by Lynn, KT
“No, no, no, don’t be shy!” Beth tugged at her wrist, pulling her back down to sit on the toilet. They had covered the lid in a towel in readiness.
Jessie stood and started filling the basin with steaming water. She swirled the washcloth in the sink. “We put this on first to warm it all up, open up the pores so you get a nice clean shave and no stubble.”
“Very scientific,” Lu mumbled.
Her friend wrung out the washcloth and turned off the faucet. She smiled wryly at Lu as she walked over. “Open up, then.”
Biting her lip, Lu reluctantly parted her legs. She felt Beth’s hand on her knee, warm and reassuring, and smiled at her friend. Then Jessie pressed the steaming hot washcloth to Lu’s most intimate area. The heat felt good, and Lu spread her legs a little wider as Jessie pressed the damp towelling cloth more firmly against her.
“Okay?” Jessie asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Lu smiled. “I’m okay.”
“Well then,” said Beth, flicking her blonde fringe out of her eyes, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Beth was to be in charge of the actual shaving. She had the steadiest hand and claimed she had never once cut herself shaving. She shook the can of shaving cream and squirted a liberal dollop onto her palm. “Washcloth,” she said, and Jessie removed the hot cloth from Lu’s groin. Lu struggled not to laugh – it was like some kind of medical drama. But the she jumped as Beth started daubing the cold foam onto her heated flesh. “Sorry,” Beth mumbled.
Lu didn’t really mind. It was just a strong contrast. The heat had felt so good, so relaxing and comforting. The sudden application of cold shaving cream ran a shiver down her spine. It was soft and soapy. Lu could feel the gentle tickle of Beth’s fingers smearing it down between her legs, covering her pussy in fluffy cold foam. The cold was a shock, but it felt good to be so smoothed and stroked.
Beth wiped her hands on the washcloth then picked up the razor. With a hand on Lu’s thigh to keep them well spread, she looked up at her friend. “Ready?” she asked.
Finding it hard to speak, Lu just nodded.
The first glide of the razor was smooth. She felt the blades grazing her skin, lubricated by the slick shaving foam. Jessie placed a bowl of hot water between Lu’s legs, and Beth rinsed the razor in the water. Looking down, Lu saw the single stripe of skin amongst the white foam of the shaving gel. The skin looked fresh and clean and pink. She touched a finger to the stripe and hissed between her teeth. The skin was so sensitive, hidden for years beneath a layer of thick hair.
Beth was waiting to continue, and Lu leaned back to allow her better access, keeping her hands behind her. None of them talked as Beth worked the razor carefully over Lu’s mound. Her free hand rested on Lu’s thigh, tensed in concentration. True to her word, Lu was never worried by a scratch or graze from the razor. Beth worked carefully with a sure hand, and before long there was only pink skin where Lu could see.
“Okay, I’m going to work on the lips now. You need to keep really still, OK?”
Lu nodded in response, “Okay.” In truth, though, Lu could feel her heart pounding, her breath growing a little shorter panting from between her parted lips. The air seemed to caress and tickle her overly sensitive mound, and she was hyper aware of Beth’s hands on her naked skin. When she raised her free hand to the top of Lu’s pussy, pulling the skin slightly to stretch it, Lu had to bite down on her lip to keep from sighing in…what? In pleasure? In surprise? As embarrassing as it was, Lu found she was becoming turned on by her friend Beth’s touch, by the frank and open gaze of her other friend.
The cool razor grazed down Lu’s right pussy lip. Beth moved slowly and carefully. Lu found herself holding her breath, craning to see the smooth bare skin appear from beneath the shaving foam. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she saw how swollen her labia had become. She thought she had been hiding how aroused she was by the whole experience. Had Beth and Jessie noticed? The humiliation only worked to heighten her arousal, and Lu could feel her cheeks burning as Beth swilled off the razor and started down her left pussy lip.
“Nearly done,” murmured Beth, who seemed fixated on Lu’s pussy. Lu told herself the interest was purely professional – of course her friend wanted to focus on the task at hand – but there was a small dark part of her mind that wanted for Beth’s interest in her pussy to be more than that.
“All done?” Jessie asked. Lu wondered if she was imagining it, or if Jessie’s voice was a little huskier than normal.
Jessie moved forward as Beth carried away the bowl and razor, and lifted a soft fluffy white towel to Lu’s mound. She dabbed gently at the remaining foam, drying Lu and wiping her clean. The skin was so sensitive, so swollen already from arousal that Lu was struggling not to gasp and moan at every soft brush of the towel. If Jessie noticed, she didn’t say anything, for which Lu was grateful…sort of.
“Last but not least,” Beth announced as she came back into the room. She was holding a large pot of almond body butter.
“What’s that for?” Lu asked suspiciously, as Jessie continued dabbing at her pussy until she was aroused almost to distraction.
Beth grinned, twisting off the lid. “Need to get you nice and moist straight away. You don’t want a razor rash, do you?”
“No,” Lu said faintly.
The towel dropped from between Lu’s legs, and Beth moved into position. She scooped up a finger full of body butter and Lu had barely a moment to hold her breath before the cool, creamy butter was spread onto her pussy. Beth started at the top, rubbing it gently but firmly into Lu’s mound. But as she worked lower, Lu found it harder and harder to keep quiet. Her clit was throbbing, her cunt hole aching for more attention than this gentle clinical teasing. As Beth’s fingertip brushed over Lu’s labia, she couldn’t keep it in any longer and let out a soft moan of pleasure.
A hush fell over the group. Lu closed her eyes – she couldn’t bear to see her friends’ faces. How shocked and disgusted they must be by her obvious arousal. Hours seemed to pass, but surely it must only have been seconds. Lu tried to think of something to say. She should be apologizing, but the words were stuck in her throat and would not come out.
Then the fingers were on her once more. At least two hands, the digits soft and supple, glided over smooth moisturized skin. They drew inwards; they dipped lower. She felt a finger slide through the juices that had collected during the shaving and slick upwards to her clit. Again, Lu couldn’t keep back a moan of pleasure. But this time there was a giggle from below her, between her legs. Lu slitted her eyes open, risking a look at her friends. Beth was fascinated by her pussy. It was her finger circling slowly around Lu’s hard little clit. Jessie had produced the giggle. Her hand stroked gently at Lu’s mound, finger pads sliding over her baby smooth lips as she watched her friend’s face with a grin.
“See how quick you can make her come,” Jessie suggested to Beth, though she never took her eyes off Lu’s face.
Jessie’s fingers spread Lu’s cunt lips apart, while Beth’s slicked fingers worked over Lu’s clit. She used two, massaging either side of the delicate bundle of nerves, squeezing gently then rubbing circles over it. When she began to flick the tip, almost tapping it, Lu could feel herself approaching the edge. She was so wet, Beth’s fingers made sloppy slapping noises as they tapped out a fast staccato rhythm against Lu’s clit that drove her wild. She was gripping at the towel beneath her, head thrown back no longer watching her friends as they adeptly manipulated her pussy. It was becoming a struggle to keep her legs spread. She desperately wanted to clamp them shut, to force on the orgasm that was fast approaching. But Beth’s clever fingers worked their magic. As she flattened her palm against Lu’s needy cunt and rubbed hard, Lu felt her body tense and release into orgasm. She shuddered, moaning and jerking into her friend’s hand.
“My turn,” Jessie murmured. Beth made way for her, and Jessie took up position between Lu’s spread shaking legs.
Lu was barely aware of what wa
s happening, the afterglow of her climax making her head hazy and sleepy. She reveled in the slow clench and release of her body, the slowing of her breathing, the spreading heat of her cunt. When Jessie’s hot tongue began to probe her innermost folds, she jolted back to reality. Her eyes flew open, and she saw her friend’s dark eyes looking up at her. Lu moaned in pleasure, hypersensitive to every gentle flick and lathe of Jessie’s tongue. There was a split second where she thought, ‘this is wrong’, and considered pushing Jessie away and storming out. This was her best friend. She might never be able to look her in the face again – at least not without knowing where that face had been.
Instead, Lu buried her fingers in Jessie’s hair, the thin braids slipping between her fingers like water. She hummed and keened in pleasure, hardly able to form a thought as Jessie lapped delicately at her clit. She was too far gone to even to be surprised when she watched Beth pull down Jessie’s pajama bottoms, or when her head disappeared behind Jessie’s body. When Jessie moaned into Lu’s cunt it was obvious what Beth was doing.
Together their cries rose to a crescendo. Jessie moaned into Lu’s pussy, and Lu keened as her friend licked and suckled ever more enthusiastically. They were reaching climax together, Jessie’s fingernails digging into Lu’s strong thighs, until panting and screaming they both came at once.
Lu watched as her two friends raised their sticky faces. They turned to look at each other and grinned, then leaned in and kissed each other. Lu heard Beth moan, saw her tongue flicker out and taste the juices smearing Jessie’s lips. “You taste good, Lu,” Beth said grinning.
“What about you?” Jessie asked, her fingers plucking at Beth’s pants. “I’m sure Lu wants to say thank you to you for making her so smooth and sensitive. It seems she enjoyed being shaved a lot more than she thought.”
Lu felt her cheeks flaming. She was embarrassed, deeply embarrassed – but Jessie was right. It was only polite to say thank you to Beth for bringing her so much pleasure. Mutely Lu slid onto the floor with her friends. She pushed Beth gently back onto the floor and lifted her hips to slide off her pyjama bottoms. Lu had never been with another woman before, had never tasted any juices but her own. There was a moment of fear in the moments before she dipped her head between Beth’s legs, that she would not be able to do it. But with the first long tentative lick along Beth’s slit, she tasted her friend’s delicious honey and heard her groan in pleasure. She knew there would be no problem.
Lu tried her best to do what she herself liked. She massaged Beth’s clit with her tongue, flattening firmly against it and moving her head to give a warm, consistent friction. Then she circled it with the very tip of her tongue, then finally set to flicking it firmly. Beth’s hands were on her head, nails grazing her scalp. She held her in, keeping her head positioned just so, as her body began to arch up off of the floor.
When she came, Beth’s thighs clamped hard around Lu’s head. She ground up into Lu’s face, moaning and crying out. It was some moments before her body relaxed, and Lu was released, breathing heavily.
The three girls lay together on the floor, Lu and Jessie curling around either side of Beth’s warm panting body. They smoothed her hair, then settled on either shoulder. The trio were silent for some moments. It was hard to know what to say.
Eventually Beth broke the silence. With a coy grin that neither of her friends saw she said, “Same time next week?”
The Wealthy Client
by Harriet Lovelace
Themes: light BDSM; toys; dubious consent
“Madam…” The chauffer said, startling me. He had my bags in hand, prepared to escort me up the steps of Donovan Hague’s home. I’d been flown via the mogul’s private jet to the Amalfi Coast, where I would stay as his personal guest in a private villa on the estate.
Our firm had always done business with incredibly wealthy men used to being in the company of beautiful women and Jerrick Morgan Limited, the wealth management firm I had worked six years, knew the effect I had on potential clients.
I was no fool. I knew my looks were a big deal. Jerrick Morgan decided to take advantage of that fact once they realized what they had in me: a sexy and attractive go-getter, ambitious and determined, willing to do what it took to get new business, and millions of dollars, in the door. As part of the Senior Investment Team my track record for signing clients had, so far, been unsurpassed. I was great at my job, but was smart enough to use the advantage my looks and charm gave me to succeed and sign more clients than anyone in the firm.
Donovan Hague would be no exception. A man of great wealth, the firm was incredibly interested in obtaining his account, the biggest we’d sign in nearly a decade.
I stood aghast, in awe of the immense scale and beauty of Hague’s Italian home. To the right was a private orchard of lemon and olive trees. To the left was a tennis court and beautiful-constructed conservatory. I couldn’t allow this level of opulence to throw me off my game.
Stepping from the car and following the chauffeur, I walked the steps to the double doors of the estate. Searching for a bell, I saw none. The chauffeur straightened, snapping his body to attention, my carry-on bags tightly within his grip. Suddenly, the double doors opened. A woman appeared, her long arms stretched, opening the doors to full capacity. She was olive-complexioned, with long, dark hair, perfectly straight parted down the middle. She was exotically striking.
She was wearing a custom designed maid’s uniform comprised of a top and skirt, her midriff, flat and toned, between the two garments. The top had holes, allowing her breasts to hang, visible, through the top. The skirt, a short, black lace petticoat with a ruffle at the bottom, was incredibly short, falling only five-to-six inches from her waist. Her height close to six feet tall, I saw every inch of her long legs. She wore no panties, her fully shaved mound visible through the sheer skirt.
“Welcome, Ms. Bailey,” she said with a slight accent. “My name is Sofia. We have been expecting you. Lambert!” She snapped to the chauffeur, who quickly bounded the rest of the steps with my belongings and entered the house.
“Lambert will be placing your things in the guest house. They’ll be put away and ready for you when you retire to your room this evening. Please, come in.”
Turning, her skirt billowed, giving a full view of the cheeks below. Underneath the hem of her skirt was a small tattoo of the letter “H”. She sauntered through the foyer in six-inch gold heels, glancing back every few steps to ensure I was keeping pace. In her right hand she held a smart phone in a pure gold case. That must be at least 24 carats, I thought to myself.
She led me down an intricate labyrinth of hallways and into an immense library completely furnished in 19th century Victorian furniture. Inside, another maid, in a similarly designed uniform, placed a silver platter of hors d’oeuvres on a French gilt marble table. She was fair-skinned and green-eyed with a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her hair was platinum blonde, her roots showing no sign of imperfection. Long and straight, it flowed down her back; parted down the middle just like Sofia’s. Her breasts were immense, much larger than Sofia’s. Her nipples were pierced with small gold rings dangling from them. Her big breasts swayed as she bent to set the tray upon the table.
“Thank you, Gwendolyn, that’ll be all.” I heard a male voice say from the corner of the room. I looked to the left and saw Donovan Hague sitting behind a large mahogany desk.
Gwendolyn straightened, turned on her gold heel and exited the room, her large breasts bouncing as she walked. As she passed me, she smiled politely my way. Crossing my path, I turned my head slightly, following her, noting the letter “H” tattooed on her right, taught buttock.
“Welcome Elizabeth. May I call you Elizabeth, Ms. Bailey?” he asked, his voice a silky baritone.
“Yes, please.” I said. “Hello, Mr. Hague.” I did not expect him to offer the same courtesy. Walking toward me he politely offered his hand.
“Please have a seat.” He said, motioning to an antique sof
a prominently situated in the middle of the room. “Can I offer you a refreshment, Elizabeth?”
Hague stood and circled his desk, leaning one arm casually against the edge. He wore designer navy suit pants and a crisp white collared shirt unbuttoned slightly at the top. Hague was a strikingly handsome man with medium length sandy brown hair sprinkled with flecks of distinguished gray. His chiseled face barely showed signs of his forty-seven years. He was most certainly the sort of man to walk in a room and be noticed as well as the sort of man to leave that same room and be remembered.
“Um… sparkling water, please.” I said as I sat.
Nodding toward Sofia, who stood in the entranceway at attention, he communicated Elizabeth’s need for a drink. Raising her phone Sofia typed a brief message and smiled Hague’s way sweetly. He mouthed the words “Thank you” in her direction and nodded his head. As she turned to leave the room, I watched as his eyes travelled up and down her body, stopping just at the letter “H” on her voluptuous rear.
