(This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. All characters are … well, you figure it out for yourself. Feedback is welcome, esp. from like-minded Dommes and Subs!)
Part 3
"Are you sore?" asked the barely recognizable voice in my ear.
I awoke startled to see Heather standing over me in a white rumpled tee shirt and jeans. Gwen was nowhere to be found and I was confused and apprehensive. I instinctively felt for my collar: it was there. And so were my heels – I had slept with them on overnight! And during the course of the night I remembered a vaguely comforting dream about the cousins who seduced me so long ago….
Contrary to my expectations Heather was friendly.
"Yeah, a little," I finally responded.
"Let's see," she said. She sat on the bed and turned me gently on my side to inspect my back.
"Well, your skin's got a rosier glow now, as well a few stripes on that lovely ass and back of yours – but they'll go away in a day or two. That's it. But you really took it well, honey, you were amazing. You've given Gwen and me a year's worth of fantasy material." She smiled and I smiled back.
"You mean you aren't angry with me?" I asked softly.
"Angry? What for? You were such a fucking turn on, how could I be angry? And then the thought of you with Gwen drove me wild – it was all I could do to keep from playing with myself all night, thinking about the two of you. Usually Gwen goes for the younger girls, you know, the barely legal ones on the dancing scene. Well, don't we all?"
"I dunno…" I was blushing. The idea of being with an 18 year old, someone young enough to be my daughter made me embarrassed. It was embarrassing enough that both Gwen and Heather were so young. I looked up at Heather's blue eyes: she was deliciously beautiful in her unkempt state, and I remembered how glorious it felt to surrender to her ferocity the night before.
"Where is she?" I asked, attempting to get off the topic.
"Where she usually is – the club. Inventory, staff, you know, it's always something. Maybe she has someone there too…. I don't know. Hey, we share the rent and we're not married and so far it's been a great arrangement for both of us."
"C'mon," she continued, "I've got lunch waiting for us in the kitchen. You're quite a sleepyhead, you know – it's almost 3."
She tossed me a robe and over lunch we talked some more about ourselves. Heather was obviously intelligent and articulate: she had been going for her Masters' in Comparative Literature, had run into some money problems, got a tip to try dancing and has been at it ever since: the money is too good to stop. Anyway she didn't fancy herself as the professorial type. Right now she was stashing her earnings away and having a great deal of fun at the same time. She had no taste at all for men: to her they were simply sources of income, usually tipsy, and she wouldn't let one of them so much as touch her. I well understood. As I listened to her, gazing at her pretty face, I noticed she hadn't the hardness or unreachability I imagined that girls who stripped for a living would.
It was comfortable and natural to be sitting across from a table with her, chatting as I might with one of my straight and normal girlfriends. For my part I talked about my so-called marriage, how I had ignored for years my husband's gayness, and also ignored my attraction to women. I told Heather that the incident with my cousins may have had something to do with this kind of denial: I was so young at the time, and they were really perverse….. I'd never told anyone about that experience before.
"And you were their sweet young thing…." Heather mused. "No offence, but I can't blame them if you were half as hot then as you are now…."
I chuckled, and blushed a little, and she went on, "You know, Gwen and I had a foursome last year with an aunt and her niece – who had just turned 19. Maybe it was really wrong, but it really really felt good all round – nobody complained, that's for sure." She looked at me keenly and lustfully.
My pussy warmed involuntarily at this forbidden idea, and I hastened to change the subject.
I asked about dominance and submission, told Heather I couldn't believe I had done what I did, and that….
She interrupted by saying that she and Gwen weren't into the full-time lesbo SM scene: if that's all you do it gets old and stale real quickly, she opined.
"Gwen and I get into it for variety, maybe a few times a year," she added. "But it takes some practice, some skill to do it right – which is why you're not crawling in pain right now. "You've gotta know how to use your tools properly." She was quiet for a while as she gazed at me. "So little time, so much to explore," she said cryptically. She continued, "You really set Gwen off -- I haven't seen her this charged up in a long while."
Then she lowered her voice and moved her face close to mine: "And I haven't been so excited either – the thought of your lovely bound body jumping at my whip is almost too much…" Her voice trailed off and we kissed over the table, lightly at first, then with increasing passion, then ravenously, and Heather rose and clasped my head in her hands and started to make me swoon with arousal.
My body was still a bit sore – actually, tender is the better word – pretty much all over, but tender in a warm exciting way. Her hands felt good as they stroked me while we kissed.
