by C. L. Black
“Don’t let go.” Vicki kicked off her skyscraper stilettos and scrunched up her knees beside Catherine. She moved in. “That’s a nice scent.” Her short dress morphed from cocktail to cocktease.
Catherine turned away, toward the glass door. It was telling. “Yeah, I like the view in here too.” The darkness outside made the glass a perfect mirror, providing a clear shot of Vicki’s trim young form. Nice boobs. Her custom-fitted corset ensured their presentation remained appealing from every angle. She pulled Vicki closer. Yeah, real nice. Her hemline rode up so far as to be useless. Catherine could see stocking tops, garter straps, and most of Vicki’s silky little red cheeky panties. Fuck me! My hand is on her ass. Sweet. This chick is fricken hot for you. Maybe spending the summer with Grandma won’t be as boring as I thought. Do her! And don’t blow it this time.
“Don’t you want to kiss me, babe? Hey, you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure.” Fuck me.
Vicki’s heated breath closed in for the kill.
She’s gonna do me.
Vicki’s eager lips pressed.
Catherine’s lips parted for the soft but persistent tongue. Impressed by Vicki’s boldness, she offered no resistance as the warm wet tongue probed her again and again. Their passionate kissing and caressing continued for several minutes, causing her arousal to escalate out of control. MK was ready to take the lead. Go for it. She reached around and unzipped Vicki.
“No! Stop! We don’t have enough time. My mom.”
“What?” Okay. Catherine pulled the instigator onto her lap, turning her face up. Both hands covered Vicki’s partially exposed breasts, caressing them forcefully.
“Oh, yeah, that’s good. Take me. Touch me. Please,” begged Vicki, her head tilted back. Her back arched. “Take me!”
She fricken wants it. Catherine pushed on. Exploring Vicki’s beautiful soft parts, somehow adhering to the we-can’t-get-undressed rule. She skillfully plied each breast from its elegant confinement. She grew hotter and more aggressive with each shared breath. Her pinching became more intense.
“Ouch! That hurts.” Vicki pushed Catherine’s hands away.
Her eyes opened. “What? I thought you liked it.”
“Why don’t you focus further south, babe?”
Catherine’s right hand slid timidly down, toward, Vicki’s silk. Before reaching its final destination, it paused at the dress’s raised hemline. The hand strolled along the edge, teasing. “More?” Do her, now!
“Please, Catherine! Don’t torture me any longer. Touch me, please, touch me.”
The right edged closer and closer. It reached those pretty little silky soft panties. It stilled. Catherine whispered into Vicki’s ear, “Tell me what you want, my little princess?” The hand gently brushed between the parted thighs. “Tell her now!”
Vicki was quivering with anticipation. Not awaiting another steamy breath, she thrust herself to meet Catherine’s all-too-timid fingers. She struggled against her own arousal to get the words out. “I want… Make me… Just do me… Please.”
Catherine’s hand slipped inside Vicki’s damp panties with just enough pressure to tease her aroused clit. Yeah. I got this one.
“Yes! Do it. Do it harder!” Not waiting, Vicki rubbed herself against Catherine’s hand. “Please.”
“My, my! You’re a very wet naughty girl, aren’t you?” She continued to stir the simmering orgasm. “What else do you want? Tell me? You want a spanking. Don’t you!”
“Yeah. Ah. Yeah, touch me, harder, harder. Please? Yes that’s it— Oh…Oh!”
The pressure to come increased with each stroke. “Don’t you?”
“Yes! Yeah, yes. Oh…that’s it. Don’t stop!”
Catherine maintained a slow steady deliberate pace, each time slightly increasing the pressure. This wasn’t Lipsticky Vicki’s first rodeo. All too soon, for one of them at least, the stroking proved too intense.
Vicki stiffened. Overwhelmed by the incoming tide of undeniable joy, she let out a series of increasingly louder moans. Her body shuttered. She squeezed her pubococcygeus tight. It was no use. She couldn’t stop. The powerful orgasm sent waves of pleasure pulsing through her being. She held the surprisingly skilled hand tight to her disloyal clit until the tremors subsided.
Vicki had climaxed in record time. Amazingly, she was still charged with desire—a strange new unsatisfied desire. One geared to please her new girlfriend. Vicki twisted round, offering her soft little bottom. “Like it, don’t you, Mistress?”
“Do I like it?” Catherine’s voice grew husky and forceful. She snarled, “Tell me, you liked it. Tell me, you little whore!” Her snarly tone indicated an insistence on a correct answer. Under the fine leather, her nipples raged, stiffened with unbridled lust. They ached. There was only one remedy that could transform the intense pain burning at her soul into a pleasure she was so desperate to take.
Whack…whack!
Catherine brought her hand down, striking Vicki’s soft white ass. First the left. Now the right cheek. Nice. She quickly had Vicki back on the path to orgasm.
“Yes! Oh. Yes, Catherine, I like it. Do it.” Vicki caught a breath then cooed, “Do it, harder.”
Catherine smacked the soft little beauties again, this time rubbing down between her thighs. Two more stern whacks had Vicki smoldering toward another orgasm.
“You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn, you naughty little slut. Tell Mistress Katrina you like it!”
“Katrina?” Surprise in her voice, Vicki viewed the darkened glass. She could see a wicked excitement boiling in those now dark eyes. Helpless to resist, her heart pounding, she willingly surrendered. “Yes! Yes. Oh! Don’t stop, Mistress.” She was melting uncontrollably.
“You’re so hot.” Catherine stroked the creamy soft pink bottom. She raised her hand, ready to bring it down on Vicki’s ass. “Have you been a bad girl?”
Vicki didn’t answer.
Whack!
“Ouch!”
Whack!
“Hey, that fucking hurts!”
Whack!
“Okay! I’m a bad girl. Stop it!”
“Do you like it, whore?”
Whack!
“You do! Don’t you my little slut whore?” Catherine raised her arm again. She paused to admire Vicki’s scorched bottom. “Tell Mistress—”
Ring… Ring…
“Fuck!”
The phone rang again, freezing her arm. When am I ever going to get laid? She released her hold, helping Vicki up.
Vicki ran and picked up the phone. “Us? Nothing…Really?…Okay. See you in a few… Yup…Love you. ’Bye.”
Catherine was already up, checking herself in the darkened glass.
“It was my mom. They’re on the way up.” Vicki worked her boobs back in. “Zip me, will you, Mistress.”
“Sorry, I got a little rough. Goes with the outfit.” She added a fake laugh.
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.” Vicki pulled Catherine in, kissing her passionately. They parted. “Shall we, babe?”
“Thanks. Hey, can you help me—”
Click. The door opened. It was Elaine, Lady Jacqueline, and Miss Christi.
“Come, dear, it’s time we got to bed.”
Close one. I’ll say.
Bedtime Visits
Suite 30C, 23:13 local
They arrived back at their suite to retire for the evening. While changing for bed, Catherine saw her grandmother mostly undressed. Something about her underpants had her spellbound. It must suck being old.
Miss Christi caught her staring, as if transfixed. “They’re my protection, dear. Need help with your boots?”
“No thanks. I can manage.” Protection? Great. She wets the bed too.
Lying in bed, she entertained herself, reliving the lipsticky Vicki encounter over and over, when, something startled her. Miss Christi was mumbling in her sleep. She didn’t dare move, but strained to make out the distorted words. It sounded like she was talking to
someone. Her lover? Catherine lay there, listening.
“Oh, Sir Katherine…save me… Yes, my love.” Miss Christi’s breathing grew heavy. Her words mixed with moans. “No!” Her restless legs kicked. Her oral emissions became more primitive, grunts mostly. She kicked again then swung an arm, hitting Catherine in the chest.
“Hey!” Shit! Is Granny dreaming? It was a dream. A sex dream? Should I wake her? She gave it a bit longer, hoping Miss Christi would settle. She slid herself to the edge of the bed and out of arm’s reach. She watched as Miss Christi flailed about then reached out and grasped, “My hand!” Shit! Someone had joined the dream.
Without warning, Miss Christi’s breathing stopped. Her hand pulled back. She was touching herself with Catherine’s hand. Her whole body tensed then the bed began to tremble wildly. Their nightmare was over. She let out one final moan and settled. After a minute, her breathing calmed.
Catherine slid near and whispered, “Hey, Gran, you okay?” She didn’t dare touch her, again.
Miss Christi woke, let out a long sigh and said, “What’s that? Oh. Sorry, dear. Did I wake you?”
“What? Huh? No. I was sleeping.” She gave a fake yawn and stretched.
“I see. Sorry if I disturbed you. Goodnight, my dear.” She settled back into a deep restful sleep.
Yeah, GoodKnight. “Yeah. Happy dreams.” Wow! That’s pretty cool. Granny can still get herself off. Yeah, in her sleep too. Sir Katherine? She was looking at me kinda funny tonight. She did say I look like her. What the hell. Glad I could help Gran. Now it’s my turn. I’ll try to not wake you.
She grabbed her tired, but still trusty iPhone off the bed stand and slipped it under the sheets, where it could be of more use. Without looking, she thumbed out her desires.
Where are you?
Nothing…
You’re going to get quite a spanking when ICU
Nothing…
Are you wet for MK?
Nothing…
Me too. I love you. Tell me. NOW!
She put the iPhone on vibrate and stuck it between her legs. She started stroking her nipples and waited for her own dream lover to crawl into their bed. She didn’t wait long.
Yes! I’m so bloody wet for MK. Sorry for not finding you. Looked everywhere. Terribly sorry love. What shall you do with me.
Freeing her nipples, she replied:
Put my BP over MK knee! Spank that cute little bottom. Hard! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
The phone tingled in her thighs. She read the reply:
Oh please, please, MK, I’ve been so naughty today. Spank me harder.
Eyes closed, she tapped:
Yes you have, Touch me now.
With each tingle she continued the sexting:
Where may I touch you, MK?
You know where! Do it now!
I’m touching you. May I kiss you MK?
No slut. Keep touching me there.
She pushed the iPhone against her panties and waited. Every so often the device tingled. She pushed harder. The interval between incoming texts lessened until they began arriving one after another. She lay there enjoying her cybersex partner’s well-spaced words for a few minutes before sending her next command.
Suck my nipples.
Thank you MK. I’m kissing them.
Kiss them… Harder… Suck them!… Don’t stop!
Another minute tingled by.
Suck them. Harder. Slut.
“Harder!” Shit! She tilted her head to see if her loose lips had aroused Miss Christi. Still sleeping like a baby. Yeah, a baby in wet diapers.
Eyes closed and back with her lover, MK neared her peak. Her virtual lover’s next text sent her over the top.
I promise to collect you tomorrow.
She didn’t read it. Instead, she bit her lip and held her breath. Suppressing her desire to scream out, waves of pleasure rippled through her core. Like a moderate earthquake, each one greater that the last, radiated out from her epicenter. After a few minutes to collect her thoughts, Catherine sent one final text for the night:
That’s my good girl. MK very sleepy now. Tuck little self into bed. Go to sleep my love. Dream your naughty dreams. I still love you.
MK didn’t read the reply as her own battery was too drained. Having seen it so many times, she wasn’t concerned. Tomorrow—yes, all would be well soon. They would be together again.
One room over, KK pried the iPhone from Jane’s thumbs and read the last text. GoodKnight MK. Miss Jane loves her sweetie too. “Who’s MK?”
“A very naughty girl.”
“Ja, me too. Now do you have time for your favorite knotty girl?”
Jane took Natasha’s iPhone from KK and connected it to her charger. Who knew they had a bloody app for that? “Right then, where’s me rope?”
Catherine settled off, only to be awakened twice later by the possessed couple in the adjacent room.
The Morning After
New York, NY, Thursday, 28 May, 06:40 local
Lit only by the glow of CNBC on the flat panel, the bedroom was still. The well-spaced bumps under the covers had yet to stir. Miss Christi, already dressed, had risen at six to check the news. Given the recent financial panic, she found herself tuning in on a regular basis. Krump Industries had announced another takeover.
The on-screen personalities were interviewing Senator Winter about her not-so-secret subcommittee’s investigation of Krump’s alleged ties to known terrorist states. “What about North Korea?” The senator had no comment on matters of national security. They asked if she had met with Herr Krump. Again, no comment. They put up a photo of the senator and KK. He asked, “Berlin?” She said it was a private matter. “Really?” Senator Winter smiled briefly and added, “Next question. I have a train to catch.” The questions continued as a loop of KK’s glossy exploits played in the background. “So, senator, there’s been chatter that you’ll be meeting with Krump in New York this—”
Miss Christi had muted the sound and stepped to rouse her silent bedmate. “Wake up, kitten. You have just enough time to shower and get ready, dear.”
“Wait! What did she say?” Catherine saw her and turned away, facing the still-shaded window. “You go, I’ll catch up.” That old bitch!
“Please be quick, my dear. Miss Danielle will be ’round to collect us in twenty minutes. We’re booked on the 8:03 Acela for Boston.” Miss Christi was sipping her second cup of tea. “I ordered you a little something to eat. It’s waiting in the parlor. Would you like some tea, my dear?”
“What? Oh yeah, New York. Okay, Gran, I’m up.” Sticky, Vicki… Was last night a dream? She rolled to her side. The iPhone fell from between her legs. Nope. “What time is it?” Her hand slipped under to retrieve the device before Miss Christi noticed. Shit. The battery. No charger. Stupid Fuck! What am I gonna do for fun until my BP shows. Get more sleep. Catherine closed her eyes.
“It’s a beautiful morning, kitten. Time to rise and shine, dear.” Miss Christi gently drew up the shade. They were the old spring-loaded-on-a-roll kind. First, you pull down and then let it roll up without letting go, else they go way too high. She saw no sign that Catherine had stirred. With the second shade she pulled then released. The shade flew. The early morning sun poured in. The shade made a loud slapping sound as it beat itself around the roll. Bright warm beams of sunshine heated Catherine’s face, jolting her from the false slumber.
“Hey!” She groaned, “I’m up.” Blinded by the sunbeams, Catherine closed her eyes. Memories of the previous evening replayed on the inside of her eyelids. Vicky… Did we? Really make out? Last night? She rubbed her temples. The need to go quickly overcame her desire to remain in bed. Throwing back the covers, she soon found herself vertical beside the bed. “My head hurts. Hey, you’re dressed.” Like a granny again.
“Ten minutes, Miss Black.” Miss Christi started toward the sitting room.
“But my head hurts!” She’d slept in only the panties she’d worn out last evening. She moved
toward the bathroom, grabbing her new purse along the way.
Returning from the bathroom to find Miss Christi still in the doorway, Catherine stepped onto the same spot where she dropped her new leather mini last night, bent down, and pulled. She zipped her new favorite skirt tight then reached under and removed her expired panties, kicking them high, watching as they fell to land on the rumpled sheets.
“Remember, dear, nine minutes.” Miss Christi left her, returning to the sitting room.
“Where’s my stuff?” called Catherine as she turned the corner and strutted into the sitting room, still rubbing her head.
Miss Christi, standing by the window, turned to see.
“Enjoying the view?” She lowered her arm and smirked, then spotted the Hush-Hush shopping bag on the carpet, near the breakfast table. “There they are.”
“I see you’re keeping fit, my dear,” said Miss Christi with a glance as she sat to resume her breakfast.
The vision sashayed toward the table. “Thanks, Gran! Hey, did you hear all that noise next door last night?”
Sunbeams bounced from the mirror, highlighting Catherine like a spotlight. They further enhanced her way-too-developed-for-fifteen swimsuit-edition figure and cover-girl face. In the last few months, she had become much less concerned with physical fitness. She quit the swim team mid season in March, dropping them out of contention for first place. Her coach and parents couldn’t understand it. She’d always loved swimming and competing. The only exercise she got lately was with her thumbs.
Before puberty hit with the force of Hurricane Katrina, she’d acted more like a tomboy than the stunning beauty she was concealing. At the age when most girls wanted a Barbie, she had wanted a Lionel. Her parents got her one of each. That was centuries ago. These days, the only toy Catherine played with was her own. In recent weeks she’d become overly concerned with her appearance and shape, not to mention the size of her ever-increasing breasts.