Last Call Ladies Pt 02

All characters are over eighteen years of age.

*****

Janice discovers that fear makes her super horny.

Chapter Three: Rude Awakening

Janice:

I was having the strangest dream. I stood beside my bed, naked, one hand playing with my clit, the other one pinching my nipples, while Mr Johnson hammered away at Anya in the missionary position. Anya had her long legs way up in the air and pulled back almost to her ears, holding them by the ankles. Mr Johnson was fucking her so hard that her breath was coming out of her in great huffs, each one followed by a low, ecstatic moan.

I crawled into bed so I could get my face right down in the action. I watched with fascination as Mr Johnson's thick cock went back and forth inside my slutty roommate. His Johnson was so big that it was stretched even Anya's well-used pussy. It was like he was fucking a tight elastic band that clung to his meat, expanding and contracting with each stroke. It looked so good, I took stopped playing with my clit and started frigging myself with three fingers. Somehow, it really turned me on to see Anya getting fucked so hard.

After watching Anya's twat getting pounded for a while, my attention drifted from her flexing pussy to Mr Johnson's glorious butt. His powerful young muscles clenched and released with each stroke, the rhythm never faltering. His glutes moved relentlessly under his taut skin. His buns looked good enough to eat. The next thing I knew, I was licking them all over.

I licked, but that wasn't enough, soon I was biting his butt cheeks, taking the solid meat between my teeth and growling like a hungry wolf. There was a nasty smell to it all. Anya's dripping pussy, her sweat, my pussy, my sweat, and of course, Mr Johnson's ass. It must have been strong, because I don't usually smell things in my dreams.

I went down and tried to lick his balls, but even though they were really tight, they were swinging back and forth too fast for me to catch them. I moved my curious tongue up to the place where guys love to be touched. I had touched a lot of guys there, but I had never even

thought

of licking them so close to, you know...

Drawn by a shameful but undeniable urge, I kept going up, licking the insides of his butt cheeks.

I don't know about you, but I have two little voices in my head. I picture them as little angel and little devil version of me. They both use my voice; the angel's is sugary and a little bossy. The devil's is slick and teasing. I usually only hear them when I am about to do something very bad. Of course, when I'm drunk I can't hear them at all.

"Just what do you think you're doing Janice Lucia Rizzo?" my angel demanded, her voice going all squeaky with shock.

I hesitated. Putting my face right in there between Mr Johnson's cheeks did seem like a

really

dirty thing to do, but I

really

wanted to do it." I kept licking, getting closer.

"

Jaaaanice

, don't you dare!" my angel exclaimed.

"Go ahead, what's the big deal? It's all just a dream, right?" my devil said.

"Is it?" my angel said to my devil. "Is it really, you foul, sneaky beast?"

Then everything shifted, as they do in dreams.

I was on the floor, on my elbows and knees with my back arched and my ass sticking way up in the air like I was doing the dirty dog. Anya was sitting in front of me with her legs spread wide, her pussy just inches from my face.

"Don't you dare lick that pussy! What the devil has gotten in to you, Janice?" My angel demanded.

My devil just gave a throaty chuckle to that. I wanted to lick her pussy. It looked tasty, and anyway, Mr Johnson seemed to be licking

my

pussy, so I felt like it was my responsibility to pitch in.

I licked my lips, right then nothing in the world seemed sexier than licking Anya's dripping pussy.

Then I had another surprise. "Oh!" I exclaimed.

Mr Johnson wasn't licking my pussy any more, he had

definitely

moved up and was licking at the inside of my deep bum crack. I could feel his strong fingers pulling my cheeks apart.

"Oh, oh, oh!"

"Janice you stand up right this instant!" My angel demanded, but I could barely hear her over my panting and moaning.

"Ohhhhh, but it feels soooo good. And ahhh, ah, ah, ah. Is that your fingers in my pussy Mr Johnson?"

My devil chuckled. "Sometimes it better to receive than to give," he said.

It was filthy, and it was wonderful. Mr Johnson quickly brought me to the edge of an orgasm, but I didn't want to come. I didn't want this nasty bum licking to stop, ever.

"You dirty little slut. You're no better than a little doggie!" My angel shouted at me.

"Arff, arff," I replied, my tongue hanging out. Anya's pussy so close. She scooched her bum closer.

I slid the very tip of my tongue up her swollen slit. "Good doggie," Anya said. I felt her hand patting my head.

Then it felt like I was being spanked real hard, and also my nipples were being pinched. I moaned and groaned and ground my bum back into Mr Johnson's face.

"Janice, Janice..." I could hear Anya calling to me from a long distance away. "Janice you're dreaming."

And all at once, with Mr Johnson's tongue in my butthole and mine in Anya's cunt, I had this chilling doubt. Was I dreaming,

or

remembering?

Suddenly I was laying on my back with Mr Johnson's hard vigorous dick stroking between my breasts. Anya was licking

my

pussy. I wanted to cry, it felt so good; Anya's talented tongue lashing my pussy while Mr Johnson hammered my with his tireless cock. I raised my head to try and catch its big, purple helmet with my tongue, wanting to get a taste of it.

"Mmmm, mmmm," I moaned. "Yes, yesss, give it to me!"

I could feel Mr Johnson's cock vibrating, getting ready to come. I could feel Anya's tongue thrumming away at my clit getting me ready to come. I stuck my tongue out further, opened my mouth wider. I was shocked at myself, because I'd never swallowed before in my life, but now I waited eagerly as his cock started to spurt...

"Ouch," I exclaimed. Instead of a mouthful of semen I got Anya's sharp elbow between my ribs.

"Janice," Anya hissed, jabbing me again.

"Hey, quit that," I complained, annoyed and deeply disappointed.

"Mr Johnson is gone," Anya declared.

"Oh shit," I sat up, my heart jumping like it had been given a hit from a defibrillator.

"And there is someone at the door," she added as she bounced out of bed.

"What? Oh shit, oh shit," I replied rubbing furiously at my gritty eyes. My head was pounding as wickedly as my heart.

The cheerful 'ding dong' of my doorbell suddenly sounded like the bells of hell. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and then had to wait a second for the room to stop swaying.

Anya was peeking out the window. Bright morning light streamed around the edges of my frilly curtains.

"There's a man down there looking at the bumper of your car," she said.

I wanted to wail, but my throat was so dry it came out as a rusty squeak. I almost peed the bed. Maybe it was the sudden awareness of my aching bladder that clued me in to the sound of running water. It was coming from the en suite.

"Mr Johnson's in the shower," I managed to say. That calmed me down a little.

"The man's gone, I can't see him now," Anya said from the window. "I think he's..."

Ding Dong

"Bloody Hell."

"Oh, shit," I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. "What do we do? What do we do?"

Anya came and gave me a hug. We clung to each other. Hoping, hoping...

Ding Dong

I became a little hysterical. "It's the police. Oh God, I'm going to jail, I'm going to jail. Anya, I can't..."

Anya pushed me away and gave me a hard slap across the face with her big right hand.

"Hey!! What the hell did you do that for?!" I wailed, touching my hot cheek.

"To calm you down."

"Do I look calmed down?! And now I have a big red mark on my face!"

"Quit panicking, Janice."

I reached up, took one of Anya's nubby little nipples between my thumb and forefinger and gave it a hard twist.

"You quit panicking," I growled.

"Ouch, oh you little..." Before I could get away Anya grabbed one of my big nipples and gave it a pinch so hard that I dropped to my knees.

"Owwwwwww, Bitch!" I exclaimed.

Ding Dong

"He's not going away. Quick, throw something on. We have to answer the door or they'll know something's wrong," Anya commanded.

"But they'll take us to jail."

"We're kidnappers. If they were going to arrest us, they would have come through the door with a SWAT team. There's no way they could know anything about us this quickly. It must be something else."

Anya was doing her best to be calm, however, she didn't seem to notice that it was

my

nightie she grabbed from the chair, threw over her shoulders and pulled over her long arms.

"You go," I suggested.

"Oh no, we absolutely

must

stay together in the face of the authorities, come on, come on!"

"What about Mr Johnson?"

"Well, he hasn't made a run for it. Let's hope he likes long showers, come on!"

I grabbed Anya's robe off the floor as she pulled me to my feet. "But I'm scared."

Anya bent down, took my head in her hands and gave me a fierce kiss. Stunned, I instinctively parted my lips and let her tongue roughly fuck my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her narrow shoulders and hugged us together, mashing our breasts. Hers felt wonderfully cool. We kept kissing and I mounted her thigh like a shameless bitch in heat. Where the hell did that come from, I wondered? What kind of message was I sending?

"Oh shut up," I murmured before my angel could bitch at me, and kept humping.

Anya's firm thighs made a serious impression on my sensitive, over worked pussy. I forgot about everything else; Mr Johnson, my looming incarceration, my fifty years of straight life, and surrendered to this strange need that had taken me. Anya's big hands slid down my sides, took a firm grip on my ass cheeks and squeezed. Instantly I felt an orgasm building.

And just like that, I let out a long sighing 'ahhhhhh' and creamed all over her leg. She kept squeezing my butt until I went limp.

"Better?" she asked. Anya didn't seem at all surprised by what, to me, was our first serious lezzie encounter.

"Yeah, a little," I sighed.

"Come on, then."

As far as I knew, that was the first time she'd ever given me an orgasm, but it suddenly occurred to me that after last night, I couldn't be too sure. I had been very drunk, and for a while kind of in a crazy sex-trance. God knows what happened. I bent down with a groan and picked up Anya's wrap. My furry, low-heeled 'come fuck me' slippers were right there, so I slipped into them.

Ding Dong

Anya led the way down the stairs, my short nightie flapping behind her. I followed as best I could with her long robe tangling around my feet. Half way down I almost went ass over tea kettle. I kicked off the slippers and made it to the bottom in bare feet.

We paused to look at each other in the foyer. With all the excitement, it was like the first time we'd actually

seen

each other since we'd passed out last night.

"Oh God," Anya exclaimed. "Look at you!" she brushed roughly at my hair with her long fingers.

"Jesus, you should talk," I replied.

Anya's long, dark, reddish-brunette hair tumbled unevenly down both sides of her face past her shoulders all tangled and frizzy. Strands of hair had come loose and were stuck to her broad, splotchy forehead like wispy bangs. Her dark eyeshadow was smudged out past her eyelids, and her mascara had dried in streaks below her eyes. Her long, false eyelashes were clumped together with cum.

Her pale lipstick was mostly gone, but her lower lip looked even plumper and darker than usual. From sucking so much cock? I tentatively bit my lower lip. It felt swollen too. And I realized that my jaw was sore. God, what a night we must have had!

My nightie gave Anya plenty of room in the bosom, but it barely came down to the top of her closely cropped bush. Her swollen pussy lips could be seen peeking out between her lean, lightly cum crusted thighs. Her right one gleamed with my recent deposit.

My pussy was throbbing, and also now I had to pee. Anya's shimmering blue wrap came all the way down to my ankles, but I had no belt, and I was having trouble holding it closed. The silky material kept slithering off my shoulders and gaping open all over the place.

Anya had gone from brushing at my hair to trying to pat it down. "My Lord, you have a lot of hair," she muttered.

I caught a blast of stale perfume, sweat and all the 'juices' that she'd gotten all over herself while we were trying to 'mark' Mr Johnson.

"You stink," I said.

"You reek like a Levantine whore," she replied.

I winced. I did have a much

earthier

aroma than Anya, even though she was an ex-Russian, British tart.

"Never mind," she added. "It works with our story. Let his nose be witness!"

Ding Dong. Knock, knock, knock!

"What do we say?" I asked.

"Stay with the plan, and follow my lead. Now be cool, baby, and open the door."

The man was at the door was a short, stocky guy with a big belly and a hairline that had receded all the way to the back of his head. I might have thought he was a salesman except for the casually confident way he stood there with his hands on his hips.

He wore a shiny, black leather jacket over top of a dark dress shirt, with lots of curly hair massed at the open collar. With his big nose and double chin he looked more like a mid-level mob boss than a cop. In fact he looked like most of my second and third cousins back in Cicero.

"Good morning ladies," he began and then stopped.

He gave us the once over, his beady eyes widening. I don't think that he had been expecting to be greeted by a couple of thoroughly fucked-over old sluts.

He licked his lips and coughed. "My apologies for awakening you from your slumbers, but it is a matter of some urgency that brings me to your doorstep, so to speak," he said.

I managed a smile, but couldn't get any words out. I didn't know if I should go for friendly or concerned, and wound up biting my lower lip and squinting at him. I did need to squint a little. Sometime during the night I'd taken out my contacts, but I had no idea where my glasses were.

Anya didn't say anything either. She must have felt the fresh morning air blowing up her wazoo. With a tiny little yelp, she slipped behind me and stood with her hands on my shoulders, looking over my head. He waited, but we still didn't speak. He probably figured us for a couple of air-headed bimbos. Good.

"I'm Special Agent Maranto, Homeland Security," he said.

He held up a black leather holder with a silver badge in it. There were words on it in blue, but even squinting, I couldn't read them.

"Homeland Security! Why does it have to be Homeland Security," I blurted.

"May, I." Anya stepped out from behind me, even though she could have reached over my shoulder.

As she extended her hand, Maranto's eyes dropped immediately to her exposed crotch.

"Certainly," he replied, relinquishing the badge.

I brushed at my hair with both hands, trying to get some of it out of my eyes. "We must look awful," I said, finally finding my voice "We were up very late last night. Just got to bed."

Maranto took his eyes off Anya's crotch and gave me a stony-faced look. His big, hairy nostrils flared, no doubt catching a strong whiff of familiar Italian sweat and overwrought pussy. The corner of his small mouth twitched, but the expression in his eyes didn't change.

"

Boy

did we get it on last night," I exclaimed, rolling my eyes. I don't think I've said 'get it on' since I was seventeen.

"What is this all about, Agent Maranto?" Anya asked coolly, handing him back his badge.

She slid back in behind me and gripped my shoulders firmly with both hands.

"Is this your normal place of domicile, Mrs...?" he asked, looking at Anya.

"Petrova. Ms Petrova. I don't see what that has to do with anything. Perhaps if you told us why you've roused us out of bed on a Saturday morning..."

"Petrova, eh? You don't sound much like a Ruskie," he replied suspiciously.

I had a feeling for Maranto's type, and Anya was handling it all wrong. Fear of jail making me uncharacteristically bold, I intervened.

"This is my house." I let go of Anya's robe, let it slide off my shoulders and gape open as I leaned forward to shake the Special Agent's hand.

"Janice Rizzo," I said, pretending that I didn't notice that I was giving him a full frontal.

I'm not normally what you would call and exhibitionist, but I'm not normally a kidnapper or a lesbian either. Nothing was normal anymore.

"Ms Janice Rizzo, I'm divorced, took back my maiden name." I brushed at my hair with both hands, opening my robe even further. 'Letting my glory shine,' as my mother used to say.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Maranto replied, staring directly at my jiggling boobs.

"Oh, pardon me!" I exclaimed and wrapped myself up with a sheepish grin.

I didn't have to fake the blush that I felt warming my entire face and body. I cast a glance over his shoulder. No neighbors or strangers were out on the sidewalk or in the nearby yards. There was a dark SUV parked at the curb.

Maranto continued to stare at my chest, maybe hoping the curtain of the peep show would open again, but after a minute or so, he looked up at me. His face had softened. He didn't speak.

I was clenching my butt cheeks like mad to keep my groaning bladder in check. I could feel Anya vibrating up against my back, her knee nudging me. Not so much from fear, as impatience. Then it occurred to me that we had to move things along. Mr Johnson wasn't going to stay in the shower all day.

"So, how can we help you, Special Agent Maranto?" I asked with my best cutesy smile.

"Ah yes, the serious matter at hand. A young man was abducted in your neighborhood last night. A couple of blocks from here at the corner of Orchard and Franklin. Scooped up right off the street."

"Abducted!" I exclaimed. My cheerful smile starting to twitch.

"So it would seem. And very professionally done too. The victim is a nineteen-year old Caucasian male, Six foot, hundred and eighty pounds or so, close cropped dark hair, very fit."

"Is he one of your agents?" Anya Asked.

"Let's just say that he is a person of interest to the Department of Homeland Security."

"What' his name?" Anya asked.

"I am not at liberty to divulge that at this time. We're canvassing the neighborhood, asking if anyone saw anything suspicious last night. You ladies mentioned that you were on the town into the early hours."

"Yes, until late, very late. We took a taxi home," Anya said.

"Did you see anything of an unusual nature?"

"Oh no, we were pretty drunk. Well,

very

drunk. Uh, that's why we took the taxi. We

always

take a taxi when we're out," I said.

"Which taxi company did you employ, Ms Rizzo?"

"Oh, I don't know. We just hailed one on the street. Can't remember. I mean, we were

really

drunk. We do that, you know, get drunk. Ouch."

Anya gave me a hard pinch on the butt and I shot my hips forward flapping open my robe again.

"It was very dark, and raining," Anya said.

I felt her fingers on my butt ready to pinch again if I didn't stop babbling. "But I

do

know that we paid in cash," she said. "We never take our credit cards when we go out. Too easy to lose, and of course, we rarely buy our own drinks."

I held open Anya's robe and flapped it, wafting some air onto my sweating body. "

So hot," I explained with an embarrassed smile, slowly putting away my goodies again.

Maranto paused as if to file the image in his mind, and went on. "The incident happened at around two o'clock in the AM," he said.