her.

Liz and her partner stay in that position for ten minutes, then 20, and finally a small crowd from the party has gathered in front of them, admiring the beauty of the two women and the sensuality – no, raw sexuality – of the pose they're in. Liz's breasts are standing up nicely, her nipples hard in the slightly cool air of the walkway, her hips accentuated by the low-slung belt of the strap-on. Moving just her eyes, she glances down at her partner, and notices that, somehow, without Liz having noticed, her partner has somehow slid her thong to one side. The elastic in the material pushes back, accentuating her partner's clean-shaven pussy, giving it a pouty look.

Her partner, remembering she is there only to pose, but not able to resist any longer, ever so subtly shifts her hips backwards. Liz feels this and braces herself so she doesn't move. Liz glances down. The head of the strap-on was pressing against her partner, but had not yet entered her. Liz's hands had been placed on her partners hips, and slowly, she hoped imperceptibly, she inched forward, and felt the head pop into her partner. Her partner breathed a very heavy sigh, and pulled forward just a bit, then back to get it settled. Moving only her eyes, Liz looked down and saw that the bulbous head of the dildo had disappeared. In its place were her partner's dark red outer pussy lips, and the shiny bright pink of her inner lips forming a tight ring around the black dildo. The harsh white light from the halogen track lighting reflected sharply in the glistening wetness that was left on the dildo. The sight in front of her, and the slight pressure on her mons from the apparatus finally took effect on Liz. After a couple hours of being naked, admired, watched and watching, she finally abandoned the clinical poise she'd tried to adopt, and started feeling the familiar heat beginning to dissipate from her pussy.

Liz noticed out of the corner of her eye that there were two women standing watching her and her partner. With her hand on her partner's hip, Liz gave a slight nudge with her middle finger. Her partner took the cue and slid back further onto the dildo. Liz saw one of the women watching them absent-mindedly rub her own pussy. Looking down, Liz saw that there was still about 2/3 of the dildo still exposed. She was fascinated by the view of her partner's pussy being split open, by the lights reflected on the black, plastic cock mounted on her front, by her partner's slightly brown puckered bud. Even though it had been ten years since she'd been with a woman, and Liz never really thought that counted, right now it was something she desired more than anything. Another draft coming through the room brought the sweet, musky scent of an aroused woman to her nose.

The two women watching took a step closer. Liz signaled again with her middle finger and her partner slid back some more. But this time, Liz met her thrust, sending the entire remaining length inside her partner, who immediately gasped. So did one of the women watching. Liz still held perfectly still, her hips snug against the round ass of her partner, who wasn't moving either. But Liz could tell she was working the dildo with her own muscles - squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing, faster and faster! Liz could feel the slight pull and push through the strap-on, but no still there was no sign of any movement. Squeeze! Release! Squeeze! Release! Liz knew her partner had to cum soon. She braced herself to take her partner's weight. Squeeze! Release! Squeeze! Release! And then…nothing. Not a sound was uttered, not a sigh, not a breath too loud. Her partner's head just dropped, and she sagged back into Liz.

Liz was startled by the sound of running feet and looked up to see the two women running for the party room, or, more likely, someplace beyond the party room. Liz was ready to leave and she looked around, swiveling her head freely for the first time in hours. She pulled back and looked down as the strap-on slid out of her partner. The lights were almost reflected perfectly in the glistening wetness covering the dildo. There was a dark spot on the covering of the lounge. The other girls were starting to move around as well.

Liz's partner weakly lifted her head, and made to remove her mask. With a shake of her head, Liz motioned her to keep it on and stepped toward her. Her partner looked up at Liz as they stepped closer, and then they kissed. A long, slow, after-sex kiss, each tongue lazily exploring the other. They pulled apart and Liz's partner opened her mouth to speak, but Liz put her finger to her lips.

Even though she hadn't really done anything, Liz was exhausted. She fell into one of the limos and almost immediately fell asleep, not waking till the car stopped in front of D'orrs. She almost rolled out of the back and, still half asleep, walked up the block to her apartment. It was almost 4am Sunday morning. She slept till sometime after noon.

When she awoke, she still felt in a daze. Whatever had happened last night had drained her, and strangely, left her in anticipation, like a little kid who went to sleep December 23rd convinced it was Christmas Eve, and waking to find out there was a whole other day to wait. But, wait for what? That was what Liz couldn't really put her finger on. She was still concerned about the voice. She knew she knew the voice but just couldn't place it. Did she want to see that girl again? She was quite sure that wasn't the case.

But, as the day wore on, it eventually started to come to her. She wanted to try once, just once, being with another woman. It was never a thought that disgusted her; she'd just been concentrating on men. With what she'd seen the other night, there could be a whole other dimension to this sex thing than just men. How would you go about picking up a woman? In this day and age, it probably wasn't as difficult as it had been, and this city was probably one of the easier places, but how would you even get started? Then she thought, "Hell, I've got resources at the office! Well, not the law office, the other office!"

It was after dinnertime, but Liz hadn't really been hungry anyway. She quickly dressed and walked over to D'orrs. Using her key to let herself in, she found the usual Sunday night crowd of Michael tending the bar. He was so used to seeing her there on Sundays he usually didn't order anything to eat till he saw her come in.

"Hello there! Long night last night?" Michael asked.

"Completely drained me, and I don't even know why," Liz covered up. "I didn't even have anything to drink. I could never do that for a living, being a model I mean."

"I haven't ordered anything to eat yet. Would you like to join me, as usual?"

"Not tonight. I'm really just not hungry. Can I have a cranberry juice though?"

"Coming right up. Something on your mind?"

"Not really. Is Charlotte around?"

"I think she's in her quarters, but I don't think she's that interested in being disturbed. It is her day off you know."

"I know, I just had one quick thing I wanted to ask her."

"I'll give her a quick buzz. If she answers, fine. If not, will you stay and have something to eat with me?"

"I still might not eat…."

"I've never seen you without an appetite," Michael teased.

"I'll at least keep you company – that's my best offer."

Michael buzzed, and to his surprise, Charlotte answered almost immediately. He explained that Liz was downstairs and had a question for her. "I think it's personal, she's acting a little weird," Michael confided quietly to her.

Charlotte came down the stairs, dressed in what looked like only a robe and looking a little rumpled, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes tired but alight. Liz was so used to seeing her look perfect that this was totally out of character for her. Charlotte could see the surprise on Liz's face.

"Hi, Liz. Did you get enough rest after last night? I know you slept the whole way back."

"I got enough rest for today. Listen, can we talk in private?" Michael heard this and took it as his cue to call in his dinner order from the back room. Without a word he took the take-out menu and walked to the back.

"Charlotte, I think I told you I'd only been with one other girl in my life, and that I was pretty drunk when that happened."

"I hope last night wasn't too much for you!"

"NO! No it wasn't. Actually, in fact, I think it's given me an itch. An itch I think I'd like to scratch, but I just didn't know how to reach it. Then I thought, I could maybe, well, you know, maybe take on one of the other clients, to, uh, see about scratching that itch."

"Liz, darling. I understand." Charlotte paused. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but this is a business. We don't send rookies into the game here, if you know what I mean."

Liz looked at the floor, a little upset, kind of angry, but mostly hurt. "'Rookie' she called me?" she thought to herself. "Rookie???"

"However," Charlotte continued, "usually where there's a will, there's a way. And it's not like the major leagues. There are some things about women that you probably know, but sometimes it takes a little practice. Are you saying you just wanted to practice, to see if it's something you'd like to do on a, shall we say, professional level?"

Liz looked directly at Charlotte. "Yes, I do think this is something I'd at least like to try."

Equally direct, Charlotte replied, "Well, then, why don't you come upstairs with me? I have some things I can show you to help you get started."

Liz tried to maintain her composure. But it was difficult, oh so difficult. She was speechless, stammering, and stranded – all feelings Liz had little experience with came flooding forth. She got along so well with Charlotte because she was so direct, but this was totally unexpected. While she knew wanted to try this, she was also not prepared for this to happen so soon. She had always thought Charlotte a beautiful woman, Liz had never thought of Charlotte in this manner. But working for her, and their friendship, she didn't want to jeopardize any of it. As she was standing there, doing an uncharacteristic imitation of a guppy, Michael came back into the room.

"Michael," Charlotte began, "Liz won't be eating with you tonight. I'm sorry. But would you mind checking in on us before you turn in for the night, just in case there's anything we need?"

Michael smiled to himself. He knew what could be in store for him later. "Of course. Liz, I'm sorry you won't be joining me, but maybe we can catch up on things later."

For the first time in her life that she could remember, Liz was feeling an out of body experience, that she suddenly had lost all control, that others were taking over her physical being and leading her to do something, something that might have only been a fleeting whim, but now - RIGHT NOW - was beginning to become reality. She felt lightheaded as Charlotte took her hand and led her up the stairs. Her mouth went from being dry as toast to completely salivating. Her heartbeat went from mildly elevated to pounding in her chest. And Liz had no control.

Charlotte lightly rapped on the door to her apartment before entering. Liz was still too dazed for this to register. As they entered, Charlotte called out "Jennifer, we have a guest for the evening. This is Liz."

There were several candles burning in the room and no lights were on, and it took a moment for Liz's eyes to adjust. She took a step forward, and out of the darkness came the black woman she had seen Charlotte with at the party the other night. She was completely naked, her milk chocolate skin picking up the flickering light of the candles. Although Charlotte had seen her nearly naked before, it was only now that she had a close enough view to appreciate the athletic build of this black Amazon slowly walking toward her, her uplifted breasts jutting out, tipped with darker brown areolas and hardened, smallish nipples, her hips sashaying so sensuously that Liz felt her own pussy gush. Jennifer smiled as she approached Liz, taking her hand and, saying nothing, bringing it to her lips to kiss it. Jennifer broke the longish kiss and said quietly, "I've heard you were beautiful."

Unable to speak, Liz found herself staring at Jennifer, looking her up and down, admiring the swell of her hips, the shapely, muscle-toned thighs, her high waist. Liz continued to stand there, still feeling like she was watching this whole thing from above. She heard a muffled "flumph" behind her, but this didn't immediately register in her spinning mind. Through her thin shirt, Liz felt something, two somethings actually, begin to press against her shoulder blades. She flinched a little when realized it was Charlotte's breasts. Without a word, Charlotte stroked up and down both sides of Liz, from her shoulders downward, following the curves of a woman, the indentation of her waist, the widening of her hips, the taper of her upper thighs. Jennifer knelt in front of her, as Charlotte's hands reached around and cupped Liz's breasts, her thumbs and forefingers lightly toying with Liz's nipples through her shirt, rolling them around and around, bringing them to attention and sending even more blood rushing to her clit. Liz tipped her head back, and Charlotte, knowing exactly what she was looking for, began to lightly bite the stretched tendon in her neck. Liz was vaguely aware of her pants being wriggled over her hips, past her knees and left to puddle around her feet. She felt fingers stretching the elastic of her panties, and those too, ended up in the pile now covering her feet.

For the first time in her life, Liz became submissive. She submitted to the unbuttoning of her shirt and the unclasping of her bra. She submitted to one pair of hands that were working their way inside her bra and to the other pair of hands that were spreading her legs, even as she stood there. She submitted to the lips and tongues that began caressing her skin, to the pressure of Charlotte's breasts at her back. This purely physical encounter was taken to a completely different level of eroticism for Liz by the slender, female fingers that were working their way all over her, exploring every curve, every bump, every fold of skin. A female's long, manicured fingernail raked along the inside of her thigh, and Liz involuntarily thrust her hips forward, only to be met by a woman's pointed tongue at the height of her thrust. She submitted to being led to the bedroom and laid out on the bed. And, finally, Liz submitted when Charlotte straddled her, and lowered her hips toward Liz's head.

As Liz became more comfortable with this new situation, she became less passive and more aggressive. Jennifer, beautiful, buttery, chocolate brown Jennifer was laying on the bed. Liz took a couple pillows and had her lift her hips so Jennifer's pussy was pointed up in the air. Liz crawled between her legs on all fours, and leaning on her elbows began to explore Jennifer with her tongue. Jennifer smiled down at her, then closed her eyes and enjoyed Liz toying with her outer lips, the occasional involuntary thrust telling Liz that she was doing something right. Liz parted Jennifer's outer lips with her tongue, searching for little hard button she so wanted to pleasure. Still on her knees and elbows, Liz found it, and, making a perfect 'O' with her tongue, surrounded it and began sucking on it. Jennifer thrust toward Liz's face, and Liz caught her on the thrust and held her ass off the pillows while she continued working Jennifer's clit. She felt the bed move, but was so involved in what she was doing that it didn't register until she felt someone's hands on her hips, a man's hands. She turned to look, and in the low light of the candles, the only thing that registered was that they weren't Michael's hands. They were much larger, a little rougher, and they were black, blue-black, the same color as Carl, the driver, the bouncer, the protector of all the women of D'orrs. She turned further around and saw him positioning himself to enter her, she felt him nudge the entrance, felt him rubbing his cockhead up and down her slit, searching the exact place to plunge in. He found it, and Liz was pushed forward with his momentum. She strained to see him over her back. Charlotte noticed this and untangled herself from the assorted limbs on the bed and rolled over a floor-length tilt mirror from the corner of the room. She positioned it so Liz could easily see Carl entering her, and leaving her – "Don't leave me!" she thought, and then he entered her again. Liz remembered Jennifer, and with a wicked grin on her face, leaned forward on her elbows again to start anew her ministrations on Jennifer, leaving her ass high in the air as Carl, impressive, stoic Carl, continued to slowly pump into her. Liz awoke late on Monday morning, and went to the bathroom to get showered. She glanced in the mirror and saw several flakes of what looked like dried skin on her cheeks and chin. Slowly at first, and then with a rush, she recalled the night before. She remembered Charlotte, and Jennifer, and, was Carl the driver involved? Step by step it continued to come back to her. She'd been sandwiched between Carl and Jennifer, and did Michael show up? She didn't know what to think of it, but the word 'hedonistic' certainly came to mind, along with sore. It didn't bother Liz – she'd enjoyed it, all of it, and wanted to do it again. She languished in the shower, taking her time to clean herself thoroughly, but gently. She was a little tender from the night before.