Visiting an Old Friend Ch. 03

"What are your thoughts on straight girls?"

We're texting about threesomes. We live in different cities, so we spend a lot of time texting and chatting, and the subject often turns to sex. Especially since we started fucking a couple months ago. The last time we visited, she asked me how I felt about threesomes. Then she made me spill out my deepest, sluttiest fantasies about threesomes. Something about her just makes me want to fuck, and talk about fucking, and fantasize about fucking. I've never felt quite like this before.

"You want to fuck a straight girl?" I type back. I think about it, and shrug, deciding that I don't mind. When she's with me, her focus is single-minded. She possesses me, body and soul. I guess I don't mind who else she fucks, as long as nothing changes between us.

"No," she writes back. And then those little ellipses pop up.

I wait, and I wait, while she types.

Finally, she sends another message.

"I want to watch you fuck a straight girl."

Oh boy. Now I feel quite warm. I can imagine her smirk perfectly. "When?" I write back. We haven't seen each other in a while. Weeks. A month. The flight isn't cheap, but stealing a weekend here and there is well worth it when it comes to her.

"Come see me," she writes. Her follow-up texts come rapid-fire:

"Soon.

"I can't fucking wait any longer.

"I'm aching for you.

"Come see me.

"Come sit on my fucking face.

"Smother me."

I'm so wet now. I'm at work while she texts me, and I squirm in my desk chair. She's timezones ahead and I know she's sitting comfortably at home, probably with a drink in hand, torturing me. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I write back, "You're killing me."

"Send me a photo right now," she replies instantly.

I know exactly what she means. She doesn't want a cute selfie. "I can't," I send to her. I have a meeting starting in two minutes.

"Did it sound like a suggestion? Show me your cunt, slut."

My face must be beet red. I look around, hoping none of my coworkers can tell how turned on I am. It's incredible to me that she can do this to me from such a distance.

I gather my things and run off to the bathroom, where I pull up my skirt and start taking pictures.

I book my flight on my phone while sitting in my meeting, and on Friday night, my plane lands late in the evening. She's at the airport to pick me up this time, in a long wool coat and fingerless gloves, and when she pulls me in to kiss me when I arrive, she whispers, "I should have brought a sign to greet you with. Just 'slutty dyke' in big black letters." I flush. I wonder if I'll ever get tired of her calling me names. Probably not. "You look beautiful," she finishes, and kisses me on the cheek as she grabs my carry-on.

It's late and I've had a long day at work capped off with a long flight, so she takes me straight home. Our sex is frantic, but she only lets me come once. "Save it," she murmurs against my skin when I beg her to fuck me again. "You'll need the energy tomorrow."

Sleeping beside her, both of us naked, all night without fucking is difficult, but we manage. I'm used to every little wake-up turning into a frenzy of sexual activity, but this time she just kisses me and cuddles me back into her warmth until I fall asleep again.

When I wake up, however, it's to her grinding her pubic bone against me, and I gasp as she presses on my clit. "I couldn't do it," she grunts, and thrusts her hips into me again. "I couldn't help myself."

"Ah-ah-ah," I moan as she humps me with her hips. I'm unable to form a coherent response.

Her hands travel down my body and she grabs my hips, pulling me tighter against her, and I spread my legs and hook my knees over her shoulders. "I'll tell you what you're gonna do," she says, and her nipple grazes my aching pussy. "We're going to find some beautiful straight girl and you're going to convince her to let you take her home, and you're going to make love to her."

I'd agree to just about anything at this point, and I gasp as her tongue lashes against my clit.

She goes on: "I want you to eat her pussy, I want you to finger-fuck her."

"Mm-hmmmm," I moan. I'd jump off a bridge if she told me to, especially when she's got me in this state.

"But don't let her touch you," she says. "Only I get to touch you." She punctuates this by pushing her hand into me, her lips soft as she sucks my clit into her mouth.

I love when she's possessive. Even if it involves me fucking someone else.

I manage to gasp out, "Will you be watching?"

She smiles. "I'd better be."

That night we get dressed up and go out. I wear my hair up, a pile of dark waves on my head, artfully composed to look effortless, with earrings hanging down from my ears. As usual when I'm with her, I wear a mini skirt, this time with a backless blouse that shows off the delicate nape of my neck and the muscles to either side of my spine. She traces her finger down my back after I put it on and murmurs her approval. We're going dancing.

The club she takes me to is industrial, a hipster space where most of the patrons are five or eight years younger than us — in their early twenties. The music is pounding and bassy, the drinks strong. She settles down on a bar stool near the dance floor and watches me wade into the crowd. Her eyes never leave me.

It doesn't take me long to find the right girl. She's dancing hard with her group of friends, her blonde hair lashing from side to side as she tosses her head. She's in a little blue dress, and when I start dancing with her, she's receptive. She shares her drink with me, turning the straw toward me and holding it up to my lips, and we move together, our bodies finding the same rhythm. She shouts in my ear to ask my name.

I ask hers. "Tina," she yells. She tries to say something else but I tap my ear to show her I can't hear her. We keep dancing.

A couple songs later, we're sweaty and laughing. We get another drink, and I buy us a pair of shots. I remember when I used to kiss straight girls all the time in my college days, and I pull all the same tricks. I look into her eyes when she talks to me. I casually touch her, my hand on her waist, pulling her in as she speaks close to my ear. I glance down at her lips. I bite mine.

When I kiss her, she isn't surprised. Her eyes close and she kisses me back, her lips soft, her mouth yielding.

When I end the kiss, she breathes out, "Oh my god." I take a moment to lift my eyes and make eye contact with my lover, who watches us from down at the other end of the bar.

I stroke Tina's cheek and smile. "More dancing?"

She's a bit flushed. "Sure," she says, and I grab her hand and pull her along with me back to the dance floor.

Things have changed between us now. Tina is putty in my hands. I dance close with her, my hands on her waist, her hips. We kiss on the dance floor, just little kisses every time our faces come close together, and I pull at her lower lip with my teeth. I take it slow, romancing her, giving her a little taste of the softness of a woman. She buries her face in my neck and murmurs, "You smell so good," against my skin. She's pressed her entire body against me, her thighs, hips, breasts all crushed against mine. I have her now.

"Wanna get out of here?" I ask gently.

She nods.

"Okay. We just have to... get my roommate."

We catch an Uber and I distract Tina, my lips soft against her neck and mouth. Tina and I make out in the back seat; my lover sits in the front, next to the driver. By the time we pull up in front of her apartment building, I have Tina's bra off, and her nipples pebble hard under her dress. We go straight to the couch while my lover busies herself in the kitchen. Tina is lying on her back and I'm on top of her, my hands all over her body, and from the kitchen I hear the sounds of ice tinkling against glass.

The armchair creaks when my lover sits down in it, swirling her whiskey, and Tina looks over at her, knitting her brow.

"What's going on? Why—" She starts to ask, but I grab her chin and turn her face back to me.

"Hey," I say breathily. "Focus on me. Just me." I kiss and suck on her throat and she moans. I move slowly down her body, groping her with my hands, and I slide them up her dress to hold on to her hips. Because I know it'll turn on our silent observer, I hook my fingers into her underwear and pull them off with her skirt still on, casting a look and a little smile over my shoulder at her. Tina squirms and I move my face close to her, inhaling the scent of her arousal.

I caress her thighs as I extend my tongue and gently taste her, and she whimpers a little as I make contact. My tongue is hot on her skin. I give her a teaser, flicking gently at her clit until she moans, and then I sit her up and unzip her dress. We stand, and I pull it down over her shoulders, letting it puddle at her feet.

"I've never done this before," she says quietly. I smile and kiss her.

"Don't worry. I have." I drop to my knees in front of her and look up at her as I press my lips against her again.

I almost forget my lover is there, watching, until she says, "Take your clothes off." She swirls her glass and it tinkles; when I look at her, she has that dark half-smile.

Tina looks at her sharply, as if she really did forget someone was watching us in the dimness of the room. I stand up and pull my blouse off, over my head, and shimmy out of my skirt and underwear. I pull the bobby pins out of my hair and let it fall down my shoulders and back. She nods her approval. Then I turn back to Tina.

"Why is she —" Tina starts, but I kiss her to cut her off. She yields to me, and I push her back down onto the couch where I lay on top of her, our naked bodies touching at every point, breasts, tummies, pelvises, my thigh between hers, and I rock my hips into her as I kiss her until she's moaning again. I move down her body again, but this time she's naked, and I kiss and lick her nipples — they're round, pink, large like her soft breasts, such a contrast from my own small breasts with small pointed nipples. I run my hands down her waist and hips as I kiss her breasts. She loves it. She must have very sensitive breasts; I lavish soft, gentle attention on them in a way I doubt men ever have.

When I think she's ready, I lay down between her legs and begin to lick her.

"Uh-uh," I hear my lover scold me. "Ass up."

She's sitting behind me, and I know what she wants: an open, full view of my glistening pussy from behind. I obey, arching my back and putting my ass in the air, my thighs apart.

"Good," she says, and I hear the chair creak as if she's leaning forward. I hear her sip, ice hitting the side of the glass. I think about who I'm doing this for and my cunt drips.

Tina is squirming and moaning as I lick and tease her pussy, and I continue to take my time, making sure she's good and ready before I do anything that might be new for her.

When her moans are load and insistent, when she's bucking into me with her hips, when her hands come down to pull my head into her, I ask her: "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"What?" she says breathily.

"With my fingers," I clarify.

"Ohhhh," she moans. "Yesssss."

I slide in just one, probing inside of her gently, pressing up into her to feel her inside. When I find her g-spot I curl my fingertip against it and she squeals. "Ahhh," she moans, "do that again."

I do, a couple times.

And then I pull my fingers out. She groans, but I push back in, this time with two fingers.

"Fuck her," my lover says, her voice low. "Make her come."

I nod, even though she can't see it.

I am gentle with Tina, rocking my fingers in and out only to the middle knuckle, keeping pressure on her g-spot, feeling her pleasure build as her body tenses. This is nothing like the hard, rough way my lover fucks me, the way she slams into me until I ache. But Tina loves it. I keep my mouth on her clit, flicking it with my wet tongue, and it's not long until she's shuddering. As her pussy pulses around me, I hold my fingers deep inside of her and press hard, and she comes with her thighs clamped tight on either side of my head.

When she relaxes, she's a puddle on the couch. I get up on my knees and look down at her, sweat shining on her soft skin. I look back at my lover, who finishes her drink and gestures for me.

I get up and come to her, and she grabs my hand and pulls me down onto her lap. My wet pussy presses against her trousered leg. Tina looks at us from the couch, raising herself up onto her elbows.

"So —" she starts, and then stops. "You're not roommates."

I smile. "No, we're not roommates." I cuddle in to my lover's chest and she wraps one arm around me. With the other, she takes out her phone.

"I'll call you a cab," she says to Tina.

"Oh," Tina says softly, clearly disappointed. "I can't... stay here... with you guys?"

My lover laughs and pulls me in closer. "I have to have my way with this one now."

Tina blushes. She sits up and grabs her dress, makes to pull it on over her shoulders. Then she stops and looks at us again. Her eyes are wide, her look innocent, nonplussed. "Could I... watch?"

I feel, more than hear, my lover make a little growl in her throat, and she tenses her hands on me. I press my lips against her ear and murmur, "Let her watch."

"No," she says quietly. "What I want tonight is just for you."

Tina dresses and we send her down to wait for her cab.

The front door of the apartment clicks shut, and she, still fully clothed, takes my naked body, slim and pale, in her arms. She kisses me deeply. I unbutton her shirt and run my hands over her torso, feeling the pebbles of her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Her mouth doesn't leave mine, and my head is tilted up to meet her. I push her shirt off her shoulders, unfasten her sports bra, and reach down to open her pants, and then slide my hand into her underwear to cup her mound, her trimmed pubic hair rough against my palm. When I slip my finger into her slit, she's wet and hot, and she groans into my mouth.

I drop to my knees again, just like I did for Tina, but this time I look up at a different face. I pull her pants and underwear down with both hands while resting my cheek against her pubis. She steps out of them and is nude, her body long, vulnerable. I inhale her scent. She rests her hand gently on the back of my head, and sensing her need, I make love to her with my mouth; she leans against the closed door and I run my tongue through her folds, finding the sensitive spots that make her hitch her breath.

When I dip my tongue further down, I meet a puddle of molten sex, her juices abundant and steaming warm. I lap at her and she groans. I speak with my mouth on her, muffled, but I know the vibrations are sending shocks of pleasure through her body: "Tell me what you liked."

She understands me and replies as she tightens the grip she has on the back of my head. "I really liked watching you kiss her on the dance floor," she says, a little gutturally. "Those soft little kisses were so fucking hot." I recall them being pretty hot from my perspective, too.

"What else?" I mumble against her clit.

"When you took her panties off," she moans, "and when you kissed her in the cab — oh!" She exclaims as I slide my hand into her.

As I piston my hand into her, I chuckle. "You're so fucking perverted," I tease. "You like anything in public, don't you?"

She goes on, panting now as I fuck her. "Mmm-hmm. And — and I liked when you showed me your cunt while you fucked her, and — ohh, god — "

I return to sucking her clit into my mouth, feeling her temperature rise as her legs start to shake. I want to make her come like this. I let her keep talking.

"I fucking love telling you what to do," she moans. "Oooh. Yes. I want you — to — always — ahhhh — " she starts to lose the thread of what she's saying as she starts to come, a word slipping out every time I pull my fingers back, her verbal centre failing when I push deep into her. "Always — listen — and do — Jesus fucking Christ — whatever I tell you to — fuck — "

And then she stops speaking and slumps against the door behind her, her knees going weak, and I feel her gushing down my wrist. I hold my hand inside of her to wait out her orgasm before I pull it out. I stand and kiss her, gentle at first, and then I run my fingers — wet with her juices — over her bottom lip and slide them into her mouth.

"I promise," I whisper to her as she licks my fingers clean, "to listen and do whatever you tell me to."

"Mmm-hmm," she manages, and I pull her to bed.

It's hardly the last sex we have that evening. It's give and take, I discover. It's a game of power, but it's only fun when both parties have the kind of power they need. I like it when she spanks me and orders me around, but I also like taking care of her. I listen because I want to please her, and she commands me because she wants to please me.

Before the end of the night she's fucking me with a strap-on, hitting me in the face, and calling me a dirty slut for taking an innocent straight girl home from the bar, and I love every second of it, so there you have it.