SoloPlay: Come Again, Book 2

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SoloPlay: Come Again, Book 2 Page 2

by Miranda Baker


  Just as her fingers closed around a plastic package, she heard a low chuckle right behind her. Her eyes snapped open and she accidentally knocked the toy off its hook.

  “I’m not sure you want to go with the ‘lucky pick’ approach when choosing a vibrator.” Leather girl gave her a friendly smile. “Quite a selection, huh?” the girl—woman, really—continued. She was dressed like the hippest of hip Goth teenagers, but she must be at least Alisa’s age, maybe a bit older. Her dark eyes were heavily outlined in deep black and highlighted with gold eye shadow. The rest of her makeup was bold too. The effect was exotic and very pretty at the same time.

  Alisa gazed at her, unable to do more than nod. As the salesgirl bent to rescue the toy from the floor, her low-cut bustier dipped dangerously and her short leather skirt rode up to the top of her thighs. She replaced the toy on its hook. “I can help you narrow it down, if you like. Do you like to play with your clit or are you a G-spot girl?” The question was absurdly direct, yet inoffensive, as if she were discussing bananas at the supermarket. Sexual pleasure was all in a day’s work for her, after all. Apparently she was good at it too, because lube guy was standing at the counter handing over a small, purple bottle as if he were reluctant to part with it for even a moment.

  The salesgirl glanced at the counter too. “Breastfeeding wife. Estrogen issues,” she offered. “Oops. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “I won’t tell,” Alisa said.

  “Thanks. Now back to you, and I promise, really, I won’t tell a soul. How do you like to come?”

  Suddenly, Alisa could understand how the man, so intent on the labels, so isolated, could abruptly spill his guts to this beautiful stranger. Something about her made Alisa want to confide in her too. There was no judgment in her eyes. No apparent agenda. Well, except sales, naturally. Could she try to be matter-of-fact about pleasure too? She was in a place where every person who stepped through the door had sex on the brain, after all.

  The words broke free in a rush. “No clue. I’ve never done it.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. Had she really just said that? Out loud?

  “Really?” Leather girl grinned. “Oh, honey. You are going to be so happy you came here! I can set you up so sweet, you’ll never want to leave your house again. I’m Crystal.” She held out her hand.

  Alisa lowered her hand from her face and took it. She felt sparks shoot up her arm.

  Crystal arched an eyebrow and her lips curved slightly. “Hmm.” The noise was a faint hum in her throat. She caressed Alisa’s hand with her thumb before letting her go, making her shiver. Goose bumps broke out on her arms, then her legs.

  Crystal turned to the wall. “Not the rabbit. The tiger? Nah. Straight vibrating egg? Maybe. With tickler? Even better. Still, I think we’re missing something. You need…you want…hmm.” Crystal made the noise again.

  Alisa knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help herself. Crystal had crossed her arms as she surveyed the vibrators, and her breasts spilled over the top of her bustier. The lush, smooth curves looked real, not fake, and yet they were perfect. Alisa suddenly wondered what they would look like naked.

  She shifted back and forth in her shoes. The motion rubbed her thighs together and made her aware of the fact that she was getting wet. She froze. If her feet hadn’t felt nailed to the floor, she would have bolted, stunned and ashamed.

  Crystal turned to her and smiled. Her black eyes glowed with triumph. “I’ve got it.” Her arm brushed Alisa’s shoulder as she reached to pluck an item from the shelf, and Alisa shivered. “You’re a butterfly girl.” She held up the pink device for inspection.

  The wings were made of translucent plastic, rounded and ribbed to resemble the pattern on a real butterfly’s wings. It looked innocent and shiny, like a child’s teething toy, but the silver bullet at the heart of the butterfly proclaimed its sexual purpose.

  Alisa’s breath stuttered in her throat and she could feel a light dew of perspiration break out on her upper lip. Her armpits began to prickle. Breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Yoga breathing. Nothing wrong with being gay. Not that she was gay.

  “You could go with that model over there too, but I like the antennae on this little guy much better. Nice and flexible.” Crystal leaned closer. Her scent was pure musk, a heady, rich aroma that made Alisa think of mink coats and incense. And sex. “Put one on each side of your clit and you’ll be in heaven. It’s also silent. Totally discreet. You could even take it to work if you’re having one of those days. Where do you work, by the way?” Crystal led her toward the register.

  As they walked, Alisa noticed an exotic flower tattoo on Crystal’s shoulder, peeking out from underneath her dark, curling hair. She tried not to notice her perfect ass. That her legs were killer. That her walk was easy with a sexuality and body confidence that made Alisa realize she was missing the boat somewhere. Somewhere important.

  It took her a minute to remember the question. “I work at the library,” Alisa finally told her.

  “Oh, that’s perfect.” Crystal’s dark eyes laughed at her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, the whole hot librarian thing. It’s classic.”

  “Oh.” Alisa bit her lip. Was Crystal flirting with her?

  “Let’s check the batteries.” She casually plucked the butterfly from its plastic enclosure and flipped a switch. “Here—feel.” Crystal reached for her hand.

  The buzz was insistent against her palm. Transfixed, Alisa reached out with one finger to stroke the whipping antennae. She imagined how that would feel against her…clit. She practiced thinking the word.

  She felt Crystal’s glance sweep over her chest and realized her nipples were visible through her thin blouse, begging for attention. She shifted, trying to make her breasts less noticeable. The slide of herself in her damp panties increased her agitation.

  Crystal slid the butterfly into a paper bag. “It comes with stock batteries. Do you want a backup set?”

  She shook her head and fumbled for cash as Crystal rang up the sale.

  “Here’s my business card.” Crystal handed her a pink card along with her change.

  Alisa dropped the change into her purse but held on to the card. She gave Crystal a brief smile, afraid to look at her for too long because she knew she would start staring again.

  Crystal chatted on. “You are going to love the butterfly. Of course, when you want something inside you, you’ll have to come back for reinforcements. Ask for me when you do. Or give me a call. Helping people find what turns them on is my specialty.”

  Alisa glanced at the business card in her hand. Crystal LaRusso, Sensual Psychic. Get in Touch and Come Again. Finally, the librarian in her kick-started her brain and she found her voice. “What’s a sensual psychic?”

  Crystal’s eyes met hers. “Don’t freak, sweetie, but I know exactly how you’re feeling right now.”

  Alisa inhaled too fast, choked, and began to cough.

  Crystal’s bright laugh made her cough harder.

  “I block everyone out most of the time.” She stepped around the counter. “Took forever to get the hang of that, but I’m pretty good at it now. I usually don’t snoop unless I’m invited, and I’m really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have touched your hand before, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “No.” A small smile curved her lips. “Why don’t we go back to my office and talk about it?”

  Alisa took a sharp breath.

  Warning bells rang in her head. She was in a downtown porn shop flirting with a woman who claimed to be a psychic—if she were less desperate she would get the hell out of here. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny her curiosity. Psychic or not, there was something about this unusual woman that called to her. What if Crystal could help her?

  She allowed herself to be drawn away from the register.

  Crystal called to her dark-haired co-worker, who was now assisting yet another custo
mer in the lube aisle, that she was going to take her dinner break. She pulled Alisa toward the back of the store, where a door was camouflaged by the rainbow wall of vibrators. Crystal opened it for her, then led her down a short hallway and into a small room.

  Although it held a large desk, the room didn’t look like an office. The chaise lounge parked against one wall and the red velvet couch in front of the desk made it feel more like a bedroom, especially when Crystal locked the door behind them. The walls were painted an intimate color, a shade somewhere between brick and burgundy, and swathes of exotic material draped artfully over the furniture and lamps increased the sensual atmosphere. Crystal took her hand and led her to the couch. “What’s your name?”

  “Alisa Mane.”

  “You got under my skin, Alisa. Not too many girls do that to me. And almost no men.” Crystal’s lips curved. She took Alisa’s other hand and pulled her down onto the couch facing her. “Let me read you again. I’m dying to. I caught a glimpse of desire, and determination, and…hurt.”

  Alisa had been hiding the hurt part, even from herself.

  “May I?” Crystal pressed.

  Alisa shifted on the couch. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

  “Let me help you understand yourself. You’re in a sex shop, but you don’t know how you like to come. You feel totally straight, but you came back here with me,” she mused. “You’re broadcasting so loud I can barely shut you out, but your eyes don’t tell me a thing. You keep it all in your head, don’t you? What happened to you? Why are you here?”

  Again, Alisa felt bound to confide in her. “I skipped lunch to have sex with my boyfriend, then he dumped me.”

  “His loss.” Crystal stroked her palm.

  “Not so much. Apparently, I’m frigid.”

  Crystal’s low chuckle was reassuring. “Every jerk who misfires tries to peddle that line. Did you enjoy the sex?”

  Alisa shook her head and tried to reclaim her hand.

  “Tell me about the hurt,” Crystal demanded softly, holding onto her fingers.

  How on earth did she know? Alisa shrugged, attempting to banish the lingering depression and anxiety that had been dogging her since her mother’s call. What if she never found the man of her dreams? Or worse—what if, like her mother, she married a man who not only didn’t satisfy her but also made her miserable? Still, it was ridiculous to talk about her parents’ train wreck of a marriage when there was a hot lesbian holding her hand in the back room of a sex shop, for God’s sake. Although, since I’m frigid, I’m unlikely to do anything else, she thought hopelessly.

  She met Crystal’s heavy gaze, unable to give voice to her curiosity or desire. Crystal leaned closer, bringing with her the scent of musk, of sex. Alisa shivered, and Crystal soothed her shudders by stroking her arm. Her eyes grew mischievous. “Well, at least now I know how one hot librarian in Norton likes to spend her lunch hour. Are the rest of them like you?” she asked lightly, letting her gently off the hook.

  Alisa smiled, thinking of Beth, her desk mate at the library. “A few,” she answered.

  “God help us all.” Crystal reached toward her to tuck an escaping lock of hair behind her ear. “I can’t resist a frustrated librarian who looks like Barbie’s younger sister.” Alisa wasn’t at all surprised when Crystal tugged the band out of her hair. Released from its loose bun, her long blond hair fell in a wave onto her shoulders, down her back.

  “Will you let me help you?” Crystal murmured, threading gentle hands through her hair.

  Alisa stared at Crystal, so close, stroking her hair. Her eyes dropped to the soft, pale rectangle of skin above her thigh-high boot, then rose to the curving swell of her breasts in their leather confinement. The sharp desire to touch this beautiful woman was unfamiliar and shocking, exhilarating. If she had felt this way with Eric, everything would have been very different.

  It was easier than she would have imagined to say, “Yes.”

  Crystal’s hand shaped her skull, angled her head.

  Alisa stopped breathing. Her eyes slid shut as she waited.

  She felt Crystal’s breath, then the touch of her lips. Soft. Sparks flashed behind her eyelids. Breath rushed into her lungs, and she moved into Crystal’s embrace, seeking a deeper connection. She felt Crystal’s smile against her mouth, felt her hand drift across her collarbone, then pause near her breast. She sighed as Crystal’s hand dropped to her lap.

  Paper crinkled. Alisa realized she was still holding her purchase when Crystal tugged the bag out of her stiff fingers.

  “Product demonstration?” she asked. One dark eyebrow arched in invitation and a smile tilted her lips. Alisa nodded slowly. Heat and electricity charged her skin and her heart began to race. Crystal rose from the couch and walked to the small sink in the corner of the room. Alisa heard water running and realized she must be washing the butterfly.

  She waited, barely breathing, until Crystal returned from the sink and slid to her knees on the floor. Soft hands parted Alisa’s thighs, pushing her khaki skirt up to the top of her legs. She held very still when Crystal’s fingers slipped under the elastic of her panties and began to ease them over her hips.

  “Lift up.” Now she was naked under her skirt.

  Crystal looked at her there. Alisa felt her cheeks burn.

  “So pretty,” she said, slipping one finger through Alisa’s moisture with a sure touch, making her jump. Crystal settled the cold plastic butterfly between Alisa’s legs and rocked it against her wetness before she flipped the switch.

  Alisa tried to scoot away from the startling vibration, but Crystal held her still with a strong hand on her thigh. “Hang on.” She wiggled the butterfly, moving it down. “Tell me when it gets good.”

  Alisa clamped her eyes shut.

  Down, down. A glimmer flashed on the backs of her eyelids. Oh, that felt good. Tiny little nibbles, wiggling, flipping. Oh, oh, she felt…

  The butterfly dropped out of range. The glimmer receded. Alisa opened her eyes. Crystal was watching her with a gentle smile, crouched between her thighs, holding the butterfly against her with one hand. The position forced her breasts above the top of the bustier, and Alisa could see the rosy edge of one nipple. She wanted to see more. Just the thought made her—

  Crystal moved the butterfly up a bit. Alisa couldn’t bite back the cry that flew from her throat when the glimmer returned, full force.

  “Feel good?”

  Alisa moaned.

  “Say it.” Crystal turned a knob on the vibrator and the butterfly went wild. “Tell me it feels good.”

  Higher, higher. Crystal moved the butterfly a tiny bit higher and fireworks burst behind Alisa’s eyelids. Everything became much brighter, clearer. She felt as if tiny sparks of light were flowing through her veins and into her extremities, lighting up her fingertips, her feet, her lips. So this was an orgasm. Alisa opened her eyes, astonished.

  “Say it.” Crystal’s dark eyes encouraged her.

  “Yes,” Alisa whispered, and with that admission, the sparks exploded. Her hips arched off the couch. Waves of pleasure raced from her center, through her limbs and back again. Alisa chased the pulsing, rippling, tingling, starburst lights.

  Crystal continued to do things with the butterfly, things Alisa didn’t understand or care about as long as she kept moving the vibrator into exactly the right place at the right time. Alisa kept her eyes shut, but her thighs were open as wide as they could go. She would let Crystal do anything she wanted as long as it felt like this. A whole world of rapture had existed inside her, untapped, invisible until this moment.

  Gradually, the glow began to fade. Alisa felt Crystal pull the butterfly away from her. Cool air made her shiver, and Crystal soothed her with knowing fingers. Alisa wanted her to… Actually, she wasn’t sure what she wanted her to do, but she was lonely when Crystal took her hands away.

  After a minute, she heard water running from the sink in the corner.

  When Alisa dragged her ey
elids open, Crystal was sitting next to her on the couch with her legs crossed and the bag was sitting on the coffee table.

  “There.” Crystal’s nod was cheerful, not smug. “Not frigid. Unfortunately for me, not gay either.”

  Alisa mewled a protest and struggled to sit up.

  “No, it’s okay. I knew that,” Crystal said.

  Alisa wasn’t so sure. She certainly hadn’t felt like that with Eric. No fireworks, no sparks, nothing. Being gay explained everything.

  Crystal stroked Alisa’s thigh, smoothing her skirt back into place. “You are definitely on a journey, sweetie.”

  “I’ve never felt like that before,” Alisa said.

  “That, my friend, was just the tip of the iceberg. There are things your body can do, things you’ve never dreamed existed.” Her easy smile made Alisa tingle. “I guarantee that after spending a few weeks with me, the next man you take to bed will not think you’re frigid.” Crystal’s hand was warm on her hip. Alisa reveled in the way her heart beat faster. “I’d also like to help you understand what you need and why you haven’t found it.”

  Doubt pricked Alisa’s euphoria. “Are you asking me to be one of your clients?” she asked.

  Crystal laughed as she shook her head. “My techniques are unconventional, but I don’t have sex with my clients. Jealousy is bad for business.” Her hand moved from Alisa’s hip to her knee, then dipped under her skirt. “I’d like to have a lot more sex with you, though.” She leaned forward.

  Crystal’s lips whispered over the uncertain line of her mouth at the same instant her long finger slid inside Alisa’s body. Alisa’s mouth opened in a gasp. The arch of her hips nearly knocked them both off the wide couch. She felt Crystal’s touch everywhere—on her lips, where Crystal’s supple mouth skated and slid with such knowing skill, on the bright points of her nipples, burning beneath her bra, and between her legs, where Crystal’s fingers were quickly building another inferno. She opened her thighs in invitation.

  Crystal filled her with one finger, then two, then three, an impossible fullness that made her groan. She thrust her hips in a short, tight arc that made bright flames flash behind her eyelids.

 

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