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Double Grades

Page 85

by Kristine Robinson


  Fuck. I haven't even recovered from the first orgasm...

  That doesn't matter to them. They're living up to Jaimie's promise of multiple orgasms, and my body is pushed to the limits of what it can endure. Sweet, blissful limits, and with everything they're doing to me, I sincerely doubt I'll be able to count to ten after a thousand or so more orgasms.

  I think for a brief moment that this wouldn't be such a bad way to die, either. After all, didn't someone say once that you find what you love and let it kill you?

  It makes sense. Perfect, clear sense in this moment. I love them. I love them.

  By the fourth orgasm, my mind winks itself out of existence for a moment from pleasure overload. When I wake up, I see that both women are staring at me with rather smug expressions on their annoyingly beautiful faces. I lie on the bed in a complete daze, happy beyond measure at what had just happened between us. Jaimie lies on my left side, idly stroking my hair. Her stormy dark eyes are calm now, admiring me as she continues touching. Leona is on my right, her hair a mess, her eyes vibrant, like a supernatural creature, possibly a succubus.

  “That has to be the weirdest thing I've ever done,” Leona says. “Though I'm not complaining, either. That went... better than I thought.”

  “Ditto,” Jaimie adds. The sisters chuckle, and something like affection glimmers in the gazes they exchange.

  I laugh weakly, still boneless from my bout of orgasms. My body is so numb, I know I won't be moving properly for a few hours. Or a few days. “I think it worked out fine.”

  Jaimie kisses me on the ear. “You would. Yo, Leona. I think we should talk. If we're gonna give this a serious try, it might be best to sort out exactly what happened after you left.”

  “Hm.” Leona examines her sister. “I suppose you want to know my reasoning for what I did.”

  “Yeah,” I chime, even as Jaimie nods her consent. The thought that the sisters are using me as a bonding point, rather than a dividing point, swells me with happiness.

  “I know now it was a terrible idea. My reasoning at the time was that I didn't think I could be there for Lola as a girlfriend. I didn't know how long I would be, I didn't know if it would change me to see the things I did, and it didn't seem fair to keep her waiting on the side. I honestly thought it was the best idea at the time – though my heart hated me for it.” Leona lets out a little sigh, and there's an echo of her torment in it. “A part of me hoped she would wait. It doesn't really surprise me that you two got together, though. It angered me. Didn't surprise me. We're like fire and ice.”

  Leona's comparison to her sister strikes a chord inside me. Leona is the river. She is there, bathing me in her presence, her love, her warmth. Jaimie is the flame, and she consumes me, devours me with her touch and passion. I am caught between these two personalities, these two glorious individuals, and I think how lucky I am to have met them in my lifetime.

  “I'd rather share Lola than not have her at all.”

  “Yeah, well,” Jaimie says, eyes narrowing and her lip jutting out in a slight pout, “I ain't giving her up, so you'll have to deal.”

  “Did you love her, before me?” Leona asks, her ice eyes boring into Jaimie's walls. The question is loaded with tension, but Jaimie doesn't take the bait. In fact, she's the perfect image of calm. Jaimie smiles as she continues caressing my ear.

  “Honestly? No. Liked her well enough, but when you left, she was a real mess. Figured I could do my part and help pick up the pieces. Heart had other ideas. She probably intended to use me against you at first.”

  The faint flush of shame goes through me. Had she been aware of that from the start? Did she see past my lies? Or did she have an ulterior motive of her own? You would have to, I think – to accept someone with a divided heart.

  “I didn't care though, because I was falling hard and fast. And I could see it in her the surprise – she didn't expect to like me that much. So, guess you can say we all fucked up in this.”

  “Hell, yes,” Leona sighs, now burrowing her face into my neck. “This is a mess.”

  We all lie there silently for a bit. I process their words, dragging myself out of the shame. By Jaimie's admission, she had known the dark secret my heart contained. By mine, I knew my additional motive for hooking up with the woman who helped scooped up the broken shards, left in the aftermath of her sister's departure.

  I also knew that, inexplicably, all the empty places in my heart are filled from having them here in my arms, together with me. It's odd, because in all the dreams about my future, I never imagined sharing my house and home with more than one person. But, with these two sisters on either side of me, I contemplate the idea of going for the full Bohemian lifestyle, and the more I toy with it, the more it appeals.

  I have no idea what's in store, or if this can work long term. I do know that I desperately want them both, and that they don't want me to go.

  Perhaps, if we follow our hearts and the love that's inside, things will have a way of working themselves out.

  Maybe we really can share our futures together. The thought warms me, and I close my eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

  They belong to me, and I to them.

  Menage a Trois

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A Lesbian Menage Romance

  Sonya Franco never thought she would become a call girl. She stumbled upon the profession really. It was one of those fluke things that seemed almost too good to be true at the time. Luckily it was something that she quickly picked up.

  But, every job has its disadvantages. For her things can get a bit dangerous. When you are faced with trying to do your job and trying to hide for your safety you don’t make much money. Luckily she seems to have someone watching over her.

  A new contract with brand new clients is just the thing for her. Are these clients going to end up like the John before or will she finally find her place? Sonya wants to find out. She wants to take the chance. It can’t be worse than her current situation, can it?

  * * *

  Sonya Franco never thought she would become a call girl. She stumbled upon the profession really. It was one of those fluke things that seemed almost too good to be true at the time. Luckily it was something that she quickly picked up.

  But, every job has its disadvantages. For her things can get a bit dangerous. When you are faced with trying to do your job and trying to hide for your safety you don’t make much money. Luckily she seems to have someone watching over her.

  A new contract with brand new clients is just the thing for her. Are these clients going to end up like the John before or will she finally find her place? Sonya wants to find out. She wants to take the chance. It can’t be worse than her current situation, can it?

  Growing up was not always easy for me in the Big Apple. As a kid I had braces and the big coke bottle glasses. I was teased for my pigtails constantly and once puberty hit, well that was a whole slew of new nicknames. I would come home crying to Mama and she would just tell me to suck it up because I was going to blossom into a gorgeous flower. The other kids have already bloomed which means they will be withering while I shine. Mama always knew how to make me smile.

  Once I hit high school my boobs popped, I got my waist, and my body definitely blossomed. I became one of the pretty, popular girls. Of course that didn’t stop the teasing, it just changed. I went from “nerd” to “slut”. I listened to Mama and I didn’t let it get me down. In fact I embraced it.

  Out of high school I decided to take time off and make some money before getting into college. I tried retail but that was not for me. Neither was fast food, waitressing, or babysitting. It took a little while for me to find my niche but I found it in the most unlikely of places.

  I was out with some friends for a bachelorette party and for some reason they all wanted to go to a strip club. We didn’t go to a club with hunky men in banana-hammocks. We went to a fully nude titty bar where the girls let their thongs and tassels fly. Really it was a fun night.
r />   The bride had a lovely woman giving her a lap dance. The dancer had nothing but a pink G-string that everyone was shoving one dollar bills into. She had her gigantic breasts shoved right against the bride’s face and shimmied them around. I think the bride copped a feel even though she wasn’t supposed to.

  One of the bartenders took a liking to me and we started talking about jobs. She brought up how some of the dancers make a little extra money on the side. I asked her how because now I was curious.

  She told me that she ran a brothel on the side that most of the girls worked out of. Some of them worked as the baseline prostitutes, some were professional submissives and professional dominants, while others made their money as high end escorts and call girls. I asked her about the various positions, no pun intended, and she asked me how interested I was.

  I looked at my friends then back at her with as much of a serious face as I could muster, having already had at least four drinks by that time. She laughed and explained it all to me. That was my last day in the general work force. I immediately started working for her and honestly I couldn’t be happier.

  Sure, we get the odd John every now and then but nothing we can’t handle. At least that is what I originally thought. I took a John that was looking for a submissive. I thought it would be a usual day, get spanked a bit, have an orgasm or two denied. No, not this John.

  We negotiated terms and started the scene. He had me on my knees with his cock in my mouth. I did what I was taught and bobbed my head over his shaft. He seemed to like it so I kept going. Then he pulled my hair and I faked a moan. Then his yanking got a bit hard. He pulled me up and tossed me on the bed.

  Without wasting any time he handcuffed me to the bed frame, put a ball gag in my mouth, and tied a silk scarf around my eyes. This was not in the negotiations. I tried to scream but the rubber ball in my mouth prevented it. I heard him flicking a lighter then I heard the flame crackle on the wick of a candle.

  I’m not quite sure what happened next. All I know is the Madam came bursting through the doors, freed me, and had two of the guards holding the John. I managed to get a quick look at a ring on his finger that he was heating with the flame to brand me. That was the beginning of it.

  I started getting letters and flowers and all sorts of cheap knick-knacks sent to me at the brothel. I asked the Madam for help and she put me up in a hotel nearby. The gifts started coming there. Another hotel farther away, but they kept coming.

  Seeing just how desperate I was the Madam offered me a job that she normally reserves for the more experienced girls. She told me that I could take a long contract to be a live-in girl for a well-off person by the name of Hawthorne. I had heard the name before but couldn’t place it. I took the job since it was farther upstate and at least a three hours drive out of the city.

  She helped me get my things together and sent me on my way to a bus station where I was to wait for Hawthorne’s driver to pick me up. I only had to wait at the station for about an hour before a lovely black BMW pulled up. A man dressed in a tailcoat and white gloves gets out of the car and approaches me.

  “Sonya Franco?”

  I nod.

  “The Lady Hawthorne is waiting for you. Allow me to drive you.”

  I am utterly speechless as he grabs my luggage, loads the car, then he proceeds to hold the back door open for me. I get in the car and then it hits me. Lady Hawthorne. I never thought that a woman would hold the contract.

  I try to stay awake in the back seat but to no avail. Once the car reaches the bumpy dirt roads I wake up. The driver informs me that we still have a little ways to go before we reach the estate. I nod, forgetting that he likely isn’t paying attention to me.

  After about twenty minutes the car stops and out the window I see a grand mansion. The driveway it paved with large grey flagstones. The house itself has lovely white walls and stone steps up to the doorway. There are large windows with large curtains drawn shut. Large, pruned rose bushes line the walkway and the front underneath the windows.

  It looks absolutely extravagant. The driver opens the door for me and I step out, completely flabbergasted by the view. He grabs my luggage out of the trunk and walks me up to the front door. It opens and there stands a lovely woman barely older than myself with flowing brunette hair and chocolaty eyes. I can’t help but notice her amazing bosom only barely covered by a purple bikini top.

  She pulls the white sarong around her waist tight before opening her arms to hug me. “You must Miss Sonya Franco!”

  I nod as she hugs me and kisses each of my cheeks. Her breasts are pressed right up against me, I can’t help but blush.

  She orders the driver to take my luggage into the house then turns back to me. She steps back with a smile and looks me up and down. “I’m Angeline. You’ve traveled a while. Come in and have a drink.”

  I follow her inside and the foyer is just as grand with a large staircase and polished wood floors. She leads me past a spacious dining room with china cabinets and a grand wooden dining table with at least a dozen matching chairs. We get to the kitchen with polished marble countertops and a large island in the center. She leans up against the island for a moment then opens a cabinet and takes out three crystal glasses.

  She sets them down on the island so gracefully. She opens another cabinet that seems to like a mini wine cellar and looks through the bottles before choosing a white wine. She uncorks the bottle and pours out all three glasses. She offers one to me and I take it, unsure what else I should do.

  I sip from my glass and look around the room like a starry eyed child. She watches me, clearly amused.

  “Thank you for bringing me here, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

  She laughs. “Oh my dear, I’m not Lady Hawthorne. I’m Angeline Morton, a close personal friend. You’d best to remember that the proper title is Lady, not Mrs. or Ms.”

  “Oh, I beg your pardon.”

  A few awkwardly silent minutes later a tall, toned woman with ebony skin joins us in the kitchen. She has on a white tank top and skin tight dark blue jeans with knee high black leather boots. Her heels click on the floor as she approaches. She runs her hand over her shaved head before taking the third glass of wine and taking a sip.

  “You must be Sonya.”

  I nod. “Pleasure to meet you, Lady Hawthorne.”

  She smiles at me. “Did you get a chance to read the contract on your way here?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, no.”

  “You will stay here in this house for the duration of your contract. You agreed to a one year term. During that time you will be in service to me and Angeline. Any extra services that we require of you will of course be compensated for.

  You will be given your own room here in the house. At the end of each week you will receive a stipend as per the agreement. The money you receive is yours of course. Now, allow me to show you the house.”

  I follow her as does Angeline. She first leads us past the kitchen to the first bathroom and the laundry room where she explains that I will be required to keep up on laundry. Then back out across the foyer into the parlor and attached living room, with another bathroom. She explains that guests are usually entertained here and I may need to clean it on occasion.

  We head up the stairs and to the left, above the kitchen, where there is yet another bathroom, a study, and a bedroom she deems as mine. We then go to the right where she shows me her room and Angeline’s room. Between their rooms is a closed door which I ask about. She just tells me I’ll see it later.

  She leads us outside into the yard where there is a large, luxurious swimming pool. Extending back beyond that are vast, green orchards of various kinds of apples. She tells me that the groundskeeper keeps the orchard and that I won’t have anything to do with it much. We go back inside to the kitchen.

  “Do you have any questions about your stay here?” Lady Hawthorne asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Good. Dinner will be served in your room for the evening. You may e
xplore what I have shown you of the house as you see fit. I expect you up and at breakfast in the morning.”

  I go up to the room deemed mine and my luggage is already there an unpacked. My room is amazing. There is a large, four-posted bed with a plush comforter and large pillows. I jump on it and bounce a few times. A giggle escapes my ear to ear smile.

  Eventually dinner comes up and I can’t believe it. I am served a small salad, a glass of red wine, and a tender steak on a large platter by a servant. I ask them about their time here and they just smile at me. I don’t get anything more than that. I thank them for my meal and eat in peace.

  The rest of the night is perfectly calm. I flip through the channels on the television sitting in my room on top of a long dresser. I feel like I’m staying in a five-star hotel. The bed is amazingly comfortable and it doesn’t take very long for me to fall asleep.

  ***

  I wake up fully refreshed to the smell of coffee and bacon. I rush downstairs and into the kitchen where Lady Hawthorne and Angeline are waiting for me. I sit down on a tall stool by the island. Angeline is sitting on the island counter draped in a white silk robe sipping a mimosa. Lady Hawthorne is sitting on a stool at the other end drinking coffee.

  They have plates in front of them with crispy bacon, sliced fruit, toast, and eggs. Angeline points to the stove where the pans are with food ready to be served. I take the hint and grab a plate before sitting back on the stool.

 

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