by John Argus
‘No,’ Leah denied, ‘I… I don’t.’
Sara reached out for her and Leah caught her wrists to block the touch, but the Asian girl immediately drew her arms back, pulling Leah’s hands with them, which she swiftly caught and twisted, and before she realized it Leah found her fingers firmly cupping Sara’s warm breasts, and a shudder ran through her body. She felt a wild thrill of excitement in the pit of her tummy but desperately fought against it and shrank back, falling across the sofa. Sara was instantly upon her, straddling her body, her hands cupping Leah’s head, her body swooping down as she pressed her lips firmly against Leah’s, her tongue thrusting between them. Leah grasped the girl’s shoulders, but instead of pushing her away she squeezed them, then stroked, and despite her shock at the unexpected attack her tongue began to respond, to push back against Sara’s as her body awoke with sexual electricity. She caressed the girl’s smooth back, and melted into the long kiss with passion.
Instinctively Leah’s hands slid down onto the girl’s rounded bottom, kneading her buttocks, pulling her hips to hers. Sara cupped Leah’s breasts, squeezing them through the thin sweater, then gently tugging it out of her trousers and pulling it up. She folded down her bra and cupped her breasts, squeezing them avidly, and then one delicate hand crept down Leah’s belly and managed to edge beneath the waistband of her trousers, into her panties.
She complained weakly as Sara’s fingers found her sex and teased her clitoris.
With her free hand Sara managed to remove Leah’s jacket, lift her sweater up over her head and drop it to the floor, then unclasping the bra she lowered her mouth and suckled her sighing colleague’s nipples. Then her free hand lowered and undid Leah’s trousers. She slid back to kneel on the floor between Leah’s feet, pulling the trousers with her, removing them from Leah’s long legs and discarding them on the floor beside her. Then she leant forward between Leah’s legs, gripping her thighs strongly, forcing them back and further apart as she mouthed her sex through her black thong, her tongue lapping across the silk.
‘S-Sara,’ Leah gasped, but the Asian girl ignored her, removing the thong and squeezing her face tight between her thighs again. Leah was overwhelmed with longing as she felt the girl’s delicate mouth against her sex, as silken hair caressed her thighs.
Then Sara unexpectedly drew back, leaving Leah feeling cold and empty. Sara stood and went to the small desk just behind her, lifting a pair of handcuffs from one draw and turning, breathless, her eyes wild. ‘Put these on me,’ she demanded, her voice husky. She passed them to Leah, then turned and crossed her wrists together behind her back.
This was madness, Leah thought dreamily. They were supposed to be working, investigating a very serious case. But at that moment she didn’t care. She rose to her feet, took the handcuffs, appreciating the feel of the smooth metal like she never had before, then gripped one of the Asian girl’s slender wrists and snapped the cold steel around it. She felt Sara shudder, then took her other wrist, drawing it to the first, slipped the unyielding steel bracelet around it and clicked it locked.
Sara’s arms pulled against the cuffs, then she turned, her breasts rising and falling rapidly, and sank to her knees before Leah. She leaned close again and Leah, in an increasing daze, reached down to run her fingers through the girl’s silky hair, and sighed as she felt Sara’s tongue slide between her sex lips, and could barely manage a coherent thought as she gripped the girl’s pigtails, parted her feet a little more and ground herself against the pretty face between her thighs.
She’d never had any kind of a sexual relationship with another woman and never, until meeting Mbweni, seriously considered one. But now, with barely a doubt in her mind, she pressed the young Asian girl’s face to her and moaned with pleasure as her tongue lapped her bare slit. ‘Oh, yes,’ she gasped in a choked voice.
Her hips rolled, grinding, her head lolling back. She tugged on the girl’s pigtails, her knuckles white against the soft black hair as she forced the kneeling girl to greater efforts, felt the wet tongue sliding between the lips of her sex and flitting against the entrance to her vagina. ‘Yes…’ she whispered, her head back, her body straining, her legs apart as she drew the girl closer still.
She pulled on her hair, as if trying to draw the young Asian as tight to herself as she could, yet Sara made no complaint, licking and sucking her labia, then thrusting her tongue deep into her quivering pussy, and Leah’s legs turned to rubber and she slumped back down onto the sofa behind her.
Sara fell with her, her mouth locked to her sex, and Leah sobbed with joy, her body writhing in helpless passion. Her legs lifted and wrapped around the girl’s slight body as an orgasm flooded her and she began to shudder uncontrollably.
Then Sara was upon her, her soft flesh molding against Leah as they kissed, sucking and licking, their tongues dancing hungrily together. Leah rolled over on top of the handcuffed girl, nibbling the nape of her neck, then down to her breasts.
Breathless, she ran her hands over the other girl’s breasts, swooning at her rigid nipples. She ran her fingers across them, and then bent and kissed them, sucking and licking, gently nipping with her teeth as Sara moaned and shuddered. Her hands moved adoringly up and down Sara’s lithe body, and her thoughts swirled as she sifted through the differences between caressing a man and a woman.
Sara was soft, of course, her unblemished skin hairless, without the hard tendons and muscles a man possesses. Leah’s hands followed the contours of the Asian girl’s lovely body, reveling in the smooth curves of her breasts and hips, the sweep of her trim waist, then gliding down between her thighs where, with barely a hint of hesitation, she palmed and squeezed the girl’s pussy before rubbing her fingers against the wet lips.
‘No, wait,’ the girl moaned. ‘Wait, please.’ Leah released the nipple from her mouth and watched the girl look to the side. She followed her stare but didn’t understand her meaning. ‘In the desk drawer, please,’ Sara begged.
Leah shakily got to her feet and crossed the floor. She opened the top drawer of the desk and saw a black dildo attached to straps lying within. Shocked, but wickedly excited, she turned to see Sara watching her. The girl looked oddly anxious and wary, yet at the same time afire with excitement.
‘Use on me,’ she whispered, ‘please.’
Leah hesitated a moment, but then put the unfamiliar device on, drawing the straps up between her thighs and round her hips, then, a little dazed but wildly aroused, she gripped the dildo in one hand.
‘Please use on me,’ Sara pleaded again, and despite her indecision about whether she wanted or should take this step, Leah simply couldn’t resist her.
She moved back to where the handcuffed girl lay on the sofa, and Sara spread her legs, drawing her knees back. Leah knelt on the sofa and gripped the thick plastic cock, rubbing it up and down against the moist opening of the girl’s pussy.
‘Hard,’ Sara whispered. ‘Use on me hard as you can. Use me like a whore.’
A shudder ran through her, and Leah pressed the nose of the thing down harder, feeling Sara’s soft flesh give way before it, feeling some resistance as she dipped it in and pulled back, then pressed in deeper.
‘Fuck me,’ Sara implored, her passionate voice cracking slightly as she stared up at the lovely girl leaning over her, and Leah sank the dildo deeper and the girl gave a gasp of pleasurable discomfort.
‘Are you okay?’ Leah whispered.
‘Harder, please,’ Sara beseeched.
Leah drew back and thrust in, putting her hands down against the back of Sara’s legs, forcing them down with her weight as she held herself above the slighter girl. She lowered her hips and Sara writhed as the dildo sank into her body.
‘Are you okay?’ Leah whispered.
‘Yes, fuck me,’ Sara responded breathlessly, and Leah did, instinctively settling into a rhythm, her taut buttocks lifting and sin
king repeatedly, the supine girl’s juices squelching audibly around the stout plastic length as it filled her cunt. Leah thrust deep and the girl cried out for more, Leah experiencing an intense sense of power and strength, wondering if this was how men felt when lovemaking.
Then she felt Sara’s body begin to quiver and twist beneath her, and felt her own orgasm beginning to approach, gasping in time to Sara’s gasps, and the two of them locked together in a massive climax, their bodies and voices joining in a chorus of mutual bliss.
Much of the rest of the morning was a blur of exquisite sex. Leah lay sprawled back on the sofa, her mind floating amid a sea of pleasure, pleasure which rolled over her in waves as Sara knelt between her legs, gently coaxing her through climax after climax.
Then in the shower later, their bodies slick with soap, they again enjoyed each other intimately. And then afterwards, both feeling replete and pleasantly drained, Sara seemed bashful, more than a little awkward and embarrassed and eager to be dressed and out of her apartment.
They drove in silence to the first address on their list and Leah gradually felt ashamed of herself as well, feeling a sense of disbelief at what they’d done together, and her annoyance with herself and her confusion instilled in her a short temper with the men she interviewed, especially whenever they cast a lecherous eye at her lovely Asian colleague.
Chapter Five
Perhaps it was the bright light of the shop’s fitting room, for Leah gazed at herself in the mirror and was filled with a sense of wicked excitement and shocked disbelief that she was actually considering buying, much less wearing the dress in public.
A week earlier she’d never have considered wearing such a garment. It was made of a shiny gray lycra, very tight across her breasts with a plunging cleavage line revealing the firm inner slopes of her breasts, and two thin halter straps. The hemline was very short, the skirt split almost to the hip on one side. It was a very sexy dress, as thin as silk and molded to her curvaceous figure. It was a dress for a sexy girl to go clubbing in, a girl who wanted to be seen, to be lusted after, to be desired.
And that had never before been Leah. Like all girls she liked attracting men’s approval, appreciated and was flattered by male interest, when it wasn’t unwanted or made too obvious. But she didn’t like to be stared at or drooled over.
And if there was such a thing as ‘fuck me’ shoes, then the silver-gray five-inch heels she wore were they.
Leah’s hands moved slowly up and down her body as she stared at herself in the mirror, transfixed. What would they think of her at the station if she showed up dressed like this?
Her fingers slid up through her hair. She was hot; she looked hot, and seductive. Any man would want her. She reached behind her neck and undid the halter string there, then eased the mini-dress down over her hips, stepping out of it, naked.
It had been a long and strange day, and she tried not to dwell on what had happened between her and Sara. She felt embarrassed every time she did, but worse than that, she felt a shameful excitement, too, which she tried to shy away from.
She thought back to the afternoon, to the eyes of the men she had interviewed, to the way they looked at Sara, their lusting so obvious to her that she wanted to slap them. And Sara basking in it, so smug as she played up to them, as she teased them with suggestive words and poses, pretending ignorance of the slavering eyes upon her. Leah had felt such strong urges to admonish the flirty little tramp, or even to take the little bitch across her lap and spank her bottom for her. She didn’t, or course, but at one point as they left one building she did surreptitiously slap her bottom hard enough to make the girl yelp indignantly and blush, looking around hastily to make certain no one had observed the little chastisement.
Leah had to go and see Morales again, but she couldn’t do so with such an intense sexual need still gripping her, or the meeting would surely end in only one way – and she didn’t want to risk letting her defenses down like that again. She had been so stupid before and the thought of what might have happened to her was terrifying.
Having bought the dress she dropped the box containing it into the trunk of her car and drove home. She was not very hungry, but she put a readymade dinner for one in the microwave anyway. She went to her bedroom and crawled fluidly onto the bed for a few minutes, just to rest and have a little quiet time to herself.
The microwave pinged and her dinner was ready, so she sighed and slipped off the bed, returning to the kitchen. She took the dinner out and spooned it onto a plate, fetched utensils and condiments, then sat at the table and ate, without too much enthusiasm, feeling almost grateful when the phone rang and she had an excuse to eat no more of the convenient but dull meal.
‘Hello?’ she said into the receiver.
‘Detective MacInnes,’ a familiar male voice stated.
‘Lieutenant Bradfield?’
‘You did not file your report on your interviews today, detective,’ he said irritably. ‘There’s a high degree of pressure on this case. Perhaps you missed that point.’
She sat back on the sofa. ‘Sorry, I apologize, lieutenant,’ she said. ‘I thought Detective Yi was doing that.’
‘Well she didn’t,’ he snapped, ‘and in my opinion the responsibility falls to you, detective.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, lieutenant,’ she said again. ‘But nothing we learned appeared to have any relevance to the case.’
‘You are not the judge of that,’ he said, clearly annoyed. ‘You and your junior colleagues are merely the eyes, the ears and the legs. It is your superiors who are the brains, who piece information together.’
She slumped in frustration on the sofa. ‘Yes, lieutenant, of course, lieutenant,’ she said, her tone and attitude slightly offhand. Miserable old bastard, she thought.
‘I will expect your report first thing in the morning, detective,’ he insisted. ‘And be grateful I don’t order you to come in now and do it.’
‘Yes, lieutenant,’ she said, ‘whatever you say, lieutenant.’
‘Very well,’ he said gruffly, concluding the conversation.
‘And goodbye to you as well, you asshole,’ she said to the dial tone, then she hung up, poking her tongue out at the phone, and standing she went back to her bedroom, lifting her new mini-dress from the box on her bed with intense reverence and awe.
She’d worry about the paperwork later; tonight she needed to release some stress; tonight she was going out for some fun!
Leah moved slowly through the hot club, the thumping bass of the music pounding all around her. People danced, crowds shuffling in the semi-darkness. A male face occasionally caught her gaze, eyes brightening until she moved on. She dodged a stumbling pair of laughing drunks, and then sidled through a group of men standing near the bar, looking for a drink.
The sensual fabric of the dress caressed her upper thighs, the slit up the side taunting ogling eyes as it opened and closed as she moved. Women gazed at her, assessing, comparing, sometimes intrigued, sometimes disapproving. Men stared, smiling appreciatively, licking lips, narrowing eyes, wanting her, commenting to each other as they eyed her, their lurid desires transmitted so obviously to her, what they wanted to do to her, what they wanted her to do to them. And she felt deliciously cruel, for she silently promised them the fulfillment of their desires, but she would give them nothing but a tantalizing vision to remember and regret never possessing. And it was desperately exciting to behave in such a provocative, seductive manner, as if something long forbidden were now freed from societal and professional disapproval.
At the bar a man bought her a drink, leering, eyes filled with hunger for her. She chatted idly, demurely, gazing about, feeling his hand sliding down her arm to her hip, then round to cup her bottom. With an alluring smile she slipped away from him, moving further along the bar.
A hand caught her wrist and guided her away from th
e bar a little. He was tall and arrogant looking, his face filled with smug self-assurance as he held her hips, walking backwards into the midst of the heaving, dancing throng. Normally she’d have reacted and had him on his knees in a flash, gasping in pain and begging for release. But now she followed obediently, her mind drifting a little, waiting to see what happened.
She began to dance with him, and that frenetic energy which had filled her body and mind for the past week surged to the fore as she rolled her hips and moved to the music. Her experience with Sara was still heavy on her mind. She had allowed herself to be seduced by the girl, right out of the blue. It wasn’t as if she could excuse herself to giving in after a long period of flirting and coaxing by the lovely Asian. It just happened and Leah allowed and savored it. She’d just melted, and she was doing the same now, without a thought for the consequences, knowing she might let this stranger do anything he wanted to her.
What she’d done with Sara and what she might do later this evening was too much like what she’d felt with Morales, and too much like the bizarre dream she’d had about being tied and fucked from behind by some phantom on her balcony. And with Sara it had happened with someone she knew, someone she worked with. She didn’t try to explain Sara’s own conduct; Sara was a wild child and she knew that. But understanding why she had given in to her was much more troubling. She was going to have to confront Morales, because somehow, in some way she couldn’t understand, he was responsible for the way she was behaving.
She brushed aside the thought that what she was wearing was a part of her strangely changed behavior. The hem of the short dress swayed seductively around her thighs as she swung her hips, and her swollen nipples strained against the tight clutch of the thin lycra, her breasts moving freely beneath it as she twisted and writhed to the rhythms of the music, and she was intensely aware of wearing nothing beneath. Nothing. And that thought did not petrify her as it would have not so long ago. But she did feel deliciously anxious every time she raised and entwined her arms above her head and felt the hem rise too, giving her a heady sense of danger. She’d never been an exhibitionist, but now the thought of strangers glimpsing more of her than perhaps they should only helped raise the heat of her desire. She felt wild and wanton, and it wasn’t so much a matter of whether she would let someone from the club fuck her, but who, and how wickedly exciting that felt.
