Hugh Flungit - Gay-Girl Games

“Please… no more… don't tease me… "

"All done. Come. Into the bedroom now."

And again she led and I followed-or was guided rather, out into the bedroom and onto the bed. Breathless with anticipation, I sank Into Its softness but was hardly conscious of the luxury, concentrating only on the fulfillment that was about to be mine at last. Even the overhead mirror failed to grab me, at least not until I caught a glimpse of my self-demeaning posture, lying there with my arms outstretched in a plea for haste. And then I shut my eyes and couldn't look any more unable to bear the vision of my own abasement. Arms up, begging… ugh…

"You just relax, Miss Sue. I'll attend to everything."

Relaxation was impossible, but I did manage to lower my arms and lie obediently pliant as she got on the bed and moved me this way and that, positioning my body to suit herself. It was an effort to remain still, though, and I whimpered and tossed my head at the first touch of her mouth, that open mouth upon my breast, hot and wet and almost painfully possessive. I felt her soft lips close and tighten around the nipple, leaving just room enough for her tongue to come into play and chafe the swollen tip to a rigid peak with maddeningly ingenious strokes. There was suction and pressure both at once, all in the same tenacious caress, and I could hear the loud smacking noises that seemed to break from the corners of her salivating mouth as she rolled her face around to strike and feast ravenously from every angle.

It was almost anticlimactic when she shifted to the other breast. My thighs started opening and closing of their own volition, obviously covetous of some of that excitement up there. I had waited too long now, my desire had been stoked to too high a pitch for me to have any control over such bodily responses; the inner heat was simply too intense.

As if she had gotten the message, Zona soon began a moist trail of slowly descending kisses that made my belly quiver and my volatile thighs strain even harder. I jammed the heels of both feet into the mattress and thrust my hips upward, urging her to hurry, demanding, imploring, beseeching, clamoring silently for deliverance from this terrible holocaust within me. And this time she understood exactly, ending the slow-motion charade to zoom in on the core of my accumulated need with that big thick tongue of hers. At last! So direct, so potent, so ravishingly thorough! It was as if my insides were being ripped apart, and yet each stroke was of such incomparably blissful magnitude that I prayed it would never stop. And then somehow even that degree of delight was surpassed as her powerful hands dug underneath to scoop my buttocks up high off the bed, scooping me up in handfuls and lifting my ass to feed that much more of my cunt into her insatiably munching mouth. While the deepest recesses of my body vibrated in rapturous rhythmic concert with the inspiring tip of that impossibly elongated tongue…

Suck me, fuck me, kill me with lesbian love!

It was a whopper. I must have blacked out for a few minutes-or perhaps even longer that was how grand the orgasm got. All those convulsive tremors, my own private earthquake! And then the misty aftermath, a time of drifting and dreaming on an unearthly astral plane-the result of a very earthy climax, no doubt. As engendered by the earthiest of women…

She was gone now, having thrown a bed sheet over me and vanished in the velvety mist. And once again, alone in this luxurious boudoir atmosphere, I began to feel like a poor little peasant girl mistaken for a princess. Lizabeth, where are you? Not that I was so anxious to see my royal-ass hostess now, not with this new burden of guilt weighing me down, another monkey on my back. As if I didn't have enough troubles! Even with that promise of discretion to tide me over, I had no illusions about secrecy and such. I'd never be able to keep it a secret from the bossy bitch goddess who had once dominated my life. Not when it happened here in her own house. Right here on her bed. Oh shit, what would I tell her, what could I say, what excuse could cover my shame? The mistress was out, so I settled for the maid?

I felt guilty, sure enough. Faithful in my fashion, kind of like a cheating wife. But at least I had found relief from that peculiar malaise of mine. A remedy of sorts, temporary at best. A lick and a promise, as it were. Sufficient for the nonce, though-except that I was strangely wide-awake now, not very sleepy at all. Doubtless the surroundings, I figured-so seductive to someone like me, so totally and relentlessly feminine. Almost sybaritic, all this voluptuous decor. Rather like Lizabeth herself. But sybaritic only with it lesbian orientation, of course. Hmm, yes indeed, rather like Lizabeth herself exclusively so, I assumed, now that friend husband had left her his wealth and passed on to a greater reward. (A dubious prospect, poor guy!) Lucky bitch. All this at her fingertips. A maid at her beck and call. Service. I was getting pretty envious just thinking about it.

The mirror grabbed me. I flipped the sheet off and struck a languorous pose, looking up at the glowing sensuality of my just-pampered body. Cooperative as ever, my hair had fallen into a naturally lovely pattern, spreading fanwise and spraying outward like the jets of a fountain. Beautiful. All around my beautiful face. But it was my body that had become the main attraction, my pampered body, and I thought about having a maid of my own to go on pampering it. A pretty one, though. Maybe even as pretty as that picture up there. A maid like myself? Hmm. If that didn't sound like the ultimate in vanity…

I flushed. How silly to be so captivated by my own image! I'd just bet Lizabeth was laughing at me right this minute. Just like she used to always with a lilt of gentle cynicism. Too bad I didn't have her here alongside me. And up there overhead! I considered the possibilities, aware of a little shiver of excitement. But no, I didn't want to get on that endless one-way track again. Vanity was a safer subject to explore. And it went farther back too long before we ever met, right back to childhood practically. Something to ponder, even if only to put myself to sleep. Besides, wouldn't it help me cope with the future if I examined the past? All of it, as much as I could remember, whatever seemed pertinent, the whole crazy scenario; why not?

Okay. I'd have to go back though, all the way back to the time of my blossoming beauty. You're so vain. Not that I hadn't always been beautiful, even as a tiny tot. But it was from Alix that I learned about sex, along with the uses and consequences of such beauty: Or through Alix, rather, since she didn't know any more about it than I did.

So long ago! We were in junior high then and a lot.less grown-up than any modern-day crop of kids. We had been friends awhile the best of childhood friends-Alix Moreau and Sue Daventry-but that one afternoon-changed everything. The afternoon of the new dress. That was when it really began. An evening gown for Alix to wear to the party. It was a family-type party, all relatives kind of a gathering of the clan; anyway, I didn't mind not being invited. I just envied her that dress and wondered aloud how it would look on me. A real honest-to-goodness evening gown, imagine.

"Put it on and see, why don't you? Go ahead. It might be too tight, though. The way you've filled out… "

Her judgment wasn't far wrong. I scowled disappointed. "I'd better not. Looks like a tough squeeze."

"How about if you strip to the skin? Your bra and panties could be the difference, huh? Sue? Don't be bashful. I just wish my body was half as nice as yours. Especially the boobs; mine just won't hurry up and grow. And yours keep getting bigger, you lucky girl. It's a good thing I'm your best friend otherwise I'd be real jealous, you know?"