The Pink Pearl Pt. 02

Rain pelted the concrete in a tap dance of anger and splashed upwards where the incessant droplets landed in the oasis of the saltwater pool. Leslie took a swig of her beer as the scent of petrichor wafted around her as her mane fought itself free from her hair tie. Leslie's naked feet crossed at the ankles, skinny jeans left unzipped, and nipples with their gentle aggression poked through her wife-beater. If it weren't raining, she'd probably be swimming. 'I'm gonna get wet either way,' she thought to herself, and as if to affirm her decision to stay inside the sky boomed.

"Well, never mind then," she raised the clear and golden bottle to her lips.

It had been a long time since she'd just sat outside on her screened-in balcony and watched the weather. The sky folded in on itself with blues, blacks, and purples of the royal hue, the clouds bruised a once clear sky.

Leslie listened to the percussion of the petulant weather and closed her eyes. It didn't take much to imagine Persia and how she'd taken her open invitation. One Leslie had no business giving but nevertheless, permission was never something she asked for, and full disclosure she wasn't one to ask for forgiveness either. She let out a heaving sighing and allowed her mind to wander. All of that ebony hair, a silken curtain to frame such severe grey eyes. Her plush lips tasted of cucumber melon and how her tongue moved with such ease as though she had been waiting for Leslie to complete the dance.

The double-paned accordion doors opened behind her and the sound snatched Leslie back to life.

"You know," the saccharine sweet voice sidled up behind her, "if it wasn't for your fuckin cat, I don't think I'd ever been able to find you.

"Chet is a man after my own heart," Leslie stroked the top of tabby colored Maine Coon that jumped in her lap.

"That's one thing I can appreciate about you," Audrey's auburn curls fell around Leslie's face as she began to kiss the soft spot behind her ear, "you've always been really good with pussy."

Leslie let of a half-smile and Audrey made her way around Leslie's chair, shooed away Chet, and straddled her.

"I hope you didn't go to work like that?" Leslie cocked a brow and put her beer down. One hand gripped Audrey's hip the other hand made its way to Audrey's wet cunt.

"No," Audrey lamented as she leaned her head back a groan of ecstasy escaped her ruby lips, "I tend not to show up to work naked."

Leslie drew her hand back as far as the tight space would allow before giving Audrey's cunt a good hard smack, "Thwap!"

Audrey jerked her head up and yelped.

"Was that attitude I sensed?" Leslie's face became stern and granite hard. The buxom redhead was now sitting at attention attempting to put in her most cherub-like face.

"Mmm," Leslie's eyes narrowed and that same hand parted Audrey's lips and began to massage the sting away. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

Audrey's supple caramel breasts lulled forward, and she began to curl into Leslie's chest.

"I'm sorry," Audrey spoke in broken breaths, her hips voluntarily rocking against Leslie's hand.

"There's my girl," Leslie cooed and used the hand holding Audrey's hip to cup her breast and rub her thumb over a rosebud nipple.

Audrey anchored herself to Leslie's lap with her twitching thighs. She bit her bottom lip and moved upright allowing curled tendrils to cascade down her back and hang there like ripe fruit.

Audrey's hips quaked and she bucked them forward as Leslie slid two fingers inside her hungry cunt yet continuing to navigate the current of pleasure via Audrey's clit.

Leslie's index and middle finger stroked the ridged plush walls of Audrey's cunt. Leslie, curving them and curling them inside Audrey as to literally beckon forth an orgasm.

Audrey leaned in and began kissing behind Leslie's ear, down her jawline, and down her neck. Her teeth nipped and grazed all the way down to Leslie's sternum and Audrey reached a well-manicured hand up to gently pinch one of Leslie's hidden nipples. They both hummed.

Leslie sped up the pace of her fingers, taking one of Audrey's breasts into her mouth and suckling like a small child would. Audrey released her grip on Leslie's nipple to cup the back of Leslie's blonde head.

"I have to cum," Audrey could hardly breathe for tamping down the urge to wet Leslie's hand.

Leslie pulled her head away from Audrey's breast and answered sharply, "Hold it."

Audrey's eyes grew wide with panic as her thighs quaked, "I...I can't."

"I said," as Leslie quickened the pace of her fingers, "hold it."

They locked eyes for a moment and Audrey tried to breathe through it, but her cunt betray her and began to restrict around Leslie's fingers.

"Hold it or I'll cane you," Leslie's free hand now had Audrey's face pinched between forefinger and thumb. Audrey nodded vigorously and empty response.

"Please," the word but a pleading whisper as Audrey's body began to shake. Leslie gave no response, she just leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and saw Alice's face as Audrey's body, a Judas, let loose one convulsion after another.

It was no use; Leslie had given her no response and she could hold it no longer. Audrey let go of her reservations and cried out in pleasure as well as fear. Her cry caught in her thought like a fist but her orgasm a hurricane. Audrey's cunt squeezed and flexed around Leslie's unrelenting fingers until she came all over Leslie's hand.

It was uncommon for Leslie to set Audrey up for failure like that but while Audrey fought the urge to cum, Leslie fought the urge to say Alice's name.

Audrey leaned forward and began to sob silently even as the aftershocks of her disobedience rippled through her.

"Get the cane," Leslie whispered.

Audrey nodded obediently, sniffing, and wrapping an arm around her waist. She paused, "It's not fair you know." Audrey whimpered before sauntering off obediently.

"You should've behaved better," Leslie retorted over her shoulder as she listened to Audrey's footsteps disappear and believed her to be out of earshot whispered, "You should've been Alice."

***

The Magpie was a dimly lit bar that seemed to retain the majority of its original charm sans a few needed revamps. The bar took up a coveted corner lot in the SoHo district, where money talked, and bullshit walked. Jason had been introduced to Alice there by a couple of mutual friends, Janis, and Eric to be exact. Even now as he sat at the bar with his future wife Eileen, he saw the ghost of Alice on every barstool surrounding the two of them. Alice's long and wild black hair, she was unlike anything he'd ever seen before her eyes like glacial chips, her throaty laugh, the way she danced. Now he was sitting here with a very different woman inside of a bar that he'd bought Alice as a wedding gift and she'd made sure to give back during the divorce proceedings. Eileen never knew the story behind The Magpie and anyone who'd been around long enough knew better than to bring it up in front of the 'new' Mrs. McKenny. Eileen had very large heels to fill, and the shadow Alice had cast was far further than she ever expected. Everyone but she seemed to understand that.

Eileen sat at the bar thin legs crossed at the knee and nursing a cranberry and vodka. From what Jason managed to pay attention to, she and her friend Heather had a rather long day filled with swiping Jason's black card. Ever since he put a ring on her finger all she has managed to do is spend his money almost near as fast as he could make it. His mind faded in and out between memories of Alice and wondering if he loved Eileen or if she really loved him or his fucking bank account. It didn't matter to him at this point, he was sick of being alone and she was easy on the eyes and not so terrible in bed. Nowhere near the hellcat, Alice was but then again, she wasn't Alice either.

"Are you even listening to me?" Eileen's look of distraught often came across as a flirtatious pout.

"I am," Jason was reeled back into reality and now had to look at Eileen's fairy face and pixie cut. Jason couldn't deny that Eileen was beautiful, all of the angles that constructed her face seemed to have been coaxed to the surface by Michelangelo himself. Eileen Risdon was a wonderfully intelligent woman who stood second only to Alice...his Galatea. The one who couldn't have been more perfect if he'd begged Aphrodite for her himself.

"The wedding is soon you know," Eileen took another sip from her perspiring glass, "Have you said anything to Alice about taking Gavin with us?"

"I'm sure she won't mind. Gavin has traveled with me before without Alice having much to say about it," Jason waved away her comment.

"Jason," Eileen place a delicate hand on top of his, "I meant about the custody agreement?"

"Eileen," Jason's face filled with shadows, "in five more years Gavin will be able to make his own choices but right now he is doing like most children of divorced couples do. Enjoying his parents, the best he can. Now if you could please let this go?"

Though she'd meant to protest, Jason had already eased a hand under her pale blue dress. His fingers making their way to her blushing cunt. Eileen uncrossed her legs and turned inward just enough that it looked as though she were adjusting in her seat. Jason watched her, stone-faced, as his fingers migrated further up the inside of her thigh. Eileen took a sip of her drink acting as though there was merely a pause in the conversation between them. He nudged her legs apart a fraction further, a gestured command, his probing fingers made their way to her lace panties, and Eileen stifled a gasp. Gingerly placing her tumbler back down on her napkin coaster, she turned to meet his gaze. Eileen bit her bottom lip, and her eyes began to blink languidly as Jason pushed the filagree layer to the side.

He studied his soon-to-be wife's face as he parted the pursed lips of her sodden cunt, sliding his index finger down the ravine leading to her clit. Eileen parted her legs a half an inch further, the cranberry tart at the back of her throat. She wanted another sip of her drink, but she couldn't bring herself to pick it up and put her parched lips to it. Jason began to rub as though he were trying to rub a stain out with his fingers, he watched Eileen fight the urge to shutter. His cock grew hard and his boxers were beginning to stick to his foreskin.

The patrons around them seemed to fade away and a humming sound took over Eileen's ears, she couldn't think. What had they been talking about? Jason could see her fighting to form thoughts and he slid his fingers in further, her cunt drinking his fingers like a slow kiss. She flexed around his fingers and her thoughts became even heavier.

"Look at me," Jason spoke. She answered with a firm nod before she pushed his hand away.

"Now you want me to pay attention to you?" Eileen crossed her legs and took a sip from her glass, "Jason, I'm not a fucking idiot and my cunt isn't a mute button."

He looked at her bemused. Eileen smirked at him, twirling the 4ct emerald cut on her left ring finger. She wasn't going to allow Jason to just put her off, after all, she was a lawyer before she signed up to be his trophy wife. She was not as stupid as she let him think, Eileen was going to stop those child support and alimony checks if it killed her. Almost as is sensing her thoughts Jason turned away from her and thought to himself, 'I need to call Greg and have him amend the prenup. This bitch is getting nothing if I can help it.'

***

Janis sat swathed in canary-yellow, her evening gown looked as though it were held together by stray pushpins. It was supposedly 'couture' according to the ladies at J'adore. Why these people wanted to stick Janis in such a horrendous color was beyond Alice. Janis was washed out by the crass color; in Alice's opinion, she was wearing a fucking stoplight. Were these women serious? This had to be some sort of joke or bet these women played to see which one of them could sell Janis the ugliest fucking dress in the store for top dollar. Alice kept her mouth shut, there was some dark part of her that oddly enough wanted to see where this shit show was headed.

"You ya like it?" Janis spun around a figure in an empty jewelry box, "The yellow is just great huh?"

"Mmm," Alice took a sip from her champagne flute and lifted her brows to avoid answering but assumed that it looked like a positive answer. She hoped it looked like one anyway.

"Eric is gonna flip!" she turned to look at the hideous thing in the three-way mirror surrounding this grotesque dress. Alice determined the longer you looked the worse it got. The shining fabric bagged around her petite frame like cake piping done by someone with a hand cramp.

"And what is this dress for again?" Alice asked almost hoping that this was just one of Janis' dress fetishes and that it would make it to her walk-in closet and never see the light of day again. Even if the damn thing was the color of the light of day.

"Don't you remember?" Janis spun around and that dress belled around her like the Liberty Bell.

Alice looked at her incredulously, "Janie, do you think I would be asking if I fucking remembered?"

Janis sighed heavily, "The Annual Broker's Ball, surely you haven't forgotten about that?"

"Janis, I could give a fuck about that. I didn't even like it when it was required of me to go. Now you have Eileen as a comrade." Alice was now antagonizing her best friend.

"Are you fuckin kiddin me?" Janis handed her flute to the nearest attendant, "She's been up Jason's ass of late to revisit the custody agreement about Gavin." Janis put a hand on her hip, Alice laughed not only at the absurdity of the comment but because Janis managed to look more like Mrs. Potts than Belle.

"She tired of playing step-mom?" Alice's laugh trailed off.

"No, Alice. What'd ya live in a fuckin hole?" Janis walked towards her and sat down, "She wants Jason to have FULL custody of Gavin."

"Jason's not mentioned a word of it to me," Alice posture still oddly relaxed, "He knows better."

"Well, she's mentioned it more than enough times to make Eric sick of hearing about it via Jason," Janis stood again, "So get you one of these dresses pretty girl. Remind her that YOU left Jason and he conceded. NOT the other way around."

"I'll think about it Janie," Alice took another sip of her champagne and acquired a faraway look, "I'm not concerned about her or my divorce agreement with Jason. If Eileen gets too big for her panties than I'll cut her back down to size. Besides it's not like I can just waltz in there without being the plus one of someone that's been invited."

"I'll talk to Eric," Janis smiled, "I'm sure there will be no end to the line of people willing to take you."

"Jason would fire them on the spot," Alice nearly burst out laughing.

"Can't," Janis smiled wryly, "Ya both are divorced, you helped build the company, we're besties, and he doesn't want to pay out a large settlement just because his emotions got the better of'em."

"True," Alice was more than flirting with the idea now.

"Let Ms.Stick-up-her-ass know who is who and what is what. From what I hear she needs to be knocked down a peg or two anyway," Janis beckoned quickly for her champagne and then downed it.

"You hear an awful lot these days Janie," Alice propped her head up in her hand.

Janis just smiled and shrugged, "Get you a dress pretty girl, that's all I'm sayin."

Alice nodded, "Since we're on the topic of friendly advice? Please don't buy that dress it's a hotmess Janie and I hate how much it washes you out."

Janis frowned but before she could get defensive, Alice cut her off, "Let me pick it. You loved my dress at Voltaire's, hell you could even wear it if you wanted."

"And you'll go?" Janis toyed with the idea.

"Not if you show up in that thing, "Alice wrinkled her nose at the dress.

"And you'll go if I don't wear this dress that I love so much," Janis tried to smile.

"Buy the damn dress, Janis. Just get buried in it so I'll only have to look at it once and 30mins max before they close the casket and lower your extra ass into the ground," they both began to laugh.

"Alright, alright, deal," Janis conceded and then motioned again for another flute of champagne, this time for each of them.

***

Audrey's hind end was raw, and blood pooled on the surface in certain areas. Leslie had been ruthless with each blow, Audrey wept and screamed and begged. Leslie hadn't whipped her like that since they'd first gotten together, and Audrey decided to have one too many drinks and wake up in someone else's bed. Audrey held herself up off the St. Andrew's cross she was strapped to, each muscle straining and screaming for relief. Her thighs burned, her abdomen cramped from the heaving and wailing she'd done a few hours ago. It hadn't helped her, it seemed to only fuel Leslie's anger at a minor infraction that was inevitable. Leslie had set her up for failure, punished her for her ignorance, and now left her strapped here for the last two hours to think about everything that had just happened. Her tears had long dried, salted her lips, and antagonizing her thirst. Audrey didn't dare call out; she didn't want to risk being put through the wringer again.

Her head lulled forward, and she played over the numbers of the days meeting through her head. Backward and forward their proposal had been foolproof, so she could trust that there wasn't much for Eric Windsor to cock-up. He made so many inappropriate advances she almost told him on more than one occasion about Leslie but changed her mind. Eric and his insufferable wife Janis would see her and Leslie at the Broker's Ball next weekend and then they both could shove it. Audrey wasn't sure if this thought comforted her at this very juncture.

The door to the room swung open and Audrey's head snapped in its direction, her thoughts dropped and scattered to the floor like marbles. The slow dull clack of Leslie's ropers were coming towards her and Audrey refashioned herself to appear as more of a supplicant and less of an exhausted whipping girl. Leslie's lips brushed Audrey's full ones and she swallowed a soft moan.

"You're so beautiful," Leslie whispered into Audrey's neck, "Do you know that?"

Audrey swallowed hard at the rhetorical question her dry throat closing up as though sandspurs filled it, she nodded scared but vigorously. Leslie delicately trailed her fingertips up the sides of Audrey's panting ribcage creating invisible perforated lines. Audrey's anxiety oozed from her pores, ginger hair clung to her face, and agony ran down her cheeks thick with black mascara. Her naked body a garden of violet bruises and welts. Audrey's toes barely touch the cold tile and her wrists ached from the suspension, everyone always wondered where her toned abs and arms came from. Oh, if they only knew, Audrey's eyes swelled for a phantom round of tears. Leslie's hands stopped their sensual waltzing down Audrey's sides and made their way up to her heaving chest. Leslie pinched Audrey's nipples hard enough to make her yelp and her chest began to hiccup with muffled sobs. Audrey just wanted to get down.

"Next time listen," Leslie spoke between the kisses she planted around Audrey's collarbone. Audrey wordlessly agreed. Leslie let her hands fall to her sides and backed away from Audrey to admire her.

She stood with her ropers unlaced, her jeans undone, and an old flannel open exposing her mouth-sized breasts. Leslie's ponytail had fallen loose, and her long blond mane was coiled around her neck and a few strands framed her face. This was the most unkempt Audrey had ever seen her. There was a moment of pause between the two and Audrey knew Leslie was deciding right at that moment if she was going to let her go or leave her for another hour or two. Audrey's head began to to fall forward like a wilting flower as her dry lips seemed sewn together with her thick saliva.