When She Was Good

by Tristan Taormino

  He starts at the top: bending Sun’s arm in toward her head, he holds Sun’s fingers, stiff with cum. Looks like he’s maybe gonna break them back. Then, one by one, he slides them into his mouth instead, and starts to lick each one. Huh? Placing her hands back on top of his cop car, he pats down the sides of her body, treating that suit like it’s worth a million dollars. A cop? He slides his hands, slowly, around to her tight bound breasts, but gently, like there’s some kind of respect going on, then draws his body into hers, leaning long against her back, arms still wrapped around her binding. Looks like he’s thinking of getting off.

  But on a butch? What’s happening here? I lean out further, look more closely. This isn’t a man with facial hair. I slide out of my side of the car, make my way slowly up toward them. The cop allows me to; he’s clearly gone by now, into his search…for what? Sun wonders too, of course, and turns, to see Cop’s eyes, glazed over. Hunting for his hidden world, his secret self, I grab his cop cap, pull it off, and down come waves of copper hair. Well, my. Surprise. A babe.

  This he’s a She. My she’s a He. All up on this crazy ass bridge. Some night.

  I push Cop into Sun, real hard. My body’s into Cop’s, especially down low. Cop seems to come alive, to find that hard-ass copper drive. We’re sharing, and it’s Sun’s turn to get off with that long-ass cock. The three of us are panting now, cars whizzing by. They can’t see much beyond the flashing police lights, bridge lights, starlight and that fucking juicy, full-assed moon. Just a little of us, getting off, spreading heat right out, right out, into light.

  Cop’s hot but acting like she hasn’t a clue what to do when faced with the real thing. I reach around, take her hand, slide it down into Sun’s pants, tight boxers, and along the full length of that sexy cock. Cop starts to rub, soft, gets the hang and goes on, hard. Turns out this copper’s got some style. Sun’s breathing is loud grunting; he’s gazing heavy in my eyes. He’s with me strong. We’re in it, deep. We’re in it way up to that sky that’s dark behind the stringing, singing lights of this vast stretched-out bridge.

  While she’s on him, I do my own, unbuckle Cop’s thick silver belt, let it drop, then slide her zipper down as well. She’s sweating now. I want to make her cum; to give her power up to Sun. This doll’s one bundle of surprise. She’s willing, more than willing, easy, to slide in low; her belly breathes me right down deep; her hair is soft, seems sweet. A cop? How did she make it through? But damn is she ready: pearly, slippery, dripping, silky panties glide my hand, easy as can be, right over tiny curls I imagine share the copper of her head. My fingers spread her lips so I can fondle that tender clit, rising and falling as her rhythm decides to join mine. Oh yeah, baby Cop, oh yeah, here we go.

  She’s busy, too, trying to figure out how to pull Sun’s cock out of his pants, and get it inside her. Clearly a virgin dyke. Sun’s breathing so hard, he’s totally gone, humping that cop’s hand like he’s gonna explode, not getting that Cop hasn’t a clue what to do, except trying to figure out how to handle not falling apart with being about to cum herself, my hand moving that clit so swift now she’s breathing like a teenager. Fuck—maybe she is one.

  I got it now, I take control, of two way-out-of-it queers stuck in the middle of a great big bridge over a great big sea with a great big moon fucking with everything they got.

  I reach around, slap Cop’s hands, her fricking hands, out of my way, and shove them down her own, now swollen, chick dick, to keep the rhythm going. I grab Sun’s dick—man, that dick’s huge—a giant among dicks, out of his pants, pull a rubber from my skirt, rip it with my teeth and pray the bloody thing will fit his thing. It does. I spit some polish onto it, pull the copper’s pants down low, the silken panties with them. She’s lovely copper underneath, just as I’d supposed. I turn her round and push her back, the first time I’ve ever shoved a cop. I am into this. I’m turned on, and thrust her onto her warm cop-hood; it’s ready for a good hot fuck. Then pull those uniform pants off her kick-ass boots, toss my fingers into her. No way to resist that cop’s pussy naked on her machine.

  Sun’s right here, dick so high, so hard, he’s clearly gonna pop if he doesn’t get inside that copper’s pussy. I wouldn’t stand between that urgency, not after what he’s given me. I pull out, and in he goes. Slow at first, letting her get used to him, then fuck-ass hard. Cop, wow, she hollers, and just as suddenly, she moans. No doubt it’s her first time being butched. Lucky her, to have Sun break her in, and bring her out. Doesn’t get much better. And, cool. Right here, with us. We’re now a sudden secret sexy team, a sudden secret sexy us. It’s cool.

  Sun’s driving her, Cop on her car; he’s pumping it. Up and down and all around. Cop’s clearly into it. All she’s saying now is “Mmmmm,” or “Yeah,” or “More, please, more,” or “Aaaaaahhhhhh,” or “Oooooohhhhh.” She’s one damn polite cop fuck.

  The cars blaze by. A couple cars, they’re in the know; they slow. They watch. Uh-huh. They see. They see, and now they’re humping fast in their own cars, whipping out whatever stuff they’ve got: their toys, their gear, their fists, mouths, sticks and whips. On their way to their own play. Lucky to cross this bridge tonight.

  I’m hungry. I want him too. Not Cop. Well, maybe Cop, but I want Sun. I need him now. I got my stuff, right here with me. I reach into my girly skirt, grab another see-through wrap, and some slick-dick lube; stretch my sexy self along his suited side; nibble on his dark, shell ear, and whisper, “Can I rub your butt, slap your ass, slide inside your tender hole? I promise to be true.”

  Sun’s so gone, mesmerized by his thick dick in that soft copper pussy, he isn’t thinking much about his butt, or me. He turns his face; he looks at me, remembers me, grabs me with his mouth to suck my face, my lips, my brow, and looks down at my tits. I lift one up, pull back my bra, and press it in his mouth. God, how much I’ve wanted it inside, ever since we drove onto this smoothly swinging bridge.

  Sun sucks. He bites. He licks it light; he licks delight. And all the while pumping copper pussy. This He is Herculean. For the second time this mighty night, I cum, then cum. His eyes light up: a tit-clit dyke. And yeah, he wants me inside that hole of his. My butch.

  He turns back to Cop, who’s groaning now for Sun to take her life away, right now. Sun’s moving different now, slowing it all down and deep. Cop’s cumming; that’s sure. Now it’s all, “FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!” and “SSSSSUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!” Sweet girl transformed to dyke. Sun surely has just saved her life, in this one night.

  I snap my wrap on my fuck finger, bite open my smoothest lube and slip my hand right down his shorts. I feel him whisper to himself, to me. I hear the sound I knew I would. I know it well. Hurt and desire: both. While Sun gentles into Cop’s post-cumming melt, right on her hood, I rub my hand just light at first, all over Sun’s big butt. He starts to roll, he starts to groan, he starts to have faith in me. He gazes back, and fills my eyes. “You got my heart, baby,” he moans, ’cuz I’m right here, real close, about to get closer.

  Sun pulls out of Cop, leans over her, unbuttons her uniform shirt. I hear Cop suck in breath as Sun starts to lick, so I lean over to see. Cop’s got some fucking big breasts. Her eyes are closed; her breath’s coming all strong again, and so is Sun’s. He’s licking, but he’s thinking, he’s feeling, he’s breathing: ass. Hole. But you’re not getting it, baby, not yet, not ’til I’m ready. And I’m not ready. I’m into this big ass of yours. Into it enough to pull down these sharp wool trousers of yours. Into it enough to pull down these black, tight-ass boxers of yours. Pull them down just enough to see your strap, just enough to see your hot double-moon ass, right under the tails of your fine, black-ass jacket.

  Rubbing is heading right into slapping, right into licking, right into whacking, and kissing. I’m settling at your butt-hole, baby, for the gentlest of tender strokes. Looks like you’ve caught on fire, baby. I’m rubbing; you’re groaning; you’re pushing back on me. You want me in. No way, baby. No way. Not yet. I know you
can handle it with me at the wheel, baby. You drove us already tonight; it’s my turn now.

  This night was growing long. The bridge was way more empty. Fewer people heading out to the beach to make out. Fewer people heading back into the city to do it in someone’s bed. It was starting to feel like it was just us way up here, flying high. Just us and a couple of random cars, too much in their own trip now to get what was going on under our bright, spinning lights.

  There was just this one car, some kinda sedan, that had decided to stop, totally stop, and hang: two dykes in their car, checking us out. There they were, poised on the thin inner meridian, close enough to take in what was going on, far enough to do their own fucking in private. I looked up at Car, giving Sun more time to want me moving down and in while I teased that sexy butt of his. I could see a sweet Honey ass in some pretty pink lace panties, big breasts hanging low, falling out of matching pink lace cups, clearly making someone I couldn’t catch real happy. Mmmmm. A moment later some high-class wool pants, pulled down far enough to see a black strap tight over a deep Chocolate butt, come up. They’d sure brought the right size car. Was this their second, third or fourth time round tonight?

  The two of them, the three of us: clearly Dyke Night now on the Coronado Bay Bridge.

  Sun’s so ready now he’s practically shoving his ass onto my hand, my arm. His groaning is loud enough that Honey and Chocolate have looked up at me: am I fucking with this butch? Sun’s taking it out on Cop, as well, and she’s liking it, kicking her hips up and down so hard that hood of hers has gotta be denting. I guess those tits of hers are driving her wild. Sounds like she’s cumming. Again. Can’t keep track, but I’m sure it’s a record for her.

  Okay, Sun, here we go, baby. I slide right down over your hole, circling like you’re my golden crown. And baby do you grow quiet and still. The pause. Like the bridge, the wind, the midnight doves, the shooting stars all decided to inhale and wait, for you. I hold still too, my finger pressing and waiting right at your gate. The shift comes. You open, so far, I slip one finger easily in. Oh man, I forgot. No matter how many asses I’ve been in, I never remember this moment. You are damn sweet inside, you big tender butch. All soft and smooth and nothing but sugar. But wow do you go, no damn pause anymore. You’re pumping on me like heat, like fire, like there’s never going to be tomorrow. You need way more than I’ve given you yet.

  I’ve gotta work fast. No one-finger covers are gonna do this right; you’re clearly a full-fisted job. My left hand pulls a purple glove out of my pocket, dangles it from my mouth, while my right finger fucks your butt, your heart, your everything. I grab the lube, squeezing it over those dangling purple fingers, as well as down my clothes. Anything for you. I dip my face down low, to lick your back, while I change gear, then press two, and quickly three, fingers into you. Wow, baby, are you full. And wanting it. You’re licking Cop, down to her twat. She’s grabbing cock; she needs more now, and so do you. I move from three to four. Your cock’s in her, my cock’s in you.

  I glance back to that Honey-Chocolate car, to see if they approve of what I’m up to. Clearly I’m off the hook, ’cause that car’s rocking now. Someone in there’s cumming, loud. It’s Chocolate’s ass that’s up and pounding, so Honey’s surely ejecting herself right off this planet. And from the sound of it, she’s gonna make her way to Mars.

  Cop, Sun and me, we’re rocking, we’re socking, we’ve got it in sync. You’re pumping Cop and I’m pumping you; our rhythm is hot. Our bodies are sweating it out; we’re setting it up; we’re wanting it now: all Cum.

  I’m looking down, right into your butt. And I’m looking up, right into the stars and the lights and the moon. It’s all right together; it’s shooting us out: your butt and Cop’s heart and my mind and the moon and her cunt and my heart and the stars and your heart and the lights and those strangers just over the lines, that aren’t really lines.

  Then POW comes the wave and FUCK is it high: a twister, a quaker, a hip-hopping TSUNAMI.

  Sun’s cumming, Cop’s cumming, Chocolate-Honey’s cumming, every single fucking star’s cumming, every single fucking light on the multi-thousand-foot strands of the bridge’s cumming, the moon for sure is cumming, and if I don’t cum within the next twenty seconds, I’m going to throw myself off this damn bridge, into the frigid waters of the salt-laden Pacific Ocean, to die.

  Of course, Sun gets this, and turns around. Cop and Chocolate-Honey seem to get it too, because Cop sits up, moves off her hood, Chocolate-Honey slide out of their slick sedan and head across the lunar lanes. Suddenly they have rope, lube, gloves, cuffs, belts; everything except blindfolds, because they’re gonna let me see the stars, the swaying lights, the moon that never changes course tonight. And them.

  They strap me to the bridge, arms spread, legs wide, wind up between my legs, my thighs. They rip off my skirt, my soaked panties beneath, my thin little blouse and my bra just below. I’m naked right here on the Coronado Bay Bridge. It’s me and the seagulls, the doves flying by.

  The moon that seems bigger, that’s filling my heart.

  Then these dykes take their turns. They hold and caress me. They sing me love songs. They strap on fresh dildos, don black leather vests, frilly gold panties, with matching gold bras. They start rubbing my titties ’til they’re rising, real tight; start licking and sucking, real gentle and tough. ’Til I’m crying and laughing and moaning and groaning. They’re caressing my belly, ooh baby, that’s nice. They’re stroking my hair, all of it, and it’s good. They’re saying my name, over and over. They’re stroking my feet, and sucking my toes.

  Songs are coming, and they’re going. The stars are sharp; they fill the sky; they fill my eyes. Oh yeah. They’re really singing now. My name. My love. Their love for me. It’s good. The bridge is holding me. The wind is strong. It’s blowing all of us, into each other’s arms. Sun’s right here, right in my face. He’s kissing me, right on my lips, so light, so hard, so everything. Right now, just now, all the slapping I could want, over my entire body, starts. My hands, my feet, my tits, my thighs. And in they go, my holes get filled, and pumped, and I want more. Sun’s kissing me, real light. And calling out my name. The singing is so loud by now, up to the stars. It’s all I want. I’m filled, I’m fed, I’m held, I’m slapped, I’m loved, I’m high, I’m bright, I’m dark, I’m gone, I’m here, I’m swelled, I’m wet, I’m hot, I am, I’m not.

  And I am fucking cumming.

  Cumming into everything. Cumming into Sun and Cop,

  Chocolate-Honey, Moon and Stars, Light and Me. And Not-Me.

  Cumming, and cumming. Cumming, and cumming, and cumming.

  Now we’re all laughing,

  and I’m crying.

  We’re all laughing,

  and I’m crying.

  We’re all laughing,

  and I’m crying.

  Way up on the bridge.

  Way up high on the bridge.

  Way fucking up high on the Coronado Bay Bridge.

  SPOONBRIDGE AND CHERRY

  Catherine Lundoff

  I’d say that I’d never had sex for money but that would mean forgetting about last winter. But that wasn’t about the money, not really. It was about her. Or maybe them. I think.

  I was broke, down to my last dime with no job leads on the horizon. It was my own damn fault for a change. I knew the manager at Carol’s Coffee was going to fire me and I just didn’t bother finding something else to jump to and scrambling for it before the axe fell. Sometimes you gotta play the hand you’re dealt. This time I had bad cards and a worse strategy.

  It still might have been okay if Michelle hadn’t dumped me and kicked me out that same week but they say these things come in threes. I’d say meeting them in the bar a few days later was the third thing; but if I hadn’t met them then none of it ever would have happened. That would’ve really sucked, at least looking back on it all now.

  That night I was out drinking with my remaining friends, the ones who’d stand you a cheap beer
when you were out of work. We were at some dive up in the Northeast, but since it was Minneapolis, none of us could ever really say what it was “northeast” of. Not that it mattered.

  What did matter was that it was the hellish midwinter freeze that we get up here, long about February or so. I was killing time before I had to hike the ice-covered blocks back to Kelly’s place, where I was crashing on the sofa. I was also hoping to find someone to replace Michelle, which meant I was leaning up against the bar looking as butch and broody as I was capable of in hopes that somebody would buy it.

  But the woman who showed up wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. For one thing she was older, like old enough to be my grandma kind of old. For another, she didn’t look right. Even in the flickering neon, her blues eyes had that junkie stare going on, the kind where they look right through you and never blink. She was dressed nice though. Good watch, good shoes, so she must’ve had some cash, at least before she got hooked on whatever it was.

  Just then those eyes were fixed on me and I was trying not to back away. Finally she said, “Hello,” in the most normal voice in the world. I nodded, then turned back to watch the pool game while the space between my shoulders got all prickly. She kept talking like she knew I wasn’t ignoring her. “I’m looking for someone to do something for me. Something I’m willing to pay for. And I overheard you saying that you were out of work.”

  I whipped around to stare down at her, my mood bouncing between seriously creeped out and crazy pissed off. She smiled then, a thin-lipped, twisted scary smile that didn’t make anything look any better to me. Pissed off won. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are—”