Iris couldn’t help but smile. “You two deserve a break.” she chimed. After last night, Iris needed time alone. She had to gather her thoughts. Even if it meant staying in bed all day, mourning the loss of something she barely even recognized. What why her chest aching, like someone had ripped a hole in it?
Iris fell silent, lost in thought, the murmur of her parents’ banter echoing around her. How she envied their relationship. They hardly ever fought, and when they did, it was so brief one wouldn’t even notice. They adored each other, and loved her just as much. She pondered if she could ever be like that with Ginger, if they could ever be that happy and comfortable.
No. Things didn’t work like that in this world of high society. It didn’t matter if you were happy. In this world, if you were different, you were scrutinized. People you considered friends, would happily drag your name through the mud if it meant they could get little bit higher on the social ladder. She doubted even her father’s sparkling reputation could survive the mudslinging that would erupt if she chose to follow her heart. How could she so selfishly ruin him? The answer was so simple, yet it stung all the same. She couldn’t.
Iris was torn from deep thought as the doorbell, with its whimsical tune echoed through the large condo. All three of them stopped and stared at each other for a long moment, confusion on their faces. “Are we expecting anyone?” Iris offered as she slid away from the table and headed towards the door.
“No…” her parents said in unison as they watched her go, then returned to their conversation about the Spa and what types of wraps they would get.
Iris peeked out of the peephole in the door and saw no one. Befuddled, she unlocked it and pulled it open slowly; she stepped out and looked up and down the street, nothing. Curiously, she scanned the rows and rows of manicured lawns on either side of them. Several high end vehicles were parked along the street, but there was no sign of anyone nearby. Odd. She thought to herself as she turned to go back inside. Her barefoot landed atop the welcome mat, instead of the prickly sensation from the woven plastic, she felt something smooth crinkle beneath her heel. Iris looked down to find a small white envelope beneath her foot. “What the…?”
She looked up again, this time suspiciously glancing down the street. Iris lifted her foot and scooped up the parcel, twirling it in her hands. She gave an involuntary chill at the sight of her name, neatly printed on the outside. No stamp. No return address. Just her name. ‘Iris’ Nimble fingers parted the sealed lip, opening it up to reveal what looked like several pictures and a note that had been painstakingly printed on an index card. ‘You will be exposed.’ Iris felt her brows furrow as she delved into the envelope, a sickening stab of mortification formed in her stomach as she flipped through the evidence. Blood rushed to her ears, she felt faint. A small ivory hand snaked out to hold onto the doorjamb, her legs threatening to give way beneath her light headed disbelief.
“Who is it?” her father called form the kitchen, forcing Iris to stuff the envelope and its contents frantically into her jean pocket. “Just a prank.” She called back to them as she slammed and locked the door behind her. She felt ill, like she was about to toss what little breakfast she had, all over the marble floor. “I...didn’t sleep well, going to lay down for a bit…” she added weakly, then bounded up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, she skidded to a halt once she reached her room and clambered for her cellphone. Curses fled her lips as she yanked her cellphone from her desk; her hands were trembling so much she could barely dial Gingers’ number.
: pearl before swine:
It was well past noon when Ginger stirred in her bed, soft cinnamon hair draped along the expanse of a satin pillow. Her matching silk sheets and cotton down comforter were twisted and tangled between her legs. With a low groan she sat up, rubbing her eyes before sliding her feet to the floor. The four poster bed creaked slightly as she pushed her way out of it, and made her way in zombie fashion to her private bathroom. There was time to stop and grimace at her reflection in the mirror before she began to splash anxiously splash water on her face. “I have to stop staying up so late...”
“Oh, you are up Miss. Sharpe” a heavy Latin accent sounded from her doorway. Maria, their maid was intruding upon her space again. To Gingers relief, she was fluent in English, a cute chubby woman, rounded along all her edges, with happy dark brown eyes. A wealth of black hair was always pulled back into a plaited braid that followed her spine.
“Barely…” Ginger groused as she came back into her room, leaning against the doorway to her bathroom in a white T-Shirt and blue boxers. She narrowed her eyes on Maria as she plucked dirty clothes from the floor and tucked them away in a large basket that was balanced against her large hip. “You don’t have to do that Maria” Ginger sighed. She was still a little upset over the events of the previous eve. Fuming on the inside, rejection hurt, no matter who it came from. The last thing she needed right now was someone invading her privacy. “I am old enough to wash my own clothes”
“You’re Father wants you downstairs Miss” Maria grinned defiantly as she continued her duties.
“Fine” She pushed a hand through her hair and was about to exit the room when she saw Maria bend over to tug her miniskirt from beneath the bed. Mortification crossed her features as the black little vibrator fell from its back pocket and landed in the middle of the floor between them.
“Oh Dios mío!” Maria cried as her plump cheeks turned to a dark red. Maria crossed herself in typical catholic fashion several times, as if warding herself from some evil.
Ginger stood there staring at her in disbelief for a long moment. “It’s a vibrator Maria, not an instrument of Satan.” She shook her head and crossed the small distance to scoop it up, before she tossed it into the drawer of her nightstand. Maria said nothing as Ginger turned and headed down the long hallway toward her father’s study. That was probably for the best, If Maria had started her usual nagging, Ginger would have been forced to regale the woman with a few stories that could possibly have had Maria crossing herself for the rest of the day.
“It’s about time.” Her Father grumbled as she entered his private office in the mansion they considered a home. He sat behind an ominous cherry wood desk, peering at her over the business section of the newspaper. The room itself was a twisted myriad of dead animals mounted on every wall, including a life sized bear in the corner, which looked to be frozen in time as it stood on its hind legs to scent the air for possible food. “Sit.”
Ginger gave a slight growl at being ordered around like a household pet, but held her tongue. She hated this room. She scanned the many bookshelves around her, filled with medical references and various display models of the female figure. Ginger swore he was some glorified version of Jack the Ripper. The reasoning behind this was simple, he got paid to slice into women with low self-esteem and used the profits from that to fund the pursuit of stuffed carcasses. “You wanted to talk?” Her voice was tense as she lowered herself into the high-backed mahogany chair in front of his desk. This could not be good news. The only time he ever wished to see her was to scream at her for some insane mistake or coerce her into things he knew she hated.
“Yes” He cleared his throat and folded the paper delicately before placing it on the desk before him. He was fat; his face was weathered, like old leather. Salt and pepper hair rounded the bald spot atop his head, flowing down into a well-trimmed mustache and chiseled beard. He had a long hawk-like nose and greasy lips that always seemed to be unnaturally moist. “I have been invited to a Charity Banquet tonight.” He paused as if Ginger was supposed to be impressed by this “Your presence is required.”
Ginger laughed outright and leaned back in the chair, a defiant flare alight in her deep blue eyes. “I respectfully decline the invitation.” Gingers’ tone was flat, unemotional. She flinched as her fathers’ fist slammed into his desk, the sound reverberating off the walls of his office.
“You will be going to this event, and you will be ci
vil, it is time you started making the right friends in the right circles.” He stared her down with his mousey brown eyes, “If you refuse, I shall freeze your spending account and have Hector put a boot on your car. You will learn to obey me. Are we clear?”
Ginger felt waves of heat cascade from her chest to her shoulders; anger flooded her soul and flushed to her face. She wanted to lose her temper, fight and scream, but that would only get her grounded or worse. She wanted to see Iris again soon. That meant she had to swallow her pride, just this once. Her words came out between gritted teeth, as she dug her fingers into the arms of the leather chair. “Obviously, I have no choice. Father”
He gave her a false smile, picking up his newspaper once again to resume his reading. “So glad we could see eye to eye.”
Ginger stared at him with disbelief. She wanted nothing more than to be able to lunge over his desk and shove that paper down is throat. Instead, she stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Bastard.” She whispered as she pulled her hands up around her, she tried to force her temper into submission. He never seemed to understand, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to go, it was how he asked. He enjoyed the pompous, you will do as I say, attitude that he had adopted so long ago. It made her wish she could just leave, run away. She wanted out so badly, but all she had was things he had given her. Things he could take away. Often, she wondered how her mother had escaped and still been able to forge a life of her own. Ginger had hated her mother for leaving without even a word, even more so, for not taking her with her. Now, Ginger understood that sometimes, it was the only choice you had.
As she drew closer to her room, she heard a familiar ringtone humming from her cell on her nightstand. Quickening her pace, Ginger dashed into the room and nearly fell over herself to answer it. “Hello my darling, I knew you couldn’t resist me forever.” her playful answer quickly died at the sound of Iris in distress.
“Not now Ginger.” Iris’s voice was tense, on the verge of tears. “We need to talk.”
“Sure.” Ginger was confused, but whatever had Iris this upset had to be important. “Let me get dressed, I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Okay.” Iris replied tensely before the call ended.
Ginger stared at the phone with an incredulous look. “She just hung up on me…”
::exposed::
“Pictures!” Iris cried, tossing the envelope into Gingers lap as she moved around to slide into the passenger seat of her car. “Of us, Ginger. Together.” Iris stared at Ginger, tears filling her eyes she knew, if anyone could come up with a plan on what to do, it was Gin.
“Calm down, it can’t be that bad.” Ginger said softly as she pulled the pictures from the envelope, her eyes narrowed at the scenes captured. Immediately she could see why Iris was losing her mind, it was indeed, that bad. “These are from last night.” They were clearly done by an amateur but the accuracy was more than enough to cause a scandal. Personally, Ginger didn’t care about ruining her father, he could rot in hell and have these pictures tattooed to the back of his eye lids. But Iris, this would destroy her, and possibly her family.
“What are we going to do Gin …” Iris began to sob, closing her hands over her face.
Ginger scrutinized the pictures a few moments longer, there was no denying who the people were or what they were doing. Every picture seemed to vividly capture the heat of the moment. The photographer had enjoyed this. “These were taken from the bushes.” she pointed to the underbrush that was in the forefront of each picture, an attempt to get Iris to focus. “Maybe a yard or two from where we were…whoever this was had been following us.”
Iris pulled her hands from her face and peered over, trying to control her sniffles. “But. Why?”
Ginger shrugged. “Let’s face it Iris, your family is the crème de la crème of South Beach, whoever this is, wants to see you, or your parents be ridiculed. They were probably trailing you to catch any sort of dirt they could, I doubt they were expecting this.”
“What do I do?” Iris gave a pitiful whine, and then curled forward, hiding her head between her knees.
Ginger reached over and ran her hand through Iris’s sable hair in a comforting manner. She stoked it gently it as she thought on the present circumstances. “Kill the asshole who took these?” Ginger offered, trying to wrench a smile from Iris, she hated to see her cry.
Iris sat up abruptly and snatched the pictures from Ginger. “This is serious, Gin. I need help.”
She sighed, her failed attempt to rouse a positive response from Iris hitting her hard. But at least, she wasn’t crying anymore. “Alright, this is the way I see it lovely. The only choice we have now is to beat them to it. They think this will be some embarrassing moment for you, they want blackmail you into being their bitch. You have to stop them.”
“How?” Iris voice came out in a hopeless wail, lost as to what Ginger was getting at.
“Confess everything. Expose yourself, before they can expose you.” Her tone was strained. She didn’t like this idea any more than Iris would, but it was the only way out. “The person taking these pictures thinks you will be cow-tailed into doing whatever they ask.”
Iris stared at Ginger blankly, then turned away as she rifled through the pictures again. “If I do that…” Iris sucked in a shuddering breath. “Then w-we will be outcasts…” she stammered.
Ginger shrugged. “We are already outcasts Ri, they just don’t know it yet.”
Iris glanced up to Ginger; the truth of her words humbled her. It was true. They had always been black sheep. Their attraction to each other, made them different. “You’re right” Iris sighed. In deep contemplation, she leaned back against her seat and stared up at the roof of the car. “It was never going to last anyway, all this secrecy. In the end, it was all going to come writhing and wriggling into the light” She paused as she fought an internal war, trying to convince herself this was the right thing to do. “At least, we can be together.”
Ginger nodded, pulling her hand along Iris’s cheek, lifting her chin so she could see into the depths of her pale green eyes “Sweetheart, this person wants something from you, and I don’t want to know what it is. You need to set yourself free, set us free.”
Iris sat there staring at Ginger for a long moment, weighing the options in her head. “It will be difficult, building a life together.”
“I know.” Ginger smiled weakly. “But you’re worth it. We are worth it.”
Iris felt her resolve grow firmer, self-empowerment taking a strong hold. “We can’t let some creeper control us.”
Ginger held back a small laugh “No. We can’t”
Iris leaned forward, to run a finger along Gingers jawline. “Because we love each other”
“Very much.” the feelings Iris’s touch pulled to the surface made Gingers voice drop into a husky purr.
“I love you Ginger” Iris said softly as she watched her hand trail down along Gingers bodice. She wore another tank top, yellow this time, with the word ‘Hottie’ bejeweled across her breasts. It cut off just above her exposed navel, tight fitting jeans running along the expanse of her long legs.
Ginger offered a slow cheshire grin. The words could not have been sweeter, coming from the lips of someone she was already madly in love with. It made her heart race; countless nights had been spent, dreaming of the day when Iris would utter those words. “You know I love you.” She teased.
Iris grinned as she sat up in her seat, taking Gingers hand in her own. “My parents are going to be gone for a few hours...come inside with me?”
Ginger leaned forward across the seat, capturing Iris’s’ lips in a long kiss. “How can I deny you, anything?” She whispered softly against the skin of Iris’s cheek.
:the calm:
The door to Iris’s room slammed shut as Ginger pressed Iris frantically against it, pulling her clothes free to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Their passion was maddening, not even air was le
ft to exist between them as they relished in the heat of their flesh pressed together.
Ginger took her sweet time with Iris, paying special attention to her breasts, running her tongue along each peak and the crest of each nipple. Hungrily, she lapped at them, finding herself rejoice as they turned to tight nubs beneath her lips. “I am going to make you mine today Iris.” Ginger whispered after pressing a trail of kisses up to the soft lobe of her ear. “I am going to make you say those words over and over again.”
Iris whimpered, pulling a leg up around Ginger to curl over her slender hips. “Yes” Iris breathed and lulled her head back against her door, fingers digging urgently into Gingers shoulders.
Ginger growled and nipped at Iris’s breasts before pulling her forward only to push her towards the bed. Masterful hands moved Iris to bend over the tall bedframe. She relished the view of Iris’s wide hips and curved ass that now hung in the air before her. She pressed herself against Iris, laying her own body along the length of Iris’s back, hands slowly following the curves of her lovers’ arms before she curled her fingers around her wrists. Her weight easily pressed Iris into the bed, Ginger pulled Iris’s hands behind her, holding them tightly against the small of her back, the other hand spread the girls’ lower lips wide, she stretched them out. “Say it…” Ginger purred “Say it and I will give you release.”
Iris moaned against the blanket pressing into her face, a wicked grin playing at her lips. She knew what Ginger wanted, but this battle of wills more enticing with each passing moment. If she wanted to claim her, she would have to work for it, and wrench the requested words from her panting lips. “Make me…”
Ginger grinned and raised a hand, bringing it down hard to slap her ivory ass. “Defiant are we?” She purred, and began to rub the spot she had just smacked. Ginger pulled her eyes from the delicious sight before her, only to grin evilly when she spied a pair of scarves that hung over the door handle. “Don’t move.” She gave the lusty command, and then crossed the room to draw to a halt by the door.
15 Erotic Stories BUNDLE: Huge Collection of Individually Sold Short Sex Stories Page 13