Strap-on Mittens

Feeling more confident seeing Nina blushing and giggling and embarrassed, Samantha teased.

Because I know that'll feel good.

"Closer every day," she whispered, putting more breath in than she needed, heating Nina's ear. "I'm trying to get my body used to the idea. Get over the shyness. So I think about it a lot."

Nina swallowed. "Me too," she confessed. "When you're not around, I mean."

Samantha grinned. "You touch yourself, while you're thinking about that?"

Nina shivered. "Yes," she squeaked.

"Before we even kissed," said Samantha, pulling back a little so she could touch her lips to Nina's cheek, tap them around just beneath her eye, "you'd lie in bed and think about it, wouldn't you?" She stroked Nina's shoulders, gave soft little pecks to the bridge of her nose, moving between her freckled cheeks. Nina's eyes were closed, and she took shuddery little breaths. "Using that special toy I made for you. Watching, in your mind's eye, as I wriggled about above you. Waiting for it."

"Yes," breathed Nina.

"Y'know," mused Samantha, "I was all squirmy about even bringing it up, a minute ago. And then I saw you getting excited and nervous and embarrassed, I saw how much you were blushing." She grinned, canines exposed. "And now I feel much better, thank you."

Samantha watched Nina slowly open her eyes. "Glad I could help," she whispered.

Samantha smiled at her, took her chin between thumb and forefinger, kissed her gently but thoroughly, soft lips sliding between her own, closing Nina's eyes again - pulling back, letting them open, Nina's lips wet. "I'm really settling into this role," Samantha said, quietly, looking at Nina shivering, still holding her chin. "It gives me confidence, in a way I wasn't expecting." With her other hand she gently stroked Nina's cheeks, felt their heat. "I'm looking forward to when my body catches up." She kissed Nina's cheek, high on her cheekbone. "Because I really want to wet these freckles."

"Oh God, me too," whispered Nina, hungrily, striking Samantha with wicked inspiration, provoking another teeth-out grin.

"You can help," she said, in a low, fanged voice.

"How?" shuddered Nina.

"I have an idea," said Samantha, reaching a hand down, stroking Nina's soft, bare legs. Obediently, they parted, and Samantha stroked slowly up Nina's inner thighs as she spoke. "Let me run it past you, and you can tell me whether you'd enjoy it or not."

"Oh-mmf," said Nina, as Samantha's fingers reached a sensitive spot where her crotch met her thigh, stroking, Nina's skin soft, her knees parting further, welcoming. "Okay," she managed.

"I don't know whether you'd find this arousing," said Samantha, gently moving the pad of her index finger over Nina's clitoral hood, "or whether you'd feel like some kind of a sex pest. But tell me... does the sound turn you on?"

Nina squirmed as Samantha stroked her. "It depends," she murmured. "In a random bathroom, no, I don't get off on listening. I need the context - ohhh," she moaned, Samantha's finger writhing, tickling.

Samantha grinned. "Would it turn you on," she questioned, gently, "to come and press your ear up against my bathroom door?"

Nina shivered, Samantha's fingertip wet. Her blush deepened. "I- I..." Nina stammered.

"You could listen. Touch yourself, if you wanted to. If I knew you were listening," breathed Samantha, "it'd be hard. But probably possible. Good exercise, certainly." She slid her finger between Nina's labia and the chair, feeling the wetness therein - borne of her talk of strap-ons and intimate, embarrassed whispering. "There isn't much that embarrasses you, is there?" she grinned.

"No," Nina shook her head.

"But this does, doesn't it? Especially when I'm not torturing the information out of you. It's harder, isn't it, confessing of your own free will? Asking me for something unusual, that you enjoy?"

"Yes," breathed Nina.

Samantha smiled at her, squelching her finger around. Nina was a mess - blushing, sweating, shaking. Samantha decided on mercy. "I won't make you ask. I'm going upstairs, to the bathroom," she said, quietly. "If you like, you can follow me."

She withdrew her finger, stood up, raised it to her nose, sniffed. "You smell great, by the way." She gave Nina a smile, dipped her finger into her mouth, started walking out of the kitchen.

She heard Nina's chair scraping behind her, and looked over her shoulder, swallowing her taste. Nina walked shakily, looking almost drunk, her eyes gleaming, her cheeks bright red.

Holy shit, this REALLY does it for her. I don't know if I've ever seen her this worked up.

I hope I don't disappoint her. "Just to make clear," Samantha clarified, "I've never done this before and I've no idea if I'll even be able to pee in those circumstances."

"But you have to go, right?" asked Nina, eyes pleading.

"Yeah," said Samantha. "Come on." She reached a hand behind her. Nina took it.

***

Nina's lips slipped reluctantly away from Samantha - she watched Samantha's bespectacled eyes grinning at her before the door gently closed in her face.

"JesusfuckingChrist" she breathed, her forehead against the wood, her knees buckling, sliding down the door until she knelt on the carpet. "Fuckfuckfuck," she continued, fighting to keep her breathing under control, her heart pounding in her ears.

"I'm pulling my pants down," said Samantha in a happy sing-song voice, muffled through the wood.

"Fuck," breathed Nina, her hand drifting between her legs - Soaked. I'm utterly, utterly drenched. If I were wearing undies, they'd be in the wash. She was conscious of the fabric of her T-shirt brushing against her nipples with every breath. Christ, I feel like a hormonal teenager.

"I'm sitting down," called Samantha. The inside of the bathroom appeared in Nina's mind, high-def 3D with surround sound.

I haven't been this horny since...

She pondered, panting, her ear to the wood.

Since she taped me to that kitchen chair and made me tell her my nastiest piss-fantasies.

Yup.

I'm a pervert.

"And now we wait," said Samantha, from inside.

I was JUST sitting in that very chair! realized Nina. "Waiting is the best part," she panted, smiling, breathless.

Samantha's laughter bubbled through the door. "Quiet," she giggled, "I'm trying to pee."

Nina grinned. "I'm trying to masturbate," she teased, and gripped herself tightly, her middle finger slipping between her lips. Nipples oversensitive, she yanked off the T-shirt and knelt naked at the bathroom door, left ear pressed tight to the wood, right hand between her legs.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

She panted, shameless, letting Samantha hear.

"This is a new low," she moaned to the door, "even for me."

"What's it like down there?" asked Samantha.

"It's wet and it smells like pussy," said Nina. "God this is nasty. I feel dirty doing this, Sam."

Nina heard concern in Samantha's voice. "In a good way, I hope?"

Nina pressed her forehead to the door, hard enough to leave a mark, right hand furiously rubbing her slippery, sensitive clit. "Fuck yes."

"Oh, good!" said Samantha. Nina heard the smile. "Want me to tell you you're a perv?"

Nina panted through a wide-open smile, her teeth shiny, the door moistening with her breath. "I want you to pee, Sam! I already know I'm a perv!" Her left hand reached up to squeeze her breast, pinch a pert and sensitive nipple between thumb and forefinger.

"It's surprisingly difficult," said Samantha, inside. "I'm trying. Are you...?"

Nina moaned, body wracked with sensation, butting the door gently with her forehead, latch clicking against the frame.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Samantha, thoughtfully. "You sound close."

"Fuck, Sam," moaned Nina, wiping a strand of drool from her lip. "I think I'm gonna -" and, to her surprise, she did. Nina curled up on herself, her clit ablaze, her nipples on fire, and shook and trembled and cried out loud enough for Samantha to hear through the door.

She rested her forehead back against the wood and took deep, shuddering breaths, leaking slowly onto her right palm, pleasure fighting with guilt.

"I didn't pee yet," pointed out Samantha.

Nina brought her hand up and looked at it, panting. "I'm wet enough it looks like I did," she breathed. "What the fuck am I doing," she continued, quieter.

"Having a naked lunch moment?" called Samantha.

Nina laughed. "Yeah. Phffuuuuu," she exhaled.

"I love you," sang Samantha, loud and bright.

Nina grinned. "Even if I'm a fleabag trash pervert?"

"Nina, I'll gladly hold you down in the trash and piss right into your open mouth if I can get my fucking body to co-operate."

Nina chuckled, sniffing her fingers. "Glad to hear it," she said, quietly.

God, I'm disgusting.

The two were quiet for a moment.

"You feel okay, out there?" called Samantha, softly.

"Kinda?" said Nina, thoughtfully. "I mean, the absurdity of this situation is kicking in a bit."

"I only want you to feel like a pervert when it's fun, hon," called Samantha. "Do you wanna stop?"

"I don't know," said Nina, standing up, looking around for a tissue. "I'm a mess."

"Oh, hon, I'm sorry," said Samantha.

"No, I mean literally, like, I'm dripping goo here, Sam, my hand's covered in it. Where are the damn tissues?"

"They're on your side," said Samantha.

"They're not," called Nina, leaning over the bed. She felt something with her toe. "They're on your side, under the bed."

"Nina, I love you," called Samantha. "Do you need a hug?"

Nina sat down on the carpet outside the bathroom door. "Wouldn't hurt. But don't you, like, really need to pee?"

"Yeah."

Nina chuckled softly. "I love you too," she said, quietly.

"Hon?"

Nina felt her crotch. Oversensitive. "Yeah, Sam?"

There was a moment's silence - then the tiny trickle of a few drops, maybe a teaspoon's worth.

"You hear that?" said Samantha, her voice low. Nina heard the glistening canines, the narrowed eyes, the red cheeks.

Her own quickly reddened.

"I heard it," she said, her heartbeat accelerating.

"I think I can..." there was another brief, strained trickle.

"Oh God..." Nina's fingers touched her clit, found it oversensitive - slithered through her labia and curled effortlessly inside her instead, her palm rubbing over her clitoral hood. Her breath quickened. Her cheeks burned. She squelched and slipped and pressed her ear to the door, spread her thumb and little finger wide apart to reach both of her nipples at once. "More. Please," she begged, shamelessly.

"You touching yourself again?" asked Samantha, with a smile.

"Yes," panted Nina, "like a filthy, nasty little pervert."

"Good," said Samantha. "What're you thinking about?"

Nina swallowed. "Swallowing it," she breathed, her mouth full of saliva. "And you, holding my hair and rubbing your cunt in my face."

"While peeing?" asked Samantha.

"Duh," giggled Nina, fingers moving. She moaned quietly against the door, her shame forgotten - no, overriden, she thought, I'm so far through it it feels good now. I'm a lost cause. Ship me off to the convent and have the nuns whip me every morning.

Samantha didn't respond - in Nina's imagination she sat, brow furrowed, eyes closed, concentrating...

A few drops became a trickle became a stream and Nina threw her head back and opened her mouth, willing it to splash her tongue. She panted and cried out and writhed and imagined Samantha's bitterness pattering against her face, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her closed eyes. She let go of her nipples and formed a claw and scratched at the door - the stream cut off for a heartbeat and resumed, the wood warm, the white paint tasting of dust, breathless, ears ringing, butt off the floor, hand soaked, shame complete, trickle dying down, ass lowering, orgasm receding, leaving her a trembling, sweating, blushing mess on a formerly-clean carpet.

She panted noisily into the quiet.

"Did you come again?" asked Samantha.

"Yeah," she panted. She swallowed. She took deep breaths, heard toilet paper coming off the roll. "I licked the fucking door, Sam. Christ."

"Yikes," laughed Samantha. "I love that this turns you on so much." The toilet flushed.

Nina lay exhausted in the doorway, hearing Samantha pull up her pants, zipper and belt. "I ordered the strap-on and horse syringe on my phone, while I was on the toilet," called Samantha, as Nina heard a faucet open. "I got two-day shipping," she continued, as she washed her hands. "I'm really looking forward to it. I'm actually really excited. It's gonna be here between four forty-five and six forty-five." The water cut off. "I'm just gonna be watching the delivery status all day." Nina was still out of breath when Samantha opened the door, and looked down at her.

Nina swallowed. "I'd offer to make you come too," she wheezed from the floor, "but I think I'm gonna die."

Samantha nodded. "You need pancakes."

Nina had just about enough strength to give a thumbs-up.

***

TWO DAYS LATER, BETWEEN 16:45 AND 18:45

"Damn it, she's chatting with the lady across the street!" moaned Nina, watching out of the window.

"Oh my God, Judy," moaned Samantha. "She'll be there for hours."

"I can see the package!" Samantha watched Nina squirm and wriggle, and she couldn't help but grin. "It's right there in her hand!"

"I hope you remember who's going first," said Samantha, patting Nina's wriggling butt. "I can't wait to see you in it."

"I'm gonna go warm up the stuff," said Nina, and bolted for the kitchen.

"Remember I've gotta drill the hole first," called Samantha after her.

She really is eager, thought Samantha. Noticed her own heartbeat was a little quick. She took some deep breaths - no using power tools while excited, she reminded herself. "Oh, miracle of miracles," she breathed, watching Judy bid the mail lady farewell without getting into a fifteen-minute conversation. "It's coming!" she called to Nina, standing up, walking towards Nina in the kitchen.

"It soon will be," called Nina, shutting off the faucet and putting the kettle on its base. "Think I made enough?" She turned around, and dropped her voice. "Oh, you're here."

Samantha eyed the container of pink solution. "Probably? You're sure it's body-safe?"

Nina nodded, dipping a finger in and tasting it. "Tasty too."

"You're a genius," grinned Samantha, kissing Nina on her cheek, and then she made for the door.

The package was on the doorstep. Samantha grabbed it, shouted "Thank you!" to the retreating mail lady, and ducked back inside. "Got it!" she called to Nina.

"I'm not ready yet!" said Nina. "The kettle hasn't even boiled!"

"Can't you microwave it?" asked Samantha, bringing the package into the kitchen, tearing open the box.

"I'm scared of hot spots," said Nina. "Y'know, like when you have, like, a hot pocket or something, and there's two icy cold bites and then you burn your tongue."

Samantha briefly considered telling Nina she could just stir the hot pink redefined-semen-analogue after heating it, but figured the end result would be the same and Nina wouldn't think she was a smartass. "Fair enough," she agreed, "I'm gonna be a few minutes with this anyway." She retrieved the dildo from the box, tore off the crinkly plastic wrapper.

It was smooth. Soft to the touch yet firm to a squeeze. "Whouf," she whispered, "this feels nice!"

"Let me feel," said Nina, and reached out for a stroke. "Hmm. Yeah, this company's never let me down. Sam, it's so pretty!"

Samantha nodded. "Yeah, it is. Alright, let's get it in the vice." She did so, and clamped it down. "Now let me concentrate."

It was an extremely long, narrow, delicate drill bit, and Samantha felt nervous about it breaking. Deep breath, she reminded herself, picking up the drill, inserting its battery. The machine doesn't care if you're nervous or not. She worked slowly, frequently pulling the bit back to clear the hole - when she smelled something funny, she backed off completely and gave it time to cool down. That heated up quick.

She felt a tap on her shoulder - Nina stood behind her, pantsless, wearing the harness. Samantha had chosen one in Pride colors - feeling, as she hit the "buy" button, that Nina would appreciate them.

Until this moment, she hadn't registered that those colors were for her, too.

She felt her stomach turn over at the realization that she'd spent, by now, probably dozens of hours with her tongue buried inside another woman, spent hundreds of hours curled up on the couch or spooning her in bed, had made a life with her, and still thought of the rainbow flag as something belonging to other people.

Fuck, I'm thinking of asking her to move in, and it's only just occurring to me now that I'm part of this club?!

"Holy shit, I'm gay," she said to Nina, her eyes wide.

"Hmm," said Nina, nodding, grinning. "Wait 'til you see the back," she said, turning around.

"Yeah, you're right," said Samantha, to Nina's freckly bottom, "I'm even gayer now."

"What clued you in?" asked Nina, wiggling. "Was it my butt? It does that."

"It was the rainbow," murmured Samantha. "When'd you even put that on?"

"You've been drilling the dildo for like five minutes, Sam," said Nina, adjusting the straps. "You were concentrating really hard."

She thinks I'm goofing around, thought Samantha, not feeling a part of me getting its last screw all the way tightened up. "I'm so gay," she said, reaching for Nina's ass, giving the right cheek a gentle squeeze.

"So fucking gay," grinned Nina, pushing back into Samantha's palm. "You done yet?"

Samantha grinned and shook her head. I'll tell her later. "Just gotta get the tubing in."

"So you're done with the power tools," said Nina, turning around, ginger fluff visible - the harness attached to her thighs, leaving her crotch and butt accessible. "So I can watch?"

"Yeah," said Samantha, turning back to the task at hand, picking up the tubing. "Oh," she muttered.

"What is it?"

Samantha pointed to the base. "If that's gonna be pressed up against you, then the tubing's gonna have to do, like, a ninety-degree turn. I didn't think of that."

"Come again?" queried Nina.

"Look," said Samantha, turning the vice handle, releasing the dildo, holding it to Nina's crotch. "The tubing is gonna be going in from this side, right? You're gonna loop the syringe into the harness strap," she pointed, "and the tubing's gonna go up here, and then when it gets into the actual dildo it's gonna have to bend to go forwards."

"You think it'll kink?" asked Nina.

"Maybe," muttered Samantha. "I'd drill in again, from below and at an angle upwards -" she traced the line with her finger - "but I'm impatient."

Nina grinned. "So you're just gonna ram it through and cross your fingers."

Samantha smiled back. "Yup. Gimme a minute here."

***

A minute turned into five, then into ten, as Nina watched Samantha struggle with the thing. The hole Samantha drilled wanted to close up - she narrated something about internal tensions as she struggled and swore and looked for tools to help.

Nina, of course, watched her fingers. Occasionally massaged her shoulders. Was extremely glad she wasn't the one doing this - it looked like trying to feed a cooked spaghetti noodle through a block of cheese. Samantha re-drilled the hole, squeezing the toy tighter in the vise - there were some funny smells as the toy heated up. Finally it was ready, "or at least," explained Samantha, "as ready as it's gonna be."