"SHE HAS A POINT, VANESSA"
As Vanessa and I stand yelling at each other, Lesley steps forward. Lesley has put her clothes back on and fixed her hair, and the unpresentable, nude status of the other 3 women in the room (Vanessa, Heather, me) becomes suddenly apparent. All 3 of us have our hair a toussled wreck, our flesh soaked in sweat, our makeup a distant memory. Lesley stands alone, a youthful, statuesque marvel. And smelling spectacular. We stand around her, hanging on her every word.
"Trudy has a point, Vanessa. She can clearly make you cum at will. Like Niagara Falls. But I don't see you making her cum much. What's the deal?"
" I.....well....i...." stutters Vanessa, clearly stung.
I marvel at how Lesley has taken control of the situation. In fact, I melt.
I think back to when my first marriage was ending, and an office romance with a woman I worked with was budding. We were at an office picnic, and she said, "I'm glad you're here." "Well, ya, you knew I'd be he.....ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh." We left the picnic as soon as convention would permit and went to her apartment, tearing our clothes off.
Now Lesley has me in the palm of her hand like that woman did when I was young, a quarter century ago.
That's the only explanation I have for what happened next.
With Vanessa, Heather, and I all tongue-tied--granted, for very, very different reasons--Lesley fills the void. "Vanessa, make Trudy cum."
My mind hears, "Siri, make Trudy cum," or "Alexa, make Trudy cum," humor distracting me from the fact that my posted hated enemy and I are about to hook up. With the object of our affection watching us, to see who enjoys it more.
I'm of two minds as to my approach. If I go limp noodle, I won't get aroused at all, but it won't arouse Vanessa, either. If, on the other hand, I strut my stuff, bring my A-game, I'll no doubt send Vanessa over the edge in ecstasy. But I might join her there. And That's not a place I ever want to be with anyone except Lesley. Especially with Lesley watching.
Before I've even settled into a strategy, Vanessa approaches me, arms open, tongue unsteathed, seeking my mouth.
We kiss. Ok, That's an unstatement. We inhale each other. Pulling hair, but not catfight style. We're not tearing it out, We're feeling each other up.
I remember the first fight Vanessa and I had, almost a full year ago now. Her teeth were inside my mouth. Later that night, I felt scratches on my gums. How did she do that, I wondered at the time. She's doing it again, and I still can't figure out how, still can't make the geometry work.
We go to our knees, gently, not in a fighting pose, and then to the floor. I mount Vanessa, our mouths not losing contact, a our hands still hungrily caressing each other's hair and scalps. I begin sucking Vanessa's tongue like It's a cock.
Vanessa's body constricts in its familiar aroused tensing. But this time is different. She's letting go, letting me lead. SHE never has before.
My left hand reaches down and penetrates her, sliding in easily. Her moaning builds and builds, and I sense She's way beyond the point of no return. But I keep my mouth sealed on her, letting her lack of air intensify her arousal. Lesley's hand is inside her own pants, obviously enjoying the view, the sounds.
Vanessa explodes in screams.
And so does Lesley.
"NO, NO, NO, Vanessa!!!!" Lesley shouts, taking the air out of the moment, and startling all of us. Taken aback, Lesley continues, "Not you, Trudy, you're fine. It's YOU, Vanessa. I thought I told YOU to make Trudy cum. What don't you understand?
?"
Vanessa, angered at having her pleasure interrupted, turns and walks to Heather. "Ok, you want to see Trudy cum, bitch??? You want to???"
Lesley: "I do."
Vanessa: " Well, watch this neat trick. Heather. Kick the living shit out of Lesley."
To be continued.....
