The Lesbian Nights Pt. 02

Note 1: This is a work of fiction and the characters depicted herein are purely figments of my own imagination; any resemblance to any other persons, real or fictional, is entirely coincidental and unintended.

Note 2: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. Although entirely fictional, the characters are all over the age of 18.

Note 3: This is a continuation of the story "The Lesbian Nights." It is (very) loosely patterned after the book "A Thousand and One Arabian Nights," but instead of a looming death sentence, our protagonist faces eviction from her landlady, unless she can keep her distracted. You don't have to read the first story, but it might help you to understand what's going on. Of course, you could just sit back and enjoy... "what's going on"... if you know what I mean. Incidentally, the protagonist, Kelly, is the same Kelly from my very first story, "That's Kelly!"

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It was several days before Catherine D'Boudec was able to work up the courage to face the young American student girl about the matter of the seriously delinquent rent. Her last attempt to confront her tenant had somehow gone awry and she had ended up naked and (she had to sheepishly admit to herself, very satisfied) on the girl's floor.

Catherine was, in truth, internally conflicted about the girl. Her new life in this provincial and very catholic French tourist town depended a great deal on her ability to maintain an impeccable reputation. However, since giving up her life in London, where she was not only free, but practically encouraged, to indulge in an uninhibited bisexual lifestyle and where being sexually open and liberated carried a certain cachet, she found herself feeling empty and restless. In London, the more open she was about being sexually active with women, the more male suitors she seemed to collect as well. But not here in this quiet village in this backwater province where a person's worth was measured in equal lengths by their heritage and their mastery at growing vegetables. Dinard was not London, despite its many British holidaymakers.

It was therefore inevitable that she would succumb to the sexual advances of the American. Kelly helped Catherine satisfy lusts and urges that she otherwise had to suppress, and being her tenant, it meant that Catherine could do so without having to troll through the local bars for accommodating sexual partners and risking exposure to her busy-body neighbors. It was an arrangement so convenient, that it was also inevitable that Catherine was soon taken advantage of by the beautiful and predatory vixen, and the rent, consequently, had gone unpaid for... Catherine couldn't even remember the last time Kelly had actually paid rent.

It had to stop. First, Catherine needed the money. Her large estate cost a fortune to run and the bookings for her Chambre d'hote were down again for the third year in a row. Letting the little cottage to the American student was supposed to be helping her to make ends meet. As it was, Catherine was dipping heavily into the family fortune and, vast though it was, it was something of a personal defeat that she was unable to earn a profit at her business. Also, she felt a deep-seated shame at her apparent arrangement with Kelly that she had in no way ever intended this to become. The girl had to pay up or go. That was that, and Catherine would just have to resign herself to satisfying her urges in other ways. Business was business.

So, once again, Catherine found herself striding confidently along the little flagstone walkway toward the cottage on the corner of the property. The walkway wound around the outside of a neat garden that was segregated into four quarters by intersecting gravel pathways. In the center of the garden was a pond with a large stone fountain. The pond was filled with koi and lilies. The garden itself was surrounded by a low stone wall lined with alternating benches and fruiting trees; pears and apples, mostly; with their branches stretched and secured to the walls like living candelabras. It always reminded Catherine of the sort of setting that Money would paint, perhaps with a young couple sharing a picnic.

As she rounded the back wall of the garden, the cottage came into view. She saw Kelly's bicycle leaning against the shed and a delivery man in a crisp white uniform was knocking at the door. Kelly came to the door just as Catherine was approaching.

Kelly and the man exchanged "bon jours" and Kelly signed the man's clipboard, taking possession of a large, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper and tied together with twine. It was then that Kelly spotted Catherine lingering nearby. "Bon jour, Mdme. D'Boudec! Aidez moi, s'il vous plait? Can you help me to carry this in the house?"

Catherine stood on the porch with her hands in the pockets of her suitpants. "What is all this?"

Kelly was wearing a pair of overall-shorts that were a little shorter than they needed to be over a pink crop-top that barely hung below her perky breasts. She was barefoot, as usual, and her curly dark brown hair seemed to have a life of its own today. "I have no idea! There's no return address, either. Let's bring it inside and take a look!"

The package was about four feet by six feet and flat; maybe only two to three inches thick. The two women carried it into the little living room. There was a basket of clothes on the sofa and another pile of clothes on the armchair. "Sorry about the mess. I am trying to do all of my laundry today. I'm going back to Belfast for the weekend for a friend's birthday, so I need to have all of this done by tomorrow." They set the package down on its edge in front of the fireplace. "D'accord! Voyons ce que vous êtes!"

Kelly cut the twine with a pair of sissors and tore the brown paper. The wrapping revealed a picture in a large frame, but a large piece of protective Styrofoam covered it. When she pulled that away, they could see that it was an oil painting. It was a striking abstract work done with sharp, almost cutting streaks of black, red and a vivid, intense green. "Oh.... Oh Didi!" Kelly uttered, almost to herself. She stood there silently staring at the work. After a few minutes, Kelly wiped at her eye with the back of her hand and sniffled back a tear. She collected herself, took a deep breath and said, "Didi, it's perfect. I love it."

Catherine looked confused. She watched as Kelly spun around and picked up her laundry. She carried it back to her bedroom and returned immediately, plopping herself down in the comfy arm chair and stared at the painting. "What IS this and who is 'Didi'?" Catherine asked.

Without looking at her, Kelly said, "Didi was my love in Augsburg."

Now Catherine remembered Kelly's story from the other night. "Qua..?" She started. "I thought the woman in Augsburg was named Vinka."

"That's right!" said Kelly, turning to look at Catherine for the first time since they had come inside. "I never told you about Augsberg. There is some wine in the kitchen. Bordeaux, I think. I opened it earlier. Bring it and I will tell you what happened."

Catherine cursed herself for getting off-track again. She needed to talk to Kelly about the rent, but she admitted that she was curious about the rest of the story. She fetched the bottle and filled two glasses, bringing the bottle and the glasses with her back into the living room and took a seat opposite Kelly on the sofa.

"So," began Kelly with a smile, "It was like this...

"I had to return to Belfast after my holiday in Champagne. So when I got back to le fac..." Kelly laughed. "I love this French word, 'le fac." I know it is short for "faculty" or school, but it sounds very rude in English. Like 'What le Fac!' Ha!

"Anway, when I got back, I wrote a letter to this woman named Vinka. For a while, I didn't hear anything. I completely forgot about it, but then, months later, I got this letter back from her. It was from an address in Sweeden. I have it here..." Kelly got up and went over to a little desk topped with a small bookcase. She withdrew a hardcover book from the shelf and opened it up. She pulled out a dog-eared, folded piece of paper and handed it to Catherine. Catherine opened it and read it. It was hand written in English:

Dearest Kelly,

Lucile told me that I should be hearing from you. I cannot wait to meet you, but it looks like I will have to. I have been called away to Stockholm for a project and I don't know when I will return. My flatmate, Derrika, is there waiting for you. You should go to see her soon.

I will write more when I can. Hopefully I will meet you before too long.

Love,

Vinka

P.S. Don't forget the champagne!

"C'est boucoup strange," remarked Catherine, turning the paper over looking for more explanation and finding none.

"Yes, I'd call that strange!" replied Kelly. "I've never even met the woman and here she says 'Dearest Kelly' and 'Love Vinka.' What is that all about!

"Anyway," Kelly continued, "I couldn't get to Augsburg until the end of the semester. After December... after le fete, I was free. Since then, I've just been researching for my dissertation and I didn't need to be in class, so I went to see Augsburg. I met up with Derrika at this little café down a side street near the old cathedral. They have two cathedrals there and they're both old, but for some reason this was the old one and not the new one like the other old one. She invited me to stay with her at her flat since Vinka was gone and she had the whole place to herself.

"I liked Derrika right away. She was... different. She had these electric blue streaks of color in her hair and tattoos and piercings, but she was tall and very pretty in a strange sort of way. She was an artist and her flat was located outside of the old part of the city, near the university. Her place was huge – it took up the entire top floor of this old building. On the bottom floor, there were shops and a small market, and above that there were small apartments – the kind that four or five students might all cram into to save on the rent. Vinka and Derrika had the top floor that had been an attic, but it had been converted. The walls were bare and the rafters were exposed – it was very cool and industrial looking.

Derrika had sectioned off the front part of the main room with brightly colored sheets to make a studio, where she had dozens of paintings, some finished and some half finished, stacked along the walls. Near the window, she had her easel and tables with all of her paints and supplies, and by the divider sheets, she had a sort of stage set up draped with cloths and a small wooden chair. Toward the back of the flat, there was a small kitchen and two large bedrooms. The bathroom was in the middle and was shared. She showed me to Vinka's empty room, which had a large window that looked out at nothing a brick wall from the next building.

I was only going to stay for a few days, but I started to meet Derricka's friends. They were all... I don't know the French word... hippies? Bohemians? I don't know. But they were all like Derrika – artistic and cool and laid back. They would gather in Derrika's flat on the weekends and play music and smoke pot and drink bad wine. It was a fun, cool time, and sometimes they would have sex, there, in the middle of the flat... sometimes it was just two of them and the rest of us watched. Sometimes, we would all get naked and roll around on the floor together, like one big animal, all moving together and being together. All of a sudden, I realized that I had been there for a month.

I would join in sometimes, too, but I began to notice that Derrika would only do it if I was doing it and when we joined, she always stayed with me, either making love to me, or staying by my side when her friends would play with me. So, one morning, when she was taking a shower, I decided to see if she wanted me, but was afraid to say so. I undressed and went into the shower with her. I remember she just stood there in the water for a moment, so I put my arms around her and pulled her into a soft hug. She started to cry and clung to me tightly. I asked her if this was what she wanted and she just sobbed and nodded her head.

I made love to her that morning. First in the shower, and then again and again for most of the day. After that, I didn't sleep in Vinka's room anymore. I slept every night with Derrika. Didi as we all called her. One night, when her friends came over to smoke and listen to music, she stripped me in front of her friends and had me stand on the coffee table while she licked my pussy. It was like a performance. After I had an orgasm, she let her friends have me, one by one. I had so many orgasms that night.

The next day, Didi told me that she wanted me to pose for a painting. I was very happy to be asked and of course, I said yes. I had to run errands that day, so I told her that I would return in the afternoon.

When I got back to the flat, Didi was in the studio. She was all set up to paint and, to my surprise, she had another model there. He was completely nude. He was this big giant of a guy with lots of muscles. Even his muscles had muscles. And he had this enormous, erect cock and he was completely hairless and all oiled up. Didi asked me to strip and told me that I would be posing with this man. It looked like fun, so I stripped for her and Didi put oil all over my body, too.

And then she posed us. She had him sit on the chair on the little stage and then had me kneel before him and told me to place my lips around the head of his cock, and instructed us both to stay perfectly still. I remember joking that there was no way he could stay like that for very long but she just said that he had taken a pill and he would be good and hard for hours. I did as she told me, but it wasn't easy. His cock was so big, that I could barely reach my fingers all the way around his shaft, let alone my mouth. Before long, my jaw was hurting and I told her I couldn't stay like that. So she repositioned us in a new pose; this time I was on all fours and he got behind me and pushed his hard cock halfway into my cunt from behind. At first, it was agony because he was so big, but then it was agony because he just sat there. If I tried to move at all, Didi scolded me and told me to hold still.

We did a few more poses like that. The whole time, Didi painted. First, with long, calm strokes on her canvas, but the longer it went on, the more aggressive she became, practically slapping the canvas with her brushes. After what seemed like a couple of hours, I was posed laying on my back, holding my ass up in the air with my hands and the guy had his shaft deeper inside of me. I could feel him start to twitch. I remember shouting, 'Time out!' and pulling back off of his cock. Just in time, too! A moment later, that giant cock went off like a fire hose –spraying hot, thick drops of cum everywhere. I was laughing because it got all over my body. The poor guy looked very embarrassed and he jumped up and ran to the bathroom.

'Well,' I said 'I guess we are finished. I have ruined your model." But Didi just put her brushes down and said that she was finished. She did four paintings that day, the whole time that I was posed right in front of her with this guy's cock hanging half out of me. She titled them 'Eifersucht.' 'Jealousy.' She wanted to capture the rage she felt at seeing her lover with another person. This painting, this one that she sent to me here is 'Eifersucht Vier.' 'Jealousy Four,' the last one she painted that day, when her jealousy was at its peak. When her models, we, were at our peak. It's a kind of message, I think." Kelly paused. "Oh, Didi."

Kelly stopped talking. She sniffed back another tear and tried to compose herself. Catherine gave her a moment before asking, "So, what happened? Why are you not together now?"

"Oh," said Kelly, flipping her curly hair back. "Didi was... political. It would never have worked. She had all of this anger at the world and she was always jumping from one cause to another... protesting this and marching for that. That's just not my world. That's not who I am. I think that life is beautiful and I want to sample it all, taste it all. I don't want to be angry all of the time. In the end, I needed to be free and Didi needed to possess me. I told Didi, my pussy belongs to the world, but my heart, my heart belongs only to me."

"So you left her?" asked Catherine, refilling her wine glass. She couldn't quite recall whether this was her third or fourth glass. At some point during the story, they had opened another bottle.

"Oui," mused Kelly. "As I was packing my bag to leave, I suddenly remembered the champagne for Vinka. I brought it to Didi, but she was very angry with me and she refused to take it. 'Go take it to her yourself. If your pussy belongs to the world, maybe you can give it to her, too,' she told me. So, I had failed. I still had Vinka's bottle and now I was going to have to find her on my own."

Catherine, now feeling very tipsy, cocked her head sideways and said, "What do you mean... 'your pussy belongs to the world?' That does not make any sense what you are saying."

Kelly stood, pulled the straps to her overalls over her shoulders and let them fall to the floor. She was naked underneath except for the little crop top. Her nipples poked little peaks in the thin fabric. She took two steps toward the sofa where Catherine was sitting and stood with her hands on her bare hips. "I mean this, Chouchou," she said softly.

Catherine set her drink down and leaned forward. Kelly's body was very close and she could feel the warmth emanating off of her skin... she could smell the scent of her perfume comingling with the musky scent of her pussy. Kelly placed her hands on Catherine's head and guided her to her womanhood. First, she felt Catherine's hot breath tickle the tight curls of her pubic hair, and then she felt the light kisses. Next came Catherine's tongue; hard and pointed, probing for Kelly's clit, then softening when it was found. Kelly felt Catherine's hands on her strong, shapely calves. She felt them slide slowly up over the backs of her thighs and come to rest cupping the underside of her butt. After caressing each cheek, Catherine's fingers moved inward, finding the cleft of Kelly's ass and opening it wide. Meanwhile, Catherine pressed her face deeper into Kelly's womanhood, lathering her cunt with long, slow licks.

Kelly giggled and pulled away. She turned, dropped to her knees on the floor with her back to Catherine and bent forward until her head lay on her folded arms. She waved her butt high in the air inviting her landlady to come and partake of her. Catherine didn't hesitate. She dropped to the floor behind the girl and draped her arms around the girl's waist. She bit Kelly playfully on her right cheek and then lowered her head. With her cunt spread open, Catherine could inhale her musky scent. Starting at Kelly's exposed clit, Catherine began to trace a line with her tongue... up through the wet opening of her lips, up over the place where her lips came together, up over the sensitive skin between her pussy and her anus, and finally over the tight rosebud of her ass.

Kelly squealed a happy little squeal and wiggled her butt. Catherine smiled. She brought her right hand around to the back and slipped the tips of two fingers inside Kelly's now sopping cunt. They began a rhythmic motion, sliding in and out, back and forth, making a wet sound every time they drove inward. Meanwhile, Catherine kept up her assault on the girl's anus, probing around the rim and pressing the tight opening with the tip of her tongue.

Kelly uttered a deep, sighing moan. "Ooooohhhh Oui Chouchou!" Kelly began to rock back and forth on her knees, trying to match Catherine's rhythm, but before long, she reached a peak that she couldn't surmount. Frustrated, she dropped to the floor and rolled over. She locked eyes with Catherine in a look that conveyed raw, animal lust. She pulled Catherine roughly on top of her and locked her open mouth to Catherine's. Her tongue probed the woman's mouth hungrily, while her legs wrapped themselves around one of Catherine's. Curving her back, Kelly drove her wet pussy into Catherine's upper thigh. Catherine instinctively entwined her own legs around Kellys so that they gripped each other, pussy to thigh, and they began to grind against each other.