Girl Fun One

by Miranda Forbes

  She had come in Mercedes’ mouth! She could still taste herself. And then she had touched Mercedes until she had come. The scent of Mercedes’ pussy was on her fingers. It was no good pretending that what had happened had been some kind of aberration, or that she felt at all ashamed. What had happened had shocked her, but she didn’t regret it for a second.

  The next morning, Kate kissed Mercedes goodbye and, wearing last night’s dress she gingerly opened the door. Her own room was at the other end of the corridor. She checked that the coast was clear before making her move, heading down the corridor as fast as she could without actually running, feeling exactly like a naughty schoolgirl. She put her card in the slot and felt the door click, feeling immense relief.

  “Kate?”

  Jo was standing in the corridor behind her, dressed and looking ready to go.

  “Oh, er, hi Jo, I’ve, er, just got to have a shower. I’ll, er, see you in a bit.”

  Kate closed the door behind her, her cheeks burning. Jo had simply raised her eyebrows at her, but she was not stupid. She really was going to have a shower, and then there was only just going to be time to pack before check-out. Too bad she had missed breakfast, but she could get something at the airport.

  One hour later they were gathered in the lobby. A taxi was waiting to take Kate, Jo and Grace to the airport. Mercedes, Jools and Helen were getting a later flight. Kate could feel Jo’s eyes on her, but she didn’t care. She went up to Mercedes, who was looking naturally gorgeous in a white vest and jeans, and swapped phone numbers, aware that everyone else was watching.

  “Taxi!” The cab driver put his head round the door, impatient.

  “See you soon, sweetie,” Mercedes breathed in her ear, before giving her a hug and a kiss on the lips that was rather more than friendly.

  Her face burning, but her heart happy, Kate grinned at the grumpy taxi driver and headed out the door, feeling the curious looks of the others practically boring holes in her back. Seated in the cab, next to a puzzled-looking Grace, Kate looked out and waved, gazing at Mercedes’ beautiful hair shining in the sun as she blew Kate a kiss.

  The Choice

  by Alex Jordaine

  Lauren and Sam had been best friends since they’d been pupils at the exclusive school for girls, Roedean, on the East Sussex coast. Sam was lively and outgoing, confident, shrewd, witty and highly creative. She was also a natural beauty, with creamy alabaster skin, feline cheeks, big pale blue eyes, and shoulder-length blonde hair. And, if that weren’t enough, she had a figure to die for as well. She was as statuesque as a dancer, an exotic one.

  Like Lauren, Sam had been born into money and, like her too, she wore her wealth with consummate ease. This was in no small part because, like Lauren in this respect as well, she was not one of those ladies who lunch. Lauren was doing very well in the publishing field, loved her job. Likewise Sam was making – had made – her mark on the world in her own right and was a very talented and successful fashion designer. The name of Samantha Burrell was now spoken of in the same breath as the likes of Stella McCartney, Alice Temperley and Roland Mouret.

  Sam was also unashamedly gay. When asked a very pointed question about her sexuality once by a fashion journalist her reply, repeated with monotonous regularity in the media ever after, had been typically sardonic. ‘Put it this way,’ she’d said. ‘I’m not interested in anything with a tassel.’

  It hadn’t always been so. She’d had plenty of boyfriends when she and Lauren had been younger; ‘boy mad’ their parents had said they were in their teens. Lauren had been surprised when Sam had come out as a lesbian. It had been shortly after her own marriage to Mark and she’d wondered illogically if it had something to do with her being in the fashion industry. It seemed to Lauren that it was virtually a statutory requirement for the men in the world of fashion to be gay. Was it perhaps the same with the women?

  No, that didn’t make any sense at all. Sophie Dahl wasn’t gay, nor was Naomi Campbell. Kate Moss wasn’t gay either. But hadn’t Lauren read somewhere that Kate had enjoyed some dalliances with her own sex, threesomes and the like? Maybe it had begun like that with Sam, starting as a bit of experimentation and ending with her conclusion that she ‘wasn’t interested in anything with a tassel’. No matter, if Sam was gay, she was gay. It didn’t affect their friendship at all. But that, of course, is exactly what it ended up doing.

  On the day it all started Lauren had been driving round the centre of London. She was stuck in a slow conga of seemingly interminable traffic, as she tried to find a parking space. When she finally succeeded it happened to be only a stone’s throw away from where Sam lived and she decided on a whim to see if she was in. If she was, she thought, perhaps she’d like to join her in what she’d originally been intending to do on her own: have a bit of a shopping spree. She was feeling rather low and thought it might lift her spirits.

  Once she’d parked the car and fed the meter, Lauren walked past a hotel and a short terrace of up-market shops to Palling Court. She arrived at the tall red-brick apartment block, where her friend had lived for the last three years. Sam had always said she wanted to be ‘where it was at’, right at the heart of things in London. She’d found that with Palling Court, which was in the middle of the West End.

  It was an overcast day, the sky the colour of a fogged negative, and there was a damp feeling in the air. There was just starting to be a spatter of rain as Lauren approached the block. Shit, she thought. I haven’t brought an umbrella. Perhaps I can borrow one from Sam – if she’s in, of course. She pressed the number of her address on the door entry system and hoped for the best.

  ‘Hello,’ she heard Sam say.

  ‘It’s me, Lauren.’

  ‘Great,’ came the friendly response. ‘Come on up.’

  There was a sharp buzz and Lauren pushed open the front door of the block and made for the lift area. She entered the lift and stared at the wan reflection of her face in the lift’s smoked-glass mirror. She decided to put on a brave face for Sam. There was no need to burden her friend with her marital troubles. She emerged from the lift on the tenth floor a few moments later and walked down the spotlessly clean corridor. She stopped outside number 53, where she pressed the bell.

  After a few seconds the door was opened by Sam. Lauren thought she looked even more stunning than usual, not least because of what she had on. Her shining blonde hair hung down over the shoulders of an absolute killer dress. It was a clinging little black number with spaghetti straps. Her breasts were almost falling out of its top and it was so short that it barely covered her sex.

  She was bare footed and, if Lauren knew her friend, bare-arsed under that dress, which she guessed might well be one of her own designs. Yes, she looked stunning. She smelled stunning too, some very classy perfume Lauren thought she recognised. It was musky, sexy.

  ‘That’s a nice dress you’re nearly wearing,’ Lauren joked, rolling her eyes.

  Sam put her hands on her hips and smiled at her. ‘And hello to you too,’ she said. ‘To what do I owe this honour?’

  ‘I was in the area,’ Lauren said. ‘I thought I’d try you on the off chance. I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Sam assured her. ‘Actually, I’ve just this minute made some coffee. Want some?’

  ‘Sure, thanks.’

  Lauren followed Sam down a longish corridor in the direction of the kitchen and allowed her eyes to linger on the sway of her friend’s hips, the way her hem kept riding up her naked thigh. She suddenly felt horny. That was funny, she thought. Sam had never had that effect on her before, no girl had. She was straight, not even a bit bi, right. Right?Perhaps it was just the effect of that killer dress. Looking at her friend in it was making her mouth dry. She felt she needed that coffee.

  ‘Did you design your dress?’ she asked, taking Sam’s arm.

  ‘Un huh.’

  ‘What look were you going for?’

  ‘Haute couture meets tra
iler trash,’ Sam replied giving her a sideways look, her eyes shining with mirth.

  ‘You succeeded,’ Lauren laughed.

  Sam grabbed a couple of mugs when they got to the kitchen and they sat down at the table opposite one another. Sam poured them both coffees from the glass pot on the table and added milk from the jug next to it. They drank quietly for a few moments before Lauren asked, ‘So, how are things with you?’

  ‘Very good,’ Sam said, taking a sip of coffee. ‘Give it another year or two and I’m confident of being bought out by Versace or Dior or one of the other heavy hitters in the fashion business.’

  ‘And you want to be bought out like that, presumably,’ Lauren said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Sam replied. ‘That way I’ll get backing, advertising, money for my shows, accessories, support, it’ll be great. It will mean that I’ll be able to do the stuff I like doing, and offload what I don’t. And it will mean I’ll get more time to spend doing other things outside the fashion industry, like spending time with friends like you.’

  ‘That sounds marvellous,’ Lauren said. ‘I hope it works out for you.’

  ‘Well, there’s a way to go but everything seems to be proceeding according to plan so far,’ Sam said. ‘And it’s a goal worth going for. After all, there’s more to life than work.’

  ‘God, I wish Mark could get himself a deal like the one you’re aiming at,’ Lauren said with feeling. Whether Mark wished that himself was quite another matter. Lauren was coming increasingly to the view that her husband preferred spending time at his high-flying job in the big London-based marketing agency of Simpson and Gray to being with her. He desperately wanted a place on the company’s board of directors and was working so hard towards that end that it had completely killed his libido. That’s what he told her anyway. In any event, he couldn’t get it up these days and they hadn’t had sex in months.

  Sam took a swallow of her coffee. ‘He’s really busy, is he?’ she asked.

  ‘And how,’ Lauren said. ‘I work hard at my job and really enjoy it but, like you, I think there are limits. You’ve got to have a life too. The hours Mark has to put in these days are ridiculous. I’ve barely seen him these last few months. It’s like he’s married to Simpson and fucking Gray rather than me. I try to be philosophical about it, though. He’s so exceptionally busy at present because he’s working on a big project that could well mean a major promotion for him, get him onto the board of directors, no less.’

  ‘It can’t go on for ever then,’ Sam said and Lauren shrugged in a noncommittal way. ‘Any end in sight?’ Sam persisted, parting her lips quizzically.

  ‘Nope,’ Lauren said. ‘Well, not at the moment anyway. To tell you the truth, Sam, it’s really starting to get me down.’ She hadn’t meant to say that, had meant to keep her own counsel, keep her matrimonial problems to herself.

  ‘I can see that,’ Sam said. ‘I thought you were looking pretty stressed out as soon as I saw you, Lauren. Your little joke about my dress didn’t fool me, I know you too well.’

  ‘You’re a good friend,’ Lauren said softly. ‘The best.’ She drank some more coffee and then put her mug on the table.

  The two women were quiet for a time, neither talking nor drinking. Then Sam lifted her mug and took a long sip of coffee. After that she rested her mug on the table and stared at Lauren for several long seconds, frowning. Finally she said, ‘I know what you need.’

  ‘A bit of retail therapy,’ Lauren said, brightening slightly.

  ‘Wrong,’ Sam replied, with a shake of the head.

  ‘What doI need then, wise one?’ Lauren asked with a slightly forced smile.

  ‘One of my massages,’ Sam said, not skipping a beat. ‘It’ll do you the world of good, believe me, untense all those muscles. You’ll leave this apartment a different woman.’Lauren would remember those words.

  ‘A massage, huh. Do you do “relief”?’ Lauren joked, doing the quotation marks in the air thing with her fingers.

  ‘Why?’ Sam countered. ‘Do you feel in need of relief?’ She smiled and looked at Lauren, her pale blue eyes engaging with hers for just a fraction longer than was necessary.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Lauren chuckled. Mark might not want sex these days but she sure as hell did and she was feeling thoroughly deprived. She hadn’t had sex for ages and ages. Mark wouldn’t even deign to give her a pity fuck. But no, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get it up, poor guy. Anyway, the point was it had been three whole months since he’d so much as laid a finger on her, and she was a very highly sexed woman with, well, needs, for crissake. She felt a twinge of frustrated desire inside her sex, by no means the first she’d felt over the last twelve weeks.

  ‘Come on,’ Sam said, getting to her feet. ‘Let’s be having you.’

  Lauren quickly finished the remains of her coffee, set the mug on the table and followed Lauren to her bedroom.

  Like the rest of Sam’s apartment it was neat and tidy and furnished in a minimalist style. There were low bedside tables either side of the neatly made double bed and at its foot was a wardrobe with well-finished louvered doors. Against the wall beside that was a high-backed chair. There was a chest of drawers with an uncluttered surface up against another wall.

  ‘Off with those clothes,’ Sam said in a tone of theatrical command.

  ‘Yes, Miss Dynamic,’ Lauren said with a laugh that she was conscious was a little too loud. She undressed, folding her dress over the back of the chair and lining her shoes together under it. She squirmed out of her thong. ‘I wasn’t flying commando like I bet you are,’ she said, giving her friend a grin.

  ‘You’re not wrong there,’ Sam said with a straight face.

  ‘Shameless,’ Lauren laughed.

  Sam narrowed her eyes and smiled to suggest that maybe she was right in that assessment. She didn’t say anything though. Instead she stopped and stared for a moment, in appreciation, at Lauren’s naked form.

  ‘Who are you staring at, mate?’ Lauren said mock-aggressively in a ridiculous ‘mockney’ accent.

  Sam raised an amused eyebrow at Lauren’s impersonation. ‘I love your figure,’ she said, letting her eyes sweep over Lauren’s body once more. ‘It’s so shapely, such a refreshing change from all the stick insects I work with all the time in my trade.’

  ‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ Lauren replied, tilting her head back a little and lowering her eyelids, letting her gaze go up and down that floaty-clingy-sexy dress, appraise that lovely figure, those beautiful unbound breasts, those shapely thighs.

  Sam gave her more than an appraising look as she did this, which did not go unnoticed by Lauren. She wants me, Lauren found herself thinking. I never realised that before. And I want her. I certainlynever realised that before. She could imagine tonguing her friend’s pussy, could imagine putting her fingers inside her. She was getting not a little turned on and could tell that behind the impassive, slightly amused expression that Sam was wearing she was turned on too.

  ‘Get onto the bed and roll over onto your front,’ Sam said, ostensibly all business. ‘I’m going to knead your back from neck to ankles. You’ll really feel the benefit.’

  Lauren lay on her stomach on top of the bedspread and her hair fell loosely across her face. She tucked her arms under one of the pillows, leaving the swell of her breasts visible where they pressed against the mattress. Her back sloped downward to the valley at the base of her spine, and then rose again at the graceful curve of her glorious backside.

  True to her word, Sam started at the top, touching the back of her neck. From there she moved across her shoulders, kneading the muscles there. It felt great, really relaxing, and Lauren gave herself to the experience. Next Sam began stroking gently down the top of her spine and over her shoulder blades, gliding her hand gently over her skin.

  Then she planted a small kiss on Lauren’s neck. ‘It’s so lovely to see you,’ she said softly. ‘You’re adorable.’ Lauren gave a little shudder in response. Sh
e could feel herself go wet between the legs.

  Sam massaged her back some more – a kind of soft pummelling, awakening the skin, warming the muscles. ‘Mmm,’ Lauren said. ‘You’re so good at this.’

  Sam moved down to her feet then and began to softly caress her calves, stroking them, feeling her slim muscles. Lauren imagined her friend kissing and licking her calves, each of her toes, worshipping her feet. The thought of it created an ache between her legs and her clit began to twitch.

  Then Sam knelt on the bed and moved up her thighs. ‘Your skin is so soft here,’ she purred. The ache between Lauren’s legs was getting more acute. Her pussy felt slippery. Sam pushed Lauren’s legs apart to make room for herself and Lauren nearly climaxed there and then. She could feel her blood singing in her veins and her breath was coming quicker. Sam trailed her fingers lightly over her thighs. Lauren was now soaked.

  And then it happened. Sam plunged her fingers into all that wetness between Lauren’s legs, making her groan with desire. She began pushing her fingers in and out of her pussy fast and hard and, God, it felt sogood.

  Then Sam did something else. She brought her mouth to Lauren’s rear cheeks and pressed her lips to her anus, licking her until she trembled with desire. And all the while her tongue was flick-flick-flicking its magic over Lauren’s anus she carried on masturbating her, making her clitoris pulse with a moist insistent throb until, all her nerves singing, a powerful orgasm shook and scorched her to ecstasy.

  Finally Lauren fell back down to earth. She rolled over then, revealing her naked breasts and erect brown nipples and the copious wetness between her thighs. She brushed her long hair from her face and looked into Sam’s eyes. ‘Your turn now,’ she said.