by Sacchi Green
Paige’s concentration was lost the moment Lydia strode into the dressing room in a skintight belly-dance dress that matched the long, red hair flowing dramatically behind her.
“Right, solo done. Just our big finale to go!”
Paige rolled her eyes. She’d been practicing for the finale when Lydia burst in and had now lost her place completely.
“Do you think we’ve got time for one more run-through?” Paige’s eyes flirted with the clock above the door.
“Darling,” said Lydia, placing her hands on Paige’s shoulders, “we’ve practiced it a million times. If you don’t know it by now, you never will.”
Lydia was right, Paige knew, and yet she still couldn’t help feeling nervous. It was the same every time she performed; she loved choreographing a routine, rehearsing and planning the costumes, but when she was finally backstage at a show, surrounded by exuberant performers, colorful veils and the mingling scents of perfume and hairspray, she’d start to feel sick and would vow never to put herself through the ordeal again.
Feeling suddenly ridiculous in her skimpy blue bra and skirt costume, Paige crossed her arms protectively across her stomach, sending the rows of gold coins around her waist into a jingling frenzy.
“Oh, Paige, chill out,” said Lydia, “or do I have to come over there and make you relax?”
Paige’s reply was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Five minutes, guys!” called a runner from outside.
“Perfect, just enough time.” Lydia grinned mischievously and Paige knew without a shadow of a doubt what her girlfriend was thinking.
“Whoa, we can’t. Not here, not now.” Paige gestured around at the dressing room, trying to appeal to Lydia’s sensible side, even though that had never been the most successful strategy in the past.
“You know your trouble?” said Lydia, sauntering over and planting a kiss on Paige’s forehead.
“Falling for my dance rival?”
“No, you think too much. Now let me relax those shoulders. How can you dance sensually if you’re all tense?”
Paige closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Lydia’s soft hands working the knots out of her shoulders. Just as she felt the tension start to leave her body, however, she felt those hands ease down toward her cleavage and the tension flooded straight back.
“Lydia!”
“Okay, Okay.” Lydia held up her hands in mock defeat. “I can see you’re not up for it. Guess I’ll just change into my costume, then.”
Lydia stood before Paige, slowly peeling off the slinky dress she’d worn for her solo. Paige watched as the body she knew so well was revealed; the full breasts she loved to caress, the hips that mesmerized when she danced, the creamy legs that seemed to go on forever. Beads of sweat still clung to Lydia’s skin from the exertion of her solo and Paige found herself wanting to reach out and kiss them away.
Lydia stood before Paige completely naked, the dress pooled around her feet. Her hand was placed cockily on one hip and her long hair just covered her nipples.
“Still think we haven’t got time?”
Paige realized she’d been snared; the warmth growing between her legs didn’t care how little time there was and demanded further attention.
Lydia saw the shift in Paige’s expression and grinned. The two girls came at each other in a whirlwind of passion and excitement, kisses and caresses landing wherever they happened to fall. Paige’s hands roamed Lydia’s back, squeezed her arse and scratched down her shoulder blades as their mouths met violently. They pressed together, hot and fierce. Lydia’s voluminous breasts smothered Paige’s, constrained as they were in their sequined bra. Lydia reached for the clasp.
“No, wait; no time,” breathed Paige, her voice hoarse.
“Okay.” Lydia shrugged, lowered her head to the double mound of Paige’s cleavage and began to kiss and nibble at the exposed skin. Paige moaned and curled her fingers in her lover’s hair but couldn’t resist a glance at the clock.
As if reading her mind, Lydia started to move more quickly. She pushed aside layer after layer of Paige’s flowing skirt until she reached the treasured prize beneath.
“Oh, Paige honey, you’re so wet!”
Paige couldn’t have replied even if she’d wanted to. Lydia knew her too well and manipulated her desperate clit with practiced ease, running teasing fingers around and then lightly across the tiny, wet bud while her tongue dived between into the cleft between her breasts.
“Oh…oh!”
Paige tipped her head back and moaned with desire, pushing her hips forward in her desperation for a firmer touch. After a minute more of teasing Lydia relented and with strong fingers switched to the quick, circular motion that she knew would be an instant hit. Sure enough, an uncharacteristic list of expletives issued from Paige’s lips and she wailed like a person who really didn’t care whether anyone heard her or not.
“Oh…fuck!” Paige panted out at the height of her orgasm, juddering and shuddering as Lydia held her tightly between the legs and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Her body felt limp, peaceful and completely relaxed.
“Mmm, that sounded nice!” Lydia grinned.
Snapping back into the moment like a pro, Paige glanced at the clock. A minute to go.
As Lydia rushed to pin up her hair up and clip on her bra, Paige froze.
“Oh, my god, scratch marks!” Two bright red streaks marked their passion across Lydia’s shoulder blades, clearly visible above the skimpy bra. Lydia examined them in the mirror. Her amused expression suggested she wasn’t terribly concerned.
Paige was just about to reach for the concealer when the door burst open.
“You’re on, guys!”
Lydia yanked up her skirt just in time to avoid showing the runner more than she’d bargained for.
“Come on, gorgeous.” She laughed, grabbed Paige’s hand and sprinted to the door. “Let’s give them a show to remember!”
IN THE BUSH
Debra Anderson
On the drive up to the campsite, I start to worry whether I had turned off the stove before we left.
“Babe, did you check the oven?”
“Try to stop worrying.” Sasha’s calm voice always makes everything go quieter, like she’s turning down a dial somewhere inside me.
Sasha lays her hand on my leg. Little sparks shoot out from where her fingers curl around my inner thigh. For the last five years, this is what she does when I drive—a way to remind me that she’s right there, beside me, when she knows I’m probably going a million miles in my head, agonizing about something.
“I checked everything before we left. We’re going to have a good time with Mindy and Tara.”
I make myself unclench my teeth. Mindy and Tara are the types of laid back people who never worry about mosquitoes or running out of drinking water or getting poisoned from food left out in the sun. A rabid raccoon could bite Mindy in the face and she’d still be smiling and saying, Hey, what’s everyone stressing out about? Just let me finish my beer before we go to the hospital.
“It’s going to be great,” I tell Sasha and concentrate on making sure none of the other cars crash into us.
People drive so badly when it’s a long weekend.
“What a night,” Sasha calls to Mindy and Tara before slipping into our tent.
“Come on, quick, the bugs are getting in,” I hiss.
“Okay, I didn’t realize I was sleeping with the Bug Police,” Sasha jokes and seals the tent.
It makes a loud noise like something tearing.
“Good night!” Mindy calls.
“Don’t make too much noise,” Tara yells.
I listen to hear them zip up, but there’s only quiet, punctuated by rustling and giggling. I lean over to tell Sasha, because they’ll be covered with bug bites tomorrow, but she covers my mouth with hers and pushes me down. Our sleeping bag slips underneath me and the air mattress bounces up and down, pressing us against each other. Everything feels
different here than in our bedroom at home where I always need everything in its place and Sasha lets me have free rein. It’s shaky and unsteady inside the tent—this space where nothing is the same. Maybe I don’t have to be, either.
Sasha pulls off my skirt and panties with one hand and yanks up my tank top with the other, undoes my bra and stares into my eyes. The air is cool against me. I feel bare under her, like suddenly I have miles of skin I never had before. Sasha looks beautiful, but strange in the moonlight, like someone I don’t know. My hand slides on her stomach, moving across her chest, pulling there, tighter. I draw her down closer. Something catches in me.
“Do you think they put out the fire?”
“Yes, yes, the fire is out,” Sasha whispers into my neck.
Her breath so close stirs me. It’s like there’s a bunch of dry autumn leaves rattling around me in crazy circles that I can’t control, and she’s the windstorm. When Sasha brushes her mouth over my neck my legs spill open and I let her take me, unlike at home where I always have trouble staying in my skin and it feels better to be the one touching someone. She’s sucking hard there and it’s as though all the tightness in me bleeds out from that one spot. My legs fall open wider and I can feel how wet I am. It’s seeped down onto the sleeping bag underneath us; this throbbing between my legs erases every other thought. I pull Sasha’s hand there and she pauses for a moment, checking with me. We don’t usually do this.
“Please,” I whisper, clenching her tighter around the wrist.
She runs her finger over the swollen split of me and I buck up against her, eager.
“Not so fast,” she teases.
I can tell she enjoys being the one to make me beg. Usually it’s me who strings her painfully along, forces her to ask if she can come.
But I don’t want to wait.
“We’re not playing that game,” I bark.
“Shh,” she says. “Mindy and Tara will hear.”
“I don’t care. You need to fuck me and you need to fuck me now.”
I push Sasha against me again, kissing her roughly and pulling her tongue into my mouth, holding her face close.
Her finger pushes into me and nothing else matters but this. For once, I don’t feel like I have to hold on to everything so rigidly. It’s like climbing outside of a closed, hard little shell that’s been pressing into me only to find that outside, there is so much more space than I ever realized.
“More,” I say in a low growl, panting.
Sasha comes back at me with three fingers and I’m full with her, twisting against her as she fucks into me, slow at first and then fast. I let everything else go except the shape of her above me, the feel of her inside of me. I’m rooted to the ground by Sasha’s fingers pumping into me, my cunt clutching at her.
She pushes her tongue deep inside my mouth. It’s so full I feel like I can’t take any more of her and I struggle to breathe and then relax into her. She pushes deeper into my mouth and I suck at her, desperate. Sasha pulls hard at one of my nipples, and it’s like she’s ripping out a bright string of light that surges from my chest. I come spread-eagled underneath Sasha, my legs straining against the air mattress, this pulse in my cunt ebbing through me like someone’s dropped a huge, heavy rock in a lake and a million circles are pushing outward in the water, each one almost pulling me under, insistent. She pulls her hand out slowly and wraps her arm around me. I curl up against her, drifting off to the sharp smell of bug spray, the faint coconut scent of her sunscreen and the campfire’s smokiness deep in the roots of her hair.
I wake up to the sound of Mindy and Tara banging pots and pans.
“Are you guys ever coming out?” Tara hollers.
I stretch against Sasha and realize I’ve slept without any of the protective pj’s I usually wear when camping. Sasha’s body feels nice against mine, the flannel of the sleeping bag rubbing softly against us.
“Morning.” She smiles.
“I wish it was last night again,” I say, kissing her.
“There’s always tonight,” she says, dipping briefly between my legs.
At the picnic table, Tara makes omelets on her camping stove. She wipes the raw egg from her hands on her thighs and then pours the OJ, but I’m so thirsty I figure it won’t kill us. Sasha looks at me and waits for me to say something. It tastes good—clean and cold, and the acid snaps at my tongue.
“We checked the weather today and a bad storm is coming so we’re going to pack up early—”
“I think we’re going to stay.” I look at Sasha and then back at our tent.
“You’re not worried?” Tara looks confused.
“For once, I think everything is going to be okay,” I say.
When I look down, Sasha’s hand is curled around my thigh. I can feel the warmth and weight of her on me like I’ve never felt it before—five fingers steady, wrapped around me, ready for anything. For once, I’m right here beside her, and nowhere else, no matter what storms may be coming.
WHAT NEXT?
MJ Williamz
The harder I strained, the tighter the scarves got around my wrists and ankles. The more she tickled me, the harder I strained. She was a cruel woman. Fun, but cruel.
I’m an exhibitionist, so being tied naked and spread-eagled to the bed had me growing more aroused by the minute. My clit swelled, thinking of her sea-blue eyes focused on it. I wanted to pull my lips back, to show her off, but was unable. So I lay there blindfolded and bound to her four-poster bed, nipples and clitoris at attention as I waited for whatever games she had planned.
The tickling finally stopped. I relaxed against my restraints. I felt cold metal against my nipples and then the pinch of clamps. She draped the chain across my mouth, and I knew that it was within my ability to keep the tension as it was or tighten it. I told myself I’d lie still, for the pressure was perfect.
I heard the buzzing and tried to brace myself for it, but when she placed the vibrator against my clit, I jumped, causing the clamps to bite harder into my tender nipples. I cried out in pleasure and pain and tried to focus on the sensations between my legs.
She plunged the toy deep inside me, and I arched my hips as much as I could. I threw my head back, and the clamps closed tighter.
“Please rub my clit,” I begged.
“What?”
“Please. My clit. Please.”
She pulled the vibrator out of me and knelt next to my ear. I heard the vibrator loud and clear and then it was muffled. Then loud again, then muffled. I listened as her cunt sucked it in deep over and over again until I thought I would burst. I strained again against my constraints, only to have them tighten around me.
I heard the toy buzzing loudly again and smelled the powerful scent of my lover’s arousal. Something hard traced my lips; then I tasted my partner as she shoved the coated vibrator into my mouth.
Before I could fully enjoy it, it was gone, and I lay there wondering what she had in store for me. Anticipation was growing as intensely as my clit. She took the chain out of my mouth just before I heard the bed creak and felt the moist warmth radiating from her pussy as she straddled my face, then lowered herself onto me.
I lapped greedily at her hot cunt, savoring every drop of juice that poured forth. She moved her clit between my lips, and I sucked and nibbled and tugged on it. Then her pussy was on me again, and I felt her rubbing her clit. Her thighs quivered and her cunt clenched my tongue as she climaxed again and again.
She climbed off of me, and I heard her fighting to catch her breath as I struggled with my own. Finally, she pried my thighs apart, causing the scarves to cut into my ankles. I felt the cool drip of the lube on my cunt and heard the distinctive snap of a latex glove. I felt her fingertips against my opening, then fullness as she drove her fingers inside me. The sensation of them twisting inside me made my pussy twitch. And then I was empty again.
I lay there in silence wondering what she was doing when suddenly my cunt was pummeled again, this time with more fingers. On
ce again, she pulled them out then quickly filled me again. I felt myself stretching to take her, and I knew more was on its way.
Finally, I was filled completely and felt her hand close inside of me as her knuckles pressed into my sensitive walls. She twisted and turned while pressing deeper and deeper with each thrust. I bucked against her as best I could, my head thrashing on the pillow as she fucked me harder and faster.
It seemed as if my clit must surely be the size of a golf ball by then, but it went untouched. I knew better than to plead for attention there. I didn’t want her stopping again. I was so close, but she knew I could only come when she rubbed my clit.
Still the hammering continued. I was bouncing on the bed. To hell with the pain of the constraints. I needed to come, and she was deliberately ignoring the throbbing mass of nerves that so desperately needed her.
Finally, when I thought my clit would burst open, I felt her mouth close on me. She sucked my clit between her teeth and flicked the tip of it with her tongue. My world went black before the bright colors burst behind my eyelids as, one after another, the orgasms ripped through my body.
I lay there exhausted and tender as she slipped her hand out. She left the room without a word, and I could only ask myself, What next?
THE VIRTUES OF BEING FORWARD
Veronica Wilde
The Phoenix summer morning was already hot when Elle got out of bed. It was just after seven A.M. as she padded into the living room and peered through the blinds. The Rainiers’ yard was still empty. She sighed and went into the kitchen.
She was still drowsy as she cut her grapefruit. She could have slept in today; her kids were in San Diego visiting their other mother, her ex-partner, Stephanie. These two weeks had been circled on the calendar for months with KIDS IN CA written across them. But in Elle’s mind the weeks were noted with a different command: GET LAID.
It had been a long time since she’d had sex. Embarrassingly long. But everyone over thirty seemed to already be coupled up around here and having kids made meeting women hard. Sometimes she made vague plans to hit up a bar—but the truth was, she was painfully shy. Her greatest fear was being too forward and getting rejected.