The dildo's in both of them, thick and almost too hard, but neither of them will show it. They just let it fuck between them like they're fighting instead of having sex.
"You seem distressed, Emma doll," Jean says. To the eye, Emma has the same mix of flushed body and serene face as her, but under the surface thoughts, Emma's resolve is cracking. "This dildo's about as big as Scott. I'd have thought you'd be used to it."
Emma smiles back at her. "Scott can be gentle, you wild cow."
Jean thrusts harder. The dildo goes into her just as deep as it does Emma, but Emma's the one who shows it. "But you'd hate it if I were gentle, wouldn't you home-wrecker?"
Emma regrets the games they had played earlier, when the wine and the thrill of victory were flush in their heads. Jean had wanted to get right down to it, but Emma had insisted on maintaining her own little hierarchy.
***
"You can't expect me to let it in dry, can you?" Emma stood in front of Jean, absurdly poised with her top shoved down to her waist and lipstick smeared across her right breast. She sat down, holding the double dildo up like an offering. "Be a doll and lick it for me, Jean."
Jean stood there, fuming. She knew from Emma's thoughts that there was lubricant in the bedstand—in fact, Emma was picturing what she and Scott did with it right now—but that was a way of giving up, a way of saying Emma could do something she couldn't.
Jean bent down at the waist, letting Emma see down the blouse she still hadn't taken off, and took the dildo in her mouth. It tasted of leather and, faintly, of Emma. In absolute silence, she fellated it all the way to the back of her throat, then let it emerge perfectly wet from her plush red lips. There. Let Emma see she wasn't the only one who'd ever had sex.
"That good enough, Frosty?"
Emma was biting her lip. "It's... adequate."
***
