“I thought it bore repeating.”
Cami slipped from Brianna’s reluctant grasp, leaving her, for the moment, to stand in the middle of the room, while Cami made her way to one of the paintings of a doorway to give it closer inspection. “I could have sworn we came in through here,” Cami said.
“Your sense of direction is shit,” Barry said from the location Cami was almost entirely certain she’d left Brianna.
She whirled around to find the foot-tall rat dog/goat/road tar demon standing in Brianna’s spot and the Latina Warrior Princess nowhere in sight. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Fuck if I know,” Barry threw up two exasperated claw hands. “It’s not like I teleported here on purpose. You’re not frightened, are you?”
“Of course not,” Cami said dismissively. “I’m a badass, undead bitch.”
“You’re also the moron who just lost your girlfriend.”
“That too.”
“There’s good news though,” Barry said with a little hop.
“Which is…?”
“There’s a door behind you now.”
Cami turned to find the painting of a door had indeed materialized into an actual door. When she turned to thank Barry, she found the spot completely empty. When she turned back to the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin coming face to face with an upside down, dangling rat dog/goat/road tar demon who had secured himself to the top of the door’s molding by his spiked tail.
“Scared you!” Barry chortled.
“Did not.” Cami brushed passed him into the hallway putting a sternness to her step that might hide how much he’d startled her. The hallway looked to go on for miles with no end in sight. The more she walked, the further it stretched, until she turned to head back to the room and found it too had been replaced with just more hallway. The same handful of pictures on the walls, the same antique wall-hugging tables, and the same oil lamps repeated again and again for as long as she could see in either direction.
“Barry? Brianna?” Cami called down the hallway. When no answer came, she tried, “Carbuncle?”
When no answer came, she decided to inspect one of the paintings, which, in her slightly muddled logic, might have been what caused Barry to appear in the first place. The three pictures next to the table were portraits of three fairly ugly, moderately obese, and unhappy looking women, who, by the set of their eyes, dimple in their chin, and slope of their nose, were likely sisters.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy to see you.” Brianna immediately pressed into Cami’s back, wrapping her hands around her waist, and nearly knocking Cami face-first into the wall.
“The pictures do work!” Cami exclaimed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said shyly, “I’m happy to see you too.”
Cami reached her hands down to place them over Brianna’s around her waist, but her girlfriend moved them away first, taking Cami’s hands and positioning them with palms flat against the wall. Before Cami could protest, she felt Brianna’s hot breath along her bare shoulders and neck, followed closely by pillowy lips. Cami murmured a half-hearted protest, but didn’t move for fear it might be heeded. Brianna’s hands made their way up Cami’s sides, across to her stomach, and cupped both her breasts with firm, eager fingers. She ventured a glance over her shoulder, Brianna’s lips came away to meet hers in a soft kiss, sweet enough to distract Cami from the hands slowly pulling down the front of her costume to liberate her perky, alabaster breasts. When Brianna’s fingers pinched lightly over her nipples, dragging them to stiff attention, Cami broke the kiss to let out a little “eep” of pleasure. A little more teasing, and some meaningful pressing of Brianna’s heaving breasts into her back, drew the apparently desired result from Cami of arching her back; Brianna’s hands immediately moved from her breasts, to intertwine fingers through the hair at the back of Cami’s head, pulling her head back ever so slightly to hold her firmly in the arched pose.
The question of tops and bottoms flashed through Cami’s mind. To that point, there really hadn’t been a whole lot of either taking charge, which had left their sex-life a little vanilla in places Cami might have hoped for kink and a little less defined than she had come to know from previous lovers. If she were to be honest, and it was kind of hard not to be with her head pulled back by her hair, she really wanted to be topped; this desire, against her wishes, poured out from her mouth in a long, wet, “yessssss.”
Brianna, standing directly behind her now, apparently took the utterance for complete submission to the act. Cami could feel Brianna’s thumb running flat along her back, caressing the space between her cheeks until the silky material of her costume pressed ever so slightly between them, with her hand making its way down to the thin material barely covering Cami’s now fully interested soft lips. Brianna’s soft fingers caressed her through the costume with her thumb held back to make slow passes along the same line it had been traveling in the crevice of Cami’s behind. Each stroke brought Cami’s already taut body to more acute arousal until Brianna could apparently feel the hard little bead she’d been searching for.
When her fingers played across it, even through the material, Cami groaned in the unabashed way only true pleasure could conjure. Brianna pushed her forward against the wall, letting Cami rest her forehead on the scant space between the portraits of the three sisters. She could feel the paintings watch them, their eyes straining to the center to look down Cami’s back to what was being done to her, and she didn’t care; moreover, part of her wanted to give the stuffy old women in the pictures a show, so she leaned into it, or, more precisely, leaned back into Brianna.
Slowly at first, Brianna put her hand into a riding motion with Cami moving her hips in time, the hand in her hair acting as the reins. The desire for a gallop rose in her until she was eagerly pushing herself against the familiar hand, struggling against the rider’s pull on her hair, and bucking herself toward the hot, tingly finish line. Brianna responded with control, slowing her pace, to create a teasing longing that drove Cami to squirm. The delicious agony of being drawn back from the brink of climax didn’t go without a few pained whimpers from Cami, which seemed to thrill her lover even more. Cami could hear Brianna breathing heavier, feel the warmth of her body flooding across the short distance between them, and smell the overpowering scent of lemon poppy-seed muffins with an undeniable undertone of Brianna’s own growing wetness.
When Cami had calmed just enough to feel an iota of control over herself again, Brianna’s fingers pushed aside the bottom of Cami’s costume to the soft, eager pussy below. With Brianna’s fore and middle finger on opposite sides of Cami’s clit, like a little cigarette, any move Cami made back and forth stroked her closer and closer to the climax she’d already been denied once. On her second attempt, moving her hips in the most pleasing rhythm she could find, Brianna seemed more eager than her for things to build toward a slippery, satisfying conclusion. She tugged lightly on Cami’s hair, giving her a meaningful bump of her hips against Cami’s behind, until they settled into an ever-growing rocking motion, pushing closer and closer to the edge.
Cami couldn’t tell if she threw her head back or if Brianna pulled it, but she found herself arched at the point of climax to let out a long, loud scream of primal pleasure, her green eyes opened to narrow slits, just enough to spot lewd smiles spreading across the lips of the three sisters in the paintings. When her head fell forward in the slow tremors of aftershock orgasms, as she’d come to call them, she felt the full warmth of Brianna’s body press up against her back and the hot, eager breath of her lover cascading across her shoulder and neck, setting a few strands of her black hair to flutter.
To their right, Cami heard a door panel slide open, and someone ask for a password. “Carbuncle,” a familiar French-accented voice on the other side of the door said, and the front door flew open on them with Lewis and half-a-dozen other costumed vampires standing on the porch looking in.
Cami pulled up the
front of her costume, not before accidentally giving a brief flash of white breasts to the crowd while Brianna pulled the bottom of Cami’s costume back into place although there was little doubt, from the obvious wet spot and wrinkles, what had been going on.
“We can come back in an hour,” Lewis said, “if you two still need more time.”
Cami gave Brianna a worried look. Her girlfriend flushed red from exertion simply blushed and shrugged. “We were just leaving,” Cami said. She ventured a glance over her shoulder on the way out to the portraits of the three sisters. One of them winked at her.
About the Author
Cassandra Duffy spent most of her childhood being precocious, which stopped being entertaining or impressive when she grew into an adult, at which point she had to start being precious. She writes a free-lance sex advice column found in various lesbian magazines, and has written a handful of short story collections and novels found on her website at http://cassandra-duffy.com/. She lives and writes in Orange County with her partner and soul mate Nichole and their two cats: Dragon and Josephine. She encourages readers to contact her at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter @SapphicPixie
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
The Last Best Tip
An Eternal Night of Overtime
Haunted House on Top
About the Author
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
The Last Best Tip
An Eternal Night of Overtime
Haunted House on Top
About the Author
The Last Best Tip Page 6
