Mel Marshall: Two-way sisters

She slammed the door behind her as she left. Paul breathed a deep sigh and lighted a cigarette, watching the smoke curl up. He walked back to the front of the big living room and watched as Robin and Ron drove away.

What would she tell him about what had just happened? Paul considered carefully, trying to guess what was going on in her mind. He suspected she would say nothing directly to Ron about it. She would gloss over the details and give him some story, then say she had to move for some other reason. He felt sure of it.

He felt sure of something else, too. He was positive that Bobbi was pretty messed-up emotionally. He should have felt depressed and defeated at the moment; after all, he had just made a fumbling attempt to seduce a girl twenty years younger than himself. And it was true that she could get him in trouble if she wanted to. He also hadn't chosen a very good time or place for the first move in his campaign to bed down that infinitely attractive young girl. And she said she was leaving. That meant he'd have to find somebody else to take the upstairs room. But he didn't feel bad at all. In fact, he felt slightly elated.

Yes, she was pretty mixed-up all right. She had an air of self-assurance about her that would fool a lot of people, and an unmistakable sexual magnetism that was bound to attract men. But Paul suspected that underneath that carefully constructed exterior she was very uncertain of herself, and pretty insecure. Like a lot of people her age.

Paul wondered idly if Vicki already had something going tonight. He picked up the telephone and dialed her. She was in. She'd be positively delighted to spend an evening with him. Oh, and would he mind if she brought a girlfriend, a different one, who was visiting her for a few weeks? No, of course not. Good. They would be over in about forty-five minutes, Vicki had said, which just left him time to heat up something.

No, Bobbi was not the self-assured ball of fire she liked people to think she was. And neither was Paul the sort of pawing, crude, stud jock she thought he was. He knew that she was one confused girl.

He knew this because, just before her hands had come up to push him away, one hand had grasped him heatedly and pressed his midsection to hers. And her mouth had stayed open, yielding to him passionately, her fiery tongue meeting his willingly. And there was no mistaking that.

Ron pulled away from the curb smoothly, easing into second gear. He glanced over at Bobbi, who was combing her thick dark hair with fast, jerky motions. She looked agitated.

"What was all that about?" he asked.

"Oh, he says he's going to have to raise the rent," she lied. "And I thought there was some sort of understanding that it wouldn't happen as long as I lived there. He also invited me on a trip tomorrow, and I told him I didn't want to go. I can't help but think there's some connection between the two." It was a lie, she thought, but just a little one.

"It's, too bad you're going to have to leave," Ron said. "But I feel a little sorry for the poor guy."

"You feel sorry for him?" Bobbi's voice was indignant. "Why? What about me?"

"Oh, you can take care of yourself just fine. But he has to be around you all the time. And the sight of you has probably been driving him crazy all this time." He glanced over at the nubile body in the seat next to him. "I know it has me, and he probably sees more of you than I do."

He was more right than he knew, Bobbi thought. His admiring words helped erase the anger she felt and brought a strange tingle. It could have been worse. At least Ron wasn't like that. He was just as horny, true, and didn't take any pains to hide the fact. But at least if she let him know for sure that she was serious about him not touching her past a certain point, he paid attention. Maybe grudgingly sometimes, but he did pay attention.

The problem was what she was going to do about Mr. Giddings. She could be all packed and ready to move in a matter of a couple days. If she could find another place, that is. And that wasn't going to be easy with school just about to start. But she had an idea.

"Ron, I really don't want to go back to my apartment tonight. I'm afraid he might… you know, try something. So would it be OK if I stayed at your place, just for tonight?"

He was surprised. He had been suggesting just that for months, but with no success. And here she was, finally taking him up on it.

"How do you know I won't try something?" he said mischievously.

"I don't. But you'd better watch out. I have sharp elbows and knees." She lifted one leg for his examination. "See?"

Her mood had taken a change for the better, and he was glad to see it. He put his hand on her leg. Her skin was cool to his touch, incredibly soft and alluring. His cock responded.

"Hmmmm, you're right. But I still wouldn't turn down the chance to tangle with one of these."

Bobbi only laughed and snuggled a little closer to him, putting her arm around his shoulder. She was glad the restaurant was only a few blocks further ahead. She was ravenous. It had been a long, exciting day.

Dianne awoke with a start. She had been dreaming. It had been a long, delicious sex dream. In it, a beautiful young woman with a model-like figure had been going down on her; an improbably long and flexible tongue had been whipping around and around her quaking cunt. She had writhed in unbelievable pleasure as the rough tongue rasped against her outstretched clit.

Finally the oral prick dipped into her, gathering every bit of the honey that oozed from her palpitating cuntal walls. The mouth left her, and she hung for what seemed like forever in a warm cloud of horniness. Then she felt two breasts press against hers as a warm, wet pussy pound against her own. The other woman's upright clit entered her and moved. The cunt-busting fury of the movement made her come and come and come.

Jesus, what a filthy dream! She opened her eyes and looked over at the bedside clock. It was almost three in the morning. Wasn't there any way she could rid her mind of the filthy lesbian thoughts which kept popping up? They wouldn't even leave her alone when she was sleeping. It was especially odd considering how well and how much she had been fucked tonight. There was really no excuse for her dream.

She stretched herself, delighting lazily in the play of her muscles against each other. No, there is really no excuse at all, she thought. I guess I'm really in heat right now. Her movements made her aware of the moisture at her crotch.

She considered waking Dave up to ease her wanting cunt, but decided not to. He had been exhausted by their fucking. She didn't want to wake him when he had to get up so early tomorrow and take that chartered plane to Phoenix to close some big deal his boss had going down there.

Damn. She'd like some nice, hard prick in her right now.

She knew she should be asleep. But the direction her thoughts were taking aroused her even more. For a while she tried to drift back into a sleepy frame of mind, but every time she let her mind go the same series of erotic thoughts popped up. The dream kept creeping back into her head.

It was no use. She would have to force herself to sleep or else wake Dave. She got up, went into the kitchen, and poured herself a strong whisky and water. She went out and sat down on the couch, sipping slowly.

She was startled by the ringing of the doorbell. She went over to the door and eased it open a crack. It was a relief to see Bobbi standing there under the porch light. But Dianne was also surprised.

"Bobbi! What are you doing here? Come on in." Bobbi entered, looking downcast and tired. "What's the matter?"

"Dianne, the whole day has been a disaster. After I left here, I…" She stopped. Her head was spinning around, and she could barely keep things straight in her own mind, much less relate them coherently to her sister. She felt terribly confused, and she wasn't even sure which feeling in the swirling turmoil she really felt.