by Radclyffe
“What? What am I still missing?” I asked.
“I sort of volunteered us to give him a demonstration.”
I stared, speechless. Partly because I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right, and partly because my clit got hard so fast every single synapse in my brain fired at once.
“What?” I asked again stupidly.
“I told him we’d show him what to do.”
“How?”
“Well,” Clare said, finally meeting my eyes. “I thought he could watch and I could…you know…explain what I was doing while I masturbated you.”
“You’re going to make me come while Gary watches.”
Clare looked away, almost shyly. I’d never seen her look shy before. She said, “Well, you could come if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t have to.” She rushed on as if to prevent me from saying anything else. “I just want to show him, you know, how to get started. He’s really clueless.”
The whole idea was nuts, totally nuts. That’s what I was saying in my head. But my clit had already jumped right to the start line, because the idea of Clare playing with it, with or without an audience, seemed completely okay. Really okay.
“And you’re not going to feel weird about this tomorrow?” I asked.
Clare frowned. “Why would I? It was my idea.” She grinned, anything but shy now. “And I’ve always thought you were hot.”
“Clare, you’re straight.”
“That doesn’t stop me from thinking you’re sexy.” She sat down next to me, her naked thigh touching my naked thigh, her bare shoulder against my bare shoulder. She leaned ever so slightly into me. “So what you do you think? Will you be weird tomorrow?”
She smelled like that special girl smell. Flowers and rain and sunshine. My clit needed attention in a big way now and she’d already volunteered. If she didn’t masturbate it, I was going to have to anyway. “I think if we don’t do it now, I’ll regret it forever.”
She kissed my cheek and jumped up. “Awesome.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me up. “Come on.”
I followed her down the hall to her bedroom as she called, “Gary, we’re ready.”
Clare had the biggest bedroom in the house, and she’d pushed a love seat into the alcove in front of a set of bay windows. She motioned me toward the sofa and I stood in front of it, waiting.
Gary bounced in, wearing baggy sweats and a sequined tee. Sometimes when I wasn’t really paying attention, I’d see him out of the corner of my eye and think, God, she’s really cute. Then I’d realize I was cruising my gay housemate.
“Hi,” I said.
“Oh, this is too cool,” he said, dragging over the stool that Clare used to reach things on the top shelf of her closet. He plunked himself down in front of the love seat and put his chin in his hands. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” I said and rolled my eyes. I glanced at Clare. “What now?”
“Why don’t you take off your boxers and sit down.”
I did, spreading them out on the sofa under me. Clare sat next to me and rested her hand lightly on my thigh. She was half turned toward me and her breasts brushed my arm. I kept my legs closed, and I wasn’t sure where to put my hand.
“Go ahead and put it on my leg. Get comfortable,” she said like she did this every day. I leaned back, one arm stretched out along the couch, my other hand resting just above her knee. Then Clare looked at Gary. “Your client is probably going to be wearing something that’ll be easy for you to get your hand into or under, or maybe she won’t be wearing anything at all. But don’t just jump on her. Let her get used to your hand on her skin.”
While she talked, Clare brushed her fingertips rhythmically up and down my thigh, moving closer and closer to the inside of my leg with each stroke. I watched her fingers move on my skin and tried not to think about Gary, hunkered down just a few feet away. The more she stroked, the wider I opened my legs so she could reach farther, go higher.
“I got it,” he said softly. “Don’t shoot for the goal right away. But how will I know when she’s ready for the next step?”
“Watch for the signals,” Clare said. She drew her fingertip all the way up to the crease at the top of my leg, then skimmed around the outside of my sex—up over and down, barely missing the base of my clit with her short, rounded fingernail. My hips lifted to meet her finger.
“There,” Clare announced with satisfaction. “You see her legs tense, her butt lift? She wants more.”
I tried not to groan, because hearing her talk about it was getting me majorly excited.
“Where?” Gary asked eagerly. “Where do I touch her first?”
“Maybe we need just a little bit of an anatomy lesson.” Clare leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Are you okay if I show him what you look like?”
My harsh breathing sounded loud in the still room. I gripped the top of the sofa with my free hand, the one that wasn’t on Clare’s leg, and dug my fingers into the worn fabric. Still looking down at her fingers just a few inches from my clit, I said, “Go ahead.”
Clare placed two fingers at the top of my sex, on either side of my clit, then spread her fingers, pulling up a little at the same time, opening me and drawing the hood back to expose the head of my clit. The air felt cool, and sweet as a kiss, and I knew I was wet. Clare made a little sound of appreciation in the back of her throat.
“Huh,” Gary murmured. “I didn’t think it would be so big.”
“She’s excited. That’s why her clitoris is swollen and dark red like that.” Clare’s voice was husky and low. “Your client’s probably going to be just like this right away, too, because she’s going to know what you’re going to do, and she’s probably been thinking about it all day.”
Clare pressed the shaft of my clitoris with one finger and my hips jerked again. She laughed and I felt her leg shake next to mine. “She’s probably not going to be quite this big, though.”
“Hey, M,” Gary said seriously. “How does it feel? I mean, are you pretty turned on already?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “It feels great. Getting me hot.”
“Like how hot?”
“Like I want her to make me come.”
“Okay,” Clare said a little breathlessly. “Now here’s where you’re going to have to experiment a little, Gare, because every girl is different. How she likes to get off, I mean. Some like it fast and light, others slow and hard, others fast and hard. But everyone likes to be teased for a while first.” She bumped my shoulder with hers. “Right?”
“Uh-huh. Teasing is good.” I didn’t think I should tell her that all I really wanted her to do was work me over good and fast right now, because screw foreplay, I just wanted to come. I wasn’t sure if Gary could see it, but she had to feel it. My clit jumped every time my heart beat.
“I’m guessing,” Clare said, continuing to keep me exposed with one hand, “that she’ll like this.”
Then she gripped my clit between her thumb and index finger, way down at the base, and squeezed while stroking all the way up to the end, dragging the hood with her. Up and down, up and down, slow and steady. I couldn’t look away from her fingers milking me, forcing the blood to fill my clit.
“Wow,” Gary whispered. “It’s getting purple.”
“Is that good?” Clare whispered, her mouth almost against my neck. Her breath blew quickly across my damp skin, short fast bursts of warm air. “Is it what you like?”
I pulled my gaze away from her fingers pulling my clit and turned my head to meet her eyes. They were soft, the pupils flickering. Her lips were parted, pink and moist. “Unbelievable.” I imagined her lips closing around my clit.
Clare gasped. “Oh my God, you just got really really hard. What just happened?”
“I thought about you sucking me,” I whispered too low for Gary to catch it.
She swayed toward me, and for a second, I thought she was going to kiss me, but she blinked and straightened. Looking down into my lap, she said, “Hold yourself open for me.”
I made a grab for my clit and forked my fingers wide on either side. I couldn’t help it. I vibrated it a little and my legs danced. “Oh fuck.”
“None of that,” Clare chided, and she dipped one finger low between my lips, pulled the slick come up and over my clit, and went back to stroking. The hood slid back and forth over the wet head, and it felt like she was licking it. I whined and she picked up speed. When she spoke, her throat sounded dry. “Can you see that, Gary?”
“Yeah. It’s really standing up. Does that mean she’s gonna come?”
“Are you?” Clare asked. “Are you going to come if I keep doing this?”
“Won’t be long,” I croaked. “If you don’t stop soon.”
Clare eased up on my clit and slowed her strokes. I hung on the edge, panting. She lightly traced the edges of my lips, the top of my shaft, the underside of my clit. Not hard enough or fast enough to make me come.
“God, it feels so good,” I moaned, closing my fingers down on it while she caressed me. Clare’s fingertip glistened. Round and round my clit. “God, Clare.”
Gently, she kissed my cheek, the way she had earlier in the hall, moved my hand off my clit, and let me go. “You get the idea, right, Gary?”
I sagged back, my stomach cramping, my clit pumping just short of orgasm.
“What about, you know, going inside?” he asked.
“If she wants you to, she’ll show you where and how.” Clare drew back, her hand on my thigh now. She massaged the trembling muscles. “Let’s give this one a couple minutes to catch her breath, okay?”
Gary jumped up. “Right. Okay. Hey, thanks.” He hurried toward the door, then turned back at the last minute and smirked at me. “You are going to jerk off, aren’t you? Because you’ve got a wicked case of blue balls.”
“Not anatomically correct,” I muttered, standing on shaky legs with my boxers clenched in my hand. I knew my clit was poking straight out from my body and that they could probably see it. “But close enough.”
“Two minutes to blast-off!” Gary called as he headed into the hall.
“One minute.” I bent to pull on my boxers.
Clare gripped my forearm. “Don’t put those on just yet.” Then she followed Gary to the door, closed it, and turned the lock. From across the room, she met my gaze. “Sit down again.”
“I gotta go, Clare.” I had to get to my room so I could masturbate. I couldn’t think of anything else. I tried to step around her, but she caught my arm.
“You are a really good sport,” Clare said, pushing me back toward the couch. My knees hit and I fell onto it.
I didn’t know what to say. You’ve got amazing hands. You made me so hard I can’t stand it. Please, just let me go so I can jerk off.
“Are you okay?” Clare knelt and pushed my legs apart. She made a purring sound and framed my sex with her hands, opening it again. “Look at you. God, you’re beautiful.”
My clit jerked rapidly up and down. “I need to go.”
“You were close a couple of times, weren’t you.”
“I really need to go now.”
“So you can masturbate?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I have to.”
“I want to do it.” She pressed both thumbs on either side of my clit and rocked it back and forth.
“You don’t have to.” Tears leaked from my eyes, I needed to come so bad. “But I really need to…” She kissed it. One quick feather-light kiss. “Oh fuck!”
“There you go,” she whispered. “You just got totally hard again. That felt good, didn’t it?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Tell me what to do to make you come.”
I stared helplessly at my clit sticking up between her thumbs. “Stroke it between your fingers like you did earlier.”
She did. “Fast enough?”
I bobbed my head, my mouth open, my ass clenching and releasing. My clit swelled.
“You feel like you’re going to come. Are you?”
“A little faster,” I gasped, bending forward so I could watch her fingers make me come. “Up and down. A little faster. Just like that. You’ll make me come if you keep doing that.”
“I’m not stopping,” Clare said fiercely. “I want you to come so bad.” She looked up, her eyes glassy. “So bad, baby. Please.”
I couldn’t help myself. “I’m going to come. Right. Fucking. Now.”
“Oh,” she cried, losing her rhythm but it didn’t matter. I was already going off. “I can feel it.”
I tried to keep my eyes open, but the first wave hit me so hard I flopped backward, blind. I knew I was making pathetic whimpering sounds, but I couldn’t stop those either. Then I heard Clare give a sharp little yelp of surprise and I managed to open my eyes. Her head was thrown back, and her hand whipped between her legs. Seeing her coming set me off again.
I wasn’t aware of anything much after that until I realized I was lying on the sofa with Clare in my arms. Her head was tucked under my chin and she was murmuring softly, little sounds of pleasure and contentment. I stroked her hair.
“You okay?” I asked
“That was amazing.” She kissed my collarbone. “You’re really beautiful when you come.”
I laughed. “So are you.”
She pushed herself up, brushing strands of hair away from her face with one hand. “So if Gary needs pointers on oral sex, are you up for another lesson?”
“Absolutely.” I skimmed my finger over her lips and she kissed the tip. “But can I be the teacher next time?”
“It’s an advanced course. We might have to run double sessions.”
“Then maybe we should work on the syllabus, just to be sure we’re ready.”
Clare straddled my chest and twitched her panties to one side. She was wet and full. “Lesson two.”
Character Study
“Hi, love, what are you doing at work so early?” Hayden Palmer asked.
“Reading through the slush pile.” Auden set aside the manuscript she’d been reading and swiveled her chair to look out the window behind her desk. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour, and Rittenhouse Square, the historic park below her office building, was illuminated by streetlights on wrought-iron poles set around its two square block perimeter. She imagined it had looked the same for two hundred years. The Palmer building was at least that old, and the publishing house that bore her lover’s name had been creating books for all that time. And now she was the senior editor. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I called the house and you didn’t answer,” Hays said.
“It’s the middle of the night where you are, darling. What are you doing awake?”
“The signing went late and I had too much coffee at the reception.”
“But you’re feeling all right?” Even after five years of remission, Auden still worried. In the midst of a busy day, she’d pass Hays’s office and glance in to see her behind her desk, her sleeves rolled up, one trousered leg crossed over the other, the phone in one hand and an elegant arm draped over the chair. Auden would catch her breath at how beautiful she was. How vibrant and strong and alive. And for just an instant, she’d remember the endless days and countless sleepless nights when they hadn’t been sure if Hays would ever leave the hospital. For those few seconds, her heart would break all over again. “Hays?”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m fine. As fine as I can be in the middle of a book tour.”
“You’re not overdoing? This is the longest tour you’ve done in a while. Six cities in three weeks and still another week to go.”
“Believe me, I know how long it’s been. That’s why I’m calling. I’m not tired and I’m not sick. I miss you.” Hays’s voice dropped. “A lot. And it doesn’t help that Gayle decided to come with Thane on the tour.”
Auden laughed. “Are they misbehaving?”
“When aren’t they? You’d think they’d just met.” Hays sighed. “It’s not that I’d exactly object to
watching, but somehow when it’s your best friend…”
“I should have come with you.”
“The timing is bad. Right before the holiday season, one of us needs to be sure production stays on schedule.”
“Are you getting any writing done?” Hays was a talented publisher, but her passion was for writing. When she was on the road this long, she often couldn’t find time to write, and that was never good for her.
“I just put in a couple of hours.”
“Good.” Auden envisioned Hays working at the desk in the hotel room, her dark hair disheveled, her pale elegant features remote as she slipped into another world. Auden loved to watch Hays transform into Rune Dyre, the author. Still hers, but a darker, more dangerous version of Hays. “What did Rune wear to the signing tonight?”
“Well, it is San Francisco and I was reading erotica.” Hays laughed. “Black jeans, boots, and a black silk shirt.”
“How many buttons did you leave open?”
“On my pants or my shirt?”
Auden caught her breath, imagining the women watching Rune, dark and sexy and mysterious, while she read to them in her deep, sensuous voice. While she seduced them with scenes of women claiming, taking, pleasuring other women. Some of the women listening must fantasize about her, how could they not. Auden knew Rune had more than a few offers for company when she wasn’t around, and even when she was. But Rune was hers, just as Hays was. “What have you been writing?”
“Not much. Trying to get a feel for the new book.”
“The erotic romance?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Hays sounded distracted. “Working on a few scenes. Still can’t get a grasp on the character.”
“Have you been writing sex?”
“Bits and pieces. Hoping I’d find her that way.”
“Bits and pieces. For how long?”
Hays hesitated. “A few hours.”
“Is that why you can’t sleep?” Hays always needed to make love after she’d been immersed in sex for hours like that. She’d come to Auden aroused, wound tight, already wet, already distended and tense. Sometimes she’d orgasm the instant Auden caressed her clitoris. Sometimes she’d want to make love to Auden, devouring her as if starved. Making her come over and over until they were both exhausted.
