Arms Wide Open

by Donna Jay

  “Want to tell me what’s got you all excited?”

  She lowered her head and sucked a nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around before drawing it between her lips again.

  “You.” Yvonne rocked her pelvis, a silent plea for more.

  Their lips met again. Julie pushed one finger inside, rolling her thumb in slow circles over her clit.

  Moaning, Yvonne’s breath whispered across Julie’s neck. “More.”

  Just as Julie was about to grant her wish, she had a better idea. It’d been a while since the toys had come out, but she was willing to chance Yvonne would be receptive.

  “Should I get Freda?”

  Yvonne’s heavy lidded eyes fluttered open. “Please.”

  The husky timbre of her voice was all the encouragement Julie needed. She leaned over to retrieve the electric-blue vibrator out of the bedside drawer.

  “Geez, woman, don’t squash me.” Yvonne squirmed as if Julie weighed a tonne.

  “Shush.” Julie silenced her with a kiss. With her thumb and forefinger, she twisted the base of the vibrator. A thrill ran through her when it buzzed to life.

  She ran it along Yvonne’s slit, simultaneously teasing her nipples with her tongue. Yvonne’s hand snaked through Julie’s short, black hair, gently pulling on the roots.

  Julie teased her with the toy until she was bucking against her hand, a silent plea to be fucked.

  “You want this inside you?”

  “Yes,” her voice was breathy.

  “Imagine it strapped to Brenda.”

  She held her breath, waiting for Yvonne’s response. They’d fantasised together before, but it’d been a long time.

  When Yvonne murmured, “God, yes,” Julie nuzzled her neck and she slid the toy home.

  “Imagine she’s fucking you while I’m sucking you.” She sucked Yvonne’s nipple into her mouth.

  A wanton moan tore from Yvonne’s chest, igniting Julie’s blood. Her pussy throbbed, and her nipples ached. She fed off Yvonne’s arousal.

  “She’s fucking you, pumping in and out. I’m watching your walls gripping and releasing her cock.”

  When Yvonne whimpered in response, Julie upped the tempo, working the vibrator at the same time as she drew a nipple into her mouth.

  Yvonne’s breaths came faster, her moans louder. Her hips bucked wildly, and over she went.

  “Ah, fuck.” Her hand clamped down on Julie’s arm, fingernails digging in, hips bucking as she rode out her orgasm.

  As her body stilled, Julie turned the dial on the base of the toy until the vibrations ceased. Withdrawing slowly, she peppered kisses along Yvonne’s neck as she came down.

  “I don’t think I’ve come so hard in—”

  “Ten years?” Julie supplied.

  “Shut up.” Yvonne smacked her arm, before collapsing back against the pillow. “I need water.”

  “Stay where you are, I’ll get it.” Julie climbed out of bed. She opened the door and Ginger rushed in.

  In the kitchen, the cold linoleum made her do a quick march to the sink. She filled a large glass with water and rushed back to their bedroom.

  She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Yvonne was fast asleep, blankets pulled up to her neck, Ginger purring loudly on her chest.

  Thinking ahead, Julie backtracked to the bathroom and grabbed some painkillers. Someone was going to have a sore head in the morning, and it wasn’t her.

  Overcome by the love she felt for this wonderful woman, she climbed into bed and kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

  Chapter 12

  The first thing Yvonne became aware of when she woke the next morning was the pounding of a jackhammer. She cracked an eye open, and the throbbing turned to excruciating pain. She had the headache of all headaches.

  Groaning, she slammed her eyes shut again.

  When would she learn Bacardi-and-coke weren’t her friends? She was old enough to know better. Shit. How many did she have? Three, four, or was it five?

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” The bed dipped when Julie’s sat beside her, smelling fresh as a daisy.

  Cracking open an eye; she was met by Julie’s smiling face.

  “Here, take these.” She handed her two Ibuprofen, followed by a tall glass of water. “You probably should have guzzled this before you conked out, would’ve helped stave off the headache.”

  “Thanks, Doc Julie.”

  The bed rocked making her feel seasick as Julie got to her feet.

  “I’ll go scramble some eggs. The protein will help settle your tummy.”

  “Who says I’ve got an upset stomach?” Yvonne sat up and a wave of nausea slammed into her like a Tsunami. “Ugh.” She flopped back against the pillows.

  “See you in the kitchen.” Julie squeezed her hand.

  “I hate you.” Yvonne called after her as if it was her fault she’d had far too much to drink.

  Something Julie said to her after the third drink, or maybe it was her forth, hit her full force. “Are you sure you want another?”

  Last night she’d been sure, this morning, not so much. Thank God it was Sunday, and she didn’t have to work.

  A wave of vertigo hit her as she got to her feet. Taking a minute to get her balance, she cursed old age. She’d never been a big drinker, but twenty years ago a few drinks hadn’t knocked her around like this. Then again, twenty years ago her bones didn’t ache when she got out of bed either.

  The terrycloth robe caressed every inch of her skin as she slipped it on.

  What the hell?

  She pulled open the belt and looked down. Yep, she was naked. She must’ve been buzzed not to have taken the time to slip her nightie back on, after…

  Embarrassment hit her like a hot flash as the previous night seeped into her consciousness. One look at Freda, abandoned like an unwanted friend, confirmed their make out session hadn’t been a dream. Feeling bad for her faithful toy, she bent down to retrieve it.

  She squinted against the blinding pain as blood rushed to her temples. Abandoning Freda, she straightened again.

  “I’ll clean you up later.” Great, now she was talking to her vibrator as if it was a person.

  After relieving her bladder, she washed her hands, trying hard not to look in the mirror above the vanity. Bits of hair stuck out like twigs in a birds nest, her eyes were bloodshot, her complexion pale.

  One thing she knew for sure, breakfast was either going to kill or cure her.

  “Sit.” Julie ushered her to the table where a tall glass of orange juice was waiting for her, pill bottle beside it.

  “Thanks.” She popped an omeprazole, hoping the acid suppressant would kick in quickly.

  She glanced around, looking for Ginger. It wasn’t like him not to come running when he smelled bacon.

  Her gaze landed on the big orange fur ball wafting down a bowl of food.

  Warmed by the gesture, she smiled her thanks to Julie. “You fed my cat.”

  “I like feeding your pussy.”

  “Ugh.” Yvonne groaned.

  Smiling, Julie pulled the sizzling frying pan off the element. “Would you like bacon and eggs or just eggs?”

  As delicious as the bacon smelled, Yvonne wasn’t sure if her stomach could handle the grease. She didn’t want to risk heartburn on top of a pounding headache.

  “Just eggs, thanks.”

  After breakfast, Yvonne soaked in a bath. By the time she got out, she felt almost human again. Planning on a lazy day, she wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror and pulled her hair into a messy ponytail.

  Yvonne spun around as Julie stepped into the bathroom.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Much.” She put her arms around Julie’s waist. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.” She pecked her on the lips. She tasted salty, like bacon. Julie wanted to nibble her lips. “Breakfast was great.”

  “And last night?”

  “That was great, too. Thank you for talking me into going out.”
It had done her good.

  “My pleasure.” Julie pressed Yvonne against the vanity. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that soon deepened.

  Yvonne’s breath hitched, and her mind whirled. Her libido was all over the place. One minute she couldn’t get enough, the next she barely tolerated anything more than a kiss and a cuddle.

  Julie cupped Yvonne’s cheek, searching her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have a threesome?”

  Unsure what she wanted to hear, Yvonne returned the question with one of her own. “Why do you ask?”

  “You were hot as hell last night, and that was before I touched you.”

  “I was tipsy.” Yvonne looked away, hoping Julie couldn’t see the images that played out in her mind. Images Julie had put there. Reminding herself of that fact, she met Julie’s gaze.

  Her pupils were enlarged, making the irises appear more black than brown.

  “Okay, I was turned on by the idea. But I can’t say I’d go through with it if we had the chance.”

  “We did have the chance.” Julie held her gaze.

  God, they did too. Brenda made her intentions more than clear when she offered them a ride home. Yvonne couldn’t believe what she was about to divulge. “If we were to do it, I wouldn’t be drunk. And it sure as hell wouldn’t be a spur of the moment decision.”

  “Fuck, can you imagine it?” Excitement laced Julie’s words. “Three tongues, six boobs, three pussies. Think about it!”

  Her enthusiasm was palpable. “Okay, okay, let me think about it.” Yvonne pursed her lips. She glanced at the ceiling and then back at Julie. “Six arms, six legs, thirty fingers, thirty toes. That’s a lot of body parts to work with.”

  Julie held up her hands. “Ten.” She lowered them and raised them again. “Twenty. Imagine twenty fingers, four hands, caressing your flesh, your breasts.” She slid her hand under Yvonne’s towel. “Your thighs.”

  It sounded hot, but fear held Yvonne back. “What if one of us got jealous or worse, fell for the other person?”

  “Are you saying you’re worried you might fall in love with a third person?”

  “God, no. You’re my world, you get me. You put up with my crappy moods, you know how I like my bread buttered.”

  “And your nipples tweaked.” Julie waggled her eyebrows.

  The truth of her words made Yvonne’s nipples tingle against her damp towel.

  Julie poked her in the side. “How to make you laugh.”

  “Stop.” Yvonne grabbed Julie’s hand, now wasn’t the time for jokes. Feeling silly she lowered her gaze. “I thought you said I was enough for you.”

  “You are.” Julie pushed her chin up and kissed her softly. “I got caught up in the moment.”

  So had Yvonne if she was to be honest with herself. The idea of a threesome both excited and terrified her.

  “Come on.” Julie towed her out of the bathroom. “Let’s go visit Mum.”

  Happy to let the topic drop, yet strangely disappointed, Yvonne followed Julie to their bedroom.

  “I’ll put some makeup on and find something nice to wear.”

  Julie shook her head. “It’s Sunday, Mum won’t care if you’re not dressed to the nines.”

  “I know.” Shirley had never judged Yvonne.

  It was a standard she’d set for herself, thanks to her mother drumming it into her head to always look her best whenever she left home.

  “If we time it right, I might be able to sweet talk Mum into making us pikelets for lunch.”

  The thought of the small pancake treats smothered in butter and strawberry jam made Yvonne’s mouth water.

  She changed into dress slacks, low heeled boots, and a woollen jersey. She met Julie at the front door just as she was putting Ginger out.

  “See why he hates me?” Julie blocked his path with her foot when he tried to dart back inside.

  “Your fault.” Yvonne bent down and coaxed Ginger into the basket on the porch.

  If she had her way, he’d come in and out the cat door, but after the third time they arrived home to a mouse running around the house and she’d acted like a prima donna, standing on a dining room chair, Julie had boarded it up.

  “And why’s it my fault? I didn’t see you offering to catch the mouse.”

  She couldn’t argue with that.

  Chapter 13

  After an interesting weekend, Julie strolled from house to house on autopilot, her mind stuck on their night out. What should’ve been a standard birthday turned out to be so very much more. Brenda was an unexpected addition to their quiet night.

  She hoped the woman didn’t feel like a third wheel. Julie doubted it, although twenty years younger than her and Yvonne, she could clearly hold her own.

  When it came to sex, she’d be the dominant partner, of that Julie had no doubt. A delicious pulse throbbed between her legs when her mind flicked to how hot and horny Yvonne had been that night.

  She’d blamed it on the booze, but it didn’t take a scientist to figure out she’d been just as taken by Brenda as Julie. Not only as a person, but her reason for being at the bar. To meet a lesbian couple.

  Over dinner she’d told them like with anything online, you had to trust your gut. Going so far as to admit that against her better judgement, she’d agreed to meet the no-show couple.

  Julie nodded along, able to relate to some degree. She’d met Sadie via a newspaper ad, long before online dating was a thing.

  They talked on the phone a number of times before their first date. A date with no expectations for the future, but one that kicked off a two year affair nonetheless.

  Arriving at her next address, Julie fiddled with the latch on the small front gate.

  “Let me get that.”

  A gnarled hand reached out making Julie jump. She clutched her chest, trying hard not to curse. The last thing she needed was to frighten Mrs Emmett.

  “You all right, lassie?” At four foot nothing, Julie could just see the tip of her head hidden by a tall letterbox.

  “I’m fine. How are you, Mrs Emmett?” She walked alongside the elderly woman all the way from the letterbox to the doorstep.

  “Same as usual. Getting slow in my old age. Body doesn’t work like it used to.” She clutched the porch rail and dragged herself up the steps as if she was climbing a mountain.

  Afraid of offending the fiercely independent woman, Julie fought back the desire to grab her elbow and help her.

  “Hard to believe I was in the running team at school, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all.” Julie smiled warmly. “I reckon you must’ve worn your legs out running from all the boys.”

  “You’re a sweetie.”

  The smell of mothballs greeted her as she stepped inside. The hallway was dim, all the bedroom doors closed. Probably to keep the heat in but doing a piss poor job. The house was old so more than likely didn’t have much insulation to speak of.

  Squinting, she tried to read the meter but could barely make out the digits on the dials.

  “Would you mind flicking on the light, please, Mrs Emmett?”

  “The darn thing’s blown, and I can’t reach it, even with my foot ladder.”

  The thought of her trying to keep her balance while reaching up to change a lightbulb gave Julie heart palpitations.

  “Mrs Emmett! You could’ve had a fall.”

  “Well, I can’t go phoning my son every time a light goes out.” She pointed to the blown bulb with the bottom of her walking stick.

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Julie said, hoping her mother never felt she couldn’t phone her when she needed help, no matter how trivial it might seem to her.

  “If you have a spare bulb, I can change it for you.”

  “Nonsense. I can’t possibly impose.”

  “It’s not an imposition. I’m offering.”

  Eyeing Julie suspiciously, Mrs Emmett tapped her cane on the floor. “Does that mean you’re going to charge me more, lass?”

  Julie chuckle
d. “No. My services are free.”

  She got paid for the hours she worked, so technically she was being paid to help. The delay meant she’d be a little later home, but she didn’t mind.

  She followed behind Mrs Emmett to the living room. Paintings of horses and hounds covered red and gold wallpaper, and throw rugs littered the hardwood floor.

  “They’re in there.” Using her cane, she pointed to an antique cabinet in the far corner.

  “I’ll get it.” Julie stepped around her.

  “Top drawer.”

  After pushing aside all manner of junk—knitting needles, half empty cotton spools, matches and candles—Julie located two light bulbs. One was 100 watts the other 75 watts.

  “Which one?” She held up both boxes.

  “Whichever one uses less power.”

  Julie put the 100 watt bulb back and shut the drawer.

  Shivering, she glanced around trying to figure out where the draft was coming from.

  “It’s not very warm in here.” She pointed to the heat-pump on the wall above the sofa. “Does that thing work?”

  “Yes, dear. My son had it installed. I told him not to bother, but do you think he’d listen? Oh, no, he thinks his mum’s daft.” She shook her head. “If I had that thing running all day, I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills.”

  It was a story Julie had heard before. People were freezing in their own homes, unable to afford steep electricity prices.

  “Take care, won’t you. I can’t have my favourite customer getting sick.”

  “Don’t you worry about me. I get by just fine.” She pointed to a pair of woollen gloves and a knitted hat sitting on top of a pile of blankets. “Those keep me warm.”

  After changing Mrs Emmett’s lightbulb, and bidding her farewell, Julie’s mind returned to the weekend.

  The sex had been off the charts, like when they were new lovers. She knew the spark of passion would die down over time, but she never wanted the fire to go out. If fantasising about a third person got Yvonne hot and bothered, she was all for it.

  Perhaps it was time to suggest they watch some porn together again, something they both found arousing and could act out.