FillingtheVoid

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FillingtheVoid Page 5

by Zenobia Renquist


  “You know I love you for more than that.” Fred wiggled her tongue between the V she created with the two fingers in front of her mouth. “And like Mia, I didn’t get any this morning.”

  Arisa leaned over and laid a kiss on Fred’s lips. “Sorry, honey. The shop had a thing. If I hadn’t gone to check on it, I would have had to miss today. So which is worse—missing morning sex or missing this?”

  Fred sniffed loud and shrugged in indifference. “Fuck it. I can get morning sex any day of the week but Tuesday is the only time I can watch you eat Naomie’s pussy.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Arisa slid the covered tray in the middle of the table over closer to Fred. “And pussy eating is later. Right now is cheesecake. Voilà.” She pulled the top off.

  Everyone did the requisite oohs and aahs at the bit-sized cubes of cheesecake—all different flavors. It looked like thirty pieces, maybe more. Every meeting had a different treat courtesy of Arisa. She had them on a rotating schedule and Naomie loved cheesecake week the best.

  Arisa presented the tray to Naomie. “For you, my lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Naomie reached for a red-and-white-swirled piece. She guessed it was strawberry.

  Fred smacked her hand, making her drop the piece. “No, you don’t.”

  “But I—” Her protest died as Fred grabbed the piece Naomie had been aiming for. “Fred, I wanted that.”

  “So take it.” Fred held it in front of Naomie’s face.

  “Ah.” Naomie opened her mouth to receive it but Fred pulled it away. She leaned forward, following Fred’s hand until she caught it, taking the cheesecake and Fred’s fingers into her mouth.

  Fred used Naomie’s new position to slip her free hand under Naomie’s ass so she could tickle her pussy lips.

  Naomie squirmed and squeaked while trying to eat the piece at the same time. She wasn’t going to let a little arousal distract her from eating Arisa’s creations. They were sex for her taste buds, which amounted to foreplay. Though Fred preferred the more direct approach. The woman rubbed Naomie’s lower lips so her thong slipped between them.

  Arisa said, “There’s a five-piece minimum before you can play.”

  “Fine.” Fred pulled her fingers from Naomie’s mouth, which got a perturbed sound from Naomie at the loss, and grabbed five of the closest pieces. Fred popped them into her mouth one after the other in rapid succession. Naomie got the feeling Fred swallowed them whole, which was a complete waste. Fred grinned at her wife. “Done. Now I can play and I’ve been waiting to play with Naomie all morning. Especially this right here.”

  The pad of her thumb pressed against Naomie’s asshole. Both startled. Though Naomie’s was from heightened arousal at the unexpected stimulation while Fred’s was from surprise.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” Fred jostled Naomie forward into the edge of the table at the same time she yanked up Naomie’s microskirt and peered at her ass. “Where the hell is your plug?”

  Mia snickered and said, “This is about the time I make a joke about her being charged already.”

  Arisa laughed with her. “Or a battery-operated toy.”

  The women toasted with the cheesecake bites and then ate them.

  Fred said, “Ha. Ha. Her plug is missing.”

  Naomie, who was draped over the table but didn’t mind since it put her closer to the food tray, said, “I already told you I didn’t have sex with Dane this morning. He puts it in when we finish. We didn’t even start.” She grabbed another bite, choosing cherry this time.

  A bit of cream stuck to her fingers so she licked it off before going in for another piece. She paused when she noticed the others had stopped moving. A quick glance around revealed she suddenly had everyone’s attention.

  Naomie looked back and forth between Arisa and Mia. “What?”

  Fred laid kisses on Naomie’s shoulders. “Oh, baby doll, baby doll. Don’t you know that plug was the only thing keeping us away from your ass?” She pressed her thumb forward, not enough to penetrate, and wiggled it.

  Naomie gasped before letting loose a happy moan and shifting on Fred’s lap. “If you wanted me to take it out, you should have said so.”

  Mia said, “Dane put it in and only he can take it out.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You don’t think it’s like that. I guarantee he does. That man is marking his territory and we respect that. However he didn’t today so you know what that means…” Naomie could swear she saw a glint in the corner of Mia’s right eye.

  Fred said, “Open season.” She stood, forcing Naomie to do the same.

  Naomie didn’t get a chance to ask what Fred was doing because the woman stepped to the side and pulled Naomie back onto the stool. Naomie shook her head but moved as prompted until she sat half off the stool with her ass over air, her thighs parted to maintain her perch and her breasts resting on the table.

  “There you go, baby doll. Stay just like that.” Fred framed her hands around Naomie’s ass. “Now don’t move, unless you want to squirm. You know how much I love when you squirm.”

  Naomie gripped the edge of the table. She knew what was coming. Fred loved anal play. Arisa praised and lamented the fact whenever the subject came up since it was her ass Fred played with the most. And to date the plug Naomie normally wore had kept Fred at bay. The woman had relegated herself to licking the plug’s jeweled base and grumbling about its presence. She’d also tugged on it as a way of teasing but had never removed it.

  Of course Naomie had known Fred wanted the plug gone. She’d also known how intense the weekly session would be without it. Self-preservation had kept Naomie from removing it. Exhaustion had made her forget it wasn’t there today.

  As Fred slid her tongue from the edge of Naomie’s slit to her asshole and then hooked the end of her ball stud inside her hole, Naomie knew her friends would be making up for the years of missed opportunities. She prayed for strength and endurance because she hadn’t gotten enough sleep for this.

  A pleasured cry left her when Fred flicked the tip of her tongue in rapid motion against Naomie’s hole. That was Fred’s signature move and it had made each woman in the room—and the missing Kristine—orgasm in less than a minute each time she’d employed it. Naomie was no exception. Nipples, clit or asshole—once Fred got her tongue going, release would soon follow.

  The food tray started rattling. Naomie couldn’t figure out why until she realized her body was quivering, which caused the table to shake. Mia and Arisa watched her with rapt fascination, both women smiling wide and munching cheesecake bites like popcorn in a movie theater.

  Naomie was their feature film and she was about to climax. Her wet pussy slicked the stool and eased the way for her to shift in tight little circles.

  “I knew your ass was your weak spot. No wonder you always keep it hidden.” Fred delivered that statement with smug satisfaction.

  Naomie couldn’t deny it, mostly because Fred dipping her tongue into Naomie’s asshole rendered all higher brain function inactive. “Oh! Oh yes! Oh God, yes!”

  She reached back one hand, grasped Fred’s head and pulled the woman closer. She wanted Fred deeper. Yes, Naomie’s asshole was her weak spot. She no longer cared if the women knew so long as they used the knowledge against her toward a pleasurable end.

  An end where Naomie dropped her head to the table as she cried out her release. She alternated between satisfied moans and pitiful whimpers. The orgasm had taken a lot out of her, not that she’d had much to give.

  Fred retreated after a final lick and grazed her teeth over one of Naomie’s ass cheeks. She straightened, pressing her breasts against Naomie’s back. Close to Naomie’s neck, she said, “You know that was just the intro, right, baby doll? And this isn’t a bar so putting your head down doesn’t mean anything.” She edged her hand under the string of Naomie’s thong and then slipped a single finger inside Naomie’s pussy.

  An instant shot of pleasure arced through Naomie. She sat up str
aight and then sagged back, trusting Fred to support her. Naomie snaked her torso, rubbing herself against Fred, and purred. A single finger shouldn’t get her this excited. She guessed her body was still primed after her session with Jaime.

  Arisa said, “I love watching her when she gets squirmy.”

  “You and me both,” Mia said. “She makes me want to come and no one is touching me.”

  “Yet.”

  “Yes, yet. But Fred started this show with Naomie.”

  “I agree. And it’s not fair for Fred to have all the fun.” Arisa retrieved a chocolate-swirl cheesecake bite from the tray.

  Naomie opened her mouth, thinking Arisa would feed it to her. Instead Arisa slipped her free hand under Naomie’s top, shifted it so it revealed her right breast, and then placed the bite on Naomie’s nipple. She had to hold it in place since Naomie was moving too much for it to stay there on its own.

  The cool dessert made Naomie’s nipple grow taut. As Arisa lowered her head, Naomie started panting in anticipation. Arisa’s hot mouth surrounded the bite and Naomie’s nipple, taking them both in and sucking them at the same time. The cream melted with their combined heat. Arisa used her tongue to paint it over and around Naomie’s nipple just so she could lick it off again.

  When the last remnants of the bite were gone, Arisa continued relishing the hard bud between her lips. Her sounds of delight mingled with Naomie’s hard breathing. Naomie knew how to make Arisa louder, how to give as good—if not better—as she was getting.

  Naomie released the table and moved her hand to Arisa’s thigh, using her smooth skin as guide to her pussy. Panties, wet panties, blocked Naomie’s way. Panties. Why had Arisa bothered? It always seemed as though Naomie was the only one who dressed knowing the clothes would be coming off in a hurry, especially today of all days.

  Then again, that’s how she always dressed. She decided not to the let the thin cotton impede her progress or ruin the mood. In fact, once she maneuvered her hand down the front and cupped Arisa’s pussy, the panties held Naomie’s hand in place. Maybe they were a good idea after all.

  Arisa shifted closer to Naomie and widened her stance, swaying her hips side to side. Naomie enjoyed the silky moisture that greeted her fingers when she caressed Arisa’s lower lips. Arisa let out high-pitched, needy squeaks each time Naomie got close to her clit. Naomie liked the sound so much she continued dodging Arisa’s clit just to hear it.

  Naomie let out a squeak of her own when Fred added a second finger inside her pussy and thrust them hard enough that Naomie shifted up on the stool as she circled her hips, trying to take them deeper.

  Fred asked, “You teasing my cookie?”

  Naomie shook her head.

  “You sure? Because that sounds like begging to me.”

  “You would know,” Naomie said in a breathy voice.

  Fred pulled her fingers back and thrust them again. “Did I just hear sass?”

  “Yup. You heard this too.” Naomie nudged the hood of Arisa’s clit and the woman answered with a begging whine.

  “You are just asking for it, aren’t you?” Fred pumped her fingers fast.

  “Oh yes, I am. Give it to me.” Naomie scooted farther back on the stool until only her knees around the edge and Fred at her back kept her from falling over. The legs of the stool grated against the tile flooring because of Naomie’s bouncing to meet Fred.

  Finger play, not even fingers that felt as good as Fred’s, wouldn’t get Naomie off, but the internal massage had its own merits that Naomie thoroughly savored. She shared the sensation with Arisa, finally flicking the woman’s clit.

  Arisa ripped her mouth from Naomie’s nipple at the same time she squeezed her thighs together. Fine shivers vibrated her clit against Naomie’s hand. Her change in position didn’t stop Naomie’s attention. She continued wagging the tip of her finger over Arisa’s clit with a speed that would make most stimulators jealous. Fred had her instant-orgasm tongue and Naomie had magic fingers.

  Naomie had Arisa bobbing in place and moaning loud. Fred reached over Naomie with her free hand so she could pull Arisa to her for a deep kiss. Arisa hugged Fred as best she could with Naomie between them. A light pinch to Arisa’s clit sent her into her orgasm. Arisa let out crying pants between kisses. Only when Arisa was whimpering in the way Naomie had been earlier did Naomie pull her hand free.

  Arisa dropped to her knees, breathing hard. She appeared dazed.

  Naomie grinned at her handiwork. Bringing her damp fingers to her lips, she licked them with a proud smirk. “Next.”

  Fred, who hadn’t stopped treating Naomie’s pussy to her fingers, asked, “Mia, you planning on joining the fun or just watching?”

  “I’m still debating.” Mia had hungry lust filling her dark gaze but she didn’t go in for teasing. She was the all-or-nothing type, claiming foreplay was for men who needed to confuse their women into thinking they had lasted longer than a minute. That wasn’t to say she didn’t like foreplay. She just preferred getting to the point for the Tuesday get-togethers since time was a factor.

  Her husband would be home in another three or four hours. Arisa had taken the day off but for her that only meant a few hours. She had to return to start the preparations for the next day’s business. Fred would leave with Arisa because she didn’t like her wife roaming around at night without backup. Naomie liked being home before Dane so she could greet him with a kiss and possibly welcome-home sex…depending on how hard his day had been.

  If Kristine had been there, she would have whined and complained about having to leave in time to get home before her kids, which usually meant she left long before the others, who only paused long enough to wave her out the door. Likewise, whenever Kristine hosted, she had an alarm set up so she could get the ladies dressed again and respectable. If that meant cutting them off two seconds before a mind-blowing orgasm…oh well.

  And no, Naomie hadn’t been happy about that either. She’d jumped Dane the second he got home from work that day, not that he’d minded. The girls had suggested skipping Kristine’s house but the woman insisted. None of them could relax there, which meant it took them a while to get into the spirit of the day.

  Frankly Naomie wanted Kristine to stop. Period. No more hosting. No more get-togethers. She loved Kristine and they were close but they were platonic close. Naomie felt nothing when Kristine touched her—and refused to fake it—and had found plenty of ways to avoid engaging the woman. With five women in the room, it was easy to lose track of whose hands belonged to whom…for them. Naomie always knew who was touching her. Since Kristine didn’t know, Naomie used that to her advantage.

  Peer pressure and a lot of white wine had led to Kristine’s initial participation. Mia, Arisa, Fred and Naomie had been fucking each other for weeks before Kristine figured it out. While Kristine had said she wanted in on the fun, she couldn’t bring herself to do it until she had some alcohol in her system. Though her definition of some was almost an entire box of wine.

  Naomie understood being nervous. Her first time with a girl had been her high school boyfriend’s sister after prom. She’d been jumpy and unsure. Rather than going to a motel for the stereotypical after-prom activities, Naomie had ended up driving her drunk boyfriend home and praying his parents wouldn’t be there to greet them. Thankfully his parents had been out, but his sister—home from college—had been in. A joint bitch fest about how stupid the boyfriend was for drinking himself into a stupor led to “comfort hugging” to “groping hugging” to kissing and then beyond.

  From that day until Naomie graduated high school the following year, she and her boyfriend’s sister had a sexual relationship hidden behind spending girl time together. Her boyfriend discovered the relationship two seconds after his sister gave Naomie a deep, passionate kiss following graduation. The blowup that ensued—complete with yelling and name-calling—had taught Naomie the value of an open relationship.

  She hadn’t liked sneaking around, not like that. She’d had othe
r relationships at the time that required secrecy but those had been non-emotionally-involved affairs. For someone she’d loved or thought she’d loved, the lies and pretending grated on her nerves and made the relationship feel dirty. As much as she liked sex, she’d decided then and there the man who ended up with her—and by then she’d known it wouldn’t be her then-boyfriend—would have to realize he would be sharing her.

  Dane was that man. They’d carried their open relationship from college into an open marriage. That worked for them. It worked for Arisa and Fred. It worked for Mia and Quincy. It didn’t work for Kristine because her husband didn’t know about her extracurricular activities when she was out with the girls.

  Stuart truly thought Kristine and her friends were sitting around a table, eating bonbons and talking. Naomie had lost the ability to look him in the eyes. She didn’t like being around him at all because the same feeling that plagued her in high school had returned.

  Guilt.

  Gnawing, gut-twisting guilt. The others knew how she felt. They had tried to talk to Kristine but the woman wouldn’t hear any of it. She’d insisted Stuart wouldn’t care. At the same time, she’d refused to tell him and find out for sure.

  Kristine had said it was harmless fun to blow off steam—a sentiment with which Naomie agreed, though she didn’t appreciate Kristine using that as an excuse to deceive her husband. But Naomie had dropped the subject. Kristine was a grown woman. She knew where Naomie stood, knew why Naomie refused to visit the house outside of the get-togethers or be with the family the way she used to.

  Dane knew it too and had been made to promise to keep his mouth shut since he, Stuart and Quincy met up on the odd occasion with a few others for guys’ night out—a strictly platonic affair that usually involved a strip club and an obscene amount of ones. The guys had put more than a few dancers through college—or whatever the excuse was now.

  Naomie saw a major blowup in Kristine and Stuart’s future. The fallout of which would probably end their marriage and the connection to their friends. Maybe the intuition of that coming event was the reason Naomie no longer felt any attraction to Kristine. She had at one point. She must have. Naomie would have never touched Kristine if she hadn’t been attracted to her and she remembered enjoying Kristine as much as the others.

 

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