"Anyway so yeah, that's my whole stupid thing with Target," Brie said.
"Really, it's true," Lillie said into the rearview mirror, speaking to Gwen in the backseat. "That's why we always have to go so far out of our way to Walmart. Ridiculous, right?"
"Come on babe," Brie said. "You seriously want a flickle? While you're driving?"
"Huh," Gwen said. She had no idea what 'flickle' meant. She shifted a little so that the butt plug stuffed into her asshole got a little more comfortable.
Inside the car were three women: Brie Brayden, 30 (real name Brianna Brinchard), her miniature wife Lillie Loo, 26 (real name Mary Ellen Czarneski) and their guest, Gwen Chandler, 28 (real name Gwen Chandler). They glided through the streetlights deep into Brooklyn--the Sheepshead Bay neighborhood--in Brie and Lillie's dark grey BMW X7 SUV, and late October twilight had almost come. They were on their way to a house where they would join two other women for a game. A sex game. A
group
sex game.
Very much a fan of
any
kind of group sex, when the cute couple had asked Gwen if she wanted to join them, it hadn't been a question. What
had
been a question were the details of the game--when Gwen had asked, Brie and Lillie had just looked at each other and laughed. "It's kind of weird," Lillie had said. Sitting there in the backseat, Gwen only knew as much about the game as they had shared with her through an email--a long email that was essentially a short dictionary. Her homework assignment had been to memorize all the words and phrases. She had done that, but she still didn't quite get it. It
was
weird. She had never heard of anything sexual quite like it.
Ever.
Of course, like all games, this one had a name. The game was called 'The Princess and Her Ladies.' Gwen wasn't exactly turned on by any of it as far as it had been described to her, but she was fascinated, perplexed really, by this group's apparent giddy enthusiasm for the whole strange-sounding thing. The four of them--Brie, Lillie, and the two other women they were meeting--had played it together many times already. Gwen had not the faintest idea that this game would change sex forever for her, that this night would cement in her mind and other places that sex with women, and this specific kind of sex, was the only sex she'd ever want again.
"For real, here's her place," Brie said. "Look how huge it is." The mammoth SUV pulled up next to a smaller parked car, and Lillie carefully, slowly turned the wheel and reversed the thing back into the spot. It was an excellent parallel parking performance, indicative of an experienced city driver.
"Oh, do you remember what to say when she opens the door?" Brie said.
"Uhhh yep, I sure do, ya fuckin' weirdos," Gwen said.
"Really, come on, dude," Brie said. "You have to take it seriously! Or I'm--or we're not--." She broke into a fancy British falsetto. "We shan't be inviting you to any of our parties a-gaine."
"Oh I'm taking it seriously alright. I mean, Jesus."
"Well good."
Neatly parallel parked at last, the huge car finally stopped fidgeting back and forth, and the three women gathered their things. They opened the big doors and stepped down out of the car--Brie called it the 'Dyke Tank' when Lillie wasn't around--then gathered on the sidewalk. Up on a short grass hill, all along that block, was a giant structure of four-story row homes.
Dead in the middle of that block of row homes, just a few houses down from where they parked, was their destination. They walked in a row on the sidewalk, smiling and chatting.
Outside, it was fairly cold for October 22nd. Lillie, at a startling 4'9, 79 lbs, was an incredibly tiny person inside of a puffy pink glob of layered shirts, sweaters and jackets, with long skinny legs in white leggings sticking out of the end of the glob. She was in every sense of the word a pixie, and she embraced it. Her brown hair stood off of her tiny head in pigtails that bobbed as she walked, and she wore a sparkly cat-ear headband. Brie, much bigger than her wife, walked on one side of Lillie in a light red tracksuit, her upper-back-length hair bright blue with a touch of purple highlight. Gwen, on her other side, wore high-waist tight dark jeans, a light grey designer sweater with a huge turtleneck, and an extremely fashionable tan leather jacket. Her long black hair was tied up ultra tight in the 'Ariana' style, with her ponytail swinging back and forth just above her lower back. Lillie sported a tiny white backpack, Gwen had a particularly expensive lavender Gucci handbag strung over one shoulder, and Brie had nothing but a big clear Nalgene. Gwen wore Jimmy Choo stilettos. The other girls wore cheap sneakers.
Together, the three of them looked like they were going to three separate places; one to some kind of fan convention, one to a first date at an exclusive restaurant, and one to pick up some weed and maybe a sandwich.
Once they reached the front door of the towering row home, Brie rang the doorbell. She rang it a few more times after that, and Lillie texted the woman who owned it. Nearly two minutes went by before the door opened. It only opened a crack.
Reaching out through the thin opening was a hand and a slender arm. On one of the fingers on that hand was a massive rock, a diamond ring that probably could have financed its own BMW.
"Give me my Brie and my Miss Loo, please," the voice behind the door said through the opening. Brie and Lillie laughed, and pushed their way into the opened door. Inside, the place was ablaze with light, and cool bleats of music seeped out.
"So," the voice said. "You want to play. With us. Is that right?"
"Love to," Gwen said. She laughed. "I mean, yes please."
"Awesome! That's what I want to hear." The hand gripped the door and threw it wide open. Standing right behind it was a woman in her late 30s or early 40s in amazing shape. She wore white Converse low-tops with no socks, skimpy jean cutoff shorts with the pockets coming out of the frizzy bottoms, a tight orange tank top that said 'Stay Calm and Love Horses,' and a little plastic red purse strung over one shoulder. She was pretty, and had likely been drop-dead gorgeous in high school, her face just a little past its prime beauty. Her long blonde hair, parted directly down the middle, fell all around her deeply tanned skin into lovely, lustrous curls. Behind her were Brie, Lillie, and another face farther back, a dark face with black hair.
"So tell me," the woman said. "Why is it called 'lala'?"
Here it was. The part Gwen couldn't believe she had to do, and something she really didn't even understand. Yet.
"Umm, because you go like this--" Gwen opened her mouth as wide as she could, stuck her tongue out, and began waggling it up and down as she made the sound: "Lah-lah-lah-lah-lah-lah." The other four women went wild.
So began Gwen's initiation into this weird club. She was skeptical, but she had to find out what it was all about.
"Even though you
kiiinda alllmost
rolled your eyes while you did it, I can't wait to play with you," the woman said. "My name's Laurel. Hiya!"
"Rad! Hi, I'm Gwen. Yeah sorry, it's just like--"
"Super, super weird, totally. Totally. I was kind of weirded out too at first, and stuff."
She backed into the house, and Gwen stepped through. It was warm inside, almost kind of hot.
Laurel shut the door behind her, and the whole gang moved out of the front alcove and into the bright front living room. Lillie had already taken off most of her layers and wore only the white ornate leggings, a red microskirt, and a pink tube top. Her ghostly pale skin almost matched the leggings. Brie had taken off her tracksuit and wore a blue bra and white boy shorts with blue stripes. She was barefoot.
Apart from those two, who were now pushed up against each other as the loving, sickeningly stable married couple that they were, stood another woman in her late 20s or early 30s. This one blew Gwen away, and her heart fluttered.
Standing in a hyper confident, strong, sexy pose, the woman was breathtaking. She had dark, shining skin, gigantic brown eyes, and the blackest hair Gwen had ever seen in a very cool, punkish cut. Some of it was buzzed, some of it was teased, and the rest was slung back over one shoulder. She wore a bright yellow shirt with a little tiny pocket in the corner, and the shirt was short enough so that it was basically a crop top, exposing her midriff. She was barefoot, too, and the only other thing she wore were pink and green floral bikini bottoms. The woman was absolutely exotic, some ethnic mix of miraculous rarity.
"Hey," Gwen said, walking right up and standing before her. They locked eyes. "I'm Gwen."
"Awesome, I'm Carrie. It's so cool that you're here."
"Let's get this game started," Gwen said, staring into Carrie's eyes. Gwen had come to fuck.
"
Let's actually
just chill out first," Laurel said, coming up next to Carrie and laughing. Everyone else laughed too. "Follow me."
In Gwen's head, her tongue was already crammed into Carrie's exotic asshole, and she herself was furiously coming into someone else's mouth, but she shook that away. Patience. Gwen had fucked Brie and Lillie already. She was itching to get started; she hadn't had any new pussy in days.
She took off her jacket and threw it on an extravagant chair near the front alcove, then began to follow the rest of them. Lillie turned around and checked her out. Suddenly, she grabbed Gwen by the top of the jeans, got down on her knees, unbuttoned the top button and began tearing her tight jeans down off of her, exposing tiny green girl briefs, all in the span of a few seconds.
