Fireworks and Forbidden Desires
FORWARD; description of the story characters and setting
1st
Suzanne shoulder length red wet Hair. French Canadian white 32 year old from Quebec Canada Nearly six feet tall and around 150 pounds with large perky breasts. The bi sexual girlfriend of Jane’s. Dressed in a Wet Red micro mini shirt dress with the flag of Canada on it
2nd
Jane shoulder length Dirty Blonde wet Hair. Nearly six feet tall and around 150 pounds with large perky breasts. American 30 year old white girl from Ohio Nearly six feet tall and around 150 pounds with large perky breasts. Suzanne’s bi sexual girlfriend. Dressed in a Wet White micro mini shirt dress with the flag of USA on it, and proudly says American Made.
3rd
Me. Married to Jane for 5 years and Suzanne is my secret mistress Every year for the past five years we have hosted a 4th of July party till mid night. After 12 mid night everybody goes home as the fire works subdue, and Suzanne and Jane have their traditional French kissing Girl Fight. Tonight things were going to get a bit more serious, with some biting, scratching and a full blown catfight to sexfight.
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After our guests go home the three of us, myself, Jane's Husband and Suzanne watch the remaining fire works Both girls are dressed only in short wet mini dresses and stiletto high heels, no under wear at all. After our guests go home the three of us, me, Jane's Husband and Suzanne watch the remaining fireworks. Both girls are dressed in short wet mini dresses and stiletto high heels.
Jane approaches Suzanne as she looks up at the fireworks above us, and they start to hug and kiss. It’s normally just a sweet little girl-girl show for me with some hot Lesbian action on our private beach. This time however, Jane gets a suspicious look on her face while Suzanne sucks her tongue. -------------------------------------------------------
Fireworks and Forbidden Desires
The last guest's taillights faded into the night, leaving the three of us alone under the dwindling fireworks. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and the humidity of the impending storm, which had left the girls' dresses clinging to their bodies like second skins. Jane, your dirty blonde hair darkened by the damp, stood next to Suzanne, her red locks glistening under the intermittent flashes of light. Both of you were a sight to behold, American and Canadian pride personified in your wet, clingy dresses, the flags emblazoned upon them now mere whispers of their former glory. I watched from the shadows, my presence almost forgotten as the two of you faced each other, the tension palpable. The tradition was about to unfold, but this year, there was an undercurrent of something more potent than the usual playful rivalry. Jane, you stepped forward, your blue eyes meeting Suzanne's green ones with a newfound intensity.
"I've always wondered," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it cut through the silence like a knife, "how it would feel to truly fight for what we want." Suzanne's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips. "And what is it that you want to fight over, Jane?"
Your response was to close the distance between you, your lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was anything but sisterly. It was a claim, a challenge, and Suzanne accepted it with fervor. The embrace tightened, hands roaming over wet fabric, gripping, pulling, as if trying to meld the two of you into one. The kiss broke with a wet sound, and you stepped back, accusation burning in your gaze.
Suzanne stared at Jane
“What’s wrong Jane? You seem upset, all of a sudden?!” Jane glared at Suzanne. "You've been humping him, haven't you?"
Suzanne's laugh was a bitter sound against the backdrop of the fading fireworks.
"Who do you think you are? Your man has been inside me more times than I can count."
The words were a spark to tinder. You lunged, your hands becoming claws, grabbing red hair as they slapped across Suzanne's cheeks. She retaliated with a tearing of your dress, and digging claws into your blonde scalp, as you replied in kind, and then it was a frenzy of limbs and fury. I watched, transfixed, as the two of you twisted into a vertically entwined Caduceus. A Biting, scratching, slapping riot of passion. Your legs entwined, stilettos digging into the soft wet lake sand as you struggled for dominance, while maintaining a stork like precarious balance, each balancing 300 plus entwined feline pounds of hate and anger, on two left feet, trimmed by stiletto high heels.
The sound of tearing fabric filled the air, the remnants of your dresses fluttering to the ground like fallen flags. You were a tangle of wet flesh and rage, now dropping and rolling horizontally on the shore, the shallow water lapping at your bodies. Your hands were buried in each other's hair, pulling with enough force to make me wince. Bite marks and scratches blossomed across your skin, a testament to the intensity of your fight. My heart was a jackhammer in my chest, the angel on my shoulder urging me to intervene, but the devil—oh, the devil had a firmer grip. It whispered of the futility of trying to separate over 300 pounds of enraged sexiness, especially with my cock straining against my shorts, hard as steel. The catball you devolved into was a mesmerizing dance of violence and lust. You rolled and splashed, a wet top spinning out of control, your tongues tied together beneath a slurping, spitting jaw lock. The sight of you, two powerful women reduced to such primal need, was intoxicating. Time lost meaning in the throes of your battle. It could have been hours or mere minutes before the fervor began to wane, giving way to a different kind of hunger.
The catfight shifted, becoming something more carnal. You ground your clits together, the sound of your wetness mingling with the splash of the water. Your tribadism was a spectacle of raw desire, each of you seeking to dominate the other with the force of your need. The squirting was sudden and intense, your juices mingling as you both reached your peak. You broke apart, panting, your eyes locking onto my erection with a shared understanding. It was my turn to be devoured. You approached me with the same ferocity you had shown each other. Jane, you mounted me first, your cxnt swallowing my cock with a desperate need. Suzanne wasn't far behind, positioning herself above my face, her wetness dripping onto my tongue. I tasted the mixture of you both, a cocktail of desire and satisfaction. You rode me with abandon, each thrust of your hips bringing me closer to the edge. Suzanne's moans grew louder as I flicked her clit with my tongue, her orgasm triggering yours, Jane. The two of you came in waves, your bodies shuddering with the force of your release. I couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, deep thrust, I exploded inside you, Jane, filling you with my seed. The sensation of my cum inside you set off another round of orgasms, your pussy clenching around my dick as if it never wanted to let go. Spent and sated, the three of us collapsed onto the wet ground, the aftermath of our sexfight surrounding us like a moat. The storm that had been threatening finally broke, the rain washing away the evidence of our passion, but the memory of it would remain etched in my mind forever. As we lay there, the rain mingling with our sweat and cum, you, Jane,
turned to me with a wicked grin. "Happy Fourth of July, husband. I think we just redefined 'independence'." Suzanne chuckled beside us, her hand finding mine. "And I think we've started a new tradition." I looked at the two of you, my heart swelling with a mix of love and lust. "I wouldn't have it any other way." And as the rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of the night, I knew that this was just the beginning of many more nights of passion, where the line between love and war would forever be blurred.
