The Problem With Zoe

Zoe is spending a lot of time here. Like, she's basically living here, which makes her roommates happy as clams because they get more space, but which...

I'm not thinking of charging her rent or anything. She doesn't take up much space here, albeit that occasionally we all three have to get ready at the same time and the bathroom is quite small for two, let alone three.

And the sex is great. Having someone available basically 24/7 to play with is the dream, and between Sveta and Zoe I have 90% coverage. We have threesomes on the regular, yes, but there's also twosomes for when one or the other of us isn't available for whatever reason. Part of the reason I haven't been going crazy not getting any outside the house is because inside the house I get plenty. And lord knows I'm not complaining about that at all.

The problem is that Zoe doesn't know everything. She doesn't even know some things. Basically, Zoe knows that Sveta and I have an open marriage and that's about it.

Part of that is that she gets jealous sometimes. If I brought home one of my recent conquests, she'd be okay with it, but she gets jealous if it seems like I'm paying more attention to Sveta, my fucking wife, so yeah, there's definitely that.

The other part is that she doesn't know about the family stuff. Sveta thinks I should tell her. Sveta is entirely too comfortable with that idea. She points out that she didn't freak out and tell the cops, so why would Zoe? I point out that Sveta is amazing and extraordinary and that a lot of people wouldn't feel that way, plus Zoe is pretty much off men at this point so it's not like I could introduce the idea like I did with Sveta. Plus I'm just worried. Zoe is... flaky? Unreliable? Jealous?

I know it's not a good situation, believe me. The relationship is complicated.

So now my parents are feeling comfortable enough to visit and I want them to visit because I haven't been with my Daddy in far too long, and Sveta wants a turn too, and all I want to do is just tell Zoe to get lost for a day or so while we take care of business, but she'd want to know why. And she'd probably be jealous. But we can't have my parents over for fun if Zoe will be there. And she's starting to wonder why she can't meet my family, since she knows they're okay with my polyamorousness (if that's even the right word; I don't want to claim something I'm not).

Let no one say that running a lesbian commune was easy.

Sorry this isn't more sexy. I can provide some glimpses into the more sexy aspects of having two women at my beck and call if anyone's curious. Say the word.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Once again, for those of you who don't know better than to look at my fiction, a new Flash Fiction Friday is up on the sister-blog. I'm writing this having just finished it, because I ran out of time this week. Other than that, head over to Max's blog to see who else played. They probably did it better than I did this week.

The Wrong Singer

So the jazz band was in town again and they said they had a singer this time, so I naturally assumed it must be Gia. Remember Gia? I sure did. I was making plans to maybe see if she was open to a rekindling of the flame, as it were, even though I'd been terrible and hadn't contacted her since. She hadn't contacted me either, in fairness to me, and I figured maybe we'd just run into each other sometime.

I was in the booth waiting, and they were rehearsing, and they got to the song where they supposedly had a singer (of course I found out when to pay attention) and out comes this matronly woman to sing. Not Gia at all. My heart did a bellyflop into my stomach and I immediately had to stop myself from hating this poor woman for no other reason than that she wasn't who I wanted her to be.

And then I realized something. I had forgotten Gia's actual name. Which pretty much put paid to the idea of hooking up with her again, didn't it?

But then my brain must have been working behind my inhibitions' backs because I managed to wheedle the name cunningly out of the band leader in conversation. And my brain presented it to the rest of me, fait accompli. "We're calling her. Obviously you want to see her again if you were that disappointed, so I'm just going to get out your phone right now and..." And I had to stop myself from doing just that with promises that I would certainly call her just as soon as I wasn't standing in the middle of the theater where anyone could hear me.

So they finished up practicing and left and I went back to the booth and solitude and called Gia, making sure not to accidentally call her Gia. I was hoping she might be free that very evening, but while she was pleased to hear from me, it turned out that she wasn't. No harm, maybe some other time.

"How about tomorrow, my place?" she asked.

"Unless you'd rather come over to mine," I managed. Yes, tomorrow was some other time, and no, I hadn't expected some other time to be tomorrow.

"You're trying to sneak me into a threesome, aren't you?" she said. Smart cookie, is Gia. She's a joy to talk with though because she just seems like everything she's saying is totally matter of fact, no judgments at all.

"I might be," I admitted, because she made it easy to admit.

"I'll be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she said, and she managed to say it in a way which wasn't disappointing at all. "But I'd really love to see you. Maybe for a bit longer this time?"

"I'm at your beck and call," I said, because I say stupid things like that. She chuckled though.

So I had to go home and wait for the morrow, and the morrow included some work, so I wasn't able to make it to Gia's place until much later than I wanted, but earlier than I had initially thought because the jazz band finished up early and let me go.

She met me at the door wearing a robe which didn't hide all that much. "I figured I could be more presentable this time, since I knew it was coming," she said with a smile.

"And I wore clean underwear, so we're good to go." That got a laugh out of her. "No, I may have worn something a little more presentable this time too, since you only got to see me in black last time."

"I don't really care what you wear as long as it comes off quickly," she said, low and sensual, and the temperature rose a number of degrees. We started kissing before the door closed behind me, and my hands caressed her curves to discover that under her robe she was wearing nothing at all. She stepped back and undid the belt and spread the robe to expose all that lovely flesh, her nipples already erect from anticipation, her pubis crowned by a tidy patch of fuzz which I honestly can't remember from last time but may have been there. I didn't mention it, but I'm mentioning it now because it complimented her slit very nicely.

The robe slipped to the floor and she twirled and laughed as my eyes got as big as dinner plates. "You look like you're going to eat me alive," she said with a shy little smile.

"I might," I said. "But let's get to someplace more comfortable before."

Her bed was as tiny as I remembered it being, but it was okay. She eyed me up and down as I quickly pulled off clothes until I was as naked as she was, then she lay back and spread her legs and smiled. "I've been thinking about last time a lot recently," she said as I got between her legs. "I was gonna call you, but..."

"No worries," I said. "We both got busy."

And then I got busy fulfilling my threat and eating her alive. She tasted fresh this time, like she'd just showered, which might have been true. Her clit was still tender and succulent, her lips were still warm and wet, and basically she was just as tasty as last time, only this time I wasn't in a rush. I got her off quickly enough and when she didn't push me away I kept stroking her, gently but firmly, until the tension of her orgasm subsided and she let her legs spread wide again and was begging me to keep going.

It took a bit of time to get her off for the second time, but I had two fingers inside her eventually, and when she didn't say anything against it, I licked the middle finger of my other hand and slowly massaged her asshole with it. She sighed and let me work. I didn't press the matter, just running my finger over the rosebud for a while as I slowly increased the pressure in her cunt.

When she came again, it was almost panicked, like she didn't know how to handle it. I found myself comforting her through a number of hard spasms, and then she relaxed and purred, "I haven't had one like that in ages."

"You liked it?"

"Oh yeah. Baby, you could lick me until your tongue broke off and I'd like it."

I slid up her body, our tongues curled together, and she wound up lying on top of me while we kissed, our breasts squeezed together, her pubis rubbing against my hip. I'm taller than she is.

"You want me to eat you out a little?" she asked.

"If you want. But I brought a toy for us to try this time."

"Ooh, mystery toys. Pull it out, let's see what we've got."

So I had to find my purse and then pulled out the basic strapon I'd brought with me in anticipation.

"Since you're bi, I figured you might enjoy a cock in the proceedings," I said.

Gia laughed, that low musical laugh which almost made me throw everything aside and dive into her again. "Baby, you're way better than a dick. I haven't came like that from a dick since I was in junior high."

"Junior high?"

"Oh yeah, he was my sister's boyfriend, just massive down there, and he wanted a fuck so I let him talk me into it. It wasn't that he was that good, but something about him hit all the right places inside me, you know?"

"Did your sister find out?" This was the first I was hearing about a sister.

"Yeah. She was pissed at me for months. Still blames me for stealing him."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They wouldn't have lasted."

"Well, we don't have to bring the toy in if you don't want..."

"Are you kidding? I'm dying to try out all this lesbian stuff. Show me how to put it on." She really was eager. I showed her how to strap in (not that it's hard to do) and then she said, "How do you like it?"

"From behind, please," I said. She laughed and I blushed a little.

"I meant how does it look," she said, still laughing. "Girl, you're nasty." But again, not a drop of judgment. It was funny, so I started laughing too. "Well, what you waiting for?" she said finally. "If I'm gonna break my strapon cherry, I want to do it right. Get on your hands and knees and get ready for the worst fuck of your life."

We both laughed at that, and were still giggling as I assumed the position and she guided the dildo into my pussy. We fucked and giggled for a while, then she was really starting to get into it and fucking me hard like I really wanted to be fucked, and I came on her rubber cock. "Fuck, keep going," I gasped. She gripped my hips, neither of us laughing now, and drove the dildo deeper and deeper, and I came again, hard, my face in her pillow so my screams were muffled a little.

She pulled back and I came up for air. "I think you've got the hang of it," I said, then we both started giggling again, and wound each other up in our arms and kissed, the wet length of the dildo pressed between us.

Finally, after a long makeout session, I asked, "Do you want some?"

"Honestly baby, I don't know if I can get off again," she said, sounding a little sad.

"Don't be sorry," I said. We kept kissing, and I maneuvered myself so my thigh was pressing against her pussy through the strapon, and I started rocking her slowly, rubbing my skin against hers. Once she got into it, she broke away long enough for us to disentangle ourselves from straps, and then we went back to kissing and my thigh and hers were rubbing.

"Damn, I guess I have another in me after all," she sighed.

"You want to keep going like this?"

"Yeah. It's nice." So we kept kissing and I squeezed various squeezable parts of her, stroked what was strokable, and generally made her life interesting until she gasped, "Oh fuck," and melted on me. That's the only way I can describe it. All the tension left her face, her eyes closed, and I felt her go limp in my arms. "Oh my god baby," she sighed after a moment.

After that, it was getting very late, and we were both pretty worn out, so we mutually decided to call it a night. She did make a valiant effort to get me to spend the night, but I finally told her, slightly ashamed, that I wasn't sure I could sleep with her on her tiny bed. She laughed and we let it go.

We did promise to keep in touch, and she said something to the effect that maybe sometime she'd be up for visiting my place. So there's that. I really like hanging out with her, even without the sex. I don't think either of us is interested in anything more than sex from the other though. I hope not. I can't afford to start a lesbian commune. I really can't. I'm not trying. It just keeps happening. Fuck buddies. That's what we both need.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

 Fun picture this week, and my take is up over at the sister-blog. Head to Max's blog for additional takes.

Stuff happened this week and I'm getting around to writing it up so you can enjoy it too. Expect that at some point soon.

TMI Tuesday

From, as always, the TMI Tuesday blog. This week is a bit more fun.

1. Select a kink. You’re a first-time visitor to a dungeon, and you are ‘center stage’ because a sizeable crowd has gathered to watch you:
a. Writhing from bare-hand spanking
b. Restrained on an X-cross receiving a whipping
c. Dangling in air wrapped in an ornate web of rope
d. Naked on a floor mat with 3 people pleasuring you

Ok, so while I don't mind a little restraint play in my life, ornate webs of rope don't really do it for me. So C is out.  Similarly, while a little light spanking when things are really heated is not something which immediately turns me off, whips? No thank you. The type of spanking one gets in a dungeon? Nah, I'm good. So I'm going to be all exhibitionist and pick D, even though it's terribly vanilla of me. I don't have many traditional kinks, really. In fairness to the question, I think maybe I should be restrained or something. Maybe blindfolded.

2. If you selected #4 in the last question, tell us how you are pleasured?

I could be really boring here and say it would be three possessors of cocks taking turns on me, and I wouldn't say no to that, but maybe, in keeping with the kink theme, I'm tied up spread-eagle, blindfolded, and they're only using their tongues. There can be more than three of them, but I don't need to know their identities at all. I could get behind this scenario.

3. Bind, blind, tease. Write a 50-word story and include those 3 words.

I already do Flash Fiction Friday and this isn't really a question. Bah. Fine, I'll do it under protest.

She begins with the ropes, binding me despite my protests. "All in due time," she reassures me. Then the silk scarf over my eyes blinds me, robbing me of the sight of her pert buttocks walking away. "Now you'll learn patience," she teases. All I hear is her giggling exit.

There. 50 words on the dot.

4. Sex Doll play: The ‘doll’ is the human version of an inflatable sex doll. The ‘doll’ must lie completely still on a bed and let their partner have at it. The partner is free to control the doll’s body and movements, and do what they please. Which will you be–the doll or the doll-master? Why?

I'm not particularly into this scenario on either side but I think, if I had a male doll-master, I could maybe see being the doll. I like my partners to contribute, but if my male partner wanted to fuck me like a lifeless piece of meat, subby Lexi could come out and play a little bit. As long as I was allowed to cum. I don't like orgasm denial, particularly after having been forcibly denied them by medical conditions for so many years.

I should have more to say about this, but like I said, my kinks tend toward the nontraditional. I've never been to a sex dungeon and it's not on my bucket list or anything. There have been times in my life when I was a bit more into things like this, but as I age I find psychology much more kinky than physical stuff, if that's the right way to put it.

Swamped Again

Remember Erin and the terrible middle-school play and the shoulder massage that got a bit heated? Well, she came back later in the week for the actual performance. She sought me out right off the bat, which was a good sign, said hello, asked if I would mind giving her that massage now because she'd be too busy later. Did I mind? Of course not.

She was wearing a top which was much looser this time, and I wasn't sure exactly how to proceed, so I just massaged her shoulders and back and neck for a minute or so, until she leaned back and said, "No one's watching."

"Do you want me to..."

She blushed. "Um... do you mind? Your hands felt so good and I never... I mean..."

"Shush," I said, and slipped my hands down slowly from her shoulders over her collar bone. She sighed and closed her eyes and started nibbling her lower lip, which I find incredibly sexy. It really was all I could do not to suggest something other than a massage. My hands found her breasts and cupped them gently until she shifted herself toward me a little, which was all the hint I needed. "Do you want me to?"

"Mmm hmm," she said, eyes still closed, lip between teeth. Her legs spread a little too, which made me very aware of the crotch of her pants. I really wanted to slip a hand down there in the worst way. If the situation hadn't been what it was, I might have. As it was, I held her tits in my hands, only the fabric of her blouse between our skin, and then slowly massaged, rolling the nipples gently between my thumbs and forefingers until they were erect, then slowly caressing.

And then she was unconsciously pushing her blouse up over a flat, gorgeous belly and I had to remember where we were. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," I murmured.

"No one's looking."

"They could be any minute. I don't want to leave you like this but..."

"No, no, you're right," she said, and let the blouse fall back down. Sometimes I hate myself for being rational. She certainly wasn't. "Okay, I've got to go get things ready. Um..."

"Don't worry, I'll be right here." I don't know why I was reassuring her of that. We both knew it wasn't happening. I don't know why I even let it get as far as I did, except I'm a bad person.

So I sat in the booth and felt my temperature slowly go back to normal and the spot of wetness in my panties slowly cool. Have I mentioned I have a thing for flat-chested women who look a bit like Summer Glau? Hot for teacher, that's me.

The play was terrible but they're middle-schoolers so who cares? Their parents all applauded, and everyone applauded for Erin when she went out on stage, and I figured okay, I got to fondle some delightful small tits, my night is over. Plus I was kind of tired, I won't lie. If that had been all, I would have been just fine.

But she showed up to collect some stuff from the booth with one of the kids, and she whispered in my ear, "Hang around a minute after please." My temperature started to rise a little again.

Now, it's my firm rule that, if I'm ushering someone into the cult of Sappho, that I do all the work unless they want to try. It's not fair of me to get selfish and ruin someone for lesbianism from then on. And this rule means that I was feeling like maybe it would be best to arrange a meetup someplace more comfortable rather than having an assignation in the booth, no matter whether I was off the clock or not.

But when all the kids and parents had left and she hadn't shown up, I was all set to say, "Ah well, she couldn't make it, plenty of fish in the sea." I clocked out, closed up, and headed to my car, and there she was sitting on my hood. "I told them I forgot something," she said, "but then I couldn't get back in." Our front doors lock automatically after a certain hour, which I had forgotten.

"So do you want to go someplace?"

"I can't. I really have to go to the cast party. You could come, if you want?"

God help me, the idea of having to hang around with dozens of kids and parents I didn't know in the state I was in, tiredness-wise, made me want to run screaming. "I'd better not," I said, a little sadly.

"Well, what about after?"

"I should probably head home. I've got a long day tomorrow." This was true. It wasn't easy to say.

"Oh." She looked crushed, which made me feel like a giant asshole.

"Why, what did you have in mind after?" I don't know. I'm terrible.

She blushed. "I was hoping you might get to massage me without having to worry about the kids seeing, and..." She trailed off, blushing furiously.

"I'd like that," I said. "How long is this cast party going to last?"

"I'll bow out early," she said eagerly.

"What about your husband?"

"He's away again. Didn't even come to see the show." Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing, because she didn't sound so sanguine about him as she had the last time we'd discussed him. "Um... did you want to come back to my place?"

"If you're okay with that." I would have invited her back to my place in a heartbeat but it's a bit of a drive.

So, despite my protestations, I went to this cast party. It was at the local IHOP because that's the only thing that's open and kid-friendly at this time of night. I took one look and then decided fuck it, I was going to sit in the car, as creepy as that might seem. Wasn't in the mood for IHOP and definitely wasn't in the mood for kids.

She was sucked into the party and didn't manage to break away for longer than I really wanted, and I was starting to question my decision-making process as the temperature cooled again. But despite not being a good ambassador for philosophical lesbianism, I'm a ride-or-die ambassador for the physical side of it, and anyway I was already going to be a mess in the morning.

Finally she came out waving goodbye. A lot of the kids were coming out too. She had to say goodbye a million times. Ah, drama club. Then she finally went over to my car and said, "Follow me." She looked eager. I was worried that she too would have begun to question her decision-making process.

I followed her back to her house, nice little place in the burbs, white picket fence, the whole nine yards. She let me in through the garage door and started giving me a tour.

"Erin, no offense, but if you're not comfortable with this, I can just call it a night," I said when she seemed unable to make the first move.

"Um... do you mind if we do it in the guest bedroom," she asked quietly. "I've never... in my husband's bed, it would be..."

"That's totally fine," I said. I don't go out of my way to help people cheat on their sig-Os, but I've had plenty of cheaters and that's often one of the things they're most reticent about.

We headed for the guest bedroom. "So... how do you usually...?" she stammered.

"Can I take your top off?"

Her lip was firmly between her teeth but she nodded and blushed.

I enjoy undressing women. I mean, I enjoy undressing myself sometimes. Yes, I'm weird, what do you want? So anyway, Erin doesn't have an ounce of fat on her, which made me momentarily feel incredibly shitty about my own physique but I got over it once her breasts were exposed. I'm serious when I say she's flat-chested. Barely there, I think is the expression. She must not have to wear bras often, particularly if the fabric of her blouse is thick enough.

I admit I was drooling a little, and she was feeling very self-conscious about herself, tried to cover herself up. I wasn't having any of that. "God, you're beautiful," I had to say, which made her blush even harder. She was blushing all over. "Can I taste them?"

"What?"

So sheltered. "Can I suck on your nipples a little?" I said with a laugh.

"Is that...?"

"Yes, that's one of the many things I'd like to do to you," I said. Honestly, if she hadn't been there and half naked and ready to put out, I think I would have been a bit annoyed by the fact that she seemed to be completely obsessed with "what I normally do in these situations." But on the other hand, this was all new to her. Again I have to ask though, straight people, are you okay? Because her husband should have been down on his hands and knees begging to suckle her breasts a little.

Her nipples are light tan, sized perfectly for her figure (tiny) and they were already pretty hard but they tasted just fine, thank you. And she forgot about her nerves and let me suckle them. My hands were on her back pulling her to me, and then they roved down a little once she got into it and parked on the small of her back. I kissed and nibbled and licked all over her chest, and she was sighing and arching her back. Then I dipped my hand lower until I was cupping her ass, and she sighed and arched and was totally cool with that, so I decided that it was time for the pants to go too.

Not having an ounce of fat on you tends to mean that you don't have as many curves either, but she had some. Her hip bones stood out a little above the line of her very conservative panties. "I guess you didn't expect to be showing these off?" I said lightly as I helped her step out of her pants.

"I... I don't know what I expected," she said.

"It's okay honey, I don't mind. In fact, I don't think I need to look at them much, if you'll let me."

"You really want to?"

"Do you?"

She grinned nervously but nodded and slipped the waistband down.

I find pussies to be attractive, so take what I say about them with a grain of salt, but Erin had a very nice pussy. Hairy though. Not a deal breaker, but she clearly hadn't had anyone particularly interested in her this winter. "I usually shave for him, but..."

"It's been a while?" I asked.

And fuck, she burst into tears. I hate it when they cry. Which meant that I spent the next half hour comforting a naked woman and wishing I had just gone home. I'm not lying; I really wished that, because I was getting tired and she was spilling her guts about the difficulties of her marriage. But because she's religious and so forth, she'd never dream of leaving him or cheating on him, except.

Except I didn't count, because I'm a girl.

Yeah.

I'm not sure why some people think that lesbianism isn't cheating. But I guess it's the same way that technically you can still be a virgin if you've only ever done anal. I've never made an exhaustive study but I bet the religious types who believe one probably believe the other. Seems silly to me.

Anyway, I could have told her to shove it right there, I could have, but sunk costs and all that, plus it's not the first time I've run into this particular delusion. Plus in this case I think she was just making excuses for herself, and she'd totally cheat on him with another guy if the opportunity arose. That might just be me judging her too harshly. So I didn't tell her to shove it and instead reassured her that a little pubic hair wasn't going to ruin my day and that I would absolutely love to dive in, if she'd let me.

"I've never... you know... so I'm not sure I'll be any good," It was a little sweet how worried she seemed to be that I would find her terrible in bed.

"Have you ever rubbed yourself?" That's usually a safe place to start.

"Yeah." She blushed when she admitted that. Stupid religious upbringing.

"Well, when the time comes, just do to me what you like done to you, and you'll be fine." She was still covering herself with her hands. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Um... you'll think I'm weird but... I'm really..."

"Horny?" She nodded, eyes averted. "Honey, who wouldn't be, with a husband who's never home. It's totally not weird. I'm more than a little horny myself."

"You really are attracted to me?"

"God yes. You're cute as a button." She giggled. "That just makes it worse." She laughed at that. "Now, lie back and I'm going to make you feel really good, okay? No worries about me right now. Just let me relieve some of that tension."

She lay back on the bed, and I gently moved her hand away from her nethers so I could get a better look. Her pussy, even spread a little, even swollen a little with excitement, was still tiny. Breasts, hips, and pussy, the whole package was adorably small. She smelled slightly musky, but when I finally got her to get over her anxiety and let me lick her, she just tasted like a willing woman. Her legs spread pretty wide once I was tonguing her, and she didn't seem to have a problem with me licking her clit, so I sucked and licked that for a while, then slipped a finger into her and began stroking slowly upward.

"Oh shit," she moaned, like she couldn't help herself, then clapped her hand over her face like she couldn't believe she'd sworn.

"Just relax and let it happen," I said soothingly, then went back to slow strokes and sucks and licks until her hips were rising and falling in rhythm.

She gave a strangled moan and then wrapped her legs around my head and tried to suffocate me. Tension and relaxation, five or six pulses, and then her hand moved down to gently push me away from her. "Oh wow," she gasped finally. "That was..."

"Do you want another?"

"I just... gimme a minute..."

She was still all twitchy as I slid up over her flat belly, pausing to suckle at one of her nipples, then up and finally kissed her. She snuggled into my arms and put her leg around mine and let me do various oral things to her neck and collar bone. "And it's always like this, with women?"

"Well... I try to make them happy." No reason to go into too much detail.

"I can understand why she married you."

I laughed. "Oh no, I married her for her charms. She got the short end of the stick." I didn't just say that because I knew Sveta would hear about it later, I promise. I'm self-deprecating by nature.

"Now I wish I had let you take me home," she sighed. "But two of you might kill me."

"You'd die happy, I promise." And I slowly stroked her ass. Then slipped my hand between her legs and felt her warm wetness. She sighed and opened her legs a little to let me, and we kissed again. As my tongue slid between her lips, my finger was doing the same below, and even though she was tiny, she had room for finger number two a short time later.

I was still fully clothed at this point, but her hand started to rove a little, getting more adventurous, and began rubbing the inseam of my jeans in time with my strokes, so I whispered, "Why don't you unzip me a little and you get get a better feel?" in her ear. She nodded with a slight gasp, and then it was like she had magically inserted her hand into my pants through the fabric because I don't know how she got there so quickly. Her finger was at the apex of my slit, rubbing hard, which I took as a sign that her clit was not sensitive at all, so I got my thumb working on that, fingers up inside, and we kissed and finger-fucked for a while until I got close.

"Oh Erin baby, you're gonna make me cum," I gasped. "Rub right there, right there!" It wasn't an epic orgasm, basically just like I'd been rubbing one out myself, but someone else was doing it, and she seemed thrilled to have made me go off. She surprised when I didn't tell her to stop and instead used my free hand to shove my jeans and panties awkwardly down and then guided her fingers until she got me off again shortly thereafter. Then I kissed her, laid her back on the bed, and dove between her legs with no preamble, sucking, fingering, and even cupping her ass to pull it toward me until she practically screamed and I felt the spasms overtake her.

And then I hit a giant wall. Like, a wall made of walls. I was suddenly so tired I wasn't sure I'd be able to get out the door, let alone drive home. She was a little concerned, wanted me to spend the night, but I knew that would just lead to disappointment. So I summoned up my reserves, gave her a long, long kiss goodnight (which I hope she remembers the next time her husband is being a two-pump Johnnie) and managed to make it home in time to sleep a little before my next long day.

Sorry this took so long to post. I was busy, and then I was trying to recall it in detail enough to be interesting, and then I kept getting interrupted. I hope the length wasn't a turn-off for anyone. I have no idea whether I'll ever see her again, but we left on perfectly good terms and if there was guilt it hadn't set in yet, so I'm calling it a win. And while I would have loved to have had a proper time, I think she got the general idea. I don't think anyone had cared about Erin's pleasure for a long time, if ever, certainly not enough to give her two scoops of raisins.

Happy Easter, if you celebrate it!

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Once again, over on the sister-blog, we have a Flash Fiction Friday. Check out the other entrants over at Max's blog because while there's a bit of crossover, they went in mostly completely different directions from mine.

And now for other news, since I should be giving you something for stopping by, my further adventures with Erin are being written down, but I keep being pulled away by unexpected things. Trust me that they'll be worth the wait. Anyway, I think so. It's a long-ish post as it is and I haven't even gotten to the most exciting parts, so your patience will hopefully be rewarded.

TMI Tuesday - Love and Money

From the TMI Tuesday blog:

1. Could you fall in love with and set up home with someone who has $100,000 (usd) in debt?

The heart wants what it wants, so falling in love with someone with that level of debt would be easy. Setting up a home? I mean, we'd never be able to afford a home. That much debt basically sticks to you for life. We'd make it work. Fortunately Sveta and I are just poor, not terribly debt-ridden.

2. Is it important for you to be the breadwinner or make more money than your significant other?

Not at all. I'd be a kept woman in a heartbeat. As it stands, I am the primary breadwinner at the moment, but if Sveta wants to get some high-priced job and make my work completely unnecessary I'm all for it. I have a feeling that this is addressed to the men in the crowd a little, since men tend, in my limited experience, to have more problems with not being the primary breadwinner. That's not all men, understand, but I think men are more culturally conditioned to care. I might feel slightly guilty if I weren't contributing to the well-being of the family at all, but I'd still be cool with being a kept woman.

3. Are you happy with your chosen career path? What could be better?

I'm not unhappy with it except in as much as it means I'll be poor and never be able to retire. The money could be better. The hours are just fine, thanks.

4. Would you start a business with your significant other? Why or why not?

Probably not, mostly because I don't think it's healthy for the relationship. Sometimes you've got to have business-partner talks and I don't know that I could separate myself like that. It's definitely a "me" issue, not a "partner" issue.

Bonus: Can money buy you love?

Nah. Money can buy lots of things which make love easier, maybe, but I love who I love and money has very little if anything to do with it. I think money can certainly make life easier, and I would totally love to have some more money, but I'm not going to become a gold-digger or whatever.

Please ask questions. I'm tired of being not smutty.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

I barely managed to get one in (as the priest said to the schoolgirl) this week because of the aforementioned busy state of work, but my take on a very sexy photo is up over on the sister-blog. As always, head to Max's blog for other takes. Me, I'm writing this during some downtime at work, so if you want more you'll have to write it yourself.

Swamped

So this week has been super duper busy at work, which is why I've been quiet, if anyone was worried. I think I forgot to post my TMI on the TMI blog, for instance, but it's okay because my TMI this week was crap. I'm not really complaining about being busy. A gal has to eat and I've got hungry mouths to feed at home too.

But one of the things we had at work this week was a school play. This isn't a usual occurrence for us, honestly. Most schools around here have their own auditoriums. But this is a smaller private school, religious or something, and for reasons I don't need to get into they wanted to do their school play here. Fine. Whatever pays the bills.

It's not a high school. It's a middle school. Possibly with a grade school as well. So no hanky panky there, not that this would change much if it were a high school because I'm far too old to hanky any high school panky either. But most of these kids are barely in their teens at the oldest. And religious. So buttoned down is the order of the day.

However, and I'll spoil it for you now because it won't work as a story if I don't, the drama teacher is a woman a few years younger than I am who looks a bit like Summer Glau and I'm supremely hot for teacher. No tits at all. Flat as a plank. And I'm afraid I have a thing for flat chested women who look a bit like Summer Glau. What can I say? It's a specific fetish. Anyway, let's call this teacher Erin.

Erin and I hit it off because I know what it's like to teach middle schoolers and what it's like to teach drama, at least a little. They were rehearsing and she was sitting next to me in the booth and cringing occasionally when they would flub lines. Then they took a dinner break and Erin said, "Ok, I've had enough of them for right now, do you mind if I eat dinner up here and let the parents take care of them for a few minutes?" 

Well sure. Why would I complain? So she ate and we chatted about this and that, until she mentioned her husband (of course she's married) in some way or other and I said, "Oh yeah, my wife is like thar sometimes..." or some such innocent thing I might say to anyone chatting.

She got this look I couldn't quite figure out and asked, "Your wife?" And I thought to myself, Lexi you stupid slut, it's a religious school, being a lesbian is probably tantamount to demonic possession. She's probably going to compel you with the power of Christ any minute.

But I also felt a little, I don't know, annoyed. Like, we'd been having a fine time chatting and now all of a sudden she was going to get judgmental? Fuck her, right?

"Yes, my wife." And I showed her my ring. "I'm married to another woman. Is that a problem?"

I cannot stress enough the fact that being queer in this country right now is tough, and even I, a fairly easy-going and untroubled bisexual, am a bit in edge recently, which is the only excuse I can offer for being quite so full of porcupine quills. Because she got a look on her face which I had a much easier time reading as total embarrassment. "Oh gosh no! I didn't mean it like that at all! I just..."

And she was apologizing, which made me feel terrible and led to me apologizing, and good feelings were gradually restored when it came out that she just had never run into a woman married to another woman before and wasn't judging, just curious.

Now, for the sake of my audience, I will state that there's a time and a place for curiosity and it probably isn't the time or place in question, particularly these days, but I will also state that I have a weakness for flat-chested younger women who look a bit like Summer Glau, so I made allowances for her sheltered upbringing or whatever and moved on. Because hey, sometimes curiosity about the ways of Sappho leads to other things, and I'm always on the prowl, apparently. Not really. I just didn't feel like having to spend the rest of my evening with Erin feeling shitty, so I took one for the team and agreed to allow her curiosity to be an excuse.

She took that to mean that I would answer her questions about my marriage. I'm not saying she was prying. The questions were perfectly civil and weren't sexual in any way. She seemed fine with the concept of lesbians (I didn't bother to go into my bisexuality because it really has no bearing on my marriage as far as polite society is concerned and would probably have muddied the waters) just less so with the idea that there could be a wife and wife team which made marriage work. I should probably be more annoyed at that than I was.

I tried to represent for the lesbians out there and probably made a huge mess of it because it's only comparatively recently that I even identified as anything other than basically straight with a chaser of girl stuff. Sorry my sisters. Hopefully Erin will meet some more philosophically-minded and well-rounded lesbians in future. I basically told her about a sanitized version of my home life, that no, my wife wasn't a massive bulldyke nor was I, that the pants were worn at various times by both of us, and then we devolved into general talk about relationships and marriage.

Before I go any farther I just have to say, straight people, are you okay? Because she was describing her marriage and all I could think was, wow, glad that's not me. She got to talking about how her husband was never home and I sympathized, since between various things Sveta and I have been seeing less and less of each other recently. But Erin was kind of happy about it, maybe? She was glad of time to herself, and I get that, but it seemed like maybe she wasn't happy when her husband was around.

Anyway, dinner time was over too quickly and hi ho, hi ho, it's back to work we went. Work, in this case, being pretty minimal on my part. She was cringing a lot. I was sympathizing. I patted her on the shoulder. She leaned into my hand a little. I decided that a nice thing to do, since I wasn't doing much else to help the cause, would be to give her a shoulder massage. I don't want you to think this was premeditated or that she wasn't interested in getting massaged either. So I stood behind her and massaged her shoulders for a while.

"Gosh, I haven't had it this good in years," she said.

"What, your husband doesn't give you shoulder rubs?" 

"No, that's not really his style. He's much more wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am." She giggled a little when she said it. "I guess it's not like that with you and your wife."

"Honey, there are days when that's what we both want," I said, because it's true, in multiple ways.

"Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Don't start that again, you'll make me feel bad." Throughout I was kneading knots in her shoulders and she was sighing like, well, like I really wanted her to sigh.

"Do you mind if I ask about that stuff?"

"I don't mind."

"What's it like? Making love with a woman?"

"About the same as with a guy I guess." They should have sent a poet who wasn't currently getting wet because she was giving a flat-chested girl who looks a bit like Summer Glau a deep tissue shoulder massage.

"Come on. A guy has things a woman doesn't."

"There are toys for that." No need to go into the nitty gritty of the difference between a strapon and a cock. She giggled and blushed and my God, a weaker woman than myself would probably have buried her face in Erin's neck at that point but I was wearing a mask and believe in enthusiastic consent. "Ok, you really want to know? There's a lot more oral."

"You don't just use, you know, your fingers?"

Sweet summer child. "We do that too."

"Is your wife... good at it?"

"Come home with me sometime and she'll show you." I was kidding. Erin knew I was kidding. And yet...

"I wish someone would show me," she said, pretty much to herself.

"That's not something your husband does either, I take it?"

"No. I mean, I love when he makes love to me, but..." I just stayed silent. You have to set the hook before you can reel the fish in. "I kissed a girl once, on a dare."

Oh sweet summer child. "Oh yeah?" Knead. Knead.

And she starts telling me this story that wasn't that interesting about summer camp and how she kissed a friend of hers, with tongue, during truth or dare. And I'll be honest, at that point I figured, fine, she's getting to confess her extremely banal sin to me, high priestess of Lesbos, who will offer her absolution so she can return, free and clear, to the calm, stayed waters of heterosexuality. I was just enjoying the massage. No biggie, not everyone is cut out for the fast lane of homosexual dalliance.

And then I realized that, much to my chagrin, my hands had strayed lower than I thought from her shoulders and I was massaging what amounted to the upper slopes of her breasts, low hills though those might be. And yeah, she was letting me.

At this point, if it had been a story not for this blog, I would have pulled away and apologized profusely. There was a part of me which almost did that. If it had been a story from unrealistic porn, I would have said something witty about maybe kissing another girl and then we would have fucked hard in the booth while a terrible middle school play stretched endlessly out on stage. This is neither of those things.

What happened was that I let my hands move lower still until I was cupping her tiny breasts in my hands and massaging them, feeling her nipples on the palms of my hands, and she sighed and arched her back a little which pressed those nipples more firmly into my hands.

And then I think we both realized that we weren't paying any attention to what was going on on stage, plus anyone looking would see me fondling their teacher, so she withdrew a little and I did too until I was back on her shoulders. Then I slowly stopped massaging, waiting for her to say something.

"You give a good shoulder rub," she said. I've heard worse. "I expect I'll need another during the show, if you're up for it."

"I'd love to," I said, trying very hard not to mess things up by sounding as eager as I felt.

And we left it at that.

And the show is still to come. Not sure what to make of the situation. Does she want me to fondle her again? Does she think that I'm cheating as much as she is? Is she amenable to additional demonstrations of the thesbian arts? I just don't know. Rest assured, if anything worth reporting happens, I shall report it, albeit perhaps not immediately because, as I said at the beginning, swamped at work.

In more ways than one.

TMI Tuesday - April

 As always, from the TMI Tuesday blog.

1. The month of April is named for Greek goddess Aphrodite. She is associated with lust, love, pleasure, and passion. Which one of those states of being do you hope to experience this month? Which of them is most likely to happen?

Well, maybe it's named for Aphrodite, or maybe it's named for the Latin word for "after, second" because it was the second month of the old Latin calendar. But you don't really care about that.

I'd like to experience some passion this month, but I'm most likely to experience love. That's not a bad thing.

2. Diamond is the birthstone for the month of April.  Have you ever given or received a diamond? Under what circumstances?

Diamonds are overpriced carbon. Give more interesting gemstones please.

3. Did you play an April Fools joke this year? What was it?

April Fools jokes are passé. Well, not even that. They're usually either stupid, hurtful, or a combination of the two. Plus everyone expects them. If you're going to pull a prank on someone (and it shouldn't be me because I don't like pranks and will cheerfully escalate prank wars to nuclear, and you won't have any fun) do it on a day they won't expect. But really, think long and hard about the kind of prank you're planning to pull. And then think even longer and even harder. You probably shouldn't, is what I'm saying. There are a limited supply of perfect pranks in the world and chances are good yours isn't one of them.

4. April 22, 2022 is Earth Day. Around the world, all sorts of events will take place to celebrate and invest in our planet. What sort of thing might you do for the earth on Earth Day?

I have no idea. Firebomb a petroleum depot? Only kidding. That would just release toxins into the air.

Bonus: What odd or strange thing do you keep in your home?

Strange or odd to whom? I bet there are sex toys we own which would appear strange and odd to the average person but which are perfectly normal to us. I probably own books which are on the strange side. Okay, how about the Encyclopedia of Russian Prison Tattoos, in three volumes. I saw it in a free book bin once and had to have it. Can you blame me?

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

You know the drill by now, I hope. Head over to the fiction sister-blog to read mine. Head over to Max's to read others. I'm going to keep doing these cross-posts until someone stops me, I guess.