Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia (5 page)

BOOK: Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia
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She met Tommy at a bar near Sixth Street. Tommy had been one of Sophia’s co-workers when they both worked for that behemoth software company near Seattle. Both had gotten in at the right time, made a nice fat chunk of change, and gotten out in order to find something both felt was a bit more interesting than writing code. Tommy had found paragliding. She now traveled the world leaping off the sides of cliffs and flying off into space screaming, “AAaaaiiieeeeeee!” each and every time. She was also a stunningly big beautiful bald black woman with a penchant for strap-ons, very large strap-ons that she wielded with enthusiasm. A former collegiate sprinter, she had the stereotypical sprinter’s high ass which Sophia, every once in a blue moon, also loved to pleasure. But usually they got together so Tommy could ram and ram and ram at Sophia and Sophia could be rammed and rammed and rammed. They were a great fuckbuddy team.

She saw Tommy at the far end of the bar and met her gaze. Tommy had on black jeans, a black T-shirt with a giant skeleton hand-inked on the front, a ring on one of its bony fingers, and a pair of black short boots. She gave her a smile and a little tilt of the head. “Hellooooo, Gorgeous!” Tommy murmured into her ear as they embraced. “You want a festive alcoholic beverage or you want to get right down to fuckin’?”

“Fuck me.”

They left the bar, hopped into Tommy’s silver Audi, and drove the four blocks to her place. She lived in an old 1930’s building that still had that whiff of cocktails and mink coats. Once inside, Sophia noticed the new dark blue leather Jeffrey Bernett sofa and ivory leather Womb Chair. The walls were bare save for two prints: a thirty-dollar Nayoun Kim print Tommy found on Society6.com and a Picasso. A real Picasso.

“You’ve redone the place ... I see the art hasn’t changed.”

“Back off the art, sister.”

They moved directly to the bedroom where Tommy had a black leather and stainless steel sling set up at just the right height. She turned to Sophia and peeled off her dress with one hand, pulling her head back with the other and covering her mouth with her own. The first touch of tongues was electric, sending a shiver through their bodies and making them push deeper. Their tongues dueled inside Sophia’s mouth. Tommy pulled away and took her jeans off. She folded them and put them over a chair, then her shirt. Her lace bra and panties she took off and deposited in the rattan hamper in the corner of the room. Yes, she was still the tidy bitch she always was when they got together. Sophia loved this about Tommy. Engulfed in passion, she still had to put her blazer on a hanger.

Tommy turned to Sophia and lifted her up, finding her nipple with her luscious mouth. She suckled softly, letting the nip pop in and out and recapturing it over and over again. She licked and was torn between getting Sophia out of the bra to have more access to her entire breast and being driven crazy by that little pink nip sticking out of that sea of black rubber. She decided she liked being driven crazy. Her hands wandered south and caressed Sophia’s fabulous latex-covered ass. She found the tiny asshole opening and rubbed her knuckle back and forth over it. Sophia moaned. Tommy toppled her into the sling.

Legs parted crookedly, Sophia watched as Tommy went to a drawer, opened it and removed a large blue cock and a leather and spandex harness. She stepped into it, fastening the harness tightly around her ample thighs and waist, as she strode back over to Sophia. The
cock looked like one of those mini bats they hand out at baseball games. After slathering on some lube, she laid it between Sophia’s legs without ceremony. The slit in the rubber panties parted to reveal that beautiful raw beef look of Sophia’s cunt. Tommy rubbed the slick head of the dick back and forth through the folds of her lips.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the spot. Mmmm. That. Is. The. Spot.”

Tommy began to push and rock and her cock began sliding into Sophia inch-by-inch.

“Tommy, just slam me, honey, slam into me now. I can’t wait.”

Tommy eased her cock out, then shoved it home.

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” Sophia cried out. “Jesusgod, you are good!”

Tommy pushed again and Sophia cried out again. They hit a rhythm, Tommy untiring and Sophia opening to the giant cock assaulting her. She felt the wave begin near the top of her head and crash all the way down her body, sending tremors cascading over her, jerking her like a marionette as she came. Tommy began shaking slightly as she pushed, then more intensely as she, too, felt herself coming. “Coming. NOW. OH, SHIT! COMING NOW, GIRL! COMING NOW! Aaaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Tommy sucked in her breath, jerked her hips a few times more, then added her trademark move: a sort of careening jostle-twist that never failed to make her come again.

“Aaaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

And again…

“Aaaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

And again…

“Aaaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee-ee-ee!”

Sophia tumbled out of the sling, wiped between her legs with a plush gray towel from the bathroom, lifted the little red sequined number over her head, and let it fall down around her.

“How much did you pay for that sling? Whatever it was, it was too much, unless you learn to use it more properly.”

“Money is no object,” Tommy replied.

 

8

 

W
ILLOW WAS RUNNING LATE.

Fuck it. Fuck them!
she thought as she scurried along the sidewalk as fast as she could in her four-inch Jeffrey Campbells. She was already late for work, but she still turned and yanked the door of the Starbuck’s open and strode in. She got in line. “Fuuuucck. A line,” she said under her breath. She rummaged in her purse for a twenty as she finally approached the front of the line and said automatically, “Double macchiato with whip. Cheese Danish,” found the twenty, pulled it out and looked up right into the eyes of Porsche.

“May I ... ” Porsche’s eyes widened. “Oh, shiiit.”

“Double macchiato with whip and a cheese Danish,” Willow said again and smirked. But she was glad to see Porsche—or maybe just glad to see Porsche behind the counter of a Starbuck’s slinging coffee and pastries. She wasn’t sure.

Porsche called out the coffee order, rang it up, and took Willow’s twenty. Silently, she counted out the change. She went to the case and returned with a small paper bag containing—not one, but two—cheese Danish. Willow took the bag and went over to wait for the coffee.

“I’m taking a ten minute break,” Porsche told her manager and ran from behind the counter to catch Willow who was heading for the door.

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

“So, my secret’s out—I have a shitty job,” Porsche said lamely.

“My apartment’s around the corner from here,” Willow said. “I have to go to work ... but on my way home why don’t I stop by and fetch you and we can go have a glass of wine and discuss ... oh, how good I am at making you come or the pros and cons of being a sub ... or something.”

Porsche smiled and nodded. She grabbed Willow’s hand and wrote her number on it with her Starbuck’s pen. “I might get fired today ... you never know with me. So, call and I’ll meet you out front.”

 

Willow was super late now and she bit her lip as she tried trotting in her ridiculously high shoes.

I really should get sensible shoes like the other attorneys ... Screw that. Who wants to show up in court in Easystride?

“You’re late,” her assistant, Pearl, began, “but you are also blessed with great luck. Your court appearance got postponed. And why are we late? Oh, Starbuck’s, that’s why we are late. I see. No, it’s understandable. We only have a Breville
right here
at the office. We only have half-and-half and full and 2% and 1% and almond milk in the fridge. And real whipped cream in one of those cool aluminum pressurized canisters ... remember Christmas?”

Willow rushed past Pearl and into her office. She set down her coffee and whipped out her phone. She transferred the number from her hand into it.

“Pearl, do we have a towelette?”

“Yes,
we
have towelettes.” Pearl appeared, popping the lid on the Wet Ones.

Willow looked up, saw the container, and snorted out a laugh.

Pearl looked confused.

“Wet Ones. It just ... reminded me of something,” Willow explained.

The day lasted longer than she’d hoped, and it wasn’t until 6:30 that she was able to call Porsche to let her know she was on her way.

“I thought you might have changed your mind.”

“No, no,” Willow sighed. “It’s just my job ... it’s ... long hours are involved.”

They greeted each other awkwardly with a half hug in front of Starbuck’s, then headed down the sidewalk to Willow’s place.

When they arrived at the downtown apartment, Porsche said, “Oh, is this your parent’s place?” She never imagined someone as young as Willow could afford a two-bedroom, two-bath in the middle of the city.

Willow was equally embarrassed to be able to afford such a pretentious place, but lying wasn’t her forte and she replied honestly, “It’s mine.” And then, seeing Porsche’s face, she did lie. “I’m a trust fund baby ... ”

Porsche looked relieved.

Willow sat down and took off her Joseph Campbells and rubbed the arches of her feet. Porsche walked over and fell to the floor in front of Willow. “Here, let me do that for you.” She began rubbing Willow’s feet with her strong hands. Then she bent down and began kissing and licking the tops of her feet, her arch, her toes. Licking and sucking and throwing in the occasional gentle bite. Willow fell back in her chair and sighed. Porsche moved from her feet to her legs and up over the knees to those creamy welcoming thighs. She spread Willow’s legs gently open and pushed up her skirt. She pulled the lace underwear she found there into her mouth and sucked it, enjoying the smell. She wrestled the panties to one side and pushed her face into the neatly trimmed bush of Willow, inhaling strongly.

“Wait!” Willow exclaimed, pulling Porsche’s head back. “Wait ... I ... there’s something I have to tell you before you continue, it’s important.”

Porsche steeled herself for rejection, for a confession from Willow of being diseased or deformed or only into men, although none of those made sense since Porsche had already supped on Willow at Sophia’s and everything had been in order.

“I’m ... I’m ... I’m not a trust fund baby!” Willow wailed. “I’m a fucking partner in a law firm and I also own a place in London!” Then she fell back exhausted and ashamed.

“A lawyer? You?” Porsche laughed. “A house in London, huh? Well, take me there!”

“It’s just a flat! An apartment ... It’s ... it’s fucking awesome and it’s in the middle of fucking Knightsbridge!”

“Get your pussy back here!” Porsche demanded and tugged at Willow’s hips. She stuck her face back into Willow’s pussy and said, “Knbrlonyofngct.”

Willow pulled her head out once more. “What?”

I said, “Knightsbridge London, you fucking cunt!” and they smiled at each other and Porsche went back to work on Willow’s pussy, licking and sucking on the lips, and at the tops of her thighs, avoiding the clit, letting the tension mount. She took a lip into her mouth and sucked very gently, then just held it, tasting Willow and enjoying the feel of the lip’s slight swelling in her mouth. Then she gently released it and took hold of the other side, repeating the gesture. Going slow, slow, slow this time, savoring her, not like last time where she wanted to conquer the girl, but leisurely eating and sucking and munching on this fabulous pussy in front of her, feeling her own pussy drip from the taste and smell of Willow in her mouth and nostrils. She felt Willow rise slightly off the chair and knew she wanted more and wanted it now. She teased the sides of the clit, moving the hood back and forth with a practiced tongue, circling it, moving in closer and closer then out again, wider circles until finally she placed the tip of her tongue directly on it.

BOOK: Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia
12.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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