Impact 12½: of Alumnae

"How are you ladies doing?" she asked in a friendly tone. "Can I get you anything else before I close the bar?"

"Can we take drinks up to our rooms?" Ali asked.

"Of course, no problem."

"Great!" Ali said, looking at us. "Then three more G&Ts and the check."

"Put it on my room, please," Rebekah chimed in, having recovered herself.

"Excellent. I'll be right back."

Ali had managed to behave as if nothing had happened. And besides a thickness to her voice, Rebekah had too. As if she hadn't almost been caught with my panties clenched in her teeth. I, meanwhile, must have looked like my eyes were about to drop out of my head, because that's how I felt.

"You must think I'm a pervert..." Rebekah said, looking down into her lap where she was fingering my spit soaked panties. "I am a pervert."

The three of us sat staring at each other for a long time, Rebecca watching me nervously, Ali breathing hard, me blinking in a stunned silence. Rebekah up-ended her glass, searching for the dregs of gin among the ice. Putting it down between us, she stared into the glass, avoiding my eyes.

"It all started with you, you left a wet spot on my bed. I obsessed... sniffing and licking it. Do you remember wiping your fingers on my pillow?"

Ali turned to look at me, I felt myself go hot with shame. I had forgotten doing that, had thought I'd only fantasized about doing it.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I worshiped those smears," Rebekah admitted, her chest heaving - like the effort of telling us these things was physically exhausting. "I loved that pillow."

It was hardly a whisper, as if Rebekah was shrinking with every breath, pulling into herself; retreating. But she seemed to rally, her voice regaining some of its strength.

"And then when I was moving out, I found a pair of your panties... worshiped them, put them in my mouth-"

"If you don't do this with other people," Ali asked, "do you use your own-"

"I'm a panty thief Ali. I'm a sneak and a panty thief."

"Ladies," the server said, announcing herself, placing the check in front of Rebekah and the three G&Ts between us. "Have a lovely evening."

Ali waited until the server was out of ear shot.

"Whose panties? How do you..."

"There are certain friends I steal from. There's... I keep them for a while. Chris can't tell the difference between mine and someone else's, but I hide them from him anyway... I'm sorry, I know this is strange. God Sarah, you must think I'm a freak, please say something. Are you disgusted?"

"No, no... it's OK it's OK. I mean, yeah it's strange, but I'm not... I don't know... I'm just - it's not what I expected? It's not what I thought you were going to tell me... what was going to happen."

"She's not done."

It was Ali. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks ruddy. She picked up her drink, and looked back and forth between Rebekah and I.

"Take us to your room Rebekah."

"Ali," I protested. "I'm not gonna do anything. I can't."

"You don't have to do anything," she said standing, Rebekah following her lead. Ali put her free hand out to me. "But I think you want to hear the rest of the story. And besides, you're not in shape to go home."

She wasn't wrong. I was a little unsteady, but that's not why I took her hand. Ali was right, I wanted to know what happened. I wasn't done either. Ali's grip felt strong and surprisingly steady. Her hand was cool and a bit damp. She helped me stand and I grabbed my drink.

"OK," I whispered, taking a deep fortifying breath. "Let's go upstairs."

The elevator ride up to Rebekah's room was tense. She didn't babble or joke and tease like Claire. Ali didn't hold me by the arm or interlace our fingers. Instead the three of us just stood in silence, watching the numbers climb towards her floor.

I followed them down the hall, again struck by how different Rebekah's style was from Claire. Claire's family had money, she had been raised with her stepfather's wealth and had never really known anything else. But Claire's relationship to money seemed after the fact. What was important was beautiful things, smart things - if they happened to be expensive or cheap, it didn't matter. Rebekah was meticulously well-heeled; conformist.

All those years ago Rebekah and I had collided, so briefly but with such intensity, sending us spinning off in very different directions, but in ways, equally repressed trajectories of denial and self loathing.

'Perhaps this is Rebekah's protective camouflage,' I realized, watching her open the door to her suite.

"Please," she said, gesturing to an overstuffed chair near the windows, "sit."

I took my place, but I was the only one. At some point Rebekah and Ali must have come to an agreement, an understanding. I watched as, without asking or being told, Rebekah turned to Ali and began to undress her. Their movements were slow and careful, performative. It wasn't a striptease, but they were taking her clothes off for me.

'When had this happened?' I wondered. 'When had they decided this was what was happening?'

I could see how nervous Rebekah was, watched her fingers shaking as she worked the little buttons down the front of Ali's dress. She knelt to do the last few, so the entire front of the dress was open, then bowed to undo the straps of Ali sandals. Ali, meanwhile, seemed at ease.

She let her dress fall off her shoulders. She was braless, her breasts so small she was almost flat chested, but her nipples were big swollen cones. She had always had a big ass and powerful thick thighs. She stood over Rebekah, her ass and the muscles of her legs flexing. Looking down on Rebekah as she removed the second sandal, Ali put her thumbs in her waistband and in one smooth movement had her panties off.

"Don't get up," Ali ordered, stopping Rebekah as she had begun to shift her weight. Ali's tone wasn't commanding, more conversational, but she held her panties in her fist, close to Rebekah's face, like a threat, or a promise. "Undress."

Rebekah sucked her lips between her teeth, bit down on them, then settled back onto her haunches. She unbuttoned her blouse and untucked it from her skirt with hands that shook so much they looked like fluttering wings. Shrugging it off and letting it drop, she showed us her dark sheer bra. It was very pretty. I could imagine Claire wearing it. Watching her stretch to find the clasp, I wondered where Rebekah got it.

Then the bra was off. It was strange seeing Rebekah's breasts, having imagined them, but also knowing I must have seen them before. They were as beautiful as I'd always imagined. Were my fantasies colored by memories I had never let myself see, or was the power of reality already overwriting my fantasies?

Either way, this all seemed like the stuff of dreams.

Rebekah's breasts were much larger than Ali's, but still small. They were shallow cones, capped by big puffy nipples that looked painfully erect. They sat high on her chest, tight to her body. Her ribs stood out and her belly was flat and looked strong. She was displaying herself for us. Another unspoken cue passed between them, a slight shift in Ali's manor seemed to communicate impatience and spurred Rebekah to continue.

She lifted herself off her heels as she unfastened her skirt at the waist. It was a wrap. She let herself drop onto one hip as she spread it open, and then lifting her ass, pulled it away. Her panties were gone. Had she just dropped hers to the floor, abandoned them in the bar?

She stretched out on her side in front of Ali, legs straightening and parting, she was showing us her cunt. The insides of her thighs shone with moisture. Her lips, open and pink, were dripping. She was sopping wet, and entirely hairless.

"Have you always shaved?" I asked, my voice shaking. I felt almost as if I was intruding. This had become about the two of them, but I needed to know.

Rebekah, who had been looking up at Ali, turned to me, her pupils great black holes.

"No," she told me. "I shaved for you, and just never stopped."

"You wanted her to eat your shaved pussy?" Ali asked. Drawing Rebekah's attention back.

"Yes."

"But you didn't eat her out," Ali said, it wasn't a question. "Have you ever eaten pussy?"

"No," Rebekah whispered, she seemed ashamed to admit it. I thought about how guilty and ashamed I'd felt the morning after I'd eaten Claire out.

"But Sarah ate you out," Ali told her.

"More than once," she said, her eyes darting to me.

"Tell me what you did."

"You mean..."

"After stripping her, tell me what you did."

"I pulled her bush," Rebekah said, looking up at Ali but her eyes far away. "Not hard. She liked it."

"Show me," Ali said, stepping forward, straddling Rebekah's bent knees. Ali looked amazing, feet set wide, hips thrust forward.

Rebekah sat up on one thigh, like a pin-up girl, and leaned forward to finger Ali's curly white-blonde pubic hair. The fine little hairs looked damp and soft. They were trimmed and shaped into a little landing strip. Her lips were hairless and glistened with her excitement. She bared her teeth as Rebekah gathered the little bush into her fist and pulled.

"Like this."

"That was the first time you'd touched a woman?"

"Like this, yes."

"Have you touched a woman like this since Sarah?"

"No."

Ali seemed to appraise Rebekah, who was still holding her bush in her fist.

"Then what?" Ali prompted.

"She told me she liked me seeing her. I told her I liked to see her."

I felt my breath catch. Again it was like something from a dream, but hearing someone else tell you about your dream; third person deja vu.

"Then what?"

"I fingered her."

Ali was touching the back of Rebekah's fist with her fingers, she guided Rebekah, so she opened her hand, turning it over as Ali took a step forward so her cunt was crowding Rebekah's face. Again, something about the way she stood over Rebekah, her posture, made it simultaneously a promise and a threat. Rebekah's fingers between Ali's legs, touching her lips, began to move, to stroke, and then to push upwards and pump.

"And then I put my fingers in her mouth," Rebekah told Ali, her chin tipping upwards, her lips dangerously close to Ali's pussy. Her fingers pumped slowly.

"The same fingers?" Ali asked.

"Yes."

"You fed her her pussy."

"Yes."

"Mmmm," Ali moaned, her hips rolling upwards. "Is that something she did while masturbating?"

"No," Rebekah said doubtfully, her pumping slowing then resuming. "Not that I ever saw. But..."

"But what?"

"I had. I tasted myself for the first time fantasizing about Sarah, and while watching her."

"fuckfuckfuck," Ali muttered to herself, her knees sagging for a moment. "You're really good at this. You've never fingered anyone other than Sarah?"

"Just you," Rebekah admitted.

"That's a shame," she crooned. But then Ali seemed to remember something. "You said Sarah went fast, that she came in seconds?"

"Only the first time, after that she was slow, took longer and longer."

I remembered the way I had stripped myself in Rebekah's room, crawling onto her bed, knees spread, feeling myself open and exposed, how good it had felt to touch myself like that.

"Showing off?" Ali asked, smiling at me, her hips moving in slow circles.

"Maybe?" Rebekah said, and following Ali's gaze, told me, "I would lick my fingers over and over, imagining it was you. I still do."

I felt a thrill of fear. What had I gotten myself into? But the way Rebekah said it wasn't porny or even seductive. She was confessing. And besides, it was like I was fastened to the chair. The only movement I made was parting my knees. I watched them spread open, like watching someone else's body.

"Did she like it?" Ali asked. "You feeding her her pussy?"

"Very much." Rebekah whispered, her eyes darting looks at me.

"Show me."

Rebekah was looking up at Ali, and again some invisible cue passed between them and Rebekah slowly withdrew her fingers, but she made no effort to stand, or to reach for Ali's mouth, instead she brought her fingers to her own lips, and with Ali and I looking on she licked and sucked them clean.

"And then?" Ali asked, as Rebekah returned to fingering her, the pumping slightly faster now.

"I was straddling her, touching myself, and she moved under me until I was over her mouth." Rebekah said, scooping her fingers out and sucking Ali's wet, before continuing with her task and her story. "I remember fingering myself like that," she explained, again cleaning her fingers, sucking and licking them for Ali's benefit. "I was so wet," she whispered, a trail of saliva between her lips and Ali's cunt, her fingers making wet squishing sounds as they pumped faster. "There was cum running down my thighs; dripping onto her face, onto her lips and tongue."

Rebekah's fingers were in and out of Ali, making quick trips to her mouth so Ali could see her eating her cum.

"Oh fuck!" Ali gasped, her hips bucking. She opened her stance and bowed her back forward, as Rebekah pushed her fingers deeper, pumping them faster.

"Ah fuck Rebekah! ...fffffk!"

Ali had grabbed onto Rebekah's shoulder with her free hand. The fist holding her panties pressed against Rebekah's face.

"Open your mouth!"

Rebekah did as she was told and moaned as Ali pushed her panties into her mouth. Her fingers pumped hard, almost like she was punching Ali.

"Ah!"

"AH!"

"AH!"

It's only as Ali forced Rebekah to drop backwards onto her elbows and straddled her chest that I even realized I had been touching myself. My dress was pulled up and I was raising my ass off the chair, clenching my cheeks as hard as I could. I came as Ali pulled her panties from Rebekah's mouth. She slowly drop to her knees, forcing Rebekah the rest of the way down on her back

Ali, her body still spasming from her orgasm, crawled forward over Rebekah, pressing her flat on her back, arms outstretched. They came to rest with Ali's cunt just over Rebekah's mouth, her shins pinning her arms. For a long time the two of them held themselves like that, unmoving. Ali was panting, her fingers pushing into Rebekah's hair, her panties held next to Rebekah's face. Ali was trying to catch her breath.

"When did you realize you were going to eat me out?"

"I think I knew that's what you wanted when you asked if I just watched. The way you looked at me."

"When did you realize you were going to do it?"

"When you told Sarah I wasn't done..."

"Do it," Ali told her, and Rebekah strained her neck upwards, lifting her head until her mouth could almost reach and then put out her tongue, bridging the distance.

"Not just a panty sneak anymore! Look at you eating my pussy," Ali congratulated, reaching her hand under Rebekah's head and pulling her mouth against her. "Oh fuuuck... And baby you're fucking good. Ohhhh shit Rebekah! If I had known how much I was going to like having a bitch eating my pussy I would have tried this years ago."

Ali was looking at me, laughing as she spread her knees, still holding Rebekah's mouth to her cunt but lowering them both, until Rebekah's head was on the floor and Ali was bearing down on her. My legs were still open. I was touching myself again.

"Were you rough?" Ali asked Rebekah, who moaned her agreement.

"MmmNnmm!"

"I like that," Ali told her and began to toll her hips. Rebekah's hands clutched Ali's ass as the big muscles clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed.

"Un! I like that a lot!"

"OH Fuck!"

"AHH REBEKAH! AHAH!"

Ali's voice is high and pleasing, when she speaks you can hear that she's a singer. As she got more and more excited the sounds she was making went higher and higher. Little notes - more like birdsong than cries.

I asked the concierge to call me a cab and checked my phone. There were texts and a movie from Claire.

Are you still out?

Is my Sarah having adventures or has she fallen asleep?

I hope she is out having fun

I think maybe you are asleep. I wish I was climbing into bed with you. I'm so tired, but I miss wrapping myself around you

It was still early in Brussels. I knew Claire would have to get up and go back to work soon. The cab arrived and the concierge held the door for me; was happy to take my tip. I had sobered up a bit and was very happy to be going home. I looked up as we drove through Times Sq. It was mostly empty at this hour but the lights and signs were all as bright and as hectic as New Year's Eve. As the driver turned onto 9th Ave I texted Claire back.

I'm in a cab, almost home. Many adventures. I can't wait to watch my movie. I hope you are sleeping, that you are wrapped around me in your dreams, that you don't have to wake up too early and can dream of us as long as you want.

As the driver turned onto my street I put my phone away and prepared my fare, handing it through the window and thanking him as I got out.

It had been a strange and wonderful night. The whole thing, even the dinner, was dream-like. I thought of Ali and Rebekah, entwined, milky flesh and soft wet sounds; of holding Rebekah's foot while she kneeled between Ali's open legs, squeezing her hand as she came, looking up at me, Ali's panties clenched obediently in her teeth.

I thought of her strange confession, the way her eyes glittered as she smeared my underpants against her face. I hadn't had the courage to tell Ali and Rebekah about my own perversions, that I was a sneak as well. How I masturbated in my professors offices, in the women's locker room. I had masturbated downstairs at Hill House when Ali was home, just in the next room. Besides the leaded glass door to the entryway, the parlor floor of Hill House had been a series of rooms arranged around a big central hearth and separated by pocket doors that were never closed. I would masturbate just barely out of sight, where I could hear Ali. We had even talked while I was doing it.

"What are your plans this weekend Sarah?" she had called from the living room as I fingered myself to an orgasm. She had been quiet until then. I'd been listening to her breaths and little sub-vocalizations of tsks and sighs she made while studying - it had been enough.

"You should come out with us," she had told me, her voice coming closer.

I had struggled to answer as the orgasm had all but blown me apart me. It had been unexpectedly intense, I had flooded my panties; thought I might fall to my knees. Ali had been dating a big guy named Dale then.

"I'd feel like a third wheel," I remember I'd managed, and pulled myself together just as she'd come around the corner.

When Rebekah was making her confession, Ali had given me a couple of looks that made me wonder if she'd known.

My phone vibrated as I was climbing the last flight of steps.

"Good morning!" I whisper, my heel clicking on the tile.

"I would tell you 'good evening', but it's almost morning there too. You had a big night?"

Claire's voice was raspy with sleep, but sounded strained. I pictured her yelling over music, her drink and a lit cigarette held in the same hand.

"You've been smoking," I scold, desperately working my lock.

"Yes, yes... and why are you just getting home?" she asks, a naughty smile in her voice. "What have you been doing?"

"Kwasi organized a dinner at Little Frankie's for our old housemate, Ali. She inherited Hill House from me," I told her, dropping my keys and shrugging my jacket to the floor. "There were nine of us and Rebekah showed up!"