The Depraved Dykes Of Fit Book 02

Copyright 2015, 2020 Lisa Summers

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Myra

"Charlie, you KNOW these roles are important to my career," the very attractive twenty three year old blonde whined. "I've got to study my lines!"

Her boyfriend, a muscular but average looking twenty year old, looked at her generous breasts, thin waist and wide hips and ass, and laughed.

"C'mon Myra baby, there's plenty of time to memorize your lines after we fuck!"

She squealed with laughter as he easily picked her up and carried her 110 pound, 5'3" oh-so-adorably beautiful body over to the bed. He quickly flipped up her skirt, and then pulled down her panties, exposing her sweet, lovely pussy. Kneeling between her legs and unzipping, he pulled out his cock and spit into his hand, lubricated his erection, fitting its plump pink head into her tiny slit, then inexorably pushing forward to slide inside of her.

Ignoring her gasp, he slowly began pumping inside of her, his erection swallowed by her body, her knees lifting reflexively as he penetrated her vagina.

"Oh fuck...yeah, baby..." she coaxed, "fuck me so good, split me with your giant cock!" she moaned, her words helping to bring him to a climax. With a shudder, he came in what must have been, even for him, record time, less than a minute after he had tossed her down on the bed. He slowed, and then stopped, his immediate need sated.

"Oh, that was so good," Myra whispered. "I loved feeling you inside me, baby!"

Charlie was young and not particularly sophisticated, though that didn't seem to matter to Myra, but he felt fortunate that he could find a girl who was so willing to indulge his frequent - if short lived - randy urges. Myra was the best, and for that matter, only steady girlfriend that he'd had so far in his young life. Charlie had always been kind of an outsider, so he had turned to body building as a field that he could pursue and perhaps excel in.

He really was quite a hunk, 6', 2" and 190 pounds of muscle, and many girls his age would be turned on by his body, even if his lovemaking skills and intellectual prowess weren't top drawer. Still, he seemed to make Myra happy and usually that's enough.

"So, what are you doing today, hon?" he asked. She smiled.

"Well, I'm going to be on the internet a lot - girl stuff, you know, and then I've got an audition this afternoon for a small part in an off-Broadway thing. Wish me luck, okay?"

"Sure," he said. "But I'd hire you in a minute...in a second, even, sight unseen because you're so beautiful!"

She didn't bother to point out to him the flaw in his logic, but instead asked, "Could you do some things for me while you're out? I'm going to be tied up and could really use your help."

"Okay," he said, almost eagerly. She smiled again.

"Would you like to do me again?" she asked, a slight smile on her face. He grinned.

"You bet!" He clambered between her legs, already splayed out on the bed and his cock, rampant once again, slipped inside her, his cum from before serving as an adequate - and only - lubricant. He pumped her enthusiastically, her hips rolling and shaking as she exclaimed in passion.

"Oh fuck, Charlie! God..yes, yes, yesss! Oh fuck yeah I'm cumming, your cock is so big inside me, you're so wonderful baby!" she nearly sobbed the final, and Charlie gathered her small frame into his muscular arms, and just held her, deeply in love with the most wonderful girl in the whole world.

***

Charlie looked at the list on his phone as he drove away from Myra's apartment in Clifton, New Jersey. She'd been kind enough to let him live with her for the three weeks that he's been on his own, and while his mother had been upset at him abruptly leaving the family home in West Nyack, his father had breathed out a sigh of relief at Charlie finding such a nice, and hot, girlfriend.

He was a good part envious, as Myra's looks were the kind that a man of any age would find very attractive. Many women too, if it came to that. But Myra seemed totally captivated by the boy, and that was good enough for his father, even if mother was a little surprised by the turn of events.

Charlie visited the named places. For some reason Myra just wanted him to look and see if the places listed had the items on her list. She didn't want him to actually buy any. A gun shop, hardware store and a costume store. She had explained that she didn't have the money for the items she needed, but would have enough later. It made sense to Charlie, who knew quite a bit about the God of War video game, but little about the rest of the internet, such as Google or Amazon.

In any case, he spent the afternoon dutifully visiting these places, and politely telling any inquisitive clerks that "I'm just looking" when he was asked if he needed help.

Lourdes

"This place is so nice," Lourdes Vega said to her friend and companion, Maria Lopez. "Spending all day at the State House in Trenton, I lose track of the great restaurants here in Newark. Ironbound has always been so special to me and my family."

"You've got to come home, girlfriend," Maria said, smiling, as she gently rocked the stroller with its precious contents, her beautiful one year old son, Javier. "And you've got to tie the knot with Michael, too."

"Ai, I'd love to," Lourdes said, ruefully. "But I'm on the Attorney General's protection detail in Trenton and Princeton for at least the next year. After that I think I can see about getting a job, maybe with the Newark Mayor's office. It would be nice to get back to the block again, I miss seeing my family every weekend."

"Ladies, your drinks," the smiling female server at Julio's Coffee Shop said as she brought the two flavored chais to the table. "You had the pomegranate, I think," she said, smiling at the smartly dressed single woman, black-haired, brown eyed, medium height and slim and fit, with a pleasant but not obvious feminine body shape.

"Yes," nodded Lourdes. "And Maria..."

"Strawberry for Javier and me," she said.

The server set her drink down, and asked, "Is there anything else I can get you ladies? Some pastries, perhaps?" Both women declined, and thanking her, returned to their conversation.

Linda

"C'mon Linda, just one more set for the rec league championship," the handsome man in volleyball gear said to the tall, cute blonde standing with her hands on her knees. She was attractive and well groomed, and clearly upper class in looks, dress and deportment.

"Give me a chance to catch my breath, at least," she replied, grinning tiredly. She looked around for her bottle of water and spied it next to her bag along the back wall of the Princeton high school gym, then went to recover it for some much needed hydration.

"I wouldn't have asked you to play on our coed team if I didn't think you could take it, slugger," he joked. Victor Donaldson was happy that his younger sister could find the time to join him in his favorite sport -- it didn't hurt that she was good at it, having lettered in volleyball and track in high school. They'd not been particularly close as children, and this was one of those fleeting opportunities for them to connect since their parents had passed on.

"Besides, when I win the State Assembly seat in the upcoming election, I'll have to quit the league - and you know these losers will go nowhere without at least one Donaldson around to make them winners! I promised Amelia that I'd recruit you for the team to carry on the tradition."

"What was that about losers, dear?" said Amelia Donaldson, her brown hair cut short, befitting her more matronly status, though she was only forty and the mother of a teenage girl, as she came in from the chill of the New Jersey winter night. "You didn't lose tonight, I hope. I'm going to feel guilty for being late."

"No, no problem, honey," Victor replied. "We're just about to wrap this championship up, and then go celebrate. With my wife and sister here, the celebration shall be so sweet!"

"Watch the boasting, Victor," Amelia warned her husband, but smiled.

As it turned out,

"it ain't boasting if you can back it up.

" Fifteen minutes later, gold-painted plastic rec league trophy in hand, the team of friends and coworkers headed out to celebrate winning their league.

Linda Donaldson had returned to the central New Jersey area after receiving her BA from Stanford, and had taken a job teaching at the exclusive Lawrenceville School located near Trenton geographically, but light years away socially and financially. Still, Linda was very active in the Trenton Area Soup Kitchen, and hoped to do more for the poor as she settled back into the area.

Emily

The forty year old man was returning from his volunteer time at the church he had first organized, and now operated and preached in on Sundays. His was a small church and congregation, numbering no more than 200 men, women and children in total, and he depended on its members pitching in to keep the building and grounds up. He was hoping and praying that his wife would begin to show more interest in the church, maybe even assist him in evangelizing to the congregation.

It was late, after dark and the man, named Ira Taylor, already missed his wife, a much younger woman named Emily. They were childless, but he often thought of their flock as their children. They had a small potato farm on the outer reaches of Suffolk County on New York's Long Island from which they derived their living, as the church was certainly not there to profit their pocketbooks, but only the souls of its members.

As he neared his home, he saw a figure lying by the side of the road, the figure of a young woman. He immediately stopped his pickup truck - the same one he used on the farm - and not thinking of his own safety, rushed out to see what had happened, and how he might help. He found an attractive, short haired young woman apparently unconscious, perhaps in her early twenties, her clothes ripped and torn, and apparently beaten.

"Miss, can you hear me?" he gasped. "Are you conscious? Are you hurt?"

"Yes," the girl moaned, her eyes fluttering open. "Yes..."

"Can you move at all?" The kneeling man asked. "Where does it hurt?"

"Please...call my office," the prone girl said weakly.

"You need to be taken care of first," the man said. "There's no cell service out here, though. Can you stand, at all? I can take you to our home and call for help there, okay?"

The girl nodded and began trying to rise. She succeeded, but only with help from Ira. He got her into his car, and drove off with her for the remaining five miles to their small farmhouse. Along the way the girl nodded off.

When they arrived, the man called for his wife, a modestly attractive woman in her early thirties, and the two helped the girl into the farmhouse, where they put her into their guest bedroom.

"We can call the police in the morning," the man said. "She should rest for now, I think her wounds are only superficial." In the light of subsequent events, he might have had cause to second-guess his decision.

Chapter 2

Myra

Myra watched Charlie leave on his errand, then went to the bathroom, and carefully and methodically douched, to remove every bit of Charlie's semen from inside of her. Then she dried herself - on the outside of her mons only, as her anticipation of the next half hour or so was already making her wet inside.

She removed all her clothes, and then put on a fresh pair of panties. She lay on the bed - after having remade it first - then closed her eyes and began teasing herself. Her fingers roamed over her upper body, caressing cheeks, shoulders then focusing on her upper torso, teasingly touching her breasts, her flesh soft, warm and full, pleasingly so. She could feel the flesh of her nipples tightening as they became erect, a fact which those fingers soon confirmed externally.

She shivered with pleasure to feel her own touch at her nipples, knowing just where the borderline between painful pleasure and pleasurable pain lie, and pinching and scratching her breasts and nipples so as to skate along that line. Her hips shook with small orgasms as she did, every touch that made her wince in pain also making her moan in pleasure.

After about fifteen minutes, she slowly moved her fingers down to her pussy, now quite wet and dripping. She thought that she could smell herself now, and the thought brought on more orgasms. Along the way she caressed her flat stomach, nails scratching along abdominal muscles, and caressing about her cute pierced navel. She wondered idly if Charlie had even noticed that she had a piercing there, and then shrugged. This was about her, not him.

Her fingers caressed her hips along the puckered elastic of the waistband of her tiny panties, and then slipped under like the welcome intruders they were. They trekked through the tiny, neat forest of her pubic hair to her purplish, swollen clitoris, its hood already retracted and exposed for pleasure. Wisely she avoided that temptation and instead stroked and caressed along her labia, her fingertips soft on her smooth skin there.

As she descended toward her perineum, she dipped inside the silk wet heat of her slit, picking up welcome viscous liquid richly oozing as a result of her not yet satiated desires. She skated her fingertips over that fleshy plump source of pleasure, hips rocking as she did, soft jolts of pleasure filing her center. Returning, her fingers dipped deeper inside herself. It was true that she would be responsive to a hard fucking, as fingers are capable, but from someone much more experienced and nuanced than her current clumsy and rushed lover.

In her imagination, she was with a more experienced lover endowed with the features that she coveted. "Oh god yes," she gasped sincerely, "fuck me deeply, hard and fast...please," she whined, lips already touching hers in a deep but gentle kiss, warm, wet tongue dominating her mouth, forcing her to suck on it in return for its expected pleasure-giving elsewhere.

She moaned in the ultimate pleasure, a long, hard orgasm twisting her like a reed in a whirlwind, happily helpless before her imaginary lover.

She lay tense as ecstasy filled her, then after long minutes of that pleasure unwinding inside of her, insinuated a hand behind her, enjoying the plump warmth of her own well-rounded buttocks, then slipping her fingers between those soft, warm and damp cheeks, her index finger seeking out the wetness that had seeped down from her pussy, coating her finger in cream then slipping that digit deep inside her unwilling, resisting anal opening, a sweet assault on her most intimate orifice that brought her once again to the heights of pleasure, sweet clouds of pleasure floating her above the bed, divine ecstasy of the orgasm.

She gradually withdrew her finger from her ass, and her now wrinkly fingers from her cunt, and brought them to her nose, gratefully inhaling her body's pleasant odors, so different but each so rich, and then licking them, her sweet feminine scent of carnal passion, small tremors filling her, a farewell to the day's pleasures.

And then work to be done. She dressed herself comfortably, panties, tee shirt and socks, and then moved to the computer, signing on with Charlie's log on.

She had conspiracy sites to visit, and postings to be made on numerous message boards, and purchases to be made from websites that I very much doubt that either you or I have ever heard of. There was so much clumsy, detectable cleverness to be spread throughout the world.

***

"Ooh, Charlie, did I tell you - I got the job! Well...

a

job, doing a commercial, for TV!" Myra gushed the next day.

"Oh, yeah? That's great! Hey, we need to celebrate...you know..."

Myra displayed her acting skills for her man. "Oh yes, baby..." she cooed submissively, her hand against his cheek, fingertips stroking the stubble of his not quite mature beard. "It's just that..."

Sensing a delay in his reward, Charlie said, "What? What is it, baby?"

"It's just that I need a co-star...someone who can play my boyfriend...it's not hard, but who can I feel comfortable with?" She looked thoughtful, but said no more.

"Wait...what about me?" Charlie said.

"What...you?" Myra said in evident surprise. Her eyes openly displayed every step of her thought process. "Well...gosh, why not? You're really good at being a boyfriend...and it's pretty much just doing what you already do..." She really needed to set the hook, though.

"But no, you've never acted...have you?"

"In fourth grade I did...and the talent show in high school my senior year," he offered hopefully.

"Would you rehearse with me, I mean, a lot? Because it's really important that this be perfect, it could be the thing that makes us both stars, I mean like Justin Bieber and Katy Perry level stars, Charlie!"

Her growing enthusiasm was contagious, and the boy readily agreed. Smiling, Myra gave him his short term reward for swallowing the hook, which was completely painless and satisfying...if a little boring for her. After all, that part was only two minutes out of her life. Not so much compared to the hours of training he would need leading up to The Event.

Lourdes

"Agent Vega, how are you today?" asked Lourdes' supervisor, Bill Conklin, retired a decade before from the Central Intelligence Agency and triple-dipping his military and federal government retirements working with the Governor of New Jersey's security office.

"Good, sir," she replied, "though I wouldn't complain if the weekend were a little bit longer."

"I'm with you on that," he said, grinning. "My grandkids, Tammy and Mark, stayed with Miranda and I this weekend, and I don't mind admitting that I'm a little sore."

"It must be going around, sir. I spent Saturday with an old high school friend and her son, and I'm just so tired. I hope it's not the flu..."

"But you're okay, right?" he asked. "I want you to work on a security detail this week with a State Deputy Assistant AG. We're just being a little cautious, as he's looking into a local group that's been alleged as being 'suspicious.'"

"Yes sir, I'm absolutely fit," Lourdes responded, standing a little straighter. "Just need a cup of coffee."

Bill smiled. "You'll be pleased to know that the State of New Jersey will be supplying you with both all the coffee you can reasonably consume, AND an absolutely free packet of information regarding your assignment. Packet's on your desk and the coffee's in a packet next to the coffee maker. All you have to do is add some of that free New Jersey drinking water and moderately expensive electricity to complete the set. And if you don't mind -- this is a request, not an order -- I'd like a cup too, with milk and sugar."

"Non-dairy creamer okay?" she asked.

"Are you telling me they closed the gourmet coffee shop in the break room again?" He shook his head.

"Yes sir, something about cockroaches, I think," she responded, laughing. "Coffee'll be right up."

"Thank you, Agent Vega," he responded sincerely. "I owe you."

Lourdes passed by the workstation of Elizabeth Monroe, a transfer agent from the New Jersey State Police Marine Services Bureau.

"Hi Liz," she said brightly.

"Oh, hi, Lourdes," the blonde replied. "Good weekend?"

"Yes, I got home to Newark and saw some old friends. I kind of miss the old neighborhood, y'know?"

"Not really," Liz replied. "I grew up in Kansas, came out to the East Coast to go to school and never looked back."

"You don't miss your family?" Lourdes asked, almost incredulous. In her life, family was everything.