Slips Of The Tongue Ch. 03

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Gwen and Domenique took their first sips of coffee that morning, corrupting the lingering taste of each other’s pussies and the toothpaste they’d brushed with earlier. The lovers, deciding to avoid returning to the corner booth they sat in the first time they’d been in the diner together, took two stools at the far end of the counter. It was busy that Sunday morning, at least more so than that first time they’d eaten there together. Another waitress, a woman in her early fifties, brought them coffee and menus. Gwen and Domenique discreetly scanned the long room, but their original query was no where to be seen. Glancing at each other, they exchanged furtive looks of resignation, and resumed the perusal of their menus. Presently, her mind made up, Gwen raised her gaze from her menu and instantly blushed as she saw their original waitress. She’d just rounded the corner beyond the counter that led from the kitchen; stopping short, her own complexion turning a pinker shade of tan.

Seeing her bright blue eyes again made Gwen recall how she’d seen them that morning; wide and peeking through the narrow space between the ladies room stall and its door while she and Domenique rubbed a couple off together for the first time, starved for each other, for the friction and the release. Was she a voyeur in practice, Gwen wondered, or was it her first time too? The waitress was as pretty as she’d remembered: lean yet apple figured, with breasts large enough not to ignore but not so large that they elicited gawking. Her shining blonde hair was parted in the center, most of which was bound up in an aesthetically messy ponied bun at the back of her head, while two evenly symmetrical locks framed her oval face, the curled ends of which hugged the sides of her chin and lines of her jaw. The last thing Gwen noticed before finally looking away was the gleaming stud hanging from the outside of her left eye brow.

Noticing that Domenique hadn’t noticed, Gwen quietly cleared her throat and tapped the tip of her shoe against her ankle. Domenique glanced immediately to her right, caught sight of the obviously flustered waitress, smiled, and then gave her a small wave. The waitress cleared her own throat then, nodded in polite acknowledgement, and quickly stepped out from behind the counter.

“Oh my goodness,” whispered Domenique, “What a pretty thing she’s done with her hair.”

“Hmm, I thought you’d like that.”

They watched as the young woman walked briskly to the far end of the diner, and attend to a family that happened to be in the corner booth. Presently, the lovers looked away, related to each other what they’d order, closed their menus and sipped more of their coffees. Gwen glanced over her shoulder for another vantage, and saw that the waitress was talking to the older woman who had brought their coffee. White, she thought, remembering what Domenique had told her, wasn’t a color. It was a value, a treatment, a means of lightening color. Lightening, charged ions; electric tingling, white lightening, the sight of the moon shining along Domenique’s ass, white fingers and the back of a stranger’s hands creeping up her thigh, crossing the crease of her right cheek, trailing the humid clef of her sweet baby’s ass. White was friendship, truce, surrender, clean contact… Contact potential; roses are white. Our pussies are pink. We’ll open the chain and take in your link. Gwen smiled inwardly and a little nervously, still amusing herself with her little poems.

“So; ladies.” Said the young waitress, three or so years younger than either Domenique or Gwen, “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’m surprised you remember us.” Said Domenique as Gwen’s gaze switched between her lover and the waitress, “I bet like hundreds of people pass through here every day.”

On the drive over, Gwen had asked how they’d approach the waitress, if she happened to be on that day. Domenique stated that they’d play it by ear. Now, in the moment, Gwen realized that she was taking her usual passive role of quiet observer while Domenique worked to make things happen, doing the conversation steering for them both.

“I do,” answered the waitress, pulling out a pad and pen from her breast pocket and glancing quickly around them, “But there are always some folks that stand out; one way or another.”

“I’m flattered, I think. How about you Gwen? You flattered?”

Surprised, but no less speechless, Gwen shot rapid glances between Domenique and the waitress before nodding and humming a quiet affirmation.

“Funny,” said the waitress, locking eyes with Gwen, “I don’t remember you being this shy.”

Gwen’s eye brows seem to dance a crooked two step as she blushed. Domenique tried to hide her smile, but failed and got a solid punch in the arm for it.

“So what can we get for you this morning?” asked the waitress, making some effort to calm her smile.

“Well…” laughed Domenique as she rubbed her shoulder.

They gave their orders: Domenique would have the four by four; two scrambled eggs, two pancakes, two slices of bacon and two links of sausage, and Gwen would have muğla escort a short stack of blueberry pancakes with a side of grits.

“Please don’t embarrass me in front of her anymore.” Whispered Gwen after the waitress left.

“Relax Gwen.” Suggested Domenique between sips of her coffee, “I’ve got an idea, but it’ll require a little patience and forgiveness from you. Trust me; you won’t end up being the only one I embarrass.”

“Oh my God Nique, ” Gwen hissed, “What are you planning?”

“I said relax! Believe me: whatever happens in the next ten minutes or so will be worth a little loss of dignity. I’m betting that she’s as good as yours, ours.”

“Really? And what about your dignity?”

“Oh it’ll be intact. Come on; I’m shameless.”

That was true, thought Gwen as she breathed a great breath. Relax she says. Gwen sipped more of her coffee and then scanned the diner once more; trying to perhaps convey that she was truly relaxed. But, she wasn’t. Fear, hunger, apprehension and desire flapped their sharp wings against the walls and pit of her stomach. Then, there she was again, their waitress, re-filling their mugs.

“What have you guys been up to?” she said, her attention on the topping off of Domenique’s cup.

“Oh, a little this, a little that, ” answered Domenique, “Making film recordings of our high jinx for posterity.”

That was when Gwen went wide eyed, noticing that Domenique had withdrawn her camera from the inside of her denim jacket and turned it on. Oh Jesus no Nique! Oh my God! Seriously?

“Oh!” smiled the waitress as she stepped back to return the pot of coffee to its burner, “You guys into photography?”

“Yeah, at least we like to pretend anyway; by taking pictures.”

“Me too. ” the waitress laughed, meeting Domenique’s and then Gwen’s gaze, “I mean, I like looking at pictures.”

“Yeah?” said Domenique as she extended her Olympus, “Here. Check this out.”

“Nique,you shit!” Gwen hissed as she tried to reach for the camera she’d handed to the waitress.

The waitress took the camera, glancing at Gwen and then at Domenique. Then she looked at the shot that Domenique had selected for her, and had blushed again. Gwen lifted herself up from her seat as the waitress assessed whether there were any other direct on lookers, and turned to see, in the view finder frame, the shot Domenique had taken of her laying on her bed, her ass in full view, painted in stripes of golden sunlight.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” she answered, clearing her throat again, “I think it’s awesome .”

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

The waitress glanced nervously at Gwen and nodded.

“She is.”

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. Would you mind giving the camera back? Domenique? Please, would you take it back?”

“Okay, okay, hand it over Uh…”

“Tina.” Said the waitress, looking each of them in the eye as she said it.

“Please Tina, before my little friend gets anymore upset.”

“Hold on. ” said Tina, taking it upon herself to arrow through a few other shots, “These are really great. Oh my goodness; that’s… Very interesting.”

Then, before Tina, smiling and engrossed, was even aware of it, Domenique had deftly snatched her camera back and robbed the waitress of her order pad and pen. Both she and Gwen stared wide eyed as Domenique pocketed her camera, casually tore a sheet from the pad, turned it over and proceeded to write Gwen’s name and cell number.

“You ever feel like joining our photo club,” said Domenique as she tucked the pad, pen and inscribed note into Tina’s breast pocket, “Just give us a call.”

Tina, flushed for the third time, quickly looked around the room at the other patrons seated at the counter, and then reaffixed her gaze on Domenique. Then she turned to assess Gwen, and her expression softened.

“Yeah,” said Tina, a sudden smirk creeping around her lips, “Maybe I’ll just do that. Your orders will be up in a minute.”

Tina stepped out from behind the counter and went to check on her other customers. Domenique, seeming satisfied and as self assured as usual, drank more of her coffee. Gwen saw her smile in her periphery, huffed, and then took the opportunity to punch Domenique a second time.

“How about my pussy?” said a half naked Tina from her end of the Face Time call, “Can I show you that next?”

It was a matter of three days before Tina first rang Gwen. Among the usual points of conversation, Tina probed into Gwen and Domenique’s inclination toward exhibition. Gwen stated that they didn’t exactly have one, and Tina confessed that she had touched herself while indulging in concupiscent reflection over the event on a number of occasions, and that they should try it again sometime. Through the next month of phone calls, friendly lunch dates, texts, e-mails and Face Time chats, some one to one, others two to one, a friendly cohesion was established. Tina was initially put off by the prospect of submitting herself for testing. But, knowing she couldn’t poly pal around with them without rhodope-mugla.org it, she made it happen. Now, their perspectives clarified, the sex partner plot point highs and lows of their pasts discussed or otherwise legible on their FaceBooks, the ice was broken and melting fast. All that was left was for Tina’s STD tests to come in negative, so that their Face Time voyeurist exhibitions could go live; skin to skin to skin.

“I don’t know.” Answered Gwen from where she sat cross legged on her living room rug; dressed in just a loose pair of green sweat pants and a pink tank top, “I’m not sure it would be fair, since Nique’s not here.”

Scissors in hand, having apologized to Tina if she seemed a bit distracted, Gwen’s gaze bounced from the half dressed woman on her iPad’s screen and to the coupon she was preparing to clip. She’d shown Tina all of the Sunday news paper retail inserts that flanked her, and Tina chided her for being Domenique’s practical penny pinching little home body.

“Although, ” she continued, “I can’t stop you from doing what you want, there , in the otherwise private privacy of your own home. But I feel that I should inform you that I can kind of already see it through those tight bike shorts you’ve got on.”

“Really?” said Tina as she looked down at herself, between her huge yet impressively firm and buoyant tits, “Oh yeah, I guess you’re right.

Between clippings, Gwen had watched her playmate slowly roll her nipples between her fore fingers and thumbs and flick their two jeweled loop piercings. The eye brow ring had been exotic enough for Gwen, but the sight of the nipple rings, the thought of the pain and the pleasure, had set her clit atwitch on more than a few occasions. Initially, through the process of getting to know each other, the three women had developed a light hearted rhythm of sexual banter, which had only just recently evolved into a higher level of salaciousness. Domenique had allowed Tina to see some really elicit pictures at the diner that morning, but no more since. Now came the tease, as Domenique, as she’d stroll around naked; crossing the Face Time view just long enough or close enough for Tina to see a little hip or leg. It was Tina that started wearing less and less until finally exposing her wonderful tits first to Domenique four Face Time sessions ago.

Now, session number five having only just started, Gwen was seeing her beautiful tits for the third time; and the longer she looked, the hotter she became. Tina, her Straight shoulder length hair unbound, had a knack for positioning herself in such a way that her entire body fit within the Face Time view field, cropped like one of those amateur Polaroids in the back of a Hustler. She’d gotten Gwen quite slick during that afternoon’s conversation; gazing into her eyes as she fondled and sucked the nipple of one enormous breast and then the other, spreading her legs far enough apart so that Gwen could clearly tell her outer from her inner labia and discovered that her clit too was pierced. Gwen began to feel the coolness of airy space in the crotch of her sweat pants and the moistened parting of her pussy’s swelling lips as she looked upon the sight of the obvious protrusion, maybe a little barbell sort of thing, that cast a pretty little smile of a shadow and sent a humming tingle up her spine and down through to her toes.

“Well,” Tina continued, “Are you okay then with me, you know, taking it upon myself to show you my pussy or…”

“Or?” Gwen repeated, tucking clipped coupons into a # 10 envelope.

“Or are you afraid to get dirty with me while Domenique’s not around?”

“I can get dirty with you whether Nique is here or not.”

“I bet she’s there, somewhere out of my line of sight.” Probed Tina, smiling slyly as she gently massaged her big tits.

Gwen carefully picked up her iPad Air and its case, and then showed Tina a slow pan of her apartment. Then, setting it back down before her, she said:

“You want to show me your pussy? Fine then Tina. Let’s see it.”

Gwen set her scissors down, giving Tina her full attention. Tina’s smile suddenly disappeared. Slowly, she caressed her way down the length of her belly to the waist band of her shorts. Gwen looked at the creamy tan skin between Tina’s pink painted nails and the bright red horizon of red spandex. She knew that Tina had also pierced her belly button, but it stared back at her now, a naked serpentine coiled little outy of a sun. Down went Tina’s fingers as Gwen’s gaze shifted from her waistband, to her smoking blue eyes and back down again. In the next instant, Tina’s hands were concealed behind the red spandex; pushing the material out so that she could spread her lips and rub her clit without revealing her pussy. Oh you’re funny, thought Gwen, a sly smile now on her face. You don’t want to risk upsetting Domenique.

“Tell me what you’re gonna’ do to me Gwen.” Asked Tina as her lovely breasts jiggled to the rhythm of her jilling finger’s gyrations.

“Well…” Gwen sang, pushing the left strap of her tank top to reveal most of one breast, “I’m going to sit on your pretty face and eat that pussy your playing with. I’ll also be busy holding your legs apart so that Domenique can get a good field of access in order to stick her tongue into your tight little ass hole.”

That is of course, thought Gwen, if your tests come back negative.

“Then, after I’ve come all over your face, and you’ve come in my mouth, and after your juices have dripped down onto Domenique’s ass reaming tongue, I’m going to strap on my big purple cock and fuck that pussy until you beg me to fuck you in your ass. And then; I’m going to fuck your ass until you cry and we both come.”

“Oh my God!” sighed Tina, her eyes closed, her pelvis twitching, “Oh, ooooooh yeah, mmmmmmmmm, I want you Gwen!”

“I want you Tina.” Smiled Gwen as she watched Tina bring herself to orgasm, her breasts bouncing every which way.

“I want you Domenique! ” Tina whimpered, as she rode the peak of her orgasm, “Oh yeah. Oh yeah! Oh…” Mmmmmmm, fuck, yes! Oh my God, mmmm, mmmm.”

Minutes later, Gwen and Tina bid each other pleasant good nights. After closing the call, Gwen locked her iPad’s screen, flipped its case’s cover closed, set the device aside, and then picked up another circular.

“She puts on a good show?”

“She does.” Answered Gwen, slipping her fingers back into her scissor’s grips.

Domenique was seated in the kitchen, at the far end of the table, out of Gwen’s sight. It was where she normally threw her mail. It was Saturdays mail. She had a date with Domenique, so only looked at it passingly. There it remained into the next morning, for Domenique to sift through and discover their copy of Tina’s STD test results. She’d actually convinced her general to have one sent to Gwen’s address. Roses are three, you, she and me. I’ll watch you fuck her and then she’ll eat me.

“How’d you like that control?” asked Domenique, still from her seat in the kitchen.

“I liked it.” She answered, cutting out a coupon for K Y jelly in a perfect rectangle, “It was nice. Do you think she really knew you were here?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever. She’s a trip though.”

“Yep. Did you open up her results?”



“She’s clean.”

“Okay.” Gwen sighed as she gathered up her coupons and skeletal inserts and circulars, feeling somehow relieved and yet anxious at the same time, “I have to say, she really made me horny just then.”

“Oh, well, can I show you my pussy?”

“Yes please.” Replied Gwen as she got up and made her way toward the kitchen.

They hooked up with Tina the following Thursday night at the Polo club; an LGBTQ friendly place on Maple Avenue. Domenique hinted that she wanted to see their date wearing her hair in the manner she’d worn the morning they’d approached her. Tina had obliged, though the back was a little more pony and a little less messy. Both Gwen and Domenique were visibly struck by how beautiful Tina was; her face glowing yet hardly made up, her body costumed in an angular sort of coral hued single strap cocktail dress that seemed to simultaneously pronounce yet minimize the fact of her hefty breasts, accentuate her hips and feature her sexy legs. Gwen and Domenique were looking sexy in their own right, though dressed more casually: Gwen in an olive blouse, khaki slacks and brown flats, and Domenique wearing a curve hugging wrap top, tight black jeans and low black heels.

They found a table, the only table left, near a bevy of drag queens and their court. The trio ordered drinks and casually sipped as they tried to talk in spite of the din of music and other shouted conversations. From the club’s speakers blared the end of one song’s fusion into the beginning of another; something top 40, deep bass pulsing, melodious yet sharp and nuanced with mechanic sounding buzzes, clicks, all and chirps under a young woman’s heart felt laments. Whatever it was, it had inspired Tina to find Gwen’s hand and pull her toward the dance floor.

There they remained together for two songs; their bodies and hair bouncing in rhythmic tandem, adrift in a rough sea of circling species and schools of glittered spandex, bling, dazzle, solid black and comfortable queer. Between musical lulls, Gwen looked for Domenique. Her first pass found her alone, waiting, sipping her drink. On the next pass, she was being chatted up by someone who seemed familiar to Gwen; a tall woman with red hair, maybe someone from the shoe store Domenique managed. In stead of looking a third time, she found Tina’s hand and began to tug it back toward the direction of their table. Tina smiled, wagged her head, and then pointed over Gwen’s shoulder. She turned and saw that Domenique had joined them. Gwen searched her eyes, drew her lover in close, and then kissed her wetly on the mouth.

The trio stayed in the club for a while longer, the music to their liking and the night being young. So Domenique, Gwen and Tina danced, bodies in rhythmic tune; warming, touching, sweating and sneaking gentle three-way kisses, until their bodies were tingling reminders of their agenda. They headed to their cars, met up at the closest 24 hour Super Wal-Mart, goofed around as they shopped for the freshest midnight snacks they could find, and then headed to Gwen’s apartment.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32