The Checkout Girl 03

I strongly urge reading "The Checkout Girl, Parts 1 – 2" before this one to see how Jennifer and Angie got where they are. Feedback and comments, please!

THE CHECKOUT GIRL, PART 3

"Coming to Terms"

"I think I need a bath," Angie whispered.

I stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. She joined in a bit weakly.

"Me too!" I said, wiping my arms and hands on the comforter, which was already a lost cause after our last bout of lovemaking. I climbed up to lie next to her and propped my head on one hand.

She looked completely worn out after her last orgasm. "Are you okay?" I asked.

With obvious effort, she opened one eye and peered at me. "Are you kidding?" she said faintly. "I think I'm still floating around in space somewhere!" She laughed feebly again.

I relaxed, not realizing until then that I'd been tense. Things had happened so quickly between us that I wasn't sure how

I

felt about it, much less what she thought about it all. Now that the liquor was wearing off, I was feeling much less sure of the wisdom of what we were doing. In the first place, it wasn't like me at all to run off with an almost-stranger on a spur-of-the-moment road trip (though I'd been fantasizing about doing something like this for years). "Me" = being responsible, going to work every day, taking care of my son, cooking, cleaning, and yes, going to church every Sunday. Oh, what the ladies and elders would think of

this

little scene if they ever found out.

I was

definitely

not ready to deal with the theological implications. Nope, like Scarlett, I decided to think about that tomorrow, at Tara (or next week at home, or whatever).

Okay, so I'm kind of obsessive about right and wrong – I couldn't put this off completely. I perused Angie's naked body as I thought. Her eyes were closed again, and her breathing was gradually working back towards normal, so I had a minute or two to think. My second thoughts definitely did not have the effect of making her less desirable to me. We were both pretty short, though she's probably an inch or two taller, around 5' 6". Whereas I have olive skin, green eyes and golden hair like a lion's mane, she is very pale with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. Her hair was very fetchingly tousled around her face where she lay on the bed; one stray lock curled around the front of her neck and down between her breasts.

Her breasts were definitely her best feature, and I would never have guessed under the clothes I usually saw her in – the uniform polo shirt and apron she wore to work at the grocery store. No, those breasts deserved a nice, tight little tank top to show them off. They're exactly the kind I wish I had: full, hanging down but turned up a little at the tips so that her nipples angled slightly upward. Mine were okay but smaller than I would like.

Okay, her breasts did successfully distract me from my thoughts, but I had to come to some kind of conclusion in my mind about what I was doing in a hotel, hundreds of miles from home, having lesbian sex with my favorite checkout girl.

I noticed that Angie's eyes were open again. She was looking at me, waiting patiently for me to notice. I smiled a little and gently brushed her hair back with my fingertips, as if she were a sleepy child. She smiled back but looked at me seriously.

"Deep thoughts?" she asked. I nodded and waited to see what she would say.

"You're thinking, 'What the hell are we doing here?' right?" she said.

I laughed awkwardly. "Something like that, yes," I said. Quickly, before she could get the wrong idea, I said, "I'm

glad

to be here with you. I'm not having second thoughts about making love to you . . . it's just . . ." I trailed off, not quite sure how to put it.

She thought for a moment. "Like, how would we explain this to our families and friends?"

"Yes, that's part of it."

She sat up and crossed her legs casually, Indian-style, which had the simultaneous effect of making her look girlish and distracting me with her soft little pussy. I determinedly kept my eyes on her face, though I couldn't help straying down every so often to look at her lovely breasts.

"I guess it's more like – this isn't really

me

," I said. "I mean, it's something I wanted to do, and want to continue doing, but it doesn't fit into my everyday life, you know?"

She nodded. "I understand. After all, I'm married, and even though he can be a putz sometimes, I love Mike. I love our girls, and I wouldn't want anything to change all of that."

I turned to lie on my back, and we both stared off into space for a few minutes, thinking it over. It seemed to me that whatever there was between us was kind of like most of my sexuality in general – it had no part of my public life or family life. After all, it wasn't like I shared my masturbation habits or love for reading erotica with anyone I knew. I considered those things to be a normal part of my life, especially since I'm single – I'm only human, after all – but it just isn't the kind of thing you

talk

about with people. Angie was sexy and sweet, and I was enjoying our developing friendship, but I certainly couldn't take her home and introduce her as my lesbian lover. And I certainly had no intention of officially labeling myself a lesbian – I didn't think of myself in that way. I had every desire and intention to marry a nice guy some day, and all my long-terms hopes were wrapped up in that.

Angie touched my arm softly, and I looked up at her. She smiled and said, "Look – I think we both agree that this weekend is something special, but at the same time, it isn't a part of our regular lives." I nodded. "Can we agree to just enjoy ourselves, then go back to normal on Monday? After all, lots of people get crazy and do irresponsible things every week or every day of their lives – I think you and I deserve one weekend of it, don't you?" We both giggled.

"I think I can live with that," I said, relieved we had resolved this, at least for now, in a way we could agree on.

"Good!" she said, and jumped down from the bed. "The jacuzzi should still be nice and warm – why don't we go wash up?" She held out her hand with a wicked glint in her eye. I laughed again and took it, sliding down to stand next to her. She led me into the bathroom, where we could indeed still see steam rising from the water. After looking around for a moment, she leaned over and pushed a button. With a quiet rumble, the jets came on and began churning the water.

Several bottles lined the bathroom counter, and curious, I went to see what they were. I was delighted to find that, in addition to the usual complimentary shampoo, conditioner, and soap, we were provided a musky, lavender-scented bath oil and matching massage oil. I picked up the bath oil and made a mental note to try the massage oil when we were done. Walking back to the jacuzzi, I poured in a generous amount.

Angie breathed in the scent deeply. "Ooh, that smells good. It's not too sweet-smelling, like most of the stuff they make these days," she said.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "I feel like I'll go into a diabetic coma just walking down the bath aisle!" We both giggled and started to climb into the water. This was more like it – back to discussing everyday things and laughing together.

The jacuzzi had a deep, ergonomically-shaped bench all the way around that seated us both comfortably, with room to spare. We eased ourselves down, wincing slightly at the hot water. "This makes me think of Bugs Bunny," I said with a grin.

"Bugs Bunny?" she said, looking completely lost.

"Yeah, remember that one where the witch wanted to eat him for dinner, but told him the boiling pot was a nice, warm bath?" I said.

The light went on in her eyes, and she threw her head back and laughed. "Yes! I remember that one! 'Ooh! Ow! Eee!'" I joined in, and we did a goofy imitation of Bugs Bunny trying to get used to the hot water until we just broke down laughing as hard as we could.

"We'll have to see if we get Boomerang here," she said. "We don't get it at home, and you've made me want to watch Bugs Bunny and Tom and Jerry and all those good cartoons we watched when we were kids!"

"Definitely!" I said, then stretched luxuriously, loving how the blissfully hot water warmed and relaxed my muscles.

I noticed a set of buttons on my side of the jacuzzi and, like a little kid, decided to play with them. Jet speed, jet pulses . . . "Ooh, is the whole jacuzzi

vibrating

?" I exclaimed. The sides and floor and even the

bench

were vibrating gently, just enough to make my pussy begin tingling a little.

Angie's eyes were wide. "Yeah! Don't forget that one! I like that!" I left it on. It reminded me of the massaging chairs at the nail salon, but better.

I quit playing with the buttons and sat back. When I slouched down comfortably, the water came up just above my breasts. I lay my head back and let my arms float limply on the surface. Angie stretched her legs out and kicked a bit.

After a few minutes, she sat up and said, "Hey, why don't you come sit over here?"

I opened my eyes. She had turned sideways on the bench and held one arm up to gesture me closer. I slid over. "Here, turn your back to me," she said. I did, and she guided me closer until our bodies were in full contact. She put both arms around me and pulled me gently so that I lay back against her soft breasts.

"Mmm," I said, "this is nice."

"Mmm hmm," she agreed, lazily stroking my arm under the water. I rested my head on her shoulder and just enjoyed being held in her soft arms and feeling her touch. The lavender bath oil made our skin nice and slippery. I could feel her nipples hardening against my back. I couldn't imagine anything so comfortable and sexy as this.

Her fingertips began wandering farther afield, caressing the underside of my arm, my side, and the outer curve of my breast.

"You know, Jennifer," she said huskily, "you have very pretty breasts."

Just hearing her say that made me feel flushed and hot, and I could feel my nipples tighten. "I like yours better," I said. "I always thought mine were too small."

"No way," she said, "they're juuuuuust right." Now both of her hands caressed the underside of my breasts, and she traced her fingers around my aureolae. I moaned and arched my back a little, wanting her to touch my aching nipples.

She teasingly avoided them, instead caressing my ribs and tummy, as I had done to her earlier. Her light touch combined with the jacuzzi's vibrations to put me back in a seriously turned-on state. Despite the water swishing and swirling around, I suspected that my pussy was getting wet and slippery inside. I began caressing her legs, wishing I were in a better position to reach back and touch her but enjoying what she was doing to me too much to move. I suspected that's why she had me sit that way.

Her hands roamed up and down, teasing my breasts and my thighs, never quite touching me where I wanted her most but always close enough to heighten my arousal. I squirmed a little, trying to press my nipples into her palms, and she laughed knowingly.

"Does Jennifer want Angie to squeeze her little titties?" she whispered hotly in my ear. She cupped her hands around my breasts and squeezed lightly, still managing to avoid touching my now-rock-hard nipples. Another moan slipped from my lips, and I gripped her thighs, trying to reach back far enough to dip my fingers into her soft pussy. She giggled mischievously and pressed her hips forward a little so I could just barely graze her nether lips.

"You like touching my pussy, don't you?" she whispered, then licked her hot tongue around the outside of my ear, her warm breath sending a pleasurable tingle to join the many others she had excited. I turned slightly, which gave me that extra inch or two I needed to slip two fingers into her moist slit. She breathed in sharply and stopped moving for a moment as I strained to explore her soft folds. Then she shifted her hips back out of reach.

"You naughty girl," she said with a low chuckle. "You already had your fun – now it's my turn to play with little Jenny." She emphasized this by flattening her hands against my breasts and rubbing them slowly but firmly up until they fell from her hands, jiggling a little against the water. I gasped as her palms rolled over my nipples, sending little shocks down to my throbbing pussy. Now she rubbed her palms in small, firm circles. My nipples were so hard and elongated that they folded over each time she rubbed across them. I was breathing in short, gasping pants – ohhhh, God she felt so good.

"Such nice, soft little titties," she crooned. "Let me squeeze those hard little nipples for you . . . mmm, they're so hard, you must be getting so hot." I nodded slightly and gasped again as she pinched my nipples hard, then stretched them out farther than I thought they could go. My eyes were glued on what she was doing to me. My breasts stretched out till they resembled golden cones with stretched, pink-taffy tips imprisoned between her fingers and thumbs. She squeezed and rolled my nipples till I thought I might be able to cum just with her stimulating my breasts, then she released my nipples abruptly so that my tits jiggled down against the water again. My breasts felt sexily heavy under her touch as she again rubbed her palms in circles over my nipples. I groaned low and long in need.

"Mmm, you like it a little rough, don't you? Does it make you hot when it hurts a little?" she said with a little hiss in her voice. She grasped my breasts firmly and pinched my nipples harder. I moaned louder and pressed my breasts harder against her hands. "Ohhhh, yes, I love that," I whispered.

She laughed low and wickedly in my ear, now scraping her fingernails across my breasts and down my sides. "Good, then I have a

delightful

idea," she said. "Get up."

A little confused at the sudden change, I let her push me away and I rose to stand shakily next to her. She climbed out of the jacuzzi and stood, naked and dripping lavender-scented water on the tiled floor. She helped me out, then led me back to the bedroom. Pointing imperiously to the bed, she said, "On your stomach."

Still dripping wet, I obediently climbed onto the bed, a thrill of excitement chasing down my spine as I wondered what she had in mind. "Stay there and don't move," she ordered. "I'll be right back." I stayed still and listened as she padded lightly into the living room. I could hear her doing something with the bags, which we had left near the door, and I suddenly wondered whether anyone could see her through the blinds, which I didn't think were closed all the way. As unlikely as that was at this time of night, it excited me that some stranger might see her naked body in the window.

Having apparently found what she wanted, she came back into the bedroom. "Stretch your arms out," she said. I obeyed, then turned my head to see what she was doing. She held what looked like a handful of colorful scarves. Throwing them down next to me on the bed, she chose one and began wrapping it around my left wrist and the bedpost, tying it off tightly, but not so tight as to cut off my circulation. I could see where this was going, and it excited me. Nobody had ever tied me up in bed before, but I had always fantasized about it. I wasn't interested in major BDSM, but I loved feeling helpless and under someone's control sexually. Squeezing my thighs together surreptitiously so I could feel my wet pussy lips squish together, I wondered how far she planned to go with this.

Quickly and without speaking, she tied up my other arm, then stretched my legs wide and bound them to the foot of the bed. Then she tested my bonds to make sure they were secure.

"Now, little Jenny, what should we do first?" she said in mock speculation. "Oh yes, I know. You were a naughty girl earlier, weren't you, touching Miss Angie's pussy when it wasn't your turn." I giggled. "I think little Jenny deserves a spanking. After all, we can't have people going around touching other people's pussies when it isn't their turn, can we?"

I laughed harder at the picture this brought to mind. I imagined walking down a crowded city street, slipping my hand up ladies' skirts and rubbing their wet slits as I passed. A sharp

crack!

and stinging sensation in my buttocks cut off my laughter, and I gasped in shock. I twisted to look over my shoulder and saw Angie standing there with one hand on her hip and one gripping a brush, having apparently just smacked me in the butt with it. I could feel a warm sensation spread out from where she had hit me. Oh yeah, this was going to be a sexy experience.

"Mmm, I think I deserve a lot more punishment, Miss Angie," I said mischievously, arching my back to wiggle my bottom in the air. "I don't think I've learned my lesson yet."

"Nope, I don't think you have," she said, grinning. Her arm swung down again.

Crack!

Harder this time. I gasped again. It hurt, but it felt so good, too, and I could feel my pussy swelling, throbbing, and leaking juices onto the comforter.

Crack! Crack!

She was truly spanking me now, the strikes coming faster and sharper. I moaned and tried to spread my legs open wider, and I pressed my vulva down to grind against the comforter as best I could.

"Naughty –"

crack!

"- naughty –"

crack!

"- little girl!"

crack!

she said. I was gasping and crying out at each strike, and moaning in hot desire in between. She struck each time in a slightly different place so that my buttocks began to feel swollen, throbbing, and glowing red under her ministrations.

She paused, bent down and said, "Hmm, what's this?" In a brisk, businesslike manner, she swiped two fingers up my slit, drawing another gasp from me.

"Why, your little pussy is getting all messy!" she cried in mock indignation. "This is supposed to be a punishment, you little slut! You got my fingers all slimy and drippy! Here, lick that clean!" she demanded, and thrust her fingers into my face. I eagerly licked and sucked her fingers clean, the taste of my juices turning me on even more.

"I'm sorry, Miss Angie," I said breathlessly. "Maybe if you punished me some more, I'd learn my lesson."

She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back a little, but not too roughly. "Naughty little girls don't get to tell Miss Angie what to do. I think this calls for a

special

punishment."

She ran around and quickly untied my hands and ankles, then said, "On your back, little slut!" I flipped over quickly, and she retied my hands. I stretched out my legs, expecting her to retie those as well, but she grabbed my ankles instead and pulled them up over my head, making my buttocks rise off the bed slightly.

Holding one ankle, she ordered, "Keep the other one up as well." I did as she said, and she tied each ankle to the headboard just above my wrists. Now my pussy was wide open, and I could feel my juices beginning to drip down into my crack. I felt totally helpless in this position – she could do anything.

She crossed her arms over her naked breasts and seemed to ponder me for a moment. She tapped the brush against one arm in thought. Apparently making up her mind, she readied to spank me again, though I was a little nervous because not much of my buttocks were exposed in this position.

Tap!

Much lighter this time, and a good thing, because now she was lightly smacking my pussy with the brush! I gasped and trembled in my bonds. "That was a naughty little pussy for making Miss Angie's fingers all messy," she crooned.

Tap!

"Got to punish the offending party, don't we!"

Tap!

My pussy lips were swelling and flowering open so that the brush landed atop my slippery wet inner lips.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

She watched my face closely to gauge my level of tolerance to this new punishment and apparently decided I could take more, because each tap grew a little sharper than the one before until she was smacking my pussy almost as firmly as she had my buttocks.