DOMESTIC FRICTION
Introduction:
This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.
Low grey storm clouds were scudding across the sky above the slate roofs of the ‘New Town’ district of Edinburgh. They matched Veronica’s temper, as she paced the living-room floor of the two-bedroom apartment, in a foul mood which she was working up into an even fouler one. The flat was very well situated, occupying the top floor of a converted 1820s town house in an elegant street near Charlotte Square. Veronica had been renting it for just over two years, since graduating from Edinburgh University and getting a job with a company which had its head office in the city. She was now nearly twenty-four years old, and had begun to feel that she was stuck in a rut, that her life was passing by without actually going anywhere. Even the view across the rooftops to the ancient castle on its rocky crag, a sight which usually she enjoyed, was having no ameliorative effect today.
Veronica had originally rented the flat with one of her closest university friends, and had continued a kind of student lifestyle. Even though they were both working in quite demanding jobs, they still went out a lot with their former university friends, many of whom also remained in the city. However, her friend had been offered a promotion too good to refuse but which entailed a transfer to Glasgow, and so had moved out. Veronica had passed around the word that she was in need of a new (female) flat-mate amongst her social circle and work colleagues (a better and safer method than advertising and taking in a complete stranger). There were two or three enquiries, and, after considering these, she had offered the empty bedroom to Kyla, who was the friend of a woman at work. Veronica did not know Kyla well, having only met her in fleeting encounters at a few parties, but she seemed to be cheerful and pleasant.
They had now been sharing for a couple of months, and Veronica was coming to regret her decision. At first, they had got on really well, taking turns on the weekdays to cook an evening meal and sitting together in the small kitchen for several hours, chatting and laughing. However, during the last three weeks the atmosphere had slowly changed, tension had been mounting, and they were getting on each others’ nerves over small and silly things. Veronica was becoming both cross and depressed about it, wondering what had gone sour after such a promising beginning, and alternating between blaming herself for being dull and boring, little Miss Stay-at-home, and Kyla for being pushy, condescending and – yes, let’s say it, slutty.
One of the first points of irritation for Veronica was Kyla’s habit of wandering about the flat with very little on – often just bikini panties or a thong, combined with a bra, a skimpy halter-neck or a cut-off T-shirt, in her ankle-socks or barefoot. She would also wander back and forth between her own room and the bathroom (which she occupied for annoyingly long periods of time, and then had the cheek to suggest that Veronica was slow!) in the nude, or with a towel slung loosely around her hips and bare breasts. In her more honest moments, Veronica was prepared to admit to herself that some of her resentment was due to Kyla’s better figure, and a probably unjust feeling that she liked to show it off.
Kyla had the much curvier shape, with quite large breasts (swaying in a naggingly eye-catching way as she walked around half-nude or – worse – in a push-up bra, as if her ripe mounds needed any further prominence!) above a surprisingly narrow waist, and then the flare of her hips and an ass that jutted as if to balance the fullness of her chest. Kyla was a brunette, with very curly hair which she kept in a neatly-shaped short style, and this framed an attractively-proportioned face with laughing brown eyes and slightly-pouting full lips. Her height, which Veronica guessed was about five feet nine inches, was accentuated outside the flat by her penchant for high heels on her shoes and boots – and Veronica reluctantly had to admit that the bitch did look good in the combination of boots, a short skirt and a tight top. No, actually, Veronica corrected her own thoughts, she looked slutty – an easy lay; Veronica vexedly imagined that Kyla was probably spreading her legs several times every night for men who casually chatted her up in the bars or clubs that she frequented on Saturday nights – Veronica didn’t know exactly where, because Kyla often disappeared late on Saturday afternoon and didn’t return until Sunday evening, and never once invited Veronica to accompany her. Now that was downright rude and unfriendly, fumed Veronica, whilst simultaneously determining that of course she would not have gone to such low and sleazy places anyway! Of course, Kyla’s long absences were directly due to Veronica having made it clear at the outset that there must be no bringing of lovers back to the flat; she had recently reaffirmed that, saying rather crudely that she had no desire to wake up and find herself in a bordello.
It was likely that an unconscious prompt for that catty remark (as she rather guiltily knew that it had been) was something which Veronica had noticed with surprise a week or so after Kyla first moved in – that her new flat-mate kept her pussy shaved. It was one of the first times that Veronica had seen Kyla naked, when the well-endowed brunette had emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair, and no other covering at all. Veronica had been shocked but intrigued; she knew that she was rather obviously staring at Kyla’s cunt, but somehow couldn’t stop herself. Kyla had stopped in her tracks, as Veronica was partly blocking the way. With an effort, Veronica had dragged her eyes upwards, to meet a curiously bemused expression on her flat-mate’s face. At once, Veronica had blushed and turned swiftly aside, discomfited and somehow unsettled. From the corner of her eye, she had seen a cross-looking Kyla push hurriedly past her and dart into her own room, firmly closing the door.
Veronica was by no means unattractive herself, but she knew that she was just nicely average in all departments. Her hair was dark blonde or light brunette depending on how you wanted to describe it, but neither really the one thing or the other. It was the same with her body: average height (five feet five inches), nice breasts but nothing amazing (she took a 32B bra size), reasonably slim body, an ass that looked good in a tight pair of jeans (but not so much that guys constantly turned for a second take after she walked past), and quite trim and shapely legs. Her hair was straight and medium length, coming down level to the second button of her shirt, in a plain and standard style of cut. For work, and for reading or watching TV in the flat, she wore glasses, and felt that they made her look rather prim and academic.
Veronica knew that she could look quite hot if she took time and trouble over it – but then, any youthful woman who was not overweight or had bad skin could do so: all it took was a visit to an expensive hair stylist, careful application of not too much make-up, a tight and skimpy low-fronted outfit, good boots, a hip-swaying walk and a bold look in the eye. She had used to get herself up like that quite often, but for the last couple of years she had bothered less and less – work took up so much time and energy, she was often just tired on the weekend and wanting a quiet rest. She had no current boyfriends, in fact she had never had a great deal of activity on that front: one boy at school (who had taken her virginity, which neither of them had actually enjoyed very much), two separate spells at college (but most of the time without one), and one rather desultory affair with a work colleague which had petered out by mutual consent about six months ago. So part of Veronica’s frustration was due to her own unsatisfactory love-life, and the desert she thought that it was in comparison to her lurid imagining of Kyla’s wild and carefree couplings. However, Veronica just couldn’t summon up the enthusiasm to doll herself up and hawk her pussy around the singles bars, whether for a one-night stand or something longer lasting – somehow, it all seemed tawdry and unsatisfactory. Even so, her solitariness was getting her down, and she felt that Kyla was rubbing her nose it, flaunting herself and her physical superiority.
There had been an embarrassing incident just a few days previously, when Veronica had been in the bathroom and, out of curiosity, had taken down from the drying rack one of Kyla’s black under-wired bras for a closer look – as she thought, it was three sizes bigger than her own, a 32 double-D. She had held it against her chest for comparison, and of course just at that moment Kyla had swanned into the bathroom looking for it, wearing only the matching pair of skimpy lace-decorated string panties. Veronica had been mortified to be caught in this way, and had stammered something about thinking that it might be one of hers – and she had felt that the slight smile which Kyla had given her as she removed the garment from Veronica’s frozen fingers had signalled as clearly as if she had spoken it: ‘in your dreams’.
Following this, there had been a series of niggles on both their parts, made worse when – partly from her shame about the bra incident – Veronica had passed some catty comments about Kyla walking around the place as if auditioning to be a stripper. The busty girl had gone white, then crimson, and had stalked angrily from the living room into her bedroom, loudly slamming the door behind her. In her turn, Kyla considered Veronica to be controlling, bossy, frustrated, and generally coming on as an uptight snotty bitch. Just because she had the flat first doesn’t make her the Queen, fumed Kyla; after all, they each paid half of the rent and bills.
The breaking point came on the following Saturday. In the afternoon, whilst Veronica was out shopping for groceries, without asking any permission Kyla borrowed one of her most prized possessions – a pair of beautiful shiny and sexy red boots; the one place where both women were the same size was their feet. It was not as if Veronica had worn them in months, it was the principle that made her furious as she looked at the brief note that Kyla had scrawled and left on the kitchen table.
‘If that cunt makes one mark on them, just one mark!!’ Veronica fumed to herself, dwelling on the cheek of it and avidly stoking the flames of her resentment. What made matters worse was that Veronica had thought that a quite nice young man from another firm, who she had met in the course of the week’s work, might perhaps have been going to ask her out – but nothing had come of it. So here she was again on a Saturday night, alone with the television (and, as Bruce Springsteen had so rightly sung, “fifty-two channels with nothing on”). The most pleasure that she could look forward to on this miserable evening, when she finally went to bed, would be a furtive fingering of her own clit – more anti-climax than climax.
Veronica felt forlorn in the empty flat, the buzz of noise from the street below reminding her that most people were out and about on this Saturday evening, having fun – including Ms Big Tits, and in her best red boots! She consoled herself with a long soak in the bath, but this did not bring its usual restorative balm. She couldn’t be bothered to get dressed again afterwards, so she just slipped on a pair of loose French knickers in sky-blue satin and their matching bra, and flung a hip-length light wrap on top. After flicking from channel to channel, finding too many medical dramas (a genre she had never liked), rom coms (she was definitely not in the mood, even for a favourite like ‘Nine to Five’), and mindless action movies (just how many more tedious and obscure comic-book heroes were there still out there, waiting to be turned into identikit blockbusters, she groaned), and finally watching some talk shows in a half-interested way, she switched it off and wandered out to the kitchen.
She had already drunk two glass of red wine, and now poured herself another large one, nursing it together with her grievances against her flat-mate, and rehearsing what she would say to the arrogant cunt whenever she turned up on Sunday – no doubt sweaty and well-fucked. Veronica would not have had quite so much to drink if she had thought there was any chance that Kyla might come back that night – but, of course, that was exactly what happened.
Veronica was deep in grumbling contemplation, and did not hear the key turning the lock of the front door – so she jumped in shock when it was closed with an angry slam. Kyla had returned in a bad mood of her own; whatever had been the cause of her night out crashing in flames, she was less than happy about it. She strode abruptly into the kitchen, acknowledging Veronica’s presence with a grunt. Kyla was wearing the red boots, together with a micro-skirt in a red which almost matched them (so that’s why she wanted the boots!), so short that most of the top elastic of her black hold-ups was visible, and a tight and skimpy black stretch halter-neck that barely covered her demi-cup push-up black lace bra. Veronica felt a sharp stab of something in her gut – jealousy, she supposed, although why she should be jealous of such shameful harlotry, of an outfit that practically screamed ‘I’m a slut – spread me and fuck me!’, she did not know.
It started from there, with some disparaging throwaway remark from Veronica, to which Kyla responded with offended and unbridled heat. It became an argument, which turned into a full-scale shouting match. Veronica let her frustrations run loose, standing in front of Kyla with one hand on her hip and the other jabbing repeatedly on her flat-mate’s bountiful upper chest, as each point of the scathing indictment was delivered. By the time Veronica was in full spate, she had moved from the particular matter of arrogantly purloined boots, through Kyla’s failure properly to do her share of the household chores, to spread her wings and descend rhetorically upon her flat-mate’s character defects like a swooping eagle, claws fully extended.
Kyla got a word in edgeways, when she could – not very nice words, it must be said, which only raised the temperature further. Soon, she decided that she had had as much of this as she could take, and she disliked the way in which the smaller woman was intruding into her personal space. She gave Veronica a vigorous push backwards, and then, when the shorter woman responded to that by accusing her of being a slut, spending every weekend on her back, Kyla hissed furiously in return that anyway that was better than being someone who nobody wanted to be with.
This halted Veronica in mid-sentence; she went white with rage, and slapped Kyla across the face. The impact was not actually very hard, but the sheer surprise of it took Kyla off-balance, and the effects of several vodkas earlier in the evening slowed her reflexes and prevented her from recovering in time. She toppled sideways against the full-size fridge-freezer, causing it to shake violently, and then rebounded again.
Veronica was looking slightly shocked by her own action, and moved too slowly when Kyla swung back and delivered a stinging counter-slap. This left Kyla wide open to reprisal and, with a hysterical shriek, Veronica (who had done some martial arts training as a teenager) reacted almost by instinct and sank a fist into the soft flesh of Kyla’s stomach. The taller girl’s eyes bulged as she doubled over, but not before she reached out to grab Veronica, seeing red and determined to pound the snotty little bitch into the ground. Suddenly alarmed, Veronica gave a squeal of fright and lurched into motion, bolting for the door into the hallway. She whisked past Kyla’s fingers, just far enough to escape being seized but not sufficient to prevent the busty girl from grasping the sleeve of her robe, pulling it off as Veronica ran out of the room in just her bra and panties. However, the jerk to her shoulders as the wrap was ripped away sent the smaller woman off target, and her headlong flight collided with the door frame, sending her sprawling onto her hands and knees in the hallway.
She was not immediately set upon because Kyla needed several seconds to clutch onto the kitchen table, struggling to recover her breath and not to vomit into the sink. However, just as Veronica scrambled back to her feet, Kyla launched out after her flat-mate with a look of vengeful determination. Her longer stride enabled her to head Veronica off from the living room, and she chased her down the hall and into her own bedroom.
Veronica’s lead was so short that she had neither the time nor the strength to force the door shut against Kyla, who slammed her shoulder into it, heedless of the bruise that would result. The door spun inwards, knocking Veronica against the side of her bed. The two enraged women grappled with each other, trying for a winning hold, or even just to land a punch or slap and deliver some pain to a bitch who deserved it if ever anyone did. They fell onto the bed – which, like the others in the flat, for some reason was a double-size and not a single, a luxury they both had appreciated.
As they rolled around, at some point in the tussle Kyla’s halter neck came undone and she flung it away impatiently. At last, her greater size and strength prevailed, and Veronica was trapped beneath Kyla, who was holding her down with one thigh pressing between Veronica’s sprawled legs. She forced both of the smaller woman’s arms flat on either side of her head, pinioning them there with a vice-like grip on her wrists.
Out of breath, dishevelled and sweaty, they lay like this for about fifteen seconds, Veronica struggling slightly but futilely underneath. She felt intensely aware of warmth and weight of Kyla’s body on top of her, and of the leg that was pressing on her pelvis and her pubic mound. In the process of forcing her leg between her opponent’s thighs, Kyla’s micro-skirt had ridden all the way up to her hips. Veronica glanced away from Kyla’s heated glare, to discover that one of the curly-haired brunette’s full breasts had tumbled completely out of its sketchy bra cup (that’s what you get for wearing such a slutty outfit, she thought viciously). It was lying heavily on top of her own smaller titty, which had unaccountably responded with stiffening erection – the result of the adrenalin of the fight, it must be, Veronica told herself. She gazed at the curve of woman-flesh resting on her chest, and her throat went suddenly dry. She was aware of a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach and in her crotch, a peculiar mixture of tension and release.
Kyla was breathing heavily through her nostrils, snorting almost, her lips compressed tightly closed, as strange look stole over her face.
‘I know what you need, you snotty bitch!’ she said, but it was spoken surprisingly softly and not with the snarl which Veronica would have expected. What followed was even more of a surprise – breath-takingly so.
‘Oh, fuck it!!’ sighed Kyla, more in surrender than exasperation; ‘I’ve been wanting to do this for so long – fuck, what the hell, why not?’ Releasing one wrist, she gripped Veronica’s hair with her hand and leant downwards, pressing her lips against Veronica’s astonished and immobilised face, and kissing her with passionate fervour. Veronica slightly gasped, and the motion opened her lips enough for Kyla’s tongue to sweep inside – and to have an amazingly erogenous effect. Veronica’s mouth opened further, not just offering no resistance but responding, at first it seemed almost on its own initiative.
Maintaining and deepening the kissing, Veronica’s free hand tugged Kyla’s other breast out of its bra cup, squeezing the nipple with a firmness that was clearly a prelude to fucking rather than any renewal of fighting. Kyla’s head reared up, an astonished look of pleasure on her face, and in an instant Veronica drew the brunette’s tits to her mouth and started licking and nibbling them.
With a strangled moan, Kyla rolled off Veronica’s body to lie on her back, begging to be sucked and fucked. Veronica got an unbelievable rush from being in control of this sexual and sensual woman, and in an amazing moment of pure clarity she suddenly understood that this is what she wanted, what she had been missing. Ever since her first seduction by a female leader at a summer camp when she was a teenager, she had wondered about being bi-sexual, but she had never had the courage or the opportunity to explore this any further. Boyfriends had seemed like what she should do, what she ought to do if she was a ‘decent’ and ‘normal’ person, but her heart had never been in it.
Almost as if to make up for lost time in this single night, Veronica ripped Kyla’s panties down her legs and threw them across the room. She began roughly to finger her flat-mate’s cunt, and Kyla arched her back and spread her legs wide apart in response. Simultaneously with ramming her index finger into the wet hole of Kyla’s vagina, Veronica started sucking like a demented vampire on the other woman’s superb tits, fondling and kneading them so hard that there would be bruises in the morning – but neither woman gave a damn about that now!
Kyla was not an entirely passive participant in this instant lesbian love-fest. In her turn, she shoved a hand down inside Veronica’s panties, where she was now sopping wet, and pushed two fingers into her. Veronica gave a deep moan of pleasure, rearing up and then riding down against them, thrusting her own pelvis up and down, and after a few seismic seconds closing her eyes tight and shuddering in climax.
When she reopened them a few seconds later, Veronica’s mood – and her feelings for her flat-mate – had turned a complete somersault. She smiled down at the lusciously curved shape beside her, and instructed Kyla not to move – to which the latter replied with a ‘Yes, ma’am!’ and a coy sultry look through the lashes of half-closed eyes. Veronica leant across to the small cabinet beside her bed, and opened the drawer to pull out her trusty vibrator. Kyla regarded it with appreciation – it was quite a beauty, with a long straight shaft that was ribbed in an abstract crystalline pattern, and it had a five-pronged clitoral stimulator mounted two-thirds of the way down.
‘Mmmm, nice one, Vero – yes, yes please, ma’am!’
Veronica switched it on and pushed it slowly into Kyla’s pussy, using a pendulum-like motion, twisting first to one side, then the other. After a several inserts and withdrawals had fully lubricated Kyla’s vaginal tube, the dildo was thrust in far enough to bring the rotating clitoral prongs to their target at the top of Kyla’s labia.
‘Oh – my – God!’ gasped the prone brunette, and then; ‘Ohmigod … ooooh! … yes, do me … aahh! … shit … oh, GOD! … yes, yes – yes!! YES!!!’
The last was almost yelled out, as Kyla was overtaken by waves of orgasm which left her lying completely spent, her thoughts in a dazed whirl, while Veronica licked her clean and then smeared the pussy juice over her new lover’s breasts, as she returned her attention to those glorious mounds of flesh. Veronica’s fingers began a renewed flicking against Kyla’s engorged and now very sensitive clitoris, and within moments her ministrations to pussy and tits were rewarded with another bone-shaking orgasm from the big-busted wench.
After this, with sudden energy the brunette rolled them both over the other way, so that Veronica was underneath once more – but this time, she was making no protests or bids for freedom. Kyla reached under the smaller woman’s back to unsnap her bra, peeling it away. She ran her hands over Veronica’s chest, seeming to take great pleasure from cupping the smaller but firm breasts in her palms and stroking in circles around the stiffly prominent nipples. Veronica was amazed and thrilled when Kyla murmured, just before taking one of the tits into her mouth: ‘My God – you are just soooo sexy, babe!’ Veronica closed her eyes in rapture at the sensations that Kyla’s full lips and agile tongue were giving her, and she arched her back, spreading her legs wide. She felt so aroused that, as Kyla was totally focused on her breasts, she slipped her own hand down inside the blue French knickers, seeking her pleasure nub. However, Kyla noticed this, and with playful mock-severity she knocked Veronica’s hand aside, admonishing her not to be impatient as she would get to that in her own sweet time.
Following at least five minutes of erogenous titty-sucking, Kyla changed position entirely. Her own bra was hanging down below her breasts, and she quickly removed both this and the micro-skirt, so that she was now naked apart from her hold-ups and the coveted shiny red boots. She then slid Veronica’s knickers down to her ankles and over her feet, casting them aside and leaving her pretty flat-mate completely in the nude. Kyla swung across to straddle her prone body, pushing her ass almost back into Veronica’s face. The busty brunette then reached for her own pussy with one hand, pulling her labia apart and pushing the open pink cleft down onto one of Veronica’s nipples. As the smaller woman gasped in arousal, Kyla gripped her breast, pushing the nipple into even greater prominence, and began to titty-fuck herself with it. After a moment, sweat running from her face and down her back, she began to grunt and groan, and the motions of her pelvis took on a more lurching aspect as she began to ascend to climax. With her other hand, Kyla reached forwards in between Veronica’s invitingly spread legs, and thrust two fingers into her lover’s pussy. The only sound to be heard in the fourth-floor bedroom for the next several minutes was the groaning creak of the bed-springs under their combined weight, and the gasps and sobs for breath of two young women who were taking a running approach to the biggest, longest, most devastating orgasm they had ever known in their lives.
It was actually Veronica who came first, although only by a matter of seconds. With a sustained scream, her whole body jerked and writhed, as Kyla’s fingers rammed deep inside and her thumb impacted on Veronica’s clitoris. The two effects of this – the psychological one of having fucked her flat-mate almost senseless, and the physical one of Veronica’s sexual convulsions driving her tit even deeper into the pussy of the woman who was riding her like a demon – blew Kyla’s barriers, and she gave a series of barking yelps as her whole frame shivered in ecstasy. It was too much to take – an overload – and she collapsed forwards on top of Veronica, her breasts landing erotically just below the other woman’s cunt, and her head just below Veronica’s knees.
Of course, this position was so close to a 69 that Veronica could not resist her opportunity, and she pulled on Kyla’s hips to bring her spread-open crotch the necessary few inches so that the small woman’s tongue could explore it. Kyla did not hesitate to co-operate, as the process drew her face to the wide V at the join of Veronica’s legs, and the chance to lick and taste her pussy. The white heat of their energy was now spent, and by unspoken agreement they took their cunt-eating slowly, letting it build, until it resulted in another near-simultaneous orgasm, not as volcanic as the previous one but in many ways even more profoundly satisfying.
Finally, with some revival of stamina, Kyla announced that she knew just what was needed. She did another reverse turn, this time bringing her pussy up between Veronica’s spread legs and pushing it wetly against her cunt. They each took a bracing grip around one of the other’s legs, and in the scissors position they began a pussy-pounding tribbing session on which they both got off, grinding against each other in sweaty passion. In the midst of this, Veronica declared that she also knew exactly what she needed, and she transferred her grip from Kyla’s thigh to her bountiful and swaying breasts, cupping them upwards as she rubbed forwards upon the brunette’s slit, and pulling on the nipples when she did the downwards slide. Like a pair of bucking, fucking broncos, they jerked together spasmodically as an other orgasm flowered in their vaginas, making them catch their breath and whimper in exultation.
Now almost exhausted but wonderfully replete, they lay comfortably entwined together in the sweaty rumpled sheets. Kyla explained that she had always been a lesbian, but dared not say this at first, as she really needed a room to rent. Her intention had been to go out on Saturdays and trawl the well-known lesbian clubs and bars, sleep with whoever picked her up at the other woman’s place, and thus keep her sexual orientation a secret from her flat-mate. However, she had not expected to find Veronica so cute, so appealing, so fanciable. She had so enjoyed their evenings together in those first few weeks that she had begun to fall for her, and it was fighting against that feeling which had made her snappy, whilst at the same time her subconscious had been parading her physical charms. On this evening she had gone out, determined to shake it off, and had been chatted up by an attractive young woman at a gay bar – but, as they danced slow and close together, Veronica’s face and body kept coming into her mind, until she realised that it was no good, made her apologies and left. She had expected Veronica to have gone to bed, and had a vague plan of revealing how she felt over a companionable lunch the next day – but seeing her in that flimsy wrap, which had been hanging open to show her sweet titties in that striking blue bra, she had lost control of the situation altogether, and fallen back upon confrontation almost by instinct.
‘I’m so glad you did’, sighed Veronica, ‘I just didn’t understand my feelings for you, why we got on so well when you moved in and then it all went funny – but now I can see it was when I first starting to want you as a lover, not just as a friend.’
‘You do?’ gasped Kyla in tremulous hope.
‘I sure do – you and no other’, replied Veronica, suddenly quite certain about this, and she was rewarded with a radiant smile. She then tapped the chest of her new-found lover (gosh, that was a concept that she would need some time to take on board – her mind still skirted skittishly around labelling herself as a lesbian), and added, ‘No more playing around now, you’re mine – and mine only!’
Kyla nodded shyly, but clearly in seventh heaven. With a sudden renewal of energy, she got off the bed, en route fondly kissing Veronica’s mouth, neck, breasts, stomach and – ohmigod!! – pussy. She disappeared into her own room, returning in a few seconds to strike an erotic pose in the doorway, wearing an intimidatingly long strap-on dildo.
‘I – wanna – fuck – you – outta – your – sweet – little – skull!’, she declared to a goggle-eyed Veronica.
Of course, having had no lesbian sex since the few brief fumbling encounters as a teenager, Veronica had never been taken with a dildo before, but Kyla was more than happy to introduce her to its pleasures. First, she lay Veronica on her back, and gently spread her legs wide open. Kyla brought the nub of the plastic cock to nudge against the other woman’s cleft, slowly pushing it between the flowered petals of her outer and inner labia. It then sank in deeply with one long, slow, oozily sliding thrust, and in response Veronica gave a shuddering gasp and wrapped her legs around Kyla’s hips, crossing her ankles over the taller woman’s back. Veronica drank in every detail of being taken in this way, being turned on even more by the realisation that the woman fucking her was wearing her own red boots – and, shit, did they look good! Kyla began driving the dildo in and out of Veronica’s pussy in harder, faster and deeper penetrations, as Veronica moaned and begged her for more. Kyla firmly rode her new-found sweetheart all the way to the crest of another explosive climax, and then withdrew the dildo and used her mouth to lick up the cunt-juices – and so stimulate Veronica even more.
As if that was not enough satisfaction for one night, Kyla gave Veronica’s leg a shove, indicating without words that she should roll over onto her stomach. When she did so, Kyla swung across to kneel between her lover’s outflung legs, and reached forwards. Grabbing Veronica above her hips, she hauled her pelvis backwards so that the smaller woman was kneeling with her ass thrust up in the air whilst her tits and face still rested on the bed. Veronica gave an intake of breath in anticipation, luxuriating in the feeling of her cunt being so accessible, so wide open, so utterly fuckable.
‘Aaaaaa! Yes, ooohhh!’ she sighed, as the plastic phallus re-entered her from this new vantage, pressing against her vaginal walls in a different way, and rubbing her clit from a fresh angle. Being taken doggy-style (which Veronica was to discover was her favourite position for receiving a dildo) was such a turn-on, that quite quickly she had another climax and then, Kyla not having paused for a second in her rhythmic shafting, an amazing third. After this, Kyla unbuckled the strap-on, and she lay underneath the smaller woman in the 69 position, as they again explored each others’ cunts with both fingers and tongues. Two more climaxes each – the second, by mutual agreement, timed to take them both simultaneously – at last left them satiated (or, at least, satisfied for now).
Veronica’s mouth was full of Kyla’s sweet-tasting cunt-juice from the final orgasm, and she swallowed it down whilst reversing her position, bringing her head to rest on the pillow next to the other woman. Kyla gently stroked the nearer of Veronica’s breasts, telling her new lover how cute and perfectly-shaped they were, and that she just adored them. Veronica was both thrilled and amazed, and replied that they were so much smaller, hefting and squeezing one of Kyla’s tits to demonstrate her point. However, Kyla was dismissive of what she called her ‘balloons’, saying that they caused constant problems and had always brought her unwelcome attentions. Ever since they had swelled out in her teens, she had been pestered by boys and men, all of them convinced that if only they got their hands on her tits and give them a good grope, she would spread her legs for them like some simple child’s toy – press a button here, and it pops open there.
‘Well, I like them – very, very much’, whispered Veronica, sliding down a few inches in the bed so that she could rest her face again the fleshly pillow of Kyla’s bountiful mounds. She added in an apologetic murmur: ‘I know that I don’t look as hot as you do.’ However, Kyla would have none of this self-deprecation. At once, she responded to say that she had always thought Veronica was sexy – that she had always been attracted to slim, cute, innocent-looking girls, and Veronica was just her ideal type.
‘Do you remember that time, just after I moved in, when you were staring at my pussy?’ Kyla asked, as Veronica blushed at the vivid memory. ‘It made me wonder if I might have a chance with you after all – and I already really wanted that, just after the first couple of days! Do you remember what you were wearing then?’ Veronica shook her head, and Kyla continued with enthusiasm: ‘It was your smart black boots, that grey pencil skirt that just highlights your hips and ass, and a cute pink bra – you looked so good, I thought you must have noticed that my pussy was almost dripping wet! I had to run into my bedroom, lock the door, and do myself with the vibrator on top setting, you got me so hot! And then, you tantalising minx, you kept going cool on me one minute, and then doing things like wearing those pink towelling shorts, or bending over in that short wrap that you had on just now – once, when you did that with no panties on underneath, I could see everything!’
‘Did I do that? I don’t remember …’ replied Veronica doubtfully, but with a warm smile Kyla nodded firmly, and replied: ‘Oh, yes! You’ve been a terrible tease, even if you don’t realise it!’ In the cooling air of the early hours – it was now about 2.00 a.m. – they snuggled down in Veronica’s bed, under her warm duvet; it had not needed any discussion to know that they would spend the night in the same bed, and indeed the nights to come as well. The two young women continued to whisper small talk for a while, interspersed with loving endearments, until they both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.
And so, after this night of discovery and release, harmony descended upon the fourth-floor flat. The only domestic friction that now remained was the rasping gasping tribbing of pussy against pussy, and the pulverising pistoning of a strap-on dildo ramming in and out of a sopping vagina. For several weeks, the two women spent each evening exploring each other’s bodies and sexual tastes, and each night lay exhausted and entwined in each other’s arms and legs – contented, replete and secure, as the blaze of sexual attraction turned into the steady flames of affection and love.
I would have told you that they stayed together indoors every Saturday night from then on, but recently that is no longer true. Wearing their finest, they’ve ventured out on the town together, cruising the lesbian bars and clubs. Kyla’s tits catch the eyes of every red-blooded woman, as well they might when so much of them is put on view. But Veronica easily gets her share of interested looks as well, for – as Kyla is the first to say – she looks hot when she takes the trouble. In sheer white hold ups and pink shorts so brief and tight that all of the stocking tops are visible, her favourite red boots and a clingy white lambswool top that might be sprayed on, leaving no doubt that she wears no bra, she is an alluring and arousing picture of girlish pleasure. The voracious pair are trawling for sexy single lesbian girls or female couples to take back to the flat and fuck on the two double mattresses that lie side by side on the floor of what used to be Kyla’s room (but now, since they sleep every night in Veronica’s bed, has been reorganised as the romper room). If you should happen to be in Edinburgh, then look out for them, ladies – and, if you’re lucky, very lucky, then you might be taken to their love nest this Saturday night!
If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories … you might like them too … (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)
