Playmates Ch. 2

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This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.

*******

"Vicky, can I ask you something personal?" Claire asked after a few moments of silence.

"Sure," Vicky murmured sleepily.

"Do you and Lance still have sex a lot?"

The question surprised her. She hadn't talked about sex with another woman since college.

"No, not really," she said honestly.

Claire sighed, relieved. "So it's not just us."

"Lance is getting more and more wrapped up in his career. He's determined to prove to my father that he's 'worthy'," Vicky said wistfully.

"Alan and I used to do it all the time, anywhere," Claire said frankly. "Then, I was sick for a few weeks, and somehow the medicine I was taking neutralized the pill, and out popped Angela. Now, the only time I get laid is when he's absolutely positive that I can't get pregnant. Which isn't very often."

Vicky thought back to what it used to be like. Lance had a great cock, a real long one. When they first started having sex, she'd cum before he was all the way in. Even if he'd been a total asshole, which he wasn't, she'd have married him just to be able to fuck him regularly. The memory made her a little moist. She opened her eyes and looked for her glass. Claire was looking at her, a grin on her face.

"What?" she asked sheepishly.

"You were smiling. What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," she said reddening.

"Yes you were. You were thinking about sex!"

"Keep your voice down!" she whispered, looking over at the pool. "They'll hear you."

Claire laughed and sat back. "I hate the heat sometimes, especially when I'm horny. I start to sweat, and it tickles my chest. Then my legs get slick and I start to get a little wet. The heat makes it worse, and soon it's all I can do to keep from touching myself."

Vicky's eyes widened at her friends confession.

"Oh, come on now! You 'help things out' sometimes, don't you?"

Vicky's face turned redder. "I don't know what you mean."

"What do you use, a vibrator? Or a plain old dildo? Or just your finger?" Claire seemed intensely interested.

"Oh God Claire, this is so embarrassing!"

"Oh come on, it's just us!"

"I could never use anything. Most times, I just rub myself until I relax."

"Do you cum?" Claire asked eagerly.

"Sometimes," Vicky said quietly. "But not often. It still feels good."

"That sucks. I hate being horny."

The two women lay back in their chairs, alone with their thoughts as they sipped their drinks. Vicky's mind was wandered, thoughts of sex and Lance and his cock pushing everything else out of her head. She felt a tiny itch, more like a buzz between her legs, a sure sign that she was excited, and cursed Claire for starting this train of thought.

At 11:30, Claire stood up and walked over to the pool, bending over to play with the children. She spread her legs as she leaned over, and Vicky could see the material of the thong bite into the puffiness of her labia, a few short black hairs spilling out on each side. A warm flush ran through her body as she stared at the other woman's sex, the material stretching provocatively between her legs, the dampness apparent. Maybe it was the heat, but her breath caught in her throat as watched the erotic display in front of her. Breaking the trance, she stood and walked over to the pool, helping Terry out and toweling him off. Inside, the children struggled to stay awake between bites, until Claire finally insisted that they all go up to Tanya's room and take a nap.

"Oh, we couldn't," Vicky began.

"Nonsense," Claire interrupted. "There are two beds in there and the girls usually sleep in the same bed anyway. If you try to take him home, he'll probably fall asleep in the car and wake up when you get home, and you will have missed your opportunity."

Vicky offered up a few more halfhearted protests, but she knew Claire was right. After the kids were upstairs and in bed, Claire went over to the fridge and pulled out some sandwiches and a couple of beers and started toward the family room.

"Come on, we can eat our lunch on the deck; we have a monitor out there."

Back on the lounges, the two women ate and talked some more. The conversation was a little stilted, as both women tried to avoid the topic of sex. Suddenly, Claire stood up.

"Hang out a sec," She said, dashing into the house.

She returned holding a towel.

"I've been reading this book on relaxation, and it has a few chapters on massage. Let me put this under you and we'll try it out."

Vicky stood up so that Claire could spread the towel out on the chair, and then lay down on her stomach.

Straddling Vicky's back, Claire began kneading and squeezing her neck, working out the tension and the tightness. A soft moan let her know she was doing a good job.

"Pull your suit down to your waist. I can work the kinks out better."

Vicky did and Claire made her way down to her back, poking and prodding her shoulder blades until she purred with contentment. With an expert touch she glided over Vicky's waist, her crotch rubbing warmly against the back of her thighs. Grabbing an ass cheek with each hand, Claire squeezed tightly, running her fingers along the seam in the crack of her ass. Vicky stiffened momentarily then relaxed again, but said nothing. Claire continued down Vicky's leg until she reached her ankles, where she gently massaged the curve of her instep, causing another soft moan to bubble out.

Vicky's head was spinning. She could tell Claire was aroused, could smell it as sure as she could smell her self, and she wanted to be repulsed but couldn't manage the emotion. Claire wasn't coming on to her, at least not overtly, and Vicky was not the kind of woman who went after other girls, but she couldn't deny that she was dripping wet either. Her nipples scraped painfully against the rough cotton of the towel and she shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

"How do you feel?" Claire asked thickly.

"It feels great. That's a really good technique."

"Then you'll really like part two. Turn over."

Vicky flipped onto her back but kept her eyes closed. She was embarrassed being exposed in front of this woman, but her nipples also jutted out, swollen and angry, giving away just how turned on she was. Claire straddled her waist again, letting her wet crotch rest on Vicky's stomach. The heat and the moistness startled her, and Vicky inhaled sharply. She arched her back as the light breeze played havoc with her inflamed tips. Teasingly, Claire traced circles with both hands, starting at the nipple, and increasing the circumference with each revolution. Vicky's chest rose and fell rapidly as she got more excited, and her nipples grew darker and thicker. She was shaking slightly, and sweating hard as Claire slid down her legs, letting her crotch rub against Vicky's. This time, Vicky actually squealed as Claire grabbed her hips, using his thumbs to manipulate the muscles. Shifting her attention to Vicky's thighs, she gradually worked her hands between her legs, taking care to avoid her crotch. Vicky tried to press against Claire's hands, but was unable to make contact.

The crotch of Vicky's swimsuit was stained dark green from leaking, and she was licking her lips very fast, like she couldn't get them moist enough. Claire was pretty wet herself, and her nipples poked angrily through the skimpy material of her bathing suit. She continued to move down Vicky's legs, reaching her feet and taking the time to massage each toe. When she started on the middle toe of the second foot, Vicky bucked violently and let out a sharp cry, balling up her fists and pounding the chair; she was actually cumming without being sucked or fucked. Amazing!

Claire stood and waited for Vicky to settle down. When it was over, Vicky lay there spent, arms dangling at her side, breast heaving from exhaustion. She opened her eyes tentatively and looked up at Claire. What had just happened? She could barely catch her breath, and just thinking about what happened made her nipples throb longingly.

Without saying a word, Claire walked back into the house. When she returned, she was wearing a large sloppy T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. Vicky quickly pulled up her top and covered her breasts. She smelled like a whore.

"Are the kids up?" she asked lamely, grasping for a safe subject, trying to avoid talking about what just happened.

"I think I heard them stir. It's almost 4:00."

Vicky bolted up. "I have to get home and start dinner." She scooped her stuff up and ran into the house calling out a quick goodbye.

She barely got cleaned up and dinner ready before Lance got home. She was still on fire from the afternoon, and tried desperately to relieve it when they climbed into bed. As usual, Lance waved her off, claiming an early meeting.

Frustrated, she got out of bed and went downstairs to the family room, looking for something on television to help her calm down. As luck would have it she stumbled across a softcore movie, one that happened to show two women embracing. Her mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon and unconsciously her hand moved between her legs.

She rubbed herself through her panties until she couldn't stand it anymore and pulled them off. She pushed back the hood covering her clit as the action on the screen heated up. She imagined that the women on screen were her and Claire and she felt her clit stiffen, allowing her to catch it between her fingers. She pulled on it, sending spikes of pleasure shooting through her groin, as she spread her legs apart wide and inserted a finger. She fucked her own finger, jamming it in while she teased her clit, the television flashing images of simulated sex between the two women.

She reached climax at the same time the actresses did, her body shaking as she came for the second time that day. She held her jaw clenched to keep from screaming, afraid of waking Lance and Terry, as every nerve in her body ignited. When it was all over she lay on the floor in front of the sofa, an infomercial now playing in place of the movie. She made her way upstairs and crawled into bed, more relaxed than she'd been in year. The next morning she never even heard Lance get up or kiss her on his way out. In fact, it was Terry tugging on her arm because he was hungry that finally roused her.

To Be Continued...