Baumgartner Generations: Janie

CHAPTER TWO

The secret to getting into a club was acting as if you couldn’t care less, no matter what. You couldn’t beg or plead or make up some story about knowing someone inside-the guys at the door had built-in bullshit radar. You just had to stand there and expect to get in.

“Sorry, we’re closed for a private party.” The bouncer at the door was a big guy-

they were always big guys who stood there with their arms crossed, making their pecs and biceps stand out even more. Of course, they weren’t really closed for a private party. That was just what they said when they didn’t want to let someone in. We’d heard it before.

“Who’s this, Sailor Moon and her lesbian lover?”

I looked over at Lil and almost laughed-he was right on. She looked just like a dark-haired Sailor Moon with the short navy pleated skirt and white blouse and red bows. I told her with my eyes, don’t say anything. She raised an eyebrow but she kept her mouth shut.

We both just stood there, not even looking at the bouncer. I took my phone out to glance at it. It wasn’t ringing and I didn’t have a text-I just wanted to look like I had something to do. Lil took a stick of gum out of her purse and put it into her mouth.

“Go on,” he said, waving us through. I saw him look at my legs first, though, and I was glad I was wearing heels that made me a good four inches taller. Lil snuck a triumphant squeeze to my hand as we walked past him.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said your skirt was invisible!” She had to yell to be heard, and this was the first chance we’d had to talk. She came from West

Chelsea, and TJ and Ronnie’s house was all the way out in Douglaston, a place that always had Ronnie saying, “There’s nothing wrong with living in Queens!” Of course, you couldn’t tell that to the Upper West Siders.

“Like it?” I yelled back, flipping the hem. I couldn’t flip it much-it was one of my shortest, cream-colored, a halter dress, if you could call so little material a dress, with a plunging neckline, completely backless. I wore a silver armband with it and my hair was up-it was too hot to dance with my hair down.

Lil gave me two thumbs up and then grabbed my hand. We checked our wraps before heading toward the dance floor. We’d dance until we got thirsty-and by that time, we could take advantage of some guy trying to pick one of us up and offering to buy us drinks. Even a gin and tonic was eighteen bucks!

The music was so loud I could barely think-it was fantastic. We waded to the center of the sea of writhing bodies, our hips already moving, driven by the beat. For me, dancing was almost as good as sex-hell, it was sex-hips grinding, bodies swaying, adrenaline pumping. It was like an all-night orgasm, a constant throb. I lost myself dancing, and in that, Lil and I were just alike.

Of course, it was all dependent on the music. The DJ was important, and when we got one that was into the rap and hip-hop thing, or someone who was just crazy bi-polar, picking one good song followed by a dud, we usually called it a night early, because we were all about the dancing. Unless one of us-usually Lil-found someone to go home with. That was a given.

I’d only done it twice, myself. Once it was some male model-and oh my god he was beautiful, but the sex was boring as hell. He loved being worshipped but didn’t want

to do any of the work. Another was a woman, Catherine. She said she had an

“arrangement” with her husband, an open marriage. Well, I knew all about that, didn’t I?

The sex that night had been incredible. I saw her here sometimes, still, and she made it pretty clear I could go home with her again anytime I wanted.

“Look!” Lil was pointing and I followed her finger toward the upper deck.

“Is that—?” I squinted, shading my eyes against the strobe, but I was sure. “Jim Carrey?”

Lil grinned, bobbing her head and bumping me with her hip. I didn’t get as star struck as I used to, when I first came to New York, but it still stunned me when I ran into one. I’d even seen Kate Hudson jogging in Central Park-of course, I only knew her because TMZ was following and snapping pictures. Otherwise, she just would have been another blond woman running in sweats and a baseball cap.

“I gotta pee!” I pointed to my bladder and then toward the bathrooms downstairs.

Lil nodded, following me. We didn’t like to get split up.

“Hey! Lil!” The voice came from behind us and Lil turned. Inwardly, I groaned, knowing the night was pretty much over. He was gorgeous, I’d give her that-but aside from the perfect hair, perfect teeth and perfect body, I didn’t understand what she saw in him.

“Alek!” Her whole face lit up. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried not to roll my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He nodded toward the bar. “Buy you a drink?”

She looked back at me and I waved her away. “Go on! I’ll meet you!”

“I’ll be right here!” she yelled, grabbing a stool. Alek was already ordering their drinks.

I nodded, weaving through the crowd and deciding to take a detour upstairs first.

Jim Carrey was one of my little brother, Henry’s, absolute favorites. It was worth a shot, right? He was still standing there near the railing, talking to someone I didn’t recognize-a short, balding guy in a suit.

I dug a receipt out of my purse and climbed the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t disappear before I got to the top.

“Mr. Carrey?” God, this was embarrassing. Was I really doing this? It’s for Henry, I reminded myself, imagining his shock and awe when I gave it to him and told him the story-embellished, of course.

He glanced at me and then did a double-take, his eyes moving first to the plunge in my neckline and then to the hem of my skirt.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, holding out the receipt and a pen. It was one of TJ’s-it had his name, followed by his title, ‘financial consultant,’ along with his business phone number. That was when I noticed my hands were actually shaking! “But could you sign this?”

He blinked at me for a moment, as if he was considering, and then he smiled brightly, that same smile you see on screen, too big and wide and a little bit fake.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“It’s for my brother,” I explained as he took the pen and paper, looking around for a hard surface to write on. “His name is Henry.”

“Turn around,” he told his friend, and the balding guy hesitated for a moment, looking at me-he was staring, really. Then he sighed and turned, leaning over the railing slightly.

“Agents.” Jim grinned at me and it was real this time. “They’ll do anything.”

“Thanks a lot!” the guy mumbled, glancing over his shoulder as Carrey used his back to put the receipt on. “Just because I’ll bend over a railing for you…”

“Ha! It’s usually the other way around, pal.” Carrey scribbled his name with a flourish and then looked at me. “Let me tell you something-agents smell money like sharks smell blood.” Carrey winked as he handed me both the receipt and the pen.

“Nice dress. What’s your name?”

“Jane.” I felt more flushed now than I had on the dance floor.

“Oh no, not you!” He was just as smooth and dramatic in person as he was on screen. “You give plain Janes a bad name, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” I tucked the autograph and pen away in my little purse. “And thank you again, for this.”

“My pleasure.” He grabbed my hand and actually bowed, leaning it to kiss it.

People around us were watching and he waggled his eyebrows at me. “And a very nice view, I might add.”

Now I was sure I was bright red.

“Jim.” The agent saved me, clearing his throat.

“Right. Back to business.” Carrey straightened and tipped me a dismissing wave.

“Nice meeting you, Jane.”

“You, too.” I didn’t even hear my name being called until I got to the stairs. If I hadn’t detoured on my way to the bathroom that night to get Jim Carrey’s autograph for my little brother, things would have gone very differently later, but Catherine found me again because I had, grabbing my arm and pulling me into a hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed. I returned her affection, still flushed from dancing and my encounter with a real celebrity. I hadn’t had the guts to actually go up to any of the stars I’d seen in New York since I’d been there, and probably wouldn’t have this time, if it weren’t for Henry. He’d seen Bruce Almighty fifteen times!

“You look gorgeous,” she gushed in my ear, still holding me close. Catherine was a leggy redhead with a temperament as fiery as her hair. Even in my heels I felt short and dumpy next to her. The night she’d taken me home from 1 Oak, I felt like I was going home with a goddess.

“So do you.” My returned compliment was genuine. She looked fantastic in a black mini-dress-her legs went on forever!

“You alone?” Her smile was suggestive as we parted, still standing close and practically blocking the stairway. People squeezed by us, both coming up and going down.

I shook my head. “I’m here with my friend Lil.”

She looked disappointed and, for a minute, I was, too. I wondered if she was remembering the night we spent in her posh Manhattan apartment. I’d been pretty drunk-Lil’s Alec had bought drinks for us all night long in hopes that she would go home with him and I had taken full advantage of his generosity. He’d taken advantage of Lil later, she said, so I guess it was a win-win for everyone that night. I couldn’t help remembering what it felt like to kiss Catherine, how full and sweet her lips were, and thinking about kissing her reminded me of the taste of her pussy, completely shaved below with a fine landing strip of red hair at the top to prove, she said, that she was a real redhead.

“Listen, I have to pee.” I smiled apologetically, remembering Lil waiting for me at the bar.

“I’ll go with you.”

And that’s how we ended up downstairs in the bathroom, which looked like the Starship Enterprise and made me feel like I was peeing in outer space. It was crowded, as usual, as we pushed our way to the sinks to wash our hands. Catherine touched up her make-up, blinking fast to dry her mascara. Her eyes were big and blue, gorgeous, probably contacts-they were too bright not to be. But she was stunning.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to be forced to take you home with me again.” She didn’t look away from the mirror as she said the words, but her smile was slow and mischievous.

“Don’t throw me in the briar patch,” I quipped, adjusting the top of my dress-it really was too low-cut for someone with my cup size. I felt like I was falling out of it constantly, but at least it had gotten us through the door.

“Don’t tempt me.” She did look at me then, her eyes darkening, her smile fading, and I gasped when she grabbed my shoulders, pressing me against the bathroom wall between two hand-dryers and kissing me. She tasted like sweet alcohol and cherries and I didn’t even care that women were moving around us to dry their hands, probably watching Catherine’s long, silky tanned thigh sliding between mine, her hand reaching under the front of my dress to caress the bare flesh of my breast and thumb my nipple.

“Cat,” I gasped when we parted, my thighs squeezing hers. I couldn’t help myself. My pussy was pounding, sodden. “What are you doing?”

“Tempting myself.” She stepped back, letting me go. I caught the eye of the woman next to me at the hand dryer. She was watching us, expressionless. Things like this happened in the 1 Oak bathroom a lot, though. I’d heard couples fucking in the stalls before, while a line of women waited to go.

“Let’s dance.” Catherine grabbed my hand, pulling me along. Saying ‘no’ to her was next to impossible.

I didn’t even think of Lil until we got back upstairs and I looked for her at the bar.

She’d promised to wait, but she wasn’t there.

“Come on!” Catherine led me and I followed, letting her rub up against me as we danced. She turned me around, pulling my behind into the saddle of her hips as if she were a guy getting ready to fuck me. I felt the press of her breasts against my bare back, the silky material of her dress brushing against me.

“I love your tattoo.” Her thumbs were there, at the small of my back. “I forgot how sexy it was.”

When her fingers began tracing the Celtic design, I shivered, telling myself I had to find Lil, that I wasn’t, under any circumstances, going to give in and go home with Catherine tonight. Both TJ and Ronnie had admonished me not to be too late, and I knew, just from the way they’d said it, they both wanted me in their bed. After Ronnie’s morning confession, the mood between them had gone from tense to loving as the day wore on, and by the time I was getting ready to go out, they were lazing together on the sofa, watching The Marriage Ref and laughing.

“I have to find my friend.” I said the words into Catherine’s ear as she turned me around. The music was like an aphrodisiac. My body moved all on its own, creating delicious friction between us.

“You’ll never find her in this crowd.” Catherine shook her head. “Text her!”

Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that? Probably because Catherine’s hands were petting my behind.

I unzipped my purse and found my phone, quickly typing in a text message to Lil.

Catherine didn’t let me alone, her long limbs twining with mine, moving me to the music. God, she was something else, so hungry. It was very hard to refuse her, which was probably why I never had. The other times I’d seen her here, I’d avoided her for just this reason. I admit, I felt guilty going home with her, knowing Ronnie and TJ were waiting for me. It didn’t make any sense, I knew. Technically, I was a single girl, and they were fine with me dating, encouraged me, in fact-but something in me still felt as if it were a betrayal. I didn’t understand it.

Well. I knew what that meant. I texted her back.

I gasped when Catherine began kissing the back of my neck, my bare shoulder, instantly hardening my nipples. I glanced around. Most people weren’t paying any attention to us, but a few were watching. It was quite a display of dirty dancing, the tall redhead and the little blond making out on the dance floor. And I couldn’t pretend we weren’t making out as she turned me around and kissed me fully on the mouth, her tongue softly touching mine, exploring. I moaned when she slipped a hand down to fondle my ass and clasp me tightly against her.

My phone, still in one of the hands wrapped around Cat’s neck, vibrated, and I broke the kiss, checking the text message over her shoulder.

“I want you.” Catherine’s didn’t have to say it. I knew-everyone on the dance floor knew. But she extended the invitation anyway. “Come home with me.”

Lil was going home with Alek. Ronnie and TJ were home and had each other. As much as I liked to think of myself as part of them, as part of the family, they were really a separate unit, a family of their own-and a growing one. Who did I have, really?

“Do you have a car?” Last time, we’d gone to her place in a limo, a luxury that both shocked and thrilled me.

Her smile widened. “Driver’s waiting outside.”

Over her shoulder, I saw Jim Carrey, still standing at the railing talking to his agent, but I could swear he was looking at us. Then, when he turned to look fully at me, his eyes met mine and I knew he’d been watching. He grinned, winked and gave me a thumbs up. I almost laughed out loud.

“Okay.” I acquiesced, and her eyes brightened as she took my hand, leading me through the throng of people.

I took the time to text Lil one-handed.

And I told myself, as I swept through the club on Catherine’s arm, that I was just taking my own advice.

We stopped for a courage-drink at the bar before we left-two shots of tequila each. The bar in the limo was stocked, too, and she kept pouring, champagne this time, petting me the whole way. But I was nowhere near as drunk as I’d been the last time we showed up at her penthouse apartment, and I’d forgotten how intimidating her wealth was. I hadn’t even seen the view from her balcony before.

That night, we’d made it first to the immaculate white leather sofa, and then to her four-poster bed, where I’d woken up early and tried to sneak out. When she woke, looking as hung over as I felt but still gorgeous, her hair hanging in red waves over the side of the bed, asking where I was going, I told her, “I’ll take the subway home,” and took off.

“This place is… breathtaking.” I looked out across the terrace to the lights of the city, flickering like fireflies in the night. The whole place was alive and moving below us.

“Nowhere near as breathtaking as you are.” Catherine pulled the tie behind my neck, moving her hands over my shoulders, sweeping the material away. It puddled in a creamy, silky heap at my feet and I stood there in my panties and heels, letting her massage my breasts, standing in front of the window for all of New York to see if they wanted to.

“So sexy.” She slid a hand down my belly, under the elastic edge of my cream-colored panties, her fingers parting my flesh. “Oh god, so wet…!”

I was. I knew she must be too, between the music and the dancing and the drinking and the anticipation. I wanted to turn around and kiss her, to show her how much I wanted her, how good it felt to be there, but her finger found my clit, rubbing in circles, and I was lost.

“Oh, yes…” I leaned back against her, my nipples hardening. I saw our reflection in the glass, my blond head arched back against her shoulder, her red one bent to brush kisses over my neck.

I should have felt awkward or ashamed of myself, going home with a woman I hardly knew, practically a stranger. Okay, so I’d done it once already… but I’d never called her, she’d never called me. It was just a one-night stand, a little bit of very drunk fun for both of us. I hadn’t planned to ever repeat it, with her or anyone else.

But here I was again.

“Let’s go to bed.” I didn’t want to see myself doing this, even just in reflection.

“Mmmm… not yet…” She grabbed my hips, swinging me around and pressing me against the door wall. I gasped as the cold glass met my back, but the heat of her breath warmed me when she sank to her knees, pulling my panties aside to probe my slit with her tongue.

“Cat…” I moaned in spite of myself when she sucked at my clit. “Come on. Not here.”

“Right here,” she insisted, pulling my panties down to my knees, her eyes meeting mine. “Right now.”

I was buzzed, but I wasn’t drunk. I definitely wasn’t too drunk to care that we were standing in front of a window, that anyone might see us. But the more her tongue

and fingers delved, the more exciting the thought became. What if someone was watching us? What if some voyeuristic guy across the way had a pair of binoculars and was standing there, cock in hand, watching Catherine lick my cunt?

“I wanted to do this to you right there in the bathroom.” Her voice was husky, her fingers sliding in deep. Oh god, what if she had? The thought made me burn. “Right there on the dance floor.”

Jesus. While the entire club watched?

“Oh god.” I stroked the thick mass of her hair as she tongued my clit. “That’s so good. I don’t think… oh! I don’t think I can stand up much longer…”

It was true-my knees were actually weak.

“Come here.” She directed me, sitting me on the edge of the coffee table and spreading my thighs. “Don’t move.”

I watched as she stood, slipping out of her dress, too, and then kneeling in front of me, both of us now in panties and heels, black and white. She slipped her heels off, but mine were the strappy kind and I didn’t want to take the time to struggle with the straps.

“I’m going to lick you until you come all over my face.” She parted labia with her fingers, admiring my cunt. “Then I’m going to take you to my room and fuck you with a strap-on until you can’t breathe or think or do anything but come and come and come for me…”

Oh my god. My whole body prickled with excitement, but she was right, I didn’t have time to think. The world could have been watching and I wouldn’t have cared. She worked at my pussy with her tongue, her fingers, moaning against my clit as she ate me, all the while rubbing her own cunt. I leaned back on the coffee table, pulling my knees back and spreading wide for her. I wanted her to devour me, to make me forget everything, and for a while, she did.

“So close,” I managed, grabbing her hair and driving my hips upward, my nipples hardening almost to the point of pain as I climaxed, using her tongue to get myself off.

She didn’t complain about my roughness. In fact, she took it in stride, burying her face between my thighs, planting her mouth over my mound and staying there, smearing my juices over her mouth and chin until I was begging her to stop.

“Ready for more?” She rained kisses over my still-quivering cunt.

I groaned, half-laughing as I sat, not sure if the dizziness was the effect of the alcohol or my orgasm. She gave me that same mischievous grin, her hair a red mass of silk over her shoulders, her breasts perfection, round and firm, her nipples pink and hard. I didn’t know if they were real-I suspected not, especially in Manhattan-but didn’t really care.

“I think we gave New York enough of a show.” I nodded toward the balcony, the blinds still open wide. “Let’s go have a little private time.”

She led me to the bedroom I assumed she shared with her husband. I didn’t ask where he was-she’d told me the last time we were here that they had an arrangement, that he knew she went out clubbing and picked up women and he was fine with it.

Maybe she only did it when he was out of town, I thought, unbuckling my heels and tossing them aside. My panties and dress, I realized, were still in the living room, along with my purse and phone.

Her bed was huge and high. I literally had to climb up onto it. There was a balcony in there, too, but she pulled the blinds before coming to join me in bed, shutting the world out.

“You could have had your pick of any woman there tonight. Why me?” I wondered out loud as she captured my nipple in her mouth.

“I like you,” she said simply, pressing my breasts together, trying to capture both my nipples at once. My breasts were large, but not quite that large, and she had to bridge the difference with the wet lash of her tongue. “You’re so young and sweet, beautiful…”

“So are you.” I looked back as she rolled me over, moving down to kiss and nibble my behind.

Catherine laughed, her fingernails grazing the globes of my cheeks, my ass clenching in response. “How old are you? Twenty-one?”

“Twenty-three.” I sounded defensive. I probably was.

“Talk to me when you’re thirty-three and you've been to a plastic surgeon twice, and you've had more Botox in your body than should be legal.”

“You’d be beautiful anyway.” I let her spread my thighs, her fingers searching for my clit, still so sensitive from my orgasm. “I’m sure your husband thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“I don’t know.” Her hand stopped moving between my legs, her lips still on my behind.

For some reason I thought of TJ and Ronnie then, the way he looked at her when she didn’t know he was watching, the way his eyes followed her around a room. Every woman should have that, I thought-one man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Catherine moved to stretch out beside me and I looked over at her in the lamp light. She looked sad and I wanted to hug her.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I apologized.

“No, it’s okay.” She shook her head. “He’s a good guy. I love him and I know he loves me…”

“But?”

She slowly traced the lines of my tattoo. “This was my idea, you know.”

“This?”

“Seeing other people.” She rubbed my lower back. “He didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”

Again, I was thinking of TJ and Ronnie. Whose idea had it been, I wondered? His or hers?

“I guess I just wanted…something more.”

Now I was curious. “Do you bring home men, too?”

“No.” She kissed my shoulder, her lips soft.

“Does he see other women?”

“Well…he could.” Her breasts pressed against my side as she moved closer. “If he wanted to.”

“But has he?”

“No. Not that I know of.”

I rolled to look at her, up on my elbow. “Do you think you’d be okay with it, if he did?”

“I…I think so.” Her gaze fell.

“And he’s okay with… this?” I reached over and touched my index finger to her nipple.

“I think so.” She bit her lip as I cupped her breast, feeling the weight of it in my hand. “He says he is.”

“You know what?” I leaned in to embrace her, my body warming hers.

“What?” she asked as I began to kiss the tops of her breasts, squeezing them both and thumbing her nipples until they grew hard.

“I think you need to not think for a while.”

Her belly was soft but flat, her skin like cream. I let my tongue dip into her navel, a preview.

“I think that’s a good idea…” she whispered, her hands in my hair, pressing my head down, down…

I followed her direction as she spread her pussy lips with her fingers, her French-manicured nails showing me the way. I could smell her musky scent, her mound radiating heat. I played in the novelty of her pubic hair, just a strip at the top of her cleft, pulling and tugging gently, taking my time. I was anticipating the taste of her, the feel of her flesh against my tongue, the same and yet so different. Ronnie and I were incredibly familiar with each other. She knew what I loved; I knew how to please her. Being with Catherine was an experiment, an exploration into entirely new territory. It was blackly exciting.

I explored her with my fingers, my tongue, letting my body remember her. I’d been really drunk last time and so had she, but tonight I was more aware and breathing her in. The mattress we were on could have been floating on a cloud, I was so lost in her.

“Mmmmm so wet.” I slid two fingers easily inside of her, pumping gently, feeling her begin to fuck me back.

“Your tongue,” she begged, arching toward my mouth. I indulged her, flicking the tip of it back and forth over her clit, teasing as I fingered her, wanting to keep her on the edge, panting. Her flesh gave in slowly as I thrust my fingers deeper, the wet sound filling the room. One thing I did remember was she liked to be fucked-and hard.

“Come on,” she urged, lifting her hips completely off the bed. “Gimme more that than, baby!”

I already had three fingers pumping but I slipped another in, twisting so all four would fit, stretching her wide. She drew her breath in sharply tugged at her own nipples, grinding her hips against my hand.

“Deeper!” she panted, thrashing, rolling her pelvis. Her pussy was sloppy-wet, bathing me down to my wrist with her juices. “Ohhhh fuck! Yes! Janie, do it! Put your whole fucking hand in me!”

She got just what she wanted as her body surged, her hips lunging-my entire hand disappeared into her hole, swallowing me up in sweltering heat. It was like plunging into the center of volcano. I had small hands, but still-I stared, agape, as she began to fuck me all the way to the wrist, my hand curling into a fist inside of her.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She moaned with every stroke, and I let her guide things, afraid I might hurt her, but she kept on, asking for more, more. “Give it to me! Yes! Fuck me deeper! Harder!”

“Oh my god.” I panted, working hard, fucking her as deep as I dared, her cunt like a furnace, watching in awe as her lips spread for every thrust, feeling the soft give of her pussy against my fist. “This is so hot.”

Her eyes were only partially open as she looked at me, her gaze full of lust. I knew she must be close. She grabbed my hair, pulling, and I gasped, following her direction as she shoved my face against her cunt.

“Make me come,” she insisted, impaling herself on my fist. “Oh yes, yes, make me come!”

I covered her mound with my mouth, sucking her clit and pumping my fist deep into her cunt. Her whole body tensed, her toes curling, and she screamed with her orgasm. I felt every contraction around the slick fist I had buried in her pussy. I could barely breathe as I watched her climax, her muscles constricting again and again, scalding my wrist and arm with her juices.

“Ohhh wait, wait,” she pleaded as I began to slide my hand slowly out. “Easy…

ohhh god…” I tried to go slow, feeling the subtle spasms of her lingering orgasm against my knuckles as I straightened my fingers, easing them out of her cunt. My whole hand and arm was shiny with her and I smiled when she grabbed my hand, pulling me closer and lifting it to her mouth to lick my fingers.

“I never did that before.” I was still breathless. My whole body was on fire for her.

I’d never seen anything so sexy in my life as her fucking me like that-my whole damned hand buried inside her!

“It’s really good.” She reached down to cup my mound. I was dripping. “Want me to do it to you?”

“No way.” My eyes widened but I moaned as she cradled my cunt and rocked her hand against me.

“You’d love it.” She used the heel of her hand, riding me hard. “I won’t hurt you.”

I shook my head, straddling the velvet expanse of her thigh. “Let me show you what I like.”

“All right.” Her eyes brightened as I inched my way up the long length of her silky thigh, my pussy closing in on hers. When my mound reached hers I began to rock, the softness of our lips rubbing together, back and forth.

“When I was young, I used to do this,” I admitted, arching when she rolled a little sideways, lifting her leg to give me a better angle.

“With girls?”

I flushed. “No. By myself. With anything I could find… pillows, stuffed animals…fence railings…”

She grabbed my hips, situating me closer. “That’s fucking hot.”

“Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Yes.” She reached down to spread her lips. Oh god, that was really good-our pussies rubbed together, spreading liquid honey. It made me ride her faster. “But I meant…it’s hot thinking about you doing this by yourself.”

I closed my eyes, rolling my hips in circles, focusing on my clit and swabbing it back and forth against hers. It was like they were kissing, the soft folds of our flesh fat and oily as we rocked together.

“Did you do it a lot?” Catherine squeezed my hips, her breath rapid.

I nodded, not opening my eyes-I was concentrating too hard. “I had one stuffed dog I liked best.” I bit my lip when one of her hands massaged my breast, flicking my taut nipple with her thumb. “Oh god! Yes! I can feel that right in my clit!”

“Good.” She tugged, twisting, and I burrowed in deep against her cunt. “Why did you like the stuffed dog best?”

“He had a hard nose.” I felt my face turn scarlet with embarrassment at my confession, opening my eyes to look at her. “And I used to rub against that part like this.” I let my clit linger over hers, worrying my hips around, fast, faster, holding onto her other thigh for leverage. Her skin was like silk. “My mom couldn’t figure out how he got so dirty.”

Catherine gave a low laugh. “Dirty girl.”

I was ashamed by my admission, but too turned-on to stop. The feel of my pussy searing over hers was euphoric, and I knew I could ride over the edge into paradise at any minute.

“Do you like being called a dirty girl?” She hefted both breasts now, delightfully torturing my nipples. The sensation roiled through my belly and went straight to my clit in delicious, lightning-fast pulses. “A naughty little slut?” My breath rushed out in a gust when Catherine slapped my tits, opening my eyes wide. “Such a bad girl.” Slap. Slap.

My nipples stung and my skin reddened as she continued to smack my breasts. I twisted and rolled, pushed and pulled, my breath rapid, my heart racing. “Rub yourself off, baby. That’s it!” She fucked me back, catching a rhythm sure to send me over. “Rub that hot little clit all over my cunt. Get yourself off, Janie! Do it!”

“Oh! Now! Now!” I spread wide, leaning in and splaying my pussy against hers as I came. She grabbed my tits and mashed them together in her hands, quivering underneath me, and I knew she was coming, too, wrangling me like a bucking calf as I gave her every last bit of my orgasm.

“Oh my god!” I collapsed, my limbs going limp, letting her fold me into her arms.

“Oh. My. God.”

She brushed the hair away from my heated face, kissing my sweaty forehead.

Our bodies were polished with sweat-we’d worked hard for that one. Exhaling, I hid my face against her breasts and she petted me-my hair, my back, my arms.

“Damn, I didn’t even get my strap-on,” she murmured against the top of my head.

“Well, we've got all night.”

She laughed, kissing me down onto the mattress as we fell into oblivion, losing ourselves in each other once again.