LipstickLeslee

by Titania Leslee

  But at this moment I wondered, why hadn’t I thought otherwise?

  It didn’t matter. All that did was right now. I drowned in her. I kneaded her firm ass with one hand while my mouth devoured hers. My other hand cupped one breast and I brushed my thumb over the tight bud. She mewled her pleasured response into my mouth and clung to me. Her hips started doing a circular dance atop my leg that could mean only one thing. She was turned-on and attempting to reach orgasm by rubbing her pussy against my leg.

  Whoa. These were the things of fantasies, not reality. The room spun around me in a surreal dream as I gripped her ass and pulled her farther onto my lap. She clung to me and propped both knees up on the desk on either side of me. I broke the kiss and looked down between her legs, just needing a quick glimpse of her body against mine. Her dress bunched up, and so did mine. Her thin panty strip had moved to the side and I saw that she was completely shaven. I caught a glimpse of her swollen labia and just the tip of her clit beginning to bloom out. My mouth watered. I imagined tasting it, licking it, claiming it as mine. And ah, if only I had my strap-on in place, I’d be fucking her pretty little pussy and bouncing her on me like some cowgirl on a bucking pony.

  We were all over each other. Her hands were in my hair beneath my wig, then zipping down to cup one of my engorged boobs. She squeezed me, tight and randy, her hands racing up and down my back. Her moans were so loud, even drowning out the music just outside my door. I considered stumbling with her to the couch on the far wall, falling over the top of her and smothering her mouth completely with mine while I finger-fucked her, devoured her tits, ate her pussy completely until the stars—

  “Leslee.” A knock sounded on the door. “What the fuck are you doing in there?”

  That motherfucker. Charles shoved open the door and stuck his stupid head in. His expression went from anger to annoyance, and ended with a flicker of lust. “Ah, I should have known you’d be in here molesting someone.”

  “Fuck you, Charles,” I said, though not my usual way of speaking to the man who seemed to hold all my financial cards in his fat, filthy hands. But this time was different. He’d gone and interrupted the fantasy that I’d had in my heart for six months now, ever since I’d hired Melanie.

  Melanie made a clamor of disentangling herself from me and getting her feet back on the floor. She panted. Her face was pink, her long hair in sexy shambles, her eyes downcast, and that damn red lipstick she’d just slathered on my lips was all over her mouth and chin. She smoothed down her hair and trotted to the window. With her back turned on me and Charles, who still hung his head in the door, she appeared to be fighting to tame her embarrassment and heavy breathing.

  Poor thing. She must be so humiliated. A hetero being caught with her dress up while wrapped around a lesbian like a sweet yogurt-covered pretzel. No, not exactly what I would have wanted either back when I was in her on-the-fence shoes. And yeah, there was no denying, Melanie was on the fence, and based on that response, she had been for some time now.

  But how had she gotten on that fence, and why did I not see it until now?

  “The contest starts in twenty-five minutes. Get your asses out of the gutter and in line by the fucking stage.” He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he slammed the door and his footsteps sauntered away.

  “Melanie.” I said it gently, but I saw her shoulders quiver. “Hey, don’t make me stumble across the room and risk breaking my leg. Come back here.”

  She inhaled with an exaggerated huff and finally whirled around on her stilettoes. “I¼I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what?”

  She crossed to the leather sofa and plopped down on it, making it squeak as she settled in. Her hair was a fuck-me mess and her face a beautiful, disordered conglomeration of my makeup and hers blended into one. The black dress was in a haphazard bunch near her hips, though it was pulled down just low enough to cover her pussy.

  “I don’t know what just happened.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, then slammed her head back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did that.”

  I reached for a sample bag of tissue and stuffed it in the makeup tray. Somehow by the grace of all that’s holy, I was able to slither off the desk and get my footing. I grabbed the makeup box and carried it with me to the couch. Very carefully I nudged her knees apart with my legs and knelt before her. I set the box on the sofa at her right, handed her a tissue and rested my arms and hands on her thighs.

  “Melanie. Look, it’s okay.” I rubbed the tops of her thighs with my palms, delighting in the way it made her quiver and her legs fall farther open. Her skin was like satin beneath my touch, so much more than any other woman I’d ever been with. I caught a glimpse of her moist pussy but dragged my gaze up to meet hers. Torment lit the dark-cocoa irises.

  “There’s nothing wrong with two women kissing, whether they’re lesbian, bisexual or heterosexual. You understand?” I prompted gently.

  “Or if they’re just curious?” she asked in more a whisper than out loud. She swiped at her mouth with the tissue, clearing her face of the smeared remnants of our kiss.

  I smiled at her and reached up to cup her jaw, tilting her head down so she looked me right in the eye. “Even if they’re just curious. And if ‘they’ are just curious, I’d be honored to be the one to appease that curiosity. Do you understand what I’m saying, Melanie?”

  Because hell, there was no way after that amazing response that I was going to let this one get by me.

  She nodded, looked away. When her gaze swung back to me, it looked as if she’d gathered up some courage. She blurted out, “I am curious, Leslee. Ever since I walked in on my stepmom and my best friend Kaydee, um¼well, in bed you know, I’ve been plagued with curiosity. And¼”

  “And?”

  Melanie blinked. She took a big breath and reached for my hand. Her legs spread wide open. My jaw nearly hit the couch when she dragged my hand up and under her bunched-up dress and pressed my palm to her damp womanhood, covered only by a wisp of a black G-string. Her eyes rolled back in her head. A growled response came out of her tight throat. “And this incessant arousal that’s been plaguing me ever since I saw Kaydee naked. Oh god, it feels so good to have you touch me there. And you look so feminine and gorgeous in that dress and in that wig and with the makeup on.”

  I was getting the picture. This was a woman who’d had feelings of same-sex attraction buried inside her for who knew how long, and hadn’t known it or at least faced it until recently. I remember she’d briefly given me a rundown on walking in on her friend and stepmom, but she’d said it with such contempt that I’d assumed her anti-gay repulsion was real. Only now, here she was admitting without realizing it that what had put her over the edge and made her face her desires was first the incident with her friend, and now me dressed up femininely rather than my usual butch or neutral-gender style of clothing.

  Ah yes. Melanie liked to be femme and indulge in femme women at the same time. She’d decided—just now realized?—that she was more curious about the lipstick lesbians rather than the masculine ones.

  So if getting this yummy chick in bed meant putting on some lipstick and a stupid dress, well I just might be persuaded¼

  “I’m your boss, Melanie. Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I had to get the rules straight before I went any further. I couldn’t afford to bring discord or a lawsuit to my day job. I needed that hotel salary—all of which already went straight into a separate account in anticipation of Charles fucking Pussycat’s up and yanking it out from underneath me. It was my safety net for the day he finally sold his sixty percent to Bards Holdings.

  Anyway, if the awkwardness of my being her boss and lover could be worked out, then the only problem left for me was that I worried I still couldn’t fit her femme desires even with gobs of makeup on and this slip of a dress. But hell, that wasn’t going to stop me from at least getting a sample of her whi
le I could. Shit, I’d play dress-up with her every night, whether I dug it or not, if it got me this hot, mewling woman begging for me to touch her and kiss her.

  Mmmm, my mouth moistened. And fuck her and taste that gorgeous pussy. I pushed aside the G-string and traced each shaven, wet labia with a fingertip, which made her cry out in this sexy, high-pitched girl-song.

  “Yes, oh gosh, yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. Make love to me, Leslee. Just do it. I wanna know what it’s like.” She made the leather sofa squeak as she wriggled forward, pressed harder into my hand and held her legs open like a gymnast doing the splits. My heart skittered in my chest. Her pussy resembled an aerial view of a pink rose in bloom, the outer and inner folds reminding me of the satiny petals, while the clit and vaginal opening looked similar to a rose center where nectar formed.

  I brushed my thumb over the very tip of her swollen clit. The entrance to her pussy tightened then opened wide. White cream filled the center, reminding me of a delicious cream-filled donut. She dug her fingers into the sofa and held on, swiveling her hips up and around so that my thumb never stopped stimulating her.

  “Ah, Lez, mmmm¼” She thrashed her head from side to side. Her legs trembled as she attempted to keep her feet balanced on the spiky heels.

  I leaned forward and blew on her pussy, increasing the pressure with my thumb as I rolled it in a circular motion. I caught her woman’s scent, so fresh, musky and sweet. My libido sped up. All I could think of was tasting her, watching her face contort in ecstasy as I brought her to that special woman-on-woman brink of bliss.

  She groaned aloud and lifted her hips closer to my face. “Do it, Leslee, please. Eat me out.”

  A surge of desire sped through my veins and my pussy engorged with wet heat, soaking the stupid G-string I wore beneath my dress. There was no doubt I could taste her and make her come within a few moments, while rubbing myself off as I knelt between her knees. But I wanted more. I needed more than just a quickie that would probably go forgotten by her in the end. I had to make it so that she couldn’t forget me, or how amazing it could be between two women.

  So I buried a finger inside her moist, tight cunt and leaned closer to her so that my breasts snuggled atop her lower abdomen. She cried out again, panting, thrashing. I nuzzled at her breasts, inhaling her perfume as I bit the edge of the bodice and drew it aside, exposing one tit. It popped out, a beautiful pale mound of perfection tipped by a taut, dark nipple. I finger-fucked her, slow at first, then I picked up the pace as my tongue alternated laving her nipple with sucking and gently biting it.

  Now that I had her wet and ready and horny, it was time to go in for the tender kill. I kissed my way up her chest, continuing to fuck her pussy with my finger. Slurping sounds filled the small office space, interrupted only by our mutual moans, her ragged breathing and the rocking rhythm of the sofa as she thrust her hips into my hand. The Santa Baby holiday song out in the bar made for a sexy background, but this woman was all I needed to set the mood.

  I kissed the underside of her delicate jaw, savoring the silky feel of her skin against my lips, then I found her pulse along the side of her neck. She sighed and tipped her head back to allow me complete access. I filled my free hand with her bare breast, and the fire that lit my groin was an inferno the likes of which I’d never experienced with any other woman in the last few years since my divorce. Her long hair streamed along her shoulder and upper arm, giving me a private cocoon to explore her flesh with my mouth while my hand massaged her breast and lightly pinched her already hard nipple. I suckled at her neck and she trembled, wheezed, moaned aloud.

  The entire time I’d been working on her, she’d had her arms either resting on the sofa at her sides or clutching her thighs. But now they slid up and clamped around my shoulders. She tugged me close, and while it had been my intent to finally end my taste-journey up her smoking-hot body at her mouth, it was Melanie who pulled me to her instead.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, her eyes two large round discs of amazed desire. “I want to finish seeing what it feels like to kiss soft lips without all the whiskers and roughness.”

  “Melanie¼” I dragged my palm up the slope of her chest and tangled my fingers in the thick hair at her nape. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve fantasized about you? About this? About making love to you and touching you and—”

  Her mouth came down on mine, silencing my profession of pure infatuation. Just as well, because I had no idea how far I’d been about to go with all that. Something about her made me reckless and needy. Needy as I was now with her silken lips skating over mine and her satiny little tongue darting into my mouth, circling my tongue like some teasing little slut who only wanted her own urges satisfied and didn’t care about the other person.

  She drank of me and suckled on my tongue. Her kisses were pure passion. Yes, the woman knew how to kiss, as evidenced by my soaking-wet pussy and the throbbing in my groin each time she started a new round of devouring and lip-nipping and suck-my-soul-dry kisses.

  I continued to slide my finger in and out of her as she kissed me, adding an occasional swipe of her clit with my thumb. It gave me that small edge of control over her mesmerizing kissing, reminding her I was the one with the experience and the power to bring her to orgasm.

  Somehow I broke free of her kiss and her spell and moved back down her body. While she moaned and bucked, I made a trail along each breast, down her flat, quivering belly to her hips. I gave each one an exaggerated bit of attention before I finally moved front and center.

  “Yes…” Melanie cried out when I took my first taste of her swollen bud. The flavor was the sweetest I’d ever tasted on a woman, and I’d had more than my fair share since the divorce.

  “Ah, you are perfect, Mel. Delicious, more than I ever imagined you’d be.” I removed my finger and dragged her closer to me so that her ass hung off the edge of the sofa. And wow, what an ass. The puckered little hole surrounded by the firm glutes just begged for my attention. But not this time. That would be for another time after I’d broken her in and gotten her to the point where she begged for more.

  Her glazed eyes caught my gaze over the length of her swollen breasts and the flat slope of her belly. “You’ve imagined this before, being with me?”

  “Oh yes.” I chuckled and flicked my tongue back and forth over her juicy clit. Her creamy flavor burst on my tongue, while her perfume mixed with the tangy scent of her woman’s juices and filled the space between us, teasing my nostrils and making me crazy with desire. “Ever since I laid eyes on you that day you walked in my office at the hotel for your interview.”

  “Really?” She grinned and moaned at the same time, and the blinding whiteness of her smile seemed to snatch the air from my lungs.

  I smiled back at her, but my grin faded. “Melanie, are you sure you want to go through with this only to later wish¼”

  My words must have brought her back to reality. A cloud of indecision and warring emotions crossed her beautiful face and stormed in her eyes. “I-I¼ Hell, I don’t—”

  I bent my head and swirled my tongue around her clit, regretting my warning to her, suddenly afraid she’d change her mind before I got to prove myself to her.

  “Oooh…” She screamed it out so loud, the bartenders had to have heard it. Her hands threaded in my hair and her hips came off the sofa, doing this swiveling dance against my hungry mouth.

  I’d had this sudden horrifying sense that she might change her mind, so I’d decided on a whim that I couldn’t let that happen, not when I had her all spread out before me like a Thanksgiving feast. I couldn’t help myself, so here I was going in for the kill. No more tenderness, no more taking my time. I sucked and licked her hard, moving down at intervals to tongue-fuck her sopping-wet pussy hole. She went wild on me, growling like a pussycat, her tits, both free of the dress now, bouncing above me as I finger-fucked her hard and fast while slurping and devouring her clit.

  Damn, what heaven th
is was—she was. I had to have her, all of her. She was my fantasy come true, the woman I’d been dreaming about for nearly six months now, the one who’d ruined all my chances at love or even good sex with any other woman just because it seemed no one could compare to her.

  I would have her, I knew it now. Not just here in this random place on a wham-bam basis, but as my lover, my woman, my partner.

  And the only way I knew how to talk this hot hetero woman into walking on the wild lesbian side with me was to seduce her just like I was now. Hook her and then sink her into my world until she drowned in me.

  Melanie sucked in a ragged breath and held it in. Her body stiffened. She was just about to come all over my face when a knock sounded at the door.

  Her eyes flew open. They were confused, glazed pools of passion and disappointment all wrapped up in one. “What the¼?”

  “Leslee.” The voice of Billy sounded on the other side of the door. Crap, go away. “Sorry to interrupt, but the contest. You’re on in less than ten minutes.”

  “Shit.” I stood and straightened my wig and dress. “I forgot about the contest. Come on, get up. You’ve still got to teach me how to dance. Damn that motherfucker Charlie.”

  “B-but¼” Melanie sighed and perched herself on the edge of the couch. She straightened her dress and combed her fingers through her hair. Her face reddened and she looked everywhere but at me. Finally she met my gaze. “Sorry to say this, Leslee, but you do look like a clown after all. You have lipstick smeared all over your mouth.”

  I chuckled. “So do you, honey. But you’re going to fix that on the both of us right now. Then teach me a few quick dance moves so I can get this stupid contest over with.”

  “Fine. Sure.” Melanie reached for the makeup. She stood with it in hand and I noted how her legs wobbled as she tried to walk on her stilettoes, which was highly unusual for Melanie. Normally she could glide on those dumb shoes as if she were barefooted.