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  “How’s that?” she asked, her lips hovering against Caitlyn’s clit, her breath warm against it as she spoke.

  “Perfect,” Caitlyn answered, rocking her hips slowly at Traci. “Just don’t stop.”

  She reached down and slid her fingers through Traci’s hair, gently urging her to get back to work.

  Traci nibbled Caitlyn’s clit, then she slid her tongue back into Caitlyn’s pussy and fucked her with it.

  “You’re making me come,” Caitlyn panted. “Don’t stop.”

  She pushed her pussy against Traci’s face, rolling side to side as her orgasm swept through her. Her muscles tightened as she reached the apex. She clamped her thighs around Traci’s head, holding her in place as she shuddered with release.

  They lay together afterward, working on the second bottle of wine. Caitlyn rolled onto her side, facing Traci, her head propped in her hand. She took a drink of wine and handed the bottle to Traci, who was leaning against the headboard of the bed.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Caitlyn said, getting up on her knees as she took the wine bottle from Traci and set it on the dresser beside the bed. “Let’s bump monkeys.”

  Traci laughed hard. “What the hell is bumping monkeys?”

  “You’ve never heard of that? It’s a lesbian thing. It’s when two girls grind their pussies together.”

  “Oh my God, that’s hilarious,” Traci said, still laughing.

  Her laughter was contagious. Caitlyn laughed with her, and soon they were both laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.

  “Okay,” Traci said, trying to pull on a serious face. “let’s bump monkeys.”

  The laughter came again, just as hard as before. It was several minutes before they were able to keep straight faces and talk again.

  “Don’t say it,” Traci said. “Let’s just do it.”

  A long moment passed where they fought the urge to laugh anyway. They struggled to keep it together.

  “Okay,” Traci said, putting on a serious face, “How do we do it?”

  “We lay down and, you know, just sort of scissor each other,” Caitlyn explained.

  “Oh, you’re an expert?” Traci said, teasing her.

  “No, I just know that’s how lesbians do it.”

  They lay facing each other, legs scissored, coming together until they were pussy to pussy. They shifted and squirmed until their clits bumped and rubbed together, causing them to moan with satisfaction.

  They began grinding, thrusting their hips, rubbing their pussies together. The room became silent except for the long, low moans, the soft panting, and the rhythmic squeak of mattress springs.

  They worked their pelvises in slow, grinding circles…

  “God, that feels good,” Caitlyn moaned.

  Their taut bellies undulated with the effort…

  “I’m about to come,” Traci panted.

  They slammed their pussies together, filling the room with the soft, rhythmic slap of their bodies in their frenzied pursuit of Sapphic pleasure.

  “I’m coming,” Traci said, her breath coming in short, panting gasps.

  “Ohhhh, yeahhh,” Caitlyn said, moaning as she pressed her pussy against Traci’s and grinded back and forth.

  They locked their legs tight around each other, humping and rubbing their slick cunts together as they came. Hot moans and heavy panting filled the room as they reached the peak of their orgasms together.

  They clung to each other for a while, basking in the afterglow of the best sex either could remember having had in a long time. Their bodies, slick with perspiration, slipped together. Their breasts flattened between them, hard nipples against hard nipples.

  They shared a deep kiss, their tongues exploring one another’s mouth, and then they rolled apart, each of them flushed with and fully satiated.

  “I didn’t expect this to be so fun,” Caitlyn said.

  “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

  “Now comes the tricky part,” Caitlyn said. “I have to tell my husband.”

  * * * *

  They were sitting on the couch together, snuggled up, watching TV. Caitlyn wore a short negligee and panties. Mike was in his boxers.

  She slid a hand down the front of his boxers and fondled his cock until he got hard, which didn’t take long.

  “Honey, I have a question,” she said.

  “Hmm?”

  His eyes were closed and he was enjoying the attention she gave his cock.

  “Would it be cheating if I had sex with another woman?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Would I be cheating on you if I did it with another woman?”

  “Well, yeah, technically it would,” he said. “Cheating’s cheating.”

  She jerked his cock faster.

  “Would it be grounds for divorce?” she asked.

  “I guess in a court of law, but I wouldn’t divorce you over it,” he said.

  She continued to masturbate him as she told him what had happened between her and Traci. By the time she finished her confession, Mike had a real mess in his boxers. She took her hand out and licked her fingers clean, then she leaned up and gave him a long, deep kiss.

  “You wanna watch us?” she asked.

  “Hell yes…”

  She called Traci and invited her over, explaining the situation to her on the phone and asking her to stop on the way and pick up a special toy.

  Traci arrived half an hour later, the special toy tucked away inside a bag.

  Caitlyn fixed drinks for the three of them, then she and Traci sat together on the couch and started making out.

  Mike sat in a recliner, sipping his drink with one hand, stroking his dick through his boxers with the other.

  “Am I going to get to join in?” he asked.

  “Un- ungh,” Caitlyn said.

  She raised up on her knees, pulled her negligee off, and pushed her soft tits at Traci, who lifted them to her mouth one at a time to suck the swollen nipples.

  Mike reached down into his boxers and stroked his cock.

  Caitlyn pulled her tits away from Traci. She lay back on the couch, lifted her ass off the cushions, and slid her panties down. With one foot on the floor and her other legs resting on the back of the couch, she was wide open.

  “Eat me,” she said, sliding one hand between her legs and spreading the lips of her pussy with two fingers.

  Traci turned on the couch, directing her ass in Mike’s direction as she lowered her head between Caitlyn’s legs and started licking her pussy.

  “Yeahhhh,” Caitlyn moaned, pumping her hips in wild abandon.

  Traci whipped her tongue up and down the length of Caitlyn’s pink slit a few times before settling on her clit. She teased the smooth little button with quick strokes of her tongue, then she hooked her lips around it and sucked hard, pulling it deep into her mouth.

  Traci raised up and undid the buttons on her blouse. She slipped it from her shoulders and took it off, tossing it aside, then she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders.

  Caitlyn slid her hands up and cupped Traci’s small tits, giving them a gentle squeeze, then she rolled the taut nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. She sucked one of Traci’s nipples, then moved to the next, flicking it with her tongue before taking it into her mouth.

  “Take off your pants,” Caitlyn said.

  Traci lay back on the couch, kicking her shoes off as she unbuttoned her jeans. She pushed her jeans down to her knees, then Caitlyn took over, pulling them the rest of the way off. She took Traci’s panties off next, tossing them across the room to Mike.

  “You can play with those,” she said.

  She settled between Traci’s legs and started eating her pussy. Her tongue darted in and out of Traci, around her clit, over the slippery pink folds of her inner lips. She stuck a finger into Traci’s cunt and fucked her with it as she sucked her clit. It wasn’t long before Traci was moaning and pushing herself against Caitlyn�
�s face, right on the verge of coming.

  Caitlyn suddenly stopped and sat up, leaving Traci with her hips pumping at the empty space recently occupied by Caitlyn.

  “Let’s try the toy,” Caitlyn said.

  The bag sat on the floor, right next to the couch. Traci reached down and stuck her hand into the bag, bringing out a long, thick rubber dildo attached to a harness. She turned and looked into the bag, reaching in again, bringing out a small bottle of lubricant.

  Caitlyn took the dildo and strapped it on. Traci opened the bottle of lubricant, squirted some in the palm of her hand, and smeared it up and down the full length of the dildo, working her fist on it as if she were massaging a real cock.

  “You wanna see me fuck her?” Caitlyn asked Mike, who now had his boxers down far enough to expose his hard-on.

  He was stroking himself with one hand. With his other hand, he held Traci’s panties to his face so he could sniff them.

  Traci turned around and got on all fours, facing the end of the couch, resting her weight on the arm of the couch. In this position, she could watch Mike jack off while Caitlyn fucked her.

  Caitlyn got on her knees behind Traci, stroking the dildo as she eased it into Traci’s slippery pink pussy.

  “Ohhhh, yeahhhhh, fuck me,” Traci groaned. “Give it to me hard.”

  Caitlyn held Traci by her hips, squeezing her tight, and began to pump the thick rubber cock in and out. Traci’s pussy lips split wide, her pink hole stretched around the dildo, clinging to every thrust.

  Mike wrapped his cock in Traci’s panties and jerked off with them. He looked directly into her eyes, holding her gaze, watching her face as Caitlyn gave it to her from behind.

  “Oh yeah, fuck me,” she panted, rocking her ass on the dildo as it plunged in and out of her. “Make me come…”

  Caitlyn reached around and under Traci to play rub her clit.

  Traci threw her head back, mouth open, gasping as her orgasm took over, shaking her body with its intensity. She cried out in pleasure, panting and gasping, grinding back against Caitlyn, pushing her pussy all the way down on the dildo.

  She finally collapsed, falling across the arm of the couch. The dildo slipped out of her pussy, bobbing in the air, slick with her juices.

  “Bravo,” Mike said, clapping and whistling.

  Traci turned over, looking up at Caitlyn. She ran her hand down between her legs, over her pussy, and jumped. She was still a little sensitive down there.

  Caitlyn unhooked the harness and handed the strap-on over to Traci.

  “My turn,” she said, lying back on the couch.

  Traci strapped on the harness and climbed on top of Caitlyn, situating herself between Caitlyn’s legs, guiding the dildo inside her.

  Mike was still jerking off with Traci’s panties.

  Caitlyn wrapped her legs around Traci’s waist, pulling Traci toward her, taking the full length of the dildo into her pussy.

  Traci pumped her hips, fucking Caitlyn with long, deep strokes. It wasn’t long before Caitlyn was breathing hard and gasping, hanging on to Traci’s ass and thrashing her hips as she reached her own climax.

  Traci collapsed on top of Caitlyn, kissing her hard on the mouth. Both of them were out of breath and temporarily spent.

  Mike, still stroking his cock with Traci’s panties, went over to stand beside the couch. The girls looked up at him, smiling.

  “Any chance I can buy a ticket on the next ride?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Caitlyn said. “This ride’s for girls only.”

  “Yeah, girls only,” Traci said.

  He stood looking down at him, his cock waving in the wind, throbbing and in need of a little release. Caitlyn and Traci exchanged a quick look between them, then Caitlyn said, “Okay, maybe just a blow job.”

  He grinned. That was enough for him.

  Traci reached up and took hold of his cock, pulling on it as she sat up and leaned forward to take it in her mouth.

  Caitlyn joined her, running her tongue along his shaft as she tugged his boxers down to his feet. He stepped out of them and the two girls took turns sucking his cock, passing it back and forth, one sucking and licking his balls while the other took his dick down her throat.

  “Girls…” he said, moaning as both of them ran their tongues around the head of his cock while Caitlyn stroked his shaft and Traci squeezed his balls.

  “You like that?” Caitlyn asked in a soft, seductive voice.

  “Hell yes…”

  They attacked his cock from both sides, running their tongues along the length of his dick from top to bottom, meeting again at the tip.

  “Shit, I’m going to come,” he said.

  Traci pushed his cock at Caitlyn, who took it in her mouth and sucked hard, making loud gulping noises as she swallowed. Her fist slid up and down his shaft as she jerked all but the last few drops of his cum into her mouth, which she shared with Traci in a long, deep kiss.

  “Okay,” Caitlyn said, slapping her husband playfully on his leg. “Now that you’ve had your fun, you need to give us girls a little time alone.”

  “Right,” Traci added, looking at Caitlyn with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “It’s monkey-bumping time.”

  Caitlyn and Traci broke into a fit of laughter.

  Mike understood the joke. “If your monkeys get hungry for another banana,” he said, “I’ll be in the living room.”

  He shut the door on his way out and stood listening as the rambunctious laughter in the bedroom gave way to soft moans…

  Confessions of a Heel

  We were born in the 1940s, black leather with velvet etchings, custom made for the wife of a mob boss. She bought us (we were still a pair then) for three hundred dollars-a lot of smackola in those days, believe me, but this dame only bought the best.

  Molly McGreer.

  Great gams, delicate feet, and cheeky enough to make it.

  The boss was always away on mob business, usually banging some other dame, but that was okay by Molly. She preferred women. In particular, a busty blonde named Candy. The two of them logged lots of hours together, using my six-inch tapered heel in some very creative ways. Insertion was the key word.

  Then Molly was caught in the act. She left the marriage with one bag. My better half and I ended up in there, along with some lingerie and a few pieces of jewelry she was able to smuggle out.

  Molly did okay after that. Married a nice guy, had a daughter, and stored us away in a dark closet.

  Her daughter Shelly wore us to her high school prom. This was the 1950s, when rock ’n’ roll was young and those awful saddle shoes were the rage. A girl wears a pair of stilettos to her prom, you can bet she turns a few heads.

  She lost her virginity in the back of a ’55 Chevy that night, windows fogged up, her legs in the air, her prom dress around her waist, and yours truly on one foot, my partner on the other.

  Shelly kept us through the 60s. Flower power and peace. We were at Woodstock. Great music, lots of free love. Oh, the free love. Orgies, women with women, guys with guys, everybody fucking everybody.

  Shelly tuned out like most kids in the 60s. By the time she tuned in again, she had a daughter of her own, sold us at a yard sale, and settled into suburban life.

  Our new owner, Chet, took us through the 70s, using us in a campy burlesque act. We drew huge crowds. We had the fever, baby. We were stayin’ alive. Forget Travolta were the superstars.

  Chet’s act gave out in the early 80s. Bummer, dude. He passed us on to a bubbly blonde, Bambi (can you believe that shit?), who made it big in video porn. She wore us one time, left us on the set, and we ended up props in the biggest porn adventures of the decade. Blondes with big hair doing unnatural things with unnaturally hung studs, brunettes with big tits and puffy nipples, whips and handcuffs, and, of course, stiletto heels…

  My better half and I got split up in the 90s. I’ve been sitting here in this attic ever since, thinking about the glory days. Now and then some pervert comes up
and sticks his cock in me for a cheap thrill, but I don’t mind. It beats being alone all the time…

  Cupid’s Confession (The Little Prick with the Big Bow)

  I’m pissed. Can ya blame me? I mean, come on, think about it, pal. I spend all my time gettin’ people together, and what do I get for my trouble? I get to run around naked with my little dick swingin’ in the wind, I got wings like a fairy, and I get to watch all the couples I hooked up bangin’ their brains out.

  That’s right, I said watch.

  Do I ever get invited to join in? Not even once. Not one damn time has anybody ever said, “Hey, Cupe, wanna get yourself a piece of the action?” Where’s the fuckin’ gratitude? No, this business ain’t all glamour. In fact, I ain’t seen glamour since I wiped my ass with the cover of the magazine back in ’96.

  There’s benefits that go along with the job, sure. I can’t be seen by anybody, so I can pretty much go where I want to, and since I dig watchin’, I always got the best seat in the house. I can sit right up on stage in the best strip joints in the world, so close to the pussy I can smell it, and tug on my little dick all night long while I watch naked babes strut their stuff.

  I can’t touch, though. That’s one of the rules of the job. No touching the mortals. Get as close as you want, but keep your hands (and your dick) away from them, period. It’s in the contract, which, by the way, is in serious need of renegotiation if you ask me.

  Nobody ever does.

  Wait, let me get a beer here. I need a fuckin’ beer. I really do.

  Where was I?

  Oh, yeah, so it’s a hands-off policy. You’re probably wonderin’ why I bitch about not bein’ invited to join in, right? I couldn’t participate anyway, so what’s the big deal if nobody asks?

  Principle, that’s the big deal. So what if I’d have to decline. The point is, nobody ever asks. There’s no appreciation for the work I do, and that bothers me. It really does. I work my little raisins off, and for what? So everybody else gets laid while I stand around with my dick in one hand and a beer in the other.

  You see my work everywhere. I’m a fuckin’ artist. Take, for instance, that ugly porn star still makin’ movies with all the hot young talent. You think he does that on his own? Give me a break. His cock’s big, sure, but that stopped bein’ an attraction a long time ago. Big cocks are a dime a dozen in the porn business, and on better lookin’ men.