The following entertainment is for adults only, and anyone not an adult is hereby warned to go away.
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Lou fell in love in the bottom half of the fourth inning. She was at a party, bored with all the chatter, sitting alone in the kitchen watching night baseball on a small television set. She had no serious liking for baseball; she just wanted to be alone awhile. Three months now without Greta, her little Greta of the gumdrop nipples and soft belly and crazy temper. Greta had thrown an unopened wine bottle at the wall, smashed the bottle to bits, white wine splashing everywhere, toppling and cracking a vase that Lou had brought back from Yucatan, and then Greta had told Lou to go to hell and had stomped out on her high heels. What could Lou do? She had loved the little bitch to tears, but Greta was too much to handle. It occurred to Lou that lately all her women were too much to handle, all of them packages of intense trouble. Lou wanted peace. She was pushing fifty, and she wanted a peaceful existence with a loving woman, someone who could get her mind off the stupid politics at the university. Lou taught chemistry, and the chaos in her personal life was making her hate her job. How do I make things work for me? Lou thought. Why am I watching night baseball?
The batter struck out, and at that moment a young woman entered the kitchen, a tall brunette with a slick pageboy hairdo, a pretty oval face, red lips, slender body, firm little ass outlined by a tight black dress, and legs in black nylon perched on sandals with stiletto heels. Lou had a special weakness for pretty legs in high heels. My God, look at this, Lou thought. The girl was a vision and this was a lesbian party.
The young woman looked at Lou. "Hi. I was told I'd find some ice in the freezer. Is it okay?"
Lou shrugged. "Of course it's okay. It's not my freezer anyway." She smiled and the young woman smiled back, and Lou felt the lurch in her chest that told her she was falling in love again.
"Thanks," the young woman said. She walked to the freezer, opened it, and retrieved a tray of ice cubes.
"I'm Lou."
"And I'm Caroline." The young woman smiled at Lou and pranced out of the kitchen holding the tray of ice cubes in both hands.
Lou rolled her eyes, not at anyone, since she was alone in the kitchen again. Now where did that lovely girl come from? Lou thought. She certainly hadn't seen Caroline before. Now she had a reason to rejoin the party.
Lou found Caroline in the large living room, Caroline in the midst of a dozen women dancing to a heavy frenetic beat that rattled the walls. Lou watched Caroline a few moments, and then she walked over to Delia Perkins, the tough little blond who was the hostess of the party.
"Who's the brunette?" Lou asked.
"Which brunette?"
Lou inclined her head to indicate Caroline.
Delia squinted across the room and then chuckled. "Oh, that one. She's a dream, isn't she? Her name's Caroline Crowley and she belongs to Kell Vernon."
"Kell Vernon? I thought she left town."
"She's back, Lou. And don't start a fight here and break up my furniture."
"You know I'm not like that."
"Maybe not you, but Kell could. She's crazy. No fighting, okay?"
"Tell me about the girl."
"Caroline? I don't know anything about her. She works on campus somewhere and she came here with Kell."
"Damn Kell Vernon."
A voice behind Lou suddenly rasped: "You calling me, Lou?"
Lou knew the voice. She turned slowly and faced the big woman with a sigh. "I thought you left town, Kell."
"Well, I'm back."
"Too bad."
"Fuck you, professor."
Delia hissed at them. "Now you two don't start anything. I mean it. I'll throw you both out of here."
"I'm leaving," Lou said. "I don't like the smell in here."
* * *
At home, Lou was depressed again. She lived in an old house on the edge of the campus, a fine place she had tended carefully for nearly twenty years. But what good is a fine house if you're alone? She never liked being alone, especially not tonight after meeting Caroline Crowley and seeing Kell Vernon again. Damn Kell Vernon, what an animal she was. What was a girl like Caroline Crowley doing with an animal like that? Lou lay on her living room sofa and thought about Caroline Crowley and it caused an ache in her belly. Those pretty legs. Oh hell, Lou thought. She hadn't had any real sex since Greta walked out. She thought about Rita. Before Greta, Rita had been Lou's lover. More like a slave than a lover, since Rita's passion was hard submission, the kinkier the better. Lou didn't mind dominating a lover, since she dominated all of them, but Rita could pull her to the edge. Lou did not like the edge of the abyss; you look down and you see blackness and despair. She had promised herself she would not call Rita again. But how could she avoid it now? She needed what Rita could give her. After that scene with Kell Vernon, she needed to put her mind in storage, at least for a few hours. She reached behind her head to find the cordless phone, brought it forward and started punching in a telephone number. Rita would help her. Rita would moan and beg and do anything Lou wanted. There was never any love in it, only lust. A sharp mind-bending lust coupled with the wildness of Rita's submission. Rita's submission to her was a like dangerous drug that had to be taken in small doses. Too much Rita would kill her. But when she needed Rita desperately, nothing could take Rita's place.
She heard Rita's phone ring, and then Rita answered.
Lou said: "Hello, Rita, this is Lou."
* * *
An hour later, Rita was on her knees with Lou's strap-on in her mouth, the cock showing the red smears of Rita's lipstick. Rita had her eyes closed, her round mouth sliding back and forth on the shaft of the cock as Lou stood there looking down at Rita's face. Lou was naked, her big breasts sagging on her chest, her hands on her hips. Watching a femme suck her cock always made Lou hot. Rita had arrived dressed the way she knew Lou wanted her to be dressed, almost naked under a raincoat; she now wore black thigh-high fishnets and black pumps and nothing else. Rita was thirty-five, with a lean body, small breasts, and narrow hips.
"Hold still," Lou said, and Rita immediately stopped moving her head as Lou started thrusting the cock in and out of Rita's open mouth. Now Rita's eyes were open and lifted to look at Lou's face. They locked eyes as Lou continued fucking Rita's mouth. "Diddle your clit," Lou said, and Rita's right hand immediately dropped to her crotch to find her clitoris.
What a hungry bitch, Lou thought. But she liked her women that way. Sex was too important not to have a hunger for it. She pitied all the miserable people without the hunger. Not having the hunger, they scorned those who had it; the half-dead scorning the living. She pushed the cock deeper into Rita's mouth, all the way in until Rita's nose pressed against her belly, the head of the cock pushing against the back of Rita's throat. Rita was too experienced to gag; she just held on until Lou had enough and decided to pull back.
When Lou pulled the cock all the way out of Rita's mouth, a wad of saliva dribbed out of the corner of Rita's lips and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Lou looked down at her. "Have you missed me?"
"You know I have, Lou."
"Missed me or missed this cock?"
"Both."
"Kneel on the sofa with your ass up."
Rita rose off her knees and did what Lou wanted. She knelt facing the back of the sofa, with her knees apart and her back arched to make her buttocks prominent. Without being told, she reached back to pull her buttocks apart.
Lou gazed down at the offered body. She loved asses, and the stockings and heels made Rita's ass look divine. Rita's labia were shaved clean, the cunt like a split peach at the joining of her thighs. Lou could see a glint of oil at the rim of Rita's dark little anus; Rita had already lubricated herself, probably in the bathroom when she had first arrived.
Almost too perfect, Lou thought. She moved forward to fuck her toy.
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