Jessie Palmer Ch. 02

"But what if they don't want..." she blurted, and then stopped as she thought again.

Precious laughed softly and sat back, casually swinging one foot back and forward. Her black shoe dangled sexily from her toes as she explained.

"Believe me, Jessie, once they've been trained they're as eager as can be. And if not, well, a few compromising photographs make sure there's never usually a problem with that side of things."

She paused long enough to let the implication sink in, while Claire just stared at her, trying to make sense of the words. Compromising photographs? Was she hearing this right? That was blackmail, wasn't it? And what did Precious mean by 'trained'? Damn, her head was so fuzzy.

"I don't quite understand—" she muttered.

"That's okay," Precious told her reassuringly. "It's late and we can chat again tomorrow. You look tired, honey, so why don't you finish that drink and we'll get you home."

Yes, Claire thought, following the young woman's lead by raising her glass to her lips and swallowing the cocktail in one clumsy gulp.

They could talk again tomorrow. Right now, her head was getting fuzzier by the second and she needed to get home to her bed.

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Claire rested her head back against the seat in the rear of the taxi and closed her eyes. Precious had been so thoughtful, insisting on them sharing a cab. Her head was spinning ... too much alcohol ... way too much alcohol.

It must be close to one in the morning and the streets were brim full with drunken party-goers, stumbling either onto the next club or trying to waive a hand to encourage a passing taxi to take them home. If Precious hadn't helped her find a cab, she could be one of them.

The young woman was sitting close to her in the back of the cab, so close that Claire could feel her body heat.

"You okay, Jessie?" she heard Precious softly ask in her ear.

Was she mistaken, or had she felt the girl's tongue flick across her earlobe as she'd asked the question. It was pierced. No, there it was again—gently flicking around her ear. And Precious's hand was on her thigh, gently scraping her long red fingernails across her skin.

Claire turned her head to look at her, even though it felt so heavy. She smiled and nodded. It felt like too much trouble to speak. And the sensations created by the hot breath against her cheek, tongue flicking across her ear and fingernails scratching at her thigh were spreading through her body and pooling together between her thighs.

Precious was even more attractive than she'd previously thought. With her slender toned body, dark eyes and high cheekbones, she could have passed as a model, not a ... a ... well, an escort. And those full red lips looked so—well, they looked so kissable.

And the sexual intensity in the gaze that Precious had fixed on her only increased the heat between her legs.

"You're sure?" the girl asked.

Claire nodded again. That tongue was working its way around the inside of her earlobe now, the cold piercing erotically rubbing against her flesh. And the caressing fingers were scraping higher up her thigh, causing goosebumps to break out on her skin.

"Only, I've seen that look before, honey."

Claire stared back, and blinked as she tried to focus. When she tried to speak, the words were slurred, unintelligible. Shit. That last drink had pushed her over the edge.

Her glance dropped into Precious's cleavage. There were a couple of extra buttons undone, weren't there, and even in the dim light in the back of the taxi she could clearly see the girl's lacy black bra. Her breasts were spilling over the top.

When her eyes slowly drew upwards into Precious's again, the young woman smiled.

"That look," she whispered, leaning closer and planting a couple of feather-light kisses along Claire's exposed neck. "The one that says you need to get laid."

Claire blinked again. Yes, it was true. Her whole body was alive with arousal. It didn't help that Precious's fingers had pushed under the hem of her dress. She had somehow widened her legs, inviting them in. How had that happened?

She rested her head back against the seat and tried to focus. Holding on to any sort of clarity was just so difficult when her head was this fuzzy. Was Precious coming on to her? She closed her eyes in an effort to compose herself but that just increased the intensity of the feelings inside her.

The fingers were between her legs now. When they gently brushed against her black thong, Claire could hear her own breath coming out in panted gasps.

Lips softly brushed against hers. Once. Twice.

"Want to kiss me, honey?" the soft voice asked.

She forced her eyes open to look at the young woman but all she saw was those thick red lips next to hers. Closing them again—if she couldn't see what was happening, then she couldn't blame herself—she gave in to the need burning inside her and allowed the lips to cover hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, and in the darkness behind her closed eyelids it seemed as if every sense was heightened.

When the probing fingers pushed the material of thong aside she widened her legs, inviting them in. She was so wet. So needy. Two fingertips stroked her labia and she groaned. When they twisted and pushed their way inside, her body shuddered and she let out a long moan.

"Like I said earlier, anything goes between the girls in the business," a wicked voice whispered in her ear. "Want me to make you cum?"

Claire nodded. Fuck, yes. Her chest had begun to rise and fall as if she was about to hyperventilate and she so needed the relief that only an orgasm would bring.

The fingers inside her were moving with such a deliciously teasing slowness that she moaned out loud again. And again. She could hear herself. She couldn't stop moaning.

It suddenly occurred to her that the noise would have alerted the cab driver and he was probably watching in his driving mirror. But that only added fuel to the fire. She had masturbated in the restrooms when she'd watched Monika and her black friend seduce two white teenagers.

Was the driver wanking while he watched Precious take advantage of her?

The thought was suddenly too much.

So was the sensation of the light kisses along her neck and the way the fingers were roughly plunging inside her.

She shrieked as the climax overtook her and for those few sublime moments if felt as if it was never going to stop. When she eventually began to come down from the intensity of her orgasm, the cab had stopped.

"You're home," she heard a voice purr softly.

When her drowsy gaze flickered towards Precious again, she saw that the girl had raised her juice covered black fingers to her thick red lips. She lewdly sucked on them, one after the other, as Claire watched.

"I'll call you tomorrow, honey," she eventually said, lewdly lapping at the last finger. "We've got a lot more to talk about."