Chapter Four: Saturday, March 21.
I lifted the fabric cover off of the mason jar and sniffed. The lumpy, gluey mass of George's sourdough starter had started to look a bit suspect, and I was irritated that he was feeding so much of our rationed flour to this creature every day. I had to smile, though, at the thought of insatiable appetites outgrowing confinement.
George and Peter had gone to the market early--hoping to replenish our flour, among other things--and the house was quiet, with Katherine still sleeping upstairs. I was grateful for the silence as I padded around the kitchen, feeling a pleasant soreness around the edges of my cunt.
Peter.
My lower belly tightened, and heat rose on my cheeks as I remembered the sensation of his cock stretching me out at an unfamiliar angle. It had felt so good to be fucked by someone other than George, and I still couldn't quite believe that our foursome had actually happened--it felt a bit dreamlike and hazy, although the soreness of my stretched lips and and a lingering sweetness of perfume--Katherine's, I assumed--were tangible reminders.
"Good morning, Sonya." Katherine's voice startled me, and I turned around. She was standing a bit awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen in a pair of terry-cloth shorts and a loose tank top, clearly also unshowered. Her long dark hair was piled on top of her head, showing off her long neck and the milky skin of her dΓ©colletage. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her large breasts curved naturally under the tank top. My eyes rested on their fullness as I imagined walking over and cupping their smoothness in my hands, reaching down into her waistband to check to see if she was wearing underwear.
"Morning." I was enjoying how she was shifting her weight back and forth from foot to foot. "Cold?" I asked, making a point of looking at her nipples, which were just beginning to be visible under the loose fabric.
Her freckled cheeks flushed. "Maybe a little." She walked into the kitchen and moved over to the uncovered jar on the counter. "Aren't you worried that George will be mad that you touched his starter?"
I smirked. She was obviously trying to regain some of her lost composure from the previous afternoon. "I don't think he'll notice. And if he does, well . . . " I met her gaze, and then turned around, watching her over my shoulder as I moved my hand to my dance shorts, lightly rubbing my ass. I knew she would be able to see at least one purple bruise whose edges extended beyond the minimal fabric.
Katherine laughed, relaxing her posture a bit. I could also see her eyes narrow in pleasure at the sight of the bruise, and I thought she might be imagining what it would be like to have George mark her ass.
Pouring Katherine a cup of coffee, I turned toward her. "I was also seriously asking if you were cold, because I was thinking of lighting a fire and having a bit of a stretch in the living room. I'm a little stiff from yesterday."
"Me too," Katherine said, rubbing the top of her shoulder. I watched as her tank top rode up a bit, exposing her rounded belly. One of the things I had learned yesterday was how soft my friend's skin was, and I had enjoyed watching the way her hips dimpled under George's hands while I explored her ass with my tongue. "And a fire sounds lovely."
We took our coffees into the living room, and I set about piling wood into the fireplace. Katherine flopped down onto the soft looped carpet, propping herself up on her elbows to work the previous Saturday's crossword.
Once the fire was going, I sat down beside it, leaning my back against the wall, and admired my friend's backside. She was biting her lip in concentration, and had one leg bent at the knee, showing off her shapely calves. I stretched my own long legs out in front of me, nudging one of her arches with a painted toe. She looked up from the crossword. "Fuck, Sonya, how am I ever going to concentrate on anything else ever again?"
"You mean because of the virus?" I said sweetly. "I read that it's totally normal to have fragmented attention. We are all processing a lot."
"No, you jerk, because now that we are all fucking, it's the only thing I want to do!"
"Oh, that." I smiled, moving my toe to her ankle bone.
"And it's really confusing," Katherine went on. "Because even though I feel, like, completely turned on since Wednesday, I'm also nervous. And I don't know if it's just regular low-level Covid anxiety, or worry about becoming submissive, or concern that our friendship might change. Also, I've never been with a woman before, and Peter hasn't ever said anything about wanting to blow another man, and it's kind of a lot, you know? What if we get sick of fucking, or of being trapped in this house together?"
I scooted closer to Katherine on the floor as she turned onto her side to face me. I reached over to her shoulder and brushed some of her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear. Propped up on her elbow and reclined on one side, Katherine's breasts pressed together, threatening to escape from the low cut neckline of her tank top.
"Well," I started, "aside from the very legitimate sense of impending doom we all feel right now, I don't think you need to worry about our group. This feels like the right thing for the moment, and just because we are fucking now, doesn't mean we have to commit to this arrangement forever. Plague time is different."
I ran the back of my hand lightly over her top nipple through the thin fabric, making her sigh.
"Now the sub stuff, I get that it's a bit unnerving if you haven't played with it much before. Is there anything in particular that's worrying you? Do the bruises scare you?"
Katherine bit her lower lip. "No, it isn't the bruises. The night that George was spanking you and Peter and I were listening and fucking, I came harder than I have in a very long time. I wanted that to be my ass. Like I told you, I've been fantasizing about just being told what to do, and I'll gladly take the bruises as proof that I'm someone else's pet for awhile!"
She looked into my eyes. "But there is something else." Reaching her free hand between my knees where I was sitting, Katherine ran a finger over my crotch, feeling the swell of my lips underneath my skin-tight shorts.
I shivered. "Go on," I encouraged her.