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tuscl

A catch-all account

"Bullshit. It's *my* dance, he's just going to sit there and watch," she said as she grabbed my hand and dragged both Felicia and me to the back.

No sooner was the door shut, but Becky had this girl on the couch and was playing with her boobs, kissing her all over and sliding her panties off. I had seen Becky with other girls before, she'd invited one of her friends to play with us on a couple of occasions, and she's always preferred the dominant role with girls, but this was another level. There was an animal eagerness about her that wasn't there those other times. I guess not getting any pussy for a long period of time (like a year and a half) can have much the same affect on females of the appropriate preference as it does on guys.

If this doesn't sound ridiculous, she *attacked* Felicia's pussy, but in a way that was gentle and tentative. It was like she was holding herself back, but just barely. She was working her way down Felicia's stomach and stopping just before getting to her pussy. Then she'd nibble on the inside of her thighs. Then go back to her stomach, until finally relenting and sliding down to, very softly, feather her tongue on Felicia's lips. She did that kind of thing for about five minutes before getting to the real work, but it appeared to be just what Felicia was wanting, because it wasn't long after that when Felicia was bucking her hips up against Becky's mouth and gasping for breath, and then arching her back and letting out one of the most satisfied sighs I think I've ever heard.

As good as Becky says I am at that, it's obvious that I don't even come close to her level of mastery, and I will not lie, it made me feel a little inadequate. But damn if it didn't get me going, despite the previous night's exhaustion.

When Felicia had finished, Becky got up and came over to me and kissed me. Not a little peck on the lips, but a full deep french one, so I could taste Felicia, then went back to the couch and started just stroking Felicia's chest and legs while she recovered. Then it was Becky's turn.

Felicia wasn't as good as Becky, but Becky has never shown any reluctance to "guide" when someone is between her legs. She knows what she wants, and isn't afraid to tell you, or push your head, or whatever it takes to get you do do what she's looking for. Felicia tried the same teasing, playful tentativeness that Becky used on her, but my girl wasn't having any of it. Her hands were on Felicia's head and not letting her go anywhere but her pussy. I counted eight orgasms, each one a little stronger than the last, in the next 20 minutes, and while Felicia was definitely getting tired, I will give her credit, she didn't stop until Becky herself let out a long, satisfied groan at the last big one and pushed her head away.

After *Becky's* very brief period of recovery, they both started stroking each other again, just fingers this time, but each of them got off at least a couple more times. Then they kind of just laid there kissing and relaxing until the manager came knocking on the door to let us know the hour was almost up. As they got dressed, I had to think about ice cubes and cold, arctic winds in order to make myself presentable.

Let me tell you, lesbian porn is *nothing* compared to what happened in that club's back room that night. If I'd had a camera, I could make a mint off of that show.

We spent two or three more hours in the club with Felicia, who for *some* strange reason, sat with us for that entire time, except for stage sets, without asking for a drink or dance or anything, though I did buy her one she could use as an excuse. Even turned down a couple of other drink and dance offers. Odd, that.

We left about midnight, I guess, and went back to the hotel. It was another pleasant night, though not nearly so exhausting as the previous one. Slower, gentler and tender, but still just as much fun. And satisfying.

Becky drifted off to sleep, and as I lay there with my face in her hair, the scent of her in my nose, my arms around her, the feel of her skin under my fingers, the memory of the time we'd spend together, it happened. Before I could stop myself, it slipped out. Those thrice damned words, the words I swore I'd never say to her again, not because they weren't true, but because of the tears, and not of joy, that were streaming down her face the last time I'd spoken them. Barely whispered against the top of her head, they sounded like thunder in the silence of that room. I cursed to myself as she stirred, but she only settled herself back against me, not waking. I lay there, my heart pounding so hard that I thought the pressure against my chest would surely wake her, but her deep, rythmic breathing continued. It took a while, but I finally fell asleep as well.

The next morning it was *my* turn to wake *her* up the best way, and that led to more fun, but alas, all good things must come to an end. So we showered, I helped her pack, took her in-laws' car back to them, and I drove her to the airport.

While we were sitting in the airport waiting for her flight to board, I asked her what she was going to tell Frank about what happened. She said, "About you? Nothing. I told him before we left for my parents', before we got married, that my relationship with you wasn't his concern and wasn't something I needed his permission or approval for, and never would be, and if he couldn't live with that, then he should stay behind. He's been good about that so far; he hasn't asked me once about anything, and he didn't say anything when I told him I'd be visiting you, too."

"About last night at the club?" With a very wicked grin on her face, "I'm going to tell him all about it, and make him my bitch for the entire week. Maybe it'll convince *him* to take me out for pussy sometime."

We talked for a little while longer, about inconsequential things, about the kids, about my kids, about her school. She told me that she was going to try to make it back in the fall, though she'd probably be bringing Frank and the kids then so all the family still in Kentucky could meet the new baby, but would still try to make time for us, even though it would certainly be harder.

Shortly, the announcement for her flight came over the loudspeaker, and we hugged, said good-bye and she started away. She hesitated, turned around, came back, and kissed me, on the mouth, in public. The she whispered "I love you too," and walked down the hall towards the terminal before I could say a word, leaving me gaping at her retreating back.

I left, before I could do something even more stupid than I already had.