Cruising the Strip

by Radclyffe

  Farrah struggled to find her voice as Barrett nuzzled at her other ear.

  “I’m a visual person,” Racie went on. “When she’s making love to me I can’t watch her the same way. So I watch her with other women and it’s incredible. I get to enjoy all her beautiful strength, I get to see every nuance of her body when she comes, and I still get to be in her bed, too. I get it all.”

  “You dressed me for her.” Farrah didn’t resist the firm glide of Barrett’s thigh against her very wet cunt.

  Racie’s tongue flicked her earlobe as Barrett slid slowly to her knees. “No, I dressed you so you’d look like the hot, sensual woman you are. And I dressed you for me. She would just as soon we were naked.”

  The heat of Barrett’s mouth pressing through the fabric of the dress nearly buckled Farrah’s knees. Racie groaned in her ear and one elegant, long-fingered hand caressed Farrah’s bare shoulder, then moved to her breast.

  “Barrett,” Farrah managed to moan. Her head said it was too much, too sudden, but her body had decided that making up for lost time was imperative. She arched harder against Barrett’s mouth as Racie pulled the dress downward to bare Farrah’s breasts.

  “Perfect,” Racie breathed. Her hand came back to caress and tease Farrah’s nipples while Barrett seemed intent on biting through Farrah’s dress.

  Racie leaned away just enough to look down at Barrett. Farrah saw the ardent appreciation in Racie’s eyes at the sight of her lover, abandoned in passion. With a fluid motion, Racie pulled her tank top over her head, leaving low-rider jeans clasped around her narrow hips. With deliberate quickness, she wound her fingers into Barrett’s thick hair and pulled her away from Farrah—pulled her away to turn her head and bring her mouth to the crotch of the jeans.

  “That’s right, baby.” Racie went up on her tiptoes as she rubbed herself on Barrett’s mouth. “Two women to satisfy tonight.”

  Farrah realized she’d never said yes, but who was she kidding? She was so full and slippery she could feel wetness trickling down her thighs.

  Barrett reared back with a deep groan. She scrambled to her feet then kissed Racie on the mouth, hard. In the next moment, she swept Farrah into her arms, carried her to the living room, and finally spread her out on the round sofa.

  It was like a stage, Farrah thought, pleasing to Racie’s eye. The drama wasn’t lost on her, either. Barrett was a study in lines and angles, Racie in dark planes and muscle. She added pale curves. Barrett circled the sofa to caress first Farrah’s calves, then her shoulders.

  Watching Barrett prowl around her made Farrah dizzy. It took her a moment to realize that the hands pushing her dress out of the way were Racie’s. Barrett circled the sofa again, to cup the back of Racie’s head and guide her into Farrah’s cunt.

  “Does that feel good?” Barrett leaned over to brush her lips over Farrah’s panting mouth. “You’re so beautiful to watch. So is she.”

  The sinuous tongue was stroking places only Farrah’s fingers had touched for years. All the build up, all the fantasizing had her on the edge of climax within seconds. She jerked against Racie’s mouth when Barrett tugged on her nipples. Her restraint was gone; there was no reason to deny what she wanted. She shredded the lie of Farrah Fotheringay in her mind and grabbed Barrett by the waist of her pants.

  “Please,” she said. “You don’t know how long it’s been, please.”

  Barrett stripped, and she was gorgeous, a body like a god that Farrah appreciated for the few seconds it took to pull Barrett onto the sofa. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.

  Barrett covered her lips in a heated rush, and Farrah pushed her tongue hard into the eager, welcoming mouth, realizing as she did so that she was matching the motion of Racie’s tongue doing the same thing to Farrah’s cunt.

  “Damn,” Barrett said against Farrah’s lips. “Damn, it’s as good as I thought it would be.”

  “Kiss me again.” Farrah lost herself in Barrett’s mouth while the pleasure between her legs grew unbearable. She bucked against Racie and Barrett’s grip on her tightened.

  “That’s right, that’s right, come for her.”

  Farrah struggled not to burst into tears. Racie’s mouth felt that wonderful, her tongue that intense.

  Barrett shifted to hold Farrah in place as she writhed in response to Racie. Farrah turned her head to find one erect nipple. She bit down, then sucked it into her mouth, drunk on Barrett’s earthy groan blending with Racie’s appreciative gasps. The two of them had unleashed her. She shoved her hand between Barrett’s legs.

  Barrett’s elbows buckled as she pushed her cunt against Farrah’s fingers. “Damn, woman, let me catch my breath.”

  “No,” Farrah said. She curved her fingers, opening Barrett. “If you thought I would be a passive plaything, you were wrong.”

  Racie finally raised her head from between Farrah’s thighs. “Yes, just like that. Fuck her. Just do it. That’s how she likes it.”

  Barrett made a choked noise as Farrah pushed roughly inside her.

  “Get me out of this dress,” Farrah said to Racie, even as she twisted around to get a better angle. Racie fiddled with the zipper, then pulled the dress off, discarding her own jeans as well.

  “You’re so gorgeous, baby.” Racie ran her hands over Barrett’s body. “You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

  Barrett nodded desperately.

  Farrah whispered, “Please open your eyes.”

  Barrett’s gaze was unfocused when she did as Farrah asked. The just-a-bit-dangerous woman had disappeared, leaving a vulnerable one behind.

  “It’s okay,” Farrah said. “We’ve got you.” She rolled to Barrett’s side, her hand sliding even deeper. With her other arm she pulled Barrett close, cradling her.

  “I know how long you’ve wanted her,” Racie said. “It’s okay, baby. God, I know you’re this way with me, but I’ve never been able to watch you with a strong femme before. You’re so strong, too, Barrett, honey…I love the way your back arches. It’s okay, you can let go with her.”

  Barrett’s groan was long and loud as Racie draped herself along her back.

  Farrah bit Barrett’s lower lip. “Do you like being a femme sandwich?”

  After an explosive exhale, Barrett said between gritted teeth, “Fuck, yes.”

  Farrah no longer questioned if she ought to be enjoying herself, she only knew that she was. Racie’s fingers were playing near where her own were plunging in and out of Barrett, then Racie replaced her, reaching in from behind, and Farrah’s slick touch concentrated on Barrett’s rock hard clit.

  Barrett panted into Farrah’s shoulder, near climax but able to laugh between gasps for breath. “How did I get to be in the middle?”

  “We put you there, baby.” Racie kissed the back of Barrett’s neck.

  “Because we want to take turns fucking you.” Farrah licked the notch in Barrett’s collarbone.

  With a guttural cry, Barrett jerked helplessly between them. When she finally went limp, her face was buried between Farrah’s breasts.

  “That’s not exactly what I thought would happen first,” she muttered.

  “I’m pleased,” Racie said. She looked at Farrah over Barrett’s head.

  “So am I.” Farrah inclined her head and Racie leaned toward her so their lips could meet. Soft, sensuous, delicious. “And you can take my picture anytime.”

  Racie laughed into their kiss, then ended it by licking Farrah’s lips. Barrett stretched in between them, her arms slipping around Farrah’s waist.

  “It feels wonderful to hold you like this at last,” she said.

  Farrah couldn’t help it—she glanced at Racie to make sure it was okay.

  Racie smiled reassuringly. “You don’t put wild things in cages, and that’s how I’ve managed to hold on to her.”

  “And vice versa,” Barrett murmured.

  “I think that means I’m just happy to be out of my cage,” Farrah said. “That I’m with two incredible women is like frosting on t
he cake.”

  Racie kissed her again, at first with a smile, but it faded. “She’s not the only one who has wanted to hold you. We read your books together. You talk about women, how they feel, the way that Barrett does. She does amazing things to me and I’m thinking you will as well.”

  Farrah shivered, and a luxurious feeling of letting go of all pretense washed over her. She melted into Barrett’s embrace, her head half resting on Racie’s shoulder. Tomorrow was a long way away. For tonight, she felt free.

  Lucky 7

  by Karin Kallmaker

  “Fnally!” Tess threw her arms around Brandy the moment the hotel room door was closed. “We’re on a real vacation, and together!”

  Brandy tackled Tess and they landed on the bed with a delightful mashing of breasts and thighs.

  After a long, delicious kiss, Tess stretched out in Brandy’s arms. “What do you want to do first?”

  “I thought I was making that clear,” Brandy said. “Am I losing my touch or something?”

  Tess bit the tip of one of Brandy’s fingers. “Later.”

  “Why not now and then later?”

  “Because later I won’t be distracted by thoughts of blackjack and poker because I’ll have played some by later.”

  Brandy laughed. “Okay, I see where I am in your priorities.” Later was better, anyway. She had a little surprise for her lover.

  *

  Happily getting into the groove of Las Vegas, Brandy returned from the video poker machines to find Tess exactly where she had left her, frowning over her blackjack cards. The dealer was a gorgeous black woman who was either a dyke or just really fond of women, because Tess’s cleavage was getting plenty of attention. Well, someone would have to be dead and buried not to notice Tess. There were actually an amazing number of really beautiful women in the casino, but none held a candle to Tess.

  “Hit me,” Tess said. She gasped as the card came down. “Twenty-one!”

  The dealer paid her off as Tess backed away from the table. “Taking the money and running?”

  “I’ve just paid for our vacation.” Tess flipped a chip back to the dealer. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you.” The dealer pocketed the chip with a wink and Tess dragged Brandy across the casino to the cashier. “Let’s get the cash before I change my mind. I’m lucky tonight.”

  And you’re going to get lucky, Brandy wanted to say, but that would be a cheap joke and she was trying to be more subtle these days. They were now gainfully employed tour guides with the most successful lesbian tour group. Though their clientele could appreciate the occasional really bawdy joke, she was trying to learn some restraint.

  “What shall we do for dinner?”

  Tess turned from the cashier with a fistful of twenties. “Well, whatever it is, dinner’s on me.”

  A group of fast-moving women in sensible shoes jostled Brandy into Tess, not that Brandy minded. “I heard it was an open bar,” one said to the others, and if anything, their speed increased.

  “How about dinner in that dark little place on the mezzanine?”

  “Sounds delightful,” Tess said. They were on the elevator, holding hands, when she added, “You’ve got quite the cat in the cream look.”

  Brandy shrugged, hoping she looked debonair and mysterious.

  “Okay.” Tess caught one of the male passengers looking at them. She gave up one of her mega-wattage smiles. “I’m going to get lucky tonight.”

  The women behind them spluttered with laughter. Brandy glanced over her shoulder—oh, dykes if they were a day old, and they were. One was no taller than she was, which was welcome, and the other was yet another gorgeous creature, tall and lithe, and about as well endowed as Tess. She gave the short one a solidarity wink, as they were both unquestionably lucky dogs.

  The woman winked back as if to say, “Yeah, we both married up, didn’t we?”

  “Our floor, Marian.” With a smile at them both, the taller woman pulled her girlfriend after her into the corridor. “If you’re done flirting with the other cute little butch.”

  “I was not flirting, Liddy, it was—”

  The doors closed and Brandy wondered if she was, in fact, giving off a butch vibe these days. She’d always considered herself on the girly side for butch, though she despised handbags and required pockets in all her clothes. She could don a little black dress and heels and not feel the least bit weird. Not that she was going to wear that tonight. She had other plans.

  When she put the harness on the bed, Tess said, “I thought we were going to dinner.”

  “We are.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you like that idea?”

  “Is that why you suggested the dark little place?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tess planted a huge kiss on her. “I really am going to get lucky tonight, aren’t I?”

  “I’m the lucky one, baby.” Brandy kissed her back.

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  “And that’s not all.” Brandy reached into her suitcase and withdrew the surprise. “Happy anniversary.”

  “It’s not our anniversary—oh wow. That’s…wow.”

  The toy was heavy and thick and long, the largest that Good Vibes carried. Tess was a size queen and Brandy loved finding new ways to make her eyes roll back in her head. “You like?”

  “I think I’m going to like, yes.” Tess’s tongue darted over her lips and Brandy thought it was highly likely that Tess’s beautiful little clit had just put on a party hat and grabbed the maracas. “How on earth are you going to hide that in your pants?”

  “Those baggy gangster pants you hate.”

  “Is that why you brought them? I love those pants now.” Tess was still staring at the toy. “I like that shade of pink, too.”

  “Thought you might.”

  “It’s still not our anniversary.”

  “Sure it is. We’ve been together four years, five months and thirteen days.”

  “I love you.” Tess gave the new toy one last fond look. “I’ll just go get dressed.”

  Brandy fiddled with the harness and finally got Lucky 7—as good a name as any—into the O-ring. It was a bit of a pushing, pulling, rolling challenge, but it all sorted out and she set about getting into the harness. She still felt silly in the thing at such times. Never silly when she was actually going to get into bed with Tess, but wiggling around, dancing in circles trying to pull her pants up and the toy catching on everything, well it wasn’t debonair.

  After a one-legged Watusi, she finally had the pants belted around her waist. It really felt weird. She adjusted the pants on her hips, wriggled until the toy hung down one leg. Then she realized why it felt weirder than she’d expected.

  She’d forgotten to put on the boxers. She didn’t intend to go out of the room without some kind of underwear on—

  Tess came out of the bathroom.

  Breathe, Brandy told herself. Tess was a vision in a very short aquamarine dress studded with copper beading. The halter neck made Tess look even taller.

  “I take it from the look on your face that you like this dress?”

  Brandy nodded. She had just about found her voice when Tess turned around. Her bare back put Brandy back into the Land of No Breath. The high neck clasped with a twist of beads that dangled along Tess’s spine. Undo the beads, Brandy thought, and she’d be naked in seconds.

  All for you, you incredibly lucky dog.

  She watched Tess put on her favorite sandals. They weren’t made for walking, and had, in fact, never been out of their apartment.

  Tess looked up when she’d fastened the last buckle. “Ready?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

  “Oh! Crap.” Brandy blushed furiously. “That dress is a walking crime.”

  “I just got it this morning. There was a guy selling dresses out of the back of his van. I only noticed because he had quite a crowd. Twenty bucks. I figured out later he w
as there to sell stuff to the escort service workers.” She gave Brandy a worried look. “I don’t look like I’m for sale, do I?”

  “I will make it plain you’ve already been spoken for.”

  Tess gave her one of those serious looks that said they would talk about the subject again.

  “You don’t look cheap or available for the asking, darling.” Brandy tucked in her shirt. “You look like the gorgeous, classy creature you are. Not to mention young and attractive.”

  “You found that gray hair the other day, remember?”

  Was that still bothering her? Dunce, Brandy scolded herself. Next time don’t point it out. “That was sun streaking.”

  “If you say so.”

  “How about this?” Brandy balled her fists on her hips and walked toward Tess like Yul Brynner’s King of Siam. “Go out with me, and everyone will know you’re mine.”

  “You look magnificent.”

  Brandy dropped the attitude. “No, really. Can you see it? Does it show?”

  Tess hesitated. “Maybe a little.”

  “Well, what does it matter? Nobody is going to be looking at me.”

  Brandy repeated that to herself all the way to the restaurant. Of course it felt like the entire world was staring at her crotch. They were quickly seated and decided to share what turned out to be a wonderful apple and pecan salad, and a perfect steak with parmesan chips. Brandy enjoyed every moment of watching Tess sparkle in the candlelight. Her best friend, her lover—all the beauty in their relationship was on Tess’s side of the table, as were most of the brains.

  They shared dessert as well, and Brandy found herself a little disappointed. “Your brownies are better than this one.”

  “It looks like chocolate,” Tess said. “But I don’t taste it.”

  “Kind of like cruise ship chocolate. Remember, I told you about the food on the boat?”

  “And you told me about nearly being borrowed by that hot butch.”

  Brandy grinned and shrugged. “She was awfully cute. But I really missed you, and I was thinking about your ankle and how you must be so sorry to be forced to sit at home. I know you wouldn’t have minded if she’d borrowed me for a night, but….” Brandy hadn’t been able to admit to Tess that she’d backed out because she’d realized that nobody could touch her, reach into her, the way Tess did. The okay-to-be-borrowed rule was Tess’s, even if neither of them had used it so far. She didn’t want to mess up a really good thing by appearing possessive all of a sudden.