Slips of the Tongue

Group Therapy

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."

- Jess C. Scott,

The Intern

Gwen verged on waking, the fingers of her right hand curled against her nose; still breathing in the musk of Domenique's savory pussy. The aroma had carried her through one sweet dream after another; a red hued celluloid stream of tongue slipping, clit polishing, ass munching tableau after tableau. Gwen sighed and smiled through most of her sleep. But, as the wintry wind's chill came through cracks around the bedroom window, the look of a bad dream darkened Gwen's face. Trapped by its spell, she slept a while longer, until the menace behind her REM rapid eyes chased her toward the safety of consciousness. With sputtering breaths, choking for air, Gwen raised her head quickly and scanned the empty stretch of bed beside her. Gagged, bound, helpless suffocation; the script of her nightmare lingered as she thought: Where's Nique?

Gwen swung her legs off the bed, and then planted her feet confidently to the floor. Sometime during the night, they'd worked together, clearing the fractured shards and needle remnants of Domenique's rage. It was safe, Gwen believed, as she rose and stepped through the open doorway. To her left, the kitchen was empty. Peering around the corner to her right, Gwen saw Domenique, under a thick blanket, huddled in her big easy chair by her bay window.

A slow, fine snow fell, the kind one had to stare at for a moment to be sure that it was actually snowing. Domenique was staring into it, lost in that way that Gwen had seen dozens of times before; a sorrowful introspection, her eyes always seeming as if on the verge of angry tears. Domenique would space out now and again, the last time occurring a good while before her violence two nights before. If they'd hadn't had their talk last night, Gwen would have assumed Domenique was wrestling with the guilt of having beaten her for flirting with the girl at Victoria's Secret. But now, she knew what ghosts lurked behind Domenique's eyes. .

Gwen was finally given the meat that made up the flesh of the scraps Domenique threw her as their relationship began. The little girl named Domenica grew up in a strip bar. Her Pops was sent to jail for human trafficking and endangering a minor. Domenica refused to ever look upon Lala again, and so never said good-bye the day, not three weeks into Dom's time in foster care, the Multiple Sclerosis forced her young mother out of the world . Heather, once DCF cleared her as an advocate, was still there for Domenica. Gradually, Heather, as teacher and temporary provider and essentially surrogate mother, evolved into the background story that stuck while Domenica became the emancipated adult named Domenique.

Gwen, on the other hand, had laid it all, or at least 99.9 % of it, out at the beginning. There was nothing she cared to tell beyond her woes as the superfluous child that survived her big family. Though, as Gwen gathered jagged pieces of mirror from Domenique's bedroom carpet, she decided that it was the right moment to relate what she referred to as her trial by Billy.

Billy was the nightmare of Gwen's adolescence; the prince turned psycho. She'd been there for him as he'd been for her, so that when he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, Gwen had vowed to take care of him. He'd beat her once, and she'd understood. The second time, Gwen was more scared than hurt. The last time, Gwen had been walking out of school with some innocent boy, and got terrorized for it. She'd seen Billy, smiled, waved good-bye to her innocent bystander, walked quickly through the snow, taking care not to slip as she made her way to Billy's side of the car. Her plan was to give him a nice kiss hello. His plan, after seeing her with that boy and all the little pig faced men dancing around them both, was to grab Gwen by her long hair, pull her close, and then peel off while he dragged her along the road. Gwen ultimately survived that day. Her lesson learned, her wounds healed, she set her sights on college and never looked back.

So Gwen had held her guard from lover to lover, and had kept her heart safe until; Domenique. Gwen breathed a great yet quiet breath as she assessed her Nique. Her love tingled with the sight of her, and her heart, the anger in it long since pumped away, ached no less for the woman. Yet, Gwen still feared, a little; but a little was enough. Nique promised me sobriety, she thought. Nique promised me safe, loving, hands. I want to believe. I have to.

Gwen stood in the doorway, naked, plainly visible but not seen, as she watched Domenique and thought of her mystery caller's words. We do, she thought, we're all guilty of wearing masks so that we can play the characters of ourselves. But who helps us create those characters other than the company we want to keep? Domenique turned suddenly, and met Gwen's eyes. Her gaze, though still troubled, softened as she watched her lover step out of the shadows. As the morning chill brought her nipples to attention, Gwen wrapped her arms around herself. Domenique opened her blanket, unfurling it like a cape, revealing her own naked body while inviting Gwen to join her side. Gwen huddled in and rubbed her cold nose against Domenique's warm neck as she threw the thick blanket back upon them both.

"I'm so, so, sorry." Domenique whispered, uttering the apology she repeated at least twenty times the night before.

"You're my best girl Nique." Gwen answered before kissing her lover's neck, her tone pitched to ring truth, "I love you."

The next moment passed silently but for their slow, and just short of synchronous, breathing.

"I still let it take over." Lamented Domenique, "I still did what I did. I shouldn't have let it happen."

No shit, thought Gwen. Thanks to Nique, they were now a statistic within a statistic; invisibly factored within the 17 to 45% range of those perpetrated and victimized through physical violence committed by a lesbian partner. Roses in our bed, your violence won't do. Hit me again and there'll be therapy for you. There, huddled inside the warmth of the comforter as the snow began to blanket the lawn and street beyond, Gwen understood that this woman, this beautifully brooding, bold, creative inspiring gift of soul and flesh, she would take beating after beating from before ever giving her up . I know. I'm stupid. But, I can't quit her, I just; can't. Gwen sat up, took Domenique by the chin, and then gently pulled her face toward hers.

"Now you know not to let it happen again, " she said, reiterating her advice from the night before, her words measured as if slowing them down would help them get through to the lost and abandoned little girl that still lived in the cold, dark basement of Domenique's mind, "The past will suck us dry if we let it. So; don't let it.

Domenique stared into Gwen's eyes, her expression gradually brightening. Gwen began a slow dance with her lips, brushing them against Domenique's, taking in her gaze as she painted wisps of kisses along her chin and cheeks.

"I am here," Gwen continued, "Because, since the first time I saw your face, I've only ever wanted to be here."

"But what about Tina and Julie?" asked Domenique, averting her gaze, "What about your mysterious caller?"

"What about them?" Gwen answered, taking her lover by the chin and giving it a gentle shake, somehow both humbled and yet annoyed with Nique's insecurity, "The call? I basically told her to fuck off. If she wants us, she's got to cut the bull shit. Frankly, I think she's gutless, who knows; maybe even deranged, and neither of us have any use for that. As for the girls-"

Gwen paused, her stare never leaving Domenique's.

"Do you want us to stop seeing the girls?"

Domenique didn't look away as Gwen waited for her answer. As she stared, Gwen remembered Domenique's impromptu confession of love from an earlier time, and imagined a vast garden living in the depths of Domenique's pupils; lush leaves, fronds and petals dripping lustrously in the wake of an electric storm.

"No." Domenique replied, blushing, "I still like, I'm not afraid, to share you, us, with Tina and Julie."

A smile played along Domenique's lips. As slight as it was, it infected Gwen; casting soft dimple shadows in her cheeks, and warming the look in her eyes to a more luminously green shade of hazel.

"Including them in our sex," Domenique continued, "It's nice; like a vacation inside a vacation. In fact, I think I'll take pictures next time."

Next time was scheduled for that very afternoon. Gwen had made the calls later that morning. Tina was excited about meeting Julie, Jules, as Gwen and Domenique had gotten into the habit of calling her. Jules was also looking forward to meeting someone new, especially since Mr. Sullivan had just recently left her for an even younger woman. So, by the time it struck three, all participants were gathered at Gwen's for their exclusively female friendly four-way gang bang fuck buddy fest.

It didn't take long for Tina and Jules to warm to each other. Jules was loving Tina's instantly disarming appeal and her litany of wise cracks. Tina was loving Jules's long and curly red hair and her outfit. Then, once Tina found out that she was a nurse, she insisted that Jules show her the proper method of self breast examination. Jules was struck silent, caught off guard, and then smiled as she asked as to whose breasts should she demonstrate on; hers or Tina's. Domenique was fiddling with her camera, not looking at them, when she told Tina to show off her big girls.

Gwen was standing by the window in just her sweater and a pair of white lace bikini briefs, watching Tina immediately submit. That was the thing about Tina; she was totally wrapped around Domenique's finger. She'd even grown out her pubic hair and kept it in a nice diamond because Nique told her too. As she thought about it, Gwen realized that Nique didn't behave with Jules that way. Domenique treated Jules more like an equal, like the way she treated Gwen herself. Hmm, she wondered; does that mean Nique was more likely to smack Jules or Tina around? Wait; who am I more like, in Nique's mind? Gwendolyn? No. Just stop. Gwen willed the thoughts away. She then focused her attention on Tina's buoyant yet ample breasts and the now rosy cheeked Jules delighting in them. She watched for a time as Tina's nurse very clinically went about and explained the how and what of self examination; fingers and palms roving widening concentric circles around her patient's delicious looking mammary glands.

"Gwen?"

Gwen quickly shifted her gaze to Domenique. She had taken up a space of carpet six feet behind Gwen and to her left. She was seated crossed-legged, wearing denim cut-offs and a spacious white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves and was holding her camera, ready to shoot. Domenique's expression was both cool and somewhat intense.

"Would you pull your panties down to your knees please?"

Gwen wasn't necessarily the prettiest among the four women, but she was the most photogenic. Domenique keenly understood Gwen as the most instantly inspiring and titillating in captured image, like a picture worth a thousand lurid stares. Julie was the prettiest, the model. Tina was hot, yet pixyish, and Domenique herself was subtlely muscular, roughly bewitching; the dark aloofness in her eyes always serving as her sexy hook.

Gwen stood in the winter washed light coming in through her living room window and slowly drew her panties down to around her knees. She then parted her legs slightly and turned to gaze innocently into the camera. All three women admired Gwen's creamy round ass before Domenique framed the shot, and then snapped.

One night, weeks before the bad night, whispered in the dark against Gwen's panting mouth, Domenique told her that she had a mysteriously natural way of matching a given environment, a deep thing, a miraculous drawing the world around her to feature only her as its central image. It was a gift, uncanny. Domenique knew she was lucky, blessed to have her, and a twinge of pain clutched her heart tight as she remembered that good, good night and the mistake she'd made not two nights before.

Domenique, her eyes full with admiration, took the same shot twice more. Gwen then slipped out of her panties, and looked over her shoulder to face the camera again. Domenique, eyes scrutinizing and hands steady, captured the image. Watching the three pairs of eyes follow her every motion, Gwen moved into another pose. She turned 180 degrees, stood with her legs slightly apart, her attention toward the day outside, the panties dangling from her left hand, her pussy hair divided half in soft light, half in shadow. Click, went Domenique's camera as she felt her heart's beat in her throat.

"Beautiful." Said Domenique, "Now turn back around. Get on your knees and sit three quarter profile away from the light."

Gwen did. Peering over her shoulder, she saw Tina helping Jules out of her clothes. Jules met her gaze, her bright blue eyes alert, her lips parted in a nervous smile. Domenique's camera clicked and clicked again.

"Now face me again." Domenique instructed, "Get on your haunches, squat; that's it. Now spread your pussy lips a bit. Nice. Lift up your sweater. Show me like a tit and a half. Stop. Don't; move. I'll be hanging this shot in the bathroom."

Gwen smiled broadly. Laughter came from behind Domenique as she took the shot. Then, she was about to utter another direction when Gwen wagged her head and beckoned her with a slow, come hither, gesturing finger. Domenique turned once to check Tina's and Jules progress. They were exchanging gentle, probative kisses as Tina held Jules's tits and thumbed her long pale pink nipples. Domenique set her camera down, and then crawled toward Gwen. Still squatting, a sudden wetness of her cunt's aperture gleaming from the pallid afternoon sun, Gwen brought her beckoning finger to the empty space of floor between her newly glistening pussy and the carpet below. Domenique met her lips, kissed Gwen sweetly, and then slowly rolled onto her back. Like a mechanic on her rolling board, Domenique ducked her head under Gwen's chassis. Feeling steady for the moment, Gwen wondered how long she could manage the position. Glancing up at a now totally naked Tina and Jules, Gwen watched as they came closer. Jules stopped at Domenique's camera and picked it up. Meanwhile, Domenique began to dine, her tongue visibly wagging and affirming its merry way inside Gwen's pussy.

In the next instant, Jules was on her knees, between Domenique's open legs, and smiled as she went about undoing the buttons of Domenique's shirt. Apparently Jules considered herself, at least for the moment, as having a good eye for image. She'd exposed Domenique's breasts, and then played with the folds and ripples of shirt around them until she was satisfied. Then, stepping back, Jules took the shot. Gwen wondered if she'd want a copy of it for her photo album. Jules stood then and approached Tina. She whispered in her ear, and then Tina looked at her, her expression serious. Tina paused, and then got to the floor and crawled between Domenique's legs. Jules, holding the camera close to her face, moved around to the trio's left side and then their right.

There, Jules stopped and poised her camera as Tina unzipped the fly of Domenique's cut-offs. Aware in spite of how her vision was obscured by Gwen's ass and because of how busy she was, Domenique lifted her ass as Tina tugged her shorts away. Her legs now free and her pussy exposed to the air, Domenique felt Tina's breaths against her sex, felt her sliding fingers and her tongue, and then heard the camera click. Jules took two more shots before setting herself up behind Tina. From there, she snapped and snapped again before inserting her fingers into Tina's dripping pussy and nibbling around her smooth white ass. It was then that Gwen could no longer keep her position. Carefully, she lowered herself completely onto Domenique's face. Flinging her sweater away, Gwen lowered herself the rest of the way and joined Tina at Domenique's pussy. Together they ate, their tongues meeting at either side of Domenique's clit, feeling her shake against their chins. Jules was there again suddenly, snapping away as Tina and Gwen and took the time to lick juices from each others chins and cheeks and exchange deep wet kisses.

Feeling a bit left out, Jules placed the camera on the coffee table, and then returned to encourage Tina away. She was successful, and they stood together, kissing, Jules breathing in the musk on Tina's face and then licking it clean. At that moment, Gwen and Domenique assumed positions in each other's laps, their hands roving smoothly across backs, shoulders and thighs, their fingers dawdling around nipples and through thick lustrous hair.

Tina and Julie, themselves embraced, watched them make their love. Warmed to each other, standing naked, they too were embraced, their breasts pressed and nipples smothered. Tina smiled, and then turned and whispered into Julie's ear. Julie laughed quietly, and then turned to face her new friend. They stared, a fire now ignited in their eyes, the warmth of their breath on each other's faces. Eyes still open, Tina leaned in for another kiss. Julie met her. A silence filled the room as a band of finches twittered their chaotic song in a tree just beyond Gwen's bay window. Eventually, Tina and Julie, their clits engorged, broke their kiss. Tina took Julie by the hand and led her to Gwen and Domenique, still seated in each other's laps.

Tina positioned Julie on Gwen and Domenique's right, and then stepped around the couple to flank them on their left. Then, Tina and Julie resumed their kissing, slicking and lapping each other's breasts while their pussy lips began to swell and part, their fragrance finding its way into Gwen and Domenique's noses. Gwen reached a hand to cup Tina's smooth round ass. Domenique reached for Julie's right buttock, clenched it firmly and extended her middle finger to rub her asshole. They were a house of cards, four queens, built on a foundation of hearts, diamonds smooth and soft edged. Gwen peered up at the ceiling of Tina's and Julie's bodies, their four breasts casting oddly looped shadows. Then, giving Domenique a last look and open mouth kiss, she turned her lips toward Tina's softly downed blonde pussy.

Her clit shown like a tantalizing gum drop. Gwen began to lap gently at the candy and nibbled it now and again, making her twitch, remembering that was how Tina liked it. Domenique watched Gwen for a time before finally fitting her mouth into Julie's slick, parted, swollen lips. She ate her with gentle ease, as she would the soft serve vanilla frozen yogurt cones she liked. Julie's juices quickly began to wet Domenique's cheeks and chin. Gwen had reached two fingers inside Tina and they both could hear their partners begin to moan with pleasure. Gradually, as Domenique and Gwen salivated and wagged their tongues against Tina's and Julie's sweet juicy bits, if the two standing didn't have each other to lean on, their house of bodies would have collapsed. Presently, Gwen and Domenique climbed out, and then hiked their fingers and mouths up along the smooth terrain of Tina and Julie's bodies.

Now, they too standing, the four exchanged deep kisses, switching partner to partner, swapping sex sweat saliva aromatic pussy bouquets. Flavors intermingled, cheeks flushed, clits poked and gleaming for action, the four women switched partner to partner, slow waltzing rings around their roses. Gwen took Julie and painted patches of Tina's pussy sweat along her cheeks and neck. Domenique spread buttery trails of Tina along Julie's jaw line and along her ears. Their heat filled the room as they mingled, lingering mouths and tongues, sucking hard nipple after nipple, squeezing the weight from breast to breast, skin shining wet and ever hotter pink.