Love Hurts

[This story follows on from Goodnight, Sweetheart, continuing to explore the relationship between a submissive lesbian and her dominant male best friend. Be aware, this story involves lesbian-to-straight orientation play, public humiliation, exhibitionism, mild nonconsent and some pissing. Avoid if any of that troubles you.

All characters involved in sexual situations are aged over 18.]

*******

Lara phoned me just before noon. I wasn't expecting her call. It was a warm, sunny Saturday, and all I intended to do was relax. We hadn't planned anything together for this weekend, having seen each other twice in the previous week. I wanted to give her a chance to spend some time with her girlfriends.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" I asked.

"Not really," she replied flatly.

I could immediately hear the exhaustion in her voice. Her work as a freelance fashion stylist was going fairly well, but I knew she was struggling to handle the rising workload. She was a one-woman operation trying to get ahead in a very competitive industry, and while she was smart and hardworking, she wasn't a miracle worker. She had one particularly difficult and demanding client who seemed to take pleasure in wasting her time. That situation, she told me, had now gone from bad to drastically worse.

"Nothing I do is ever good enough for her," Lara lamented. "I can't just drop her as a client, she's the best-paying account I have. She's totally fucked up my schedule for next week with all these last-minute changes. Every email from her is like a mini panic attack. I'm going crazy here, Josh, I haven't felt so stressed out in years. I actually started crying halfway through breakfast."

"Well, La, I've got a shoulder here you can cry on," I told her warmly. And something else you can ride on, I thought. "Come over to my place, I don't have anything planned today. Let me take care of you."

"Oh, no, I don't want to impose on you," she said. "I just called to vent, honestly."

"You could never impose on me, sweetheart," I promised her. "Come right over. It would make my Saturday."

She showed up at my apartment an hour later, looking sleep-deprived, fragile and completely adorable. She was dressed tomboyishly in loose skater-girl jeans and a checked yellow flannel shirt. We shared a long, tender kiss in the doorway before I brought her in to the living room.

"Thanks for letting me come here," she sighed, slipping off her sneakers to curl up barefoot on my sofa. "I can't tell you how much better I feel, just seeing your face. I needed to get out of my head."

"It's amazing how much good a change of scene can do you," I said. I sat down next to her, slid my arm around her skinny shoulders and kissed her on the lips. "I think I know something that will help you forget all about that bitch. The most reliable stress-relief technique in the world."

"Oh? What's that?" Lara said. Judging by the twinkle in her eye, I daresay she already knew.

I gave her an unashamedly lustful grin. "Come to my room, lie yourself down and let me eat the ever-loving fuck out of your pussy."

Lara laughed sweetly. "That does sound like it would lower my stress levels."

"Absolute satisfaction, or your money back," I told her.

*

In my bedroom, I took my time undressing Lara, kissing and fondling her pale, flawless skin as I exposed her inch by inch. She was tense at first, a bundle of frayed nerves, but she relaxed more and more beneath my loving fingers. After unbuttoning her shirt to bare her small, shapely breasts, I sucked tenderly on each ghost-pink nipple, hearing her sigh in contentment. I had been her on-and-off lover for over a year now, and I knew exactly how she liked to be touched.

I helped her out of her jeans and caressed her slim, delicate thighs, before tugging down her panties and exposing her lightly-furred vulva. Her pussy was the only thing about her that wasn't tiny and neat -- thick, fleshy, flowery labia, crowned by a large and very suckable clit -- but I found that contrast delightful. I stroked those long lips, coating my fingertips with her creamy wetness, and fingered her slowly and gently, listening to her breathing grow quick with arousal. Then, as promised, I knelt between her outstretched legs and put my tongue to work.

Her pussy smelled and tasted delicious, as usual. She hissed my name and rocked her hips against my busy mouth as I lapped and kissed and suckled. I teased and toyed with her big clit, making her shiver and writhe with pleasure. Her thighs squeezed around my head, desperately holding me in position, not that I had any intention of pulling away. Her first orgasm gushed wetly into my face within minutes. A second, even more intense orgasm followed soon after, then a third, as I tormented her pretty cunt with my tongue. I only stopped when she moaned that she couldn't take any more. As a finale, I moved up her body to kiss her, making her taste her own sweet juices on my lips. She lay back in happy, panting exhaustion, mumbling her heartfelt thanks.

We lay together on the bed -- her naked, me almost fully clothed -- while she caught her breath. I ran my fingers through her short dark hair and stroked her cheek with quiet fondness. I loved the softness of her skin and her drowsy, satisfied expression. She was such a beautiful woman, my Lara.

"Do you wanna go for a walk? Get some sunshine?" I suggested, gently. "It's beautiful out today."

She nodded. "A walk would be nice." She planted a tiny, grateful kiss on my lips before rising off the bed and picking her discarded clothes up off the floor. I lounged on the bed and watched her dress, admiring her slender body with a thoughtful smile. She seemed so relaxed now, safe and at peace in my presence.

She had put her jeans back on, and was buttoning up her flannel shirt, when I decided it was time to have some real fun. Time to remind her to never get too complacent around me.

"Lara, what the fuck?" I exclaimed suddenly. I got up off the bed and feigned a look of deep concern, as if I'd caught her about to do something incredibly dangerous. "What do you think you're doing?"

She stared at me in confusion, taken aback by my aggressive tone after I'd been so gentle with her minutes before. "I'm just getting dressed-"

"I'm not fucking blind, sweetheart," I snapped, pacing closer to her. She flinched a little. God, I loved how easy it was to intimidate her. "What I mean is, why are you dressing like that?" I gestured at that cute flannel shirt.

Lara's eyes widened. She knew where this was going. We'd done this before, as part of our multifaceted, ever-expanding game. "Oh, Josh, no. Please. Not again."

Ignoring her protests, I grabbed her skinny arm and examined the sleeve of her shirt with open contempt. "Flannel shirt, baggy jeans...these are dyke clothes, La," I declared, as if my word was law. "And you're not a dyke. I can't stand false advertising."

She tried weakly to pull her arm away. "Don't do this. I hate it, you know I hate it."

"And I hate seeing you cover up that pretty body," I retorted. The rich taste of her pussy was still in my mouth. "It's bad enough that you pretend you're a lesbian. Your girlfriends might let you walk around dressed like some off-brand Sixties beatnik. But don't fucking dare try it around me. Now take off that shirt."

Lara shook her head, mumbling some pathetic attempt at defiance.

"Take it off!" I snarled at her. I enjoyed it when she tried to stand up for herself. She was totally useless at it, and it just made me want to bully her even more. My cock was stiffening steadily inside my trousers.

Lara looked down at the floor, a very cute expression of dismay on her face. Slowly, she unbuttoned her flannel shirt and let it drop to the floor, leaving her little tits on display again.

"Good girl. Now the jeans," I instructed her.

She unfastened those baggy denims and stepped awkwardly out of them. She was left standing there in only her plain cotton panties, eyeing me anxiously as she waited for my next command. I already knew she wasn't going to say our safeword. She never did. The only limits on our game were the ones I imposed, and those could be very flexible indeed.

"Panties off too, La," I said, after ogling her delicate body for a few pleasant moments. As she hesitantly obeyed, I turned to the wardrobe to find her some more appropriate attire.

There was a drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe which was reserved for Lara. She stayed over so often now that it made sense for her to keep some spare clothes at mine. It saved her from having to make a morning walk of shame after our frequent unplanned hookups. But there were a few items in that drawer that I'd chosen for her, and not as gifts.

Now completely naked, Lara looked on with increasing alarm as I pulled out the clothes I wanted her to wear. A pastel-pink skirt so short it covered basically nothing. A tiny sleeveless tank top that would be indecently tight even on her slender frame. Patterned black fishnet tights with the crotch largely torn away, providing invitingly easy access.

"These suit you much better," I said, handing the outfit to her with a cruel smile. "You're a straight girl, sweetheart, and a total fucking slut of one. You should dress accordingly."

She took the clothes, but gave me one last imploring look. Hoping that I might relent, even though she knew I wouldn't. "I...I can't wear these."

"You can. You have. You will," I said flatly. "Now put them on. Slowly."

She obeyed, stepping into the miniature skirt and pulling on the top. She sniffled a little as she dressed herself, blinking away a few tears. I watched with a lecherous smile, my cock throbbing hard with impatience. And I could see that, despite herself, Lara was turned on too. Her nipples poked up insistently through the tissue-thin fabric of the tank top. This was another kind of stress relief for her, the joy of complete submission.

When she was fully dressed (or rather, barely dressed), I stepped up to her and kissed her fondly on the lips. As I did so, I slid one hand under her top to fondle her tits. "Good girl. You look gorgeous like that. Even better than last time."

"I look like a prostitute," she moaned.

"Don't be silly, La," I chuckled. I gave one of her perky little breasts a quick, mean squeeze. "Prostitutes get paid. You give yourself up to me for free. A whore has more self-respect than you do."

"Please don't make me go out like this again," she entreated me. "Let me stay in, I'll do whatever you want. I...I can't go around town wearing this. It was so awful last time. Everyone stared."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to waste this nice weather. It's forecast to be grey skies all next week. And you're so pale, La, you need more vitamin D." I kissed her more deeply, forcing her to accept my tongue into her mouth. "Actually, I was thinking we might walk around Izzy's neighbourhood. We could go pay her a visit. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"No!" she begged. She squirmed in my embrace, trying to break free with all of her strength. Which is to say, with no strength whatsoever. All she achieved was making my cock even harder. "Please, no. She can't see me like this."

"You're so fucking selfish, Lara." I tightened my grip on her, easily suppressing her struggles. "You won't let your favourite girlfriend see you dressed up so nicely? I don't know why she puts up with you at all. It's bad enough she has to lick my cum out of your pussy every time you visit." I thought back to the time Izzy and Lara had slept over at my place, how I'd forced myself on Lara while her oblivious girlfriend snored nearby. My ultimate goal was to one day fuck Lara right in front of Izzy. I liked to think that day was gradually drawing closer.

"Please, Josh. She'd hate me. She'd never speak to me again," Lara protested. "She wants me and her to go exclusive. She doesn't know I sleep with you."

"You don't sleep with me, La. I fuck you. Get the terminology right," I sneered. "Well, if you don't wanna visit Izzy, how about we go see one of your brothers instead? Damian, maybe, or Zeke? They're just down the road. What a lovely surprise for them, to see their precious baby sister all dressed up in fishnets." I grinned at her look of deepening horror. "Or, I know what! Let's go to your parents' house for some coffee. Your dad's such a great guy. I bet he'd love to see his little girl showing off her tits like a fucking back-alley slut."

"I'll do anything," Lara sniffled. If I hadn't been holding her against me, she probably would have dropped to her knees to beg me. Which would have put her in an excellent position for a blowjob, come to think of it. "Please. Anything you want. Just don't make me do that."

I gave a long sigh, as if she was being deeply inconvenient for me. I withdrew my hand from under her top. "Alright, La. If it means that much to you, we'll stay close to here. Just a little walk around the area. No surprise visits."

"Thankyou," she mumbled. But she didn't have long to be grateful, because I swiftly slid my hand up under her tiny pink skirt. She gasped as my fingers found her bare pussy lips, left exposed and vulnerable by those torn fishnets. I slid one questing fingertip into the warm tightness of her vagina, being much more forceful than I had been before, and was unsurprised to find her soaking wet. She mewled and squirmed ineffectually as I probed her.

"There is one thing I think we should do before we go," I told her matter-of-factly. I began to pull her towards the bed, still casually fingering her. "I need some stress relief of my own. And you're the nearest pussy to hand."

"Please don't," she whined, as I laid her down on the duvet where I'd so recently licked her pussy. Ignoring her, I pushed her fishnet-clad legs apart and shoved up the hem of her skirt. She wriggled a little bit, to no avail. "I really don't feel like it right now, Josh, can't you wait till-"

"Selfish." I kissed her lips to silence her pleading. "You should learn to reciprocate, Lara. Good girls don't say no."

I unbuttoned my trousers and shucked them down. My cock sprang out, long and hard and fat and happy. It was so erect it almost hurt. I stroked its thick head against the flowering lips of Lara's vagina, enjoying the trembling heat and wetness, and revelling in her yearning moan. She couldn't help herself; her pussy wanted me so badly.

"I don't understand it, sweetheart," I said in exaggerated wonderment. I slid my tip inside her, a gentle exploration that promised an invasion. "If you're a lesbian, why do you get so nice and wet for my cock?"

"I told you, I'm pansexual-" Lara broke off into a long groan of reluctant pleasure as I abruptly slid my whole length into her cunt. Her marvellous soft warmth welcomed me, superbly tight and snug. We'd been fucking so frequently the last couple months that she was finally adjusting to my size. Maybe I was still a bit too thick for her, but that just made it even better. Better for me, at least.

Pinning her beneath me, I thrust deep, easily bottoming her out. She was the woman I loved -- I think we both knew it, even if it remained unspoken -- but for the moment, she was just a warm, wet vagina for me to use. I enjoyed the helpless look on her face as my long strokes stretched her out. Her marvellous inner muscles embraced my cock. It must have been so humiliating for her how her body responded on this subconscious level, taking pleasure in her violation.

I sped up, hammering her hot little pussy with no regard for her comfort. I'd been gentle and considerate when I ate her out. Now it was my turn to enjoy myself, and there was nothing Lara could do but lie there and take it. She squirmed feebly underneath my hard, rapid thrusts. I knew she was going to see Izzy tomorrow; I wanted to make sure she was sore and tender for it.

"What are you, La?" I growled, pounding her into the bed.

"A fake lesbian," she moaned. I had drilled those words into her psyche over the past year, reshaping her sexuality a little more with every fuck. Now, whenever she was with Izzy or one of her other girlfriends, she couldn't help but think of me. "Josh, I'm a fake lesbian."

"And whose are you?" I kneaded her tiny breasts underneath the tank top as I fucked her. "Whose little straight slut are you?"

"I'm...I'm yours." Lara shuddered and tensed up, her pussy pulsing around my thrusting cock. I grinned in hard triumph and kissed her gasping mouth. I loved how easy it was to force her to cum.

"Good girl," I breathed in her ear. Then I came too, slamming as deep inside her as I could go to pump my cum into her sweet cunt. Her soft walls gripped me as my cock spurted ropes of semen. I kissed her insatiably through the waves of dizzy pleasure. She moaned in confused, frightened ecstasy as she felt herself filled up with my seed. Her weak struggles only made the pleasure more intense. I didn't tell her that I loved her, but, God, I wanted to.

I stayed inside her just long enough to remind her that she belonged to me. Then I pulled out, quickly and nonchalantly, and stepped back to examine the sticky mess I'd made of her pretty pussy. She was so flooded with my cum it looked like she'd taken a whole room worth of guys in one go. She panted for breath, sniffling weakly as she gazed up at me with those big dark eyes. She looked so young, so vulnerable, I almost felt bad about the humiliation I was going to subject her to. Almost.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit rough, sweetheart," I said. I stroked her thigh and smiled at her with casual, mocking affection. "It's just, you know, you're dressed very provocatively."

*

I didn't let Lara clean herself up afterwards. I didn't even let her pee, though she whined that she really needed to go. I led her out of my apartment and down to street level with her clothes creased and rumpled, and my semen glistening on her inner thigh. I wanted everyone we passed to know that I'd just fucked her.

The sun was high and bright overhead, glinting off the shopfronts and the windows of parked cars. The streets weren't especially busy for such a warm day, but they were far from empty. I held Lara's hand very tightly as we walked along the sunlit pavement, ensuring she couldn't wriggle away.

We had barely gone a hundred yards from my apartment building when a wolf-whistle echoed across the street. Lara flinched. I looked aside and saw a trio of young men, high school seniors maybe, walking along on the opposite pavement. They were staring at Lara with eager, pervy eyes, grinning and muttering to each other.

"Look, La. You've got some admirers," I said cheerfully.

"Oh, God," Lara mumbled. She blushed an adorable cherry-red, staring down at her shoes. The boys snickered loudly at her obvious embarrassment.

"Aren't you going to wave to them?" I teased her. "Don't be so shy. I bet they'd love to get to know you."

"They're staring, oh, God, they're staring at me." Lara fidgeted pitifully. With me holding her hand and leading her along, there was little she could do to cover herself up. The tightness of her top meant that her perky nipples were very much on show, and her skirt was so short even a mild breeze would have exposed her bare, freshly-fucked pussy.

"Why don't you explain to them that you're a lesbian, sweetheart?" I suggested. "Go up to them and say you only like girls, and you don't want attention from men. I'm sure they'll believe you." I gave a mean chuckle at her distressed expression. "Sure, you're dressed like you want to get raped, and you have my cum dripping out of your pussy, but that doesn't matter, right?"

Lara tried to speed up her pace, to get away from the leering boys more quickly, but I didn't let her. I held her hand tightly and forced her to walk slow, ensuring they got a very good look at her barely-clothed body. A few of their crude remarks reached us across the street -- "fucking slut", "look at those little tits", "bet she's tight as fuck", stuff like that. Poor Lara would probably be hearing those words in her dreams tonight.