Tied Up In Knots

by Antonia Adams

  Lisa began to howl laughter and she said, ‘Oh come in, please and don’t worry about that list.’

  The couple moved inside the apartment and Lisa waved a hand at the book-covered couch, realised it was covered with books and shoved a space clean for the two before adding, ‘That’s just Nelda down in 4-C. She makes up all kinds of lists and everything else, she drives us all crazy with them. Just run like hell when you see her coming and stand very still and say yes ma’am over and over again when she corners you in the lobby and you’ll be fine. She’s a bit loose in the head but harmless.’

  ‘I’m Chrissie and that’s Lisa, by the way,’ Chrissie said as she sat and silently telegraphed Lisa to morph into a hostess, ‘Would you like some wine or maybe tea, coffee?’

  ‘I’m Jo,’ the butch said and held out one strong solid hand. The instant that flesh made contact with Chrissie’s a warm tingle flooded her crotch, ‘This is Marie, we’d love some wine.’

  Lisa had seen Chrissie’s interest and her own was piqued. She and Chrissie were both femmes who loved pretty dresses, frilly underwear and keeping their blonde hair long. Where Chrissie sometimes liked butches to fuck her willing and lushly curved body Lisa preferred femmes that matched her slim height and the one who had just moved in next door most certainly did. She kept sneaking peeks at the four inch stilettos on Marie’s slender and pretty feet, at the hem of the cute white dress that kept creeping up those thin flat thighs and she knew Chrissie well enough to know Jo’s well tended leather jacket and black jeans had her salivating. She went to the kitchen and took out a bottle of deeply red wine, four glasses and a corkscrew. She put them on a large tray then added small plates of washed seedless grapes, a hunk of soft and delectable Brie, rich wheat crackers and a small array of deli meats sliced so thin they were nearly transparent.

  In the living room Chrissie had crept noticeably closer to Jo and Jo had not moved away, in fact she had leaned in. Lisa took that in and the relaxed way Marie leaned against the sofa cushions, watching the two of them with a smile playing along the corners of her mouth and she knew without a doubt that the very boring afternoon was about to get very un-boring.

  She poured wine and they all helped themselves to the small meal, chewing slowly, watching each other with hooded and lust filled eyes. Jo absently stroked Marie’s upper thigh and Marie leaned very close to Lisa’s ear to ask her questions about the neighbourhood in general.

  Lisa was a little tipsy but not drunk, she knew Chrissie would punish her for behaving badly so she sipped slowly at her wine, letting it warm her belly while her eyes wandered the expanses of creamy flesh that Marie revealed in her constantly creeping-higher dress. Chrissie watched Jo with the same avarice.

  ‘So is there a ... uh ... perhaps a good kink scene around here?’

  At Marie’s question Chrissie’s eyes sharpened. ‘Well, we belong to the local scene,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m a switch and Lisa is a submissive. We play at the dungeon over on the east side because it’s queer friendly and we can swap partners there. Are you two ... monogamous?’ She about held her breath after that question left her mouth.

  ‘Not at all,’ Jo said calmly and the heat that had been building in the room got hotter, the air shimmered with it. Lisa could feel her pussy growing slippery with desire and she wished Chrissie would just make the move or let her do it. ‘Are the two of you?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  The silence spun out for a moment and then Marie, her voice filled with mischief, asked, ‘so what are you two doing for the rest of the afternoon?’

  ‘You two,’ Chrissie replied. ‘Now the question is – who gets who?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s much of a question,’ Jo smiled. ‘But we have tons of fun toys and no room in our place. Would you be willing to host us?’

  ‘I’ll get our toy bag, you go get yours,’ Lisa said and leapt to her feet.

  Marie was perched in a chair, her legs had been spread over the arms and lashed open so the pink meat of her shaved smooth cunt was exposed. Her wrists had been cuffed and her arms were extended over her head. The black silk rope attached to the cuffs had been pulled through a hook, which held a potted fern in other circumstances. Her tits were forced out and forward, her belly in, and her shoulders were trembling with strain and excitement as Lisa was forced to strip.

  ‘I said take those fucking panties off,’ Jo said and Lisa whimpered but she did it, her satiny skin gleaming in the cold light filtering through the blinds. Chrissie knelt on the floor, her clothes long since discarded and her eyes fastened to the sight of Marie’s body as it strained against the bondage. To say it was lovely was an understatement. She had sweetly curved hips, a high and perky little ass, long legs and her breasts, while small, were perfectly formed and capped in pink nipples that begged to be sucked.

  Jo stood proudly straddle legged, her dangerously muscular angles drawing the eye to the enormous cock she wore in a black leather harness. Chrissie wanted to simply shove her face on to that cock and suck it till she made Jo come but if there was ever a time to be a good girl this was it. It was rare for her to be able to switch and she always enjoyed it. Right then her pussy was so wet it dripped cold and slick fluids down her inner thighs. She rubbed her legs together, enjoying the sensation, and a moan broke from her throat when Lisa was told to get on her knees in front of Marie.

  Jo positioned Lisa first. She put the small raised square of plastic that held a large upright cock between the woman’s thighs then shoved her down onto it. Lisa sobbed out a ‘yes’ as her pussy expanded and took that dick inside and she squeezed her thigh muscles to intensify the pleasure that was already overtaking her.

  ‘Eat her pussy,’ Jo ordered, ‘And understand this, the way you treat my girl is how I’m going to treat yours. Fuck her good and Chrissie will get fucked good. Make her come and Chrissie will get to come. And so will you. But if you fuck this up nobody comes, do you understand me?’

  A bolt of exquisite fear and lust jolted through Lisa at those words. ‘Yes, I understand,’ she whimpered and bent her face to the glistening wet pussy in front of her. Her tongue lapped at it, opened the labia and licked the soft folds. She took her time, letting her mouth explore every inch of the flesh. She tasted it, licking creamy drops of come that were beading up at the hood away and grunting with satisfaction when more came her way.

  Chrissie whimpered and moaned as her mouth was suddenly filled with long inches of thick cock, she gagged and gasped for air but didn’t fight, she had long since learned how to survive a good face fucking and she meant to prove it. Jo arched her hips, slamming the cock into her wet and willing mouth. Chrissie gave a long cry of surrender as hard hands tangled into her hair and pulled her closer, as hips bucked into her face and she was forced to open her mouth wider, to take every inch as far and deeply as she could. The need to come built inside her, her tits grew wet and slick with sweat and still Lisa teased and tormented Marie, taking her to the brink of an orgasm as she slowly rode the cock inside her own cunt. Chrissie could not keep her eyes off the sight of that tongue licking that pussy, the sight of flesh meeting flesh making her groan and whimper as she suckled more furiously at the dick between her lips.

  ‘Oh fuck!’ Marie sobbed and her back arched out as an orgasm came roaring out of her. Come squirted in gooey white pulses from her pussy, dripped across Lisa’s cheeks, ran down her throat and she licked at it with the starved delicacy of a cat, lapping and sucking and catching every drop while Marie strained and begged for more.

  ‘Stop,’ Jo ordered and shoved Chrissie to one side. She fell sideways and excitement burst through her, it became amplified when she saw Jo reach for the face dildo, an ingenious little device that was strapped around a hapless wearer’s face and held in place by buckles. Jo yanked Lisa’s head back and attached the dildo to her face. ‘Now we are going to fuck. I am going to fuck Chrissie just as hard and deep and good as you put that cock in that hole in front of you. If you make her come I will
make sure you get a reward. But if you don’t ...’

  Chrissie crawled closer. She needed to see what was happening; Jo took advantage of the situation by positioning herself behind Chrissie, spreading her ass cheeks wide and sliding two fingers into her hot, wet pussy. She was very pleased when those fingers came back out covered in heated oil, she put the fingers in her mouth and sucked on them, savouring the taste of Chrissie’s cunt while Lisa began to slowly move her face closer to the dripping hole, positioning herself so she could look over at her lover’s face as she began to move that cock in and out of Marie’s cunt.

  ‘Tight isn’t she?’ Jo asked and then she rammed her cock into Chrissie. Chrissie screamed and her hips flailed at the air but Jo would not be pulled in, she gave Chrissie three short and hard slaps on her ass that made her instantly stop moving. ‘Fuck her,’ Jo said, ‘If you want Chrissie to come make her come.’

  ‘Make her come dammit!’ Chrissie yelled. Her eyes watched with greed as the cock strapped to Lisa’s face drove deeply into the thick lipped pussy that was so helpless against it and she whimpered as an answering thrust was echoed inside her own cunt.

  The room was filled with the sounds of fucking. Cries and pleading words banged against the walls as Marie gave into the cock filling her cunt, watching Jo’s face closely to see when her orgasm was impending. Lisa was helpless against the orgasm spurting across the cock she was riding. The sensation of being used so harshly, of being made to service another so her lover could get pleasure caused her to fall deeply into sub space and she came again and again as Chrissie grabbed her hair in both hands and viciously slammed her face against Marie’s cunt. The sound of cock slapping into pussy was very loud. Jo arched her ass and beat her cock harder into Chrissie, enjoying the sight of pussy opening around that cock, swallowing it and giving it back so reluctantly.

  ‘I want to come!’ Chrissie wailed and Jo laughed, ‘Tell your girl to make mine come then, make her come good too dammit.’

  ‘Make her come, dammit, Lisa, right now, you make her come!’

  Lisa did not need the order, she knew that Chrissie needed to come and she shoved the cock deeper into Marie’s come-streaked cunt, then used her fingers to manipulate her swollen and throbbing clit.

  Marie felt the orgasm jolting out of her and she began to sob as come leaked and ran down her thighs, pooled into the chair below her and Jo fucked the woman in front of her even faster and harder. She fucked her so hard that Chrissie was being yanked back and forth, her body totally at one with the cock being given to it. Her pussy clenched, opened, clenched and opened. Her mouth opened and a long desperate growl rumbled up as she felt the friction crest into an explosive orgasm that sent her flailing against Jo’s wide and sturdy hips while tears rolled down her cheeks and her legs shook with exhaustion. Jo came, her come pouring into the leather of the harness and she fell forward, collapsing onto Chrissie’s smooth warm back.

  For a long few minutes there was only the sound of heavy breathing and little sighs and whimpers as the last aftershocks of orgasms rippled through their bodies. Eventually they stirred and began sorting out the tangle of arms, legs and cocks. Toys were cleaned and stowed and Jo and Marie found their clothes.

  At the door Marie turned to Lisa with an impish grin and said, ‘I was afraid we would hate our new neighbours,’ and the foursome began to giggle.

  ‘We have to do it again,’ Chrissie said and Jo agreed. Chrissie and Lisa stood in their wrecked come-spattered living room surveying the wreckage of a long Sunday afternoon and then Chrissie said, ‘ Look, it’s finally stopped raining.’

  Lisa hugged her, enjoying the feel of their skin meeting and melding together. She brushed a kiss across Chrissie’s cute little button nose and said,’ let’s go out, honey.’

  ‘Shower first?’

  ‘Might be a good idea.’ Lisa’s pretty blue eyes sparkled and her mouth trembled with suppressed laughter.

  ‘The only thing better than having good neighbours is having a good woman who understands you,’ Chrissie said, and Lisa nuzzled her neck for a minute then kissed her cheek.

  ‘Nothing better than being understood,’ she said, ‘I totally agree.’

  That Girl!

  by Landon Dixon

  The flight from LA was long, the drive from Fargo even longer. But, finally, I located the nursing home on a tree-lined street in Merricourt, North Dakota. And then I found “Buffalo” Bob Simmons himself, 102 years old and still frisky as hell.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you about … “That Girl”,’ I said, sitting across from the old man in the sunlit recreation room.

  His head jerked away from the nurse’s aide bent over a fellow resident, his eyes off the woman’s large, round buttocks stretching out her tan skirt, and focused on me. ‘That Girl!’ he murmured, cornflower-blue eyes shining. ‘You know, the guys on the team gave me the nickname “Buffalo” Bob, because I came from a hick town in North Dakota, and they all thought buffalos still roamed the Great Plains back in the 20s. But she always called me “Buff”. I was her biggest fan.’

  I punched on my recorder, poised pen over notepad. ‘You’re the last surviving member of that 1927 college football team – the “Howlin’ Pack”, as you were known. And there’ve always been rumours about the team and “That Girl”, star of silent cinema. So, I’m trying to find out once and for all, before it’s too late: were the rumours true? Did you and the team and she engage in wild orgies and …?’

  ‘Fitz called her the hottest jazz baby of them all. And Dot Parker said she didn’t have “That”, she had “Those” – upstairs and down.’

  Bob Simmons’ eyes grew misty. ‘It was the age of ballyhoo,’ he went on. ‘America was on the greatest, gaudiest spree in history, nowhere more so than in Tinseltown. And since there were no pro football teams for the Hollywood crowd to follow, they came to our games …’

  ‘Hey, Bob, is that who I think it is?’

  We were on the field, warming up before our second home game in front of 76,000 fans, and I looked towards where our star halfback, “Touchdown” Tommy Lockerton, was pointing. ‘Ho-lee!’ I gulped, hardly believing my eyes. ‘That’s-that’s Sara Button!’

  I’d just seen her in Children of Paradise that summer, and now there she was in-person, the greatest silent film star of them all, standing on the sidelines watching us warm up. Her hourglass figure was poured into a red jumpsuit, her smooth, shapely arms and legs bare, her wild mop of orange-red hair blowing about her heart-shaped face in the warm October breeze, a smile on her bright red Cupid’s bow lips.

  Tommy elbowed me in the ribs. ‘Remember to keep your eyes on your blocks, big guy,’ he said, only half-jokingly.

  I kept my eyes on my blocks, all right, clearing the way for Tommy to score three touchdowns, all the time knowing that Hollywood’s first authentic sex symbol was watching our every move. We easily rolled up our second straight win of the season. But the even bigger thrill came later, when Sara Button bounced into our locker room after the game to congratulate us all.

  We were a young, innocent bunch, and a lady in the locker room had us grabbing for towels, to cover up. ‘Where’ve you boys been all my life?’ she cracked, grinning and smacking her gum, her dark doll’s eyes travelling all over us, her apoplectic manager trying to drag her back outside.

  ‘Everyone’s invited to my place for a victory party,’ she announced. Then she fluttered her long, dark lashes at me, looking directly at my towel. ‘No bedroom scene or nothing, you understand. Just food and dance and fun, fun, fun!’

  We all crammed into a couple of flivvers and roared out to Sara’s house in Beverly Hills, singing our fight song at the top of our lungs all the way there. And what a spread it was – the house and the buffet table! A mansion with huge green lawns and surgically-trimmed shrubs, a teardrop swimming pool in back, the “training tables” inside loaded with all kinds of food and drink and smokes. And at the centre of it all was That Girl, dancing and laughing and flyin
g around with a mad gaiety that perfectly encapsulated the Roaring 20s, her Panatrope record player blaring out Bix Beiderbecke and the King of Jazz.

  There were plenty of other good-looking dishes there, too, some famous movie stars, some not. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Sara. She had heaping helpings of both T and A, but being a buttman from back in the day when my second grade teacher had bent over to pick up a paper airplane I’d tossed, my eyes were usually glued to her gorgeous glutes. She was just a little thing, maybe 5’2’ or so, but her bottom was round and plush and ample, and just about falling out on either side of that tight jumpsuit of hers.

  The party went on and on, well past our curfew. But I didn’t. I was out like a klieg light after my fourth glass of bathtub gin, woke up in the early dawn on the strangest bed in the strangest room I’d ever been in. I was flat on my back, but I was looking at myself. Because there were mirrors in the canopy of the bed, a giant grinning Buddha squatting on the baseboard, Oriental fans and paintings covering the walls of the room, incense burning somewhere.

  I heard giggling, and I turned my bleary eyes to the left. And almost had them pop right out of my head.

  Sara Button was lying on the bed next to me, in the arms of another woman! Both babes were naked, and they were kissing each other, passionately and roughly like men kiss women, their pink tongues sliding out and entwining.

  I don’t know if Sara saw that my eyes were open or not, but she sat up on top of the other woman and arched her back and ran her fingers through her hair. Giving me a nice clear view of her tits, hanging huge and heavy off her small frame, nipples shining red as her mussed-up hair, body blazing white in the early-morning sun.

  I swallowed, as quietly as I physically could. I was in Sara’s secret Oriental Room – her “loving room”, as she called it – watching the other woman’s hands travel up Sara’s smooth, glowing body and cup her firm, ripe melons, squeeze them. Sara mewled like a kitten, grasping the other woman’s hands clutching and kneading her tits, fingering Sara’s swollen nipples. Just out of the wheat fields and fallen off the hay truck, I’d never seen anything like it before – two hotsy-totsies making love to one another.