Read Anything She Wants Online

Authors: Harper Bliss - FF

Tags: #(¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)

Anything She Wants (9 page)

As Pip gathered her senses, Bianca stood up, wiping her mouth which glistened with Pip’s arousal, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
 

“My turn again, I believe,” she said, and reached behind her to open a small drawer, taking out a long, smooth wooden dildo. Pip looked at it in surprise as Bianca presented it to her.
 

She had heard of them. They had come from Italy, so people said, but she had never seen, much less used one. Still, she was confident she knew exactly what to do with it. Lifting it to her mouth, she made eye contact with Bianca as she sucked on it to moisten it, and was rewarded with a gasp from her mistress, who leaned back against the table and parted her legs in readiness.
 

Pip kissed her, tasting her own orgasm on Bianca’s lips, and stroked the dildo between Bianca’s folds and across her clit before circling it around her opening. Bianca was obviously aroused and wet from bringing Pip to orgasm and the dildo slipped inside her easily. Pip dipped it slowly in and out of her, teasing her. She mimicked the motion of the dildo with her tongue, darting it in and out of Bianca’s mouth until she moaned with abandon. Pip pulled back, and when she spoke it was her voice now issuing the commands.

“Turn around.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “Bend over.”

Bianca did as she was bid, spinning around and placing her hands flat on the dresser, leaning over so that her breasts brushed against the table and her buttocks were tilted upwards. Pip plunged the dildo inside Bianca again. She brought one hand down between her legs to rub herself as their eyes met in the mirror. An unspoken agreement passed between them.
 

They may have their roles to play in public, but behind the closed doors of Bianca’s bedchamber, they could indulge in their fantasies with each other.
 

Pip grinned triumphantly as Bianca ground herself to another climax on the wooden dildo. After pulling it out, she lifted it to her mouth and sucked her mistress’ scent off it before kissing her on the lips.

“My turn again,” she whispered, and they smiled at each other. Pip had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Debbie Does Dalhousie

Giselle Renarde

She couldn’t believe this day had really come.

All through his high school years, Debbie had counted the days before she could kick this kid out of the house. Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Ryan really did give her more trouble than any of the other boys. Middle child, always seeking attention. The oldest was coddled, the youngest got away with murder because she was too tired to deal with him, and there was Ryan between the two, always struggling.

Debbie and her ex had been amazed when Ryan got into a good university, and even scored a scholarship that went out to gay creative types. As many grey hairs as he’d given her, Debbie had to admit she admired her son. He was so confident in who he was and what he wanted out of life. Even in middle age, Debbie hadn’t settled on what she wanted. Two ex-husbands in her past, trailing countless jobs and half-completed night courses, she still didn’t know what to set her sights on. It wasn’t quite enough just to be a mom—she’d figured that out years ago—but now that Ryan seemed to have more direction in life than she did, she was starting to feel like a bit of a failure.

“Don’t work too hard,” she told Ryan, not that working too hard was usually a problem for him.
 

“Trust me, I won’t.” He delivered his lines straight-faced, but Debbie was starting to suspect there was more beneath his monotone than he let on. She kissed his greasy hair and looked around his dorm room. It was so tiny. And he had to share this with another boy?
 

“Do you want me to help you unpack?” she asked.

“No, I got it.” He stood in the middle of the room, staring at her as if to say, “Here’s your hat. What’s your hurry?”

“I want you to have fun at university,” Debbie told him. She wished she had better words of wisdom, but nothing else came to mind. “I was engaged to your dad by the time I was your age, and I always wonder what my life would be like if I’d gotten a degree instead of getting married.”

“Mom…” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear about your life.”

“I know, but just… try new things, okay? I’m sure the other moms here tell their kids not to do anything stupid, but trust me, if you don’t do it now, you never will. I’ve always felt like I missed out on something really great by not going to university.”

“So you want to live vicariously through me?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. He plucked his eyebrows, and they looked even better than Debbie’s.

With a smile, Debbie took him in her arms. He squirmed, but she just held on tighter. “Every mother wants her kids to have a better life than she did.”

Ryan stopped struggling. Tears welled in Debbie’s eyes as she felt his hands creeping up her back. He hugged her hard and said, “Thanks.”

If she didn’t leave his room now, she’d end up sleeping on that second bed, whether or not there was another boy in it.

Debbie said her goodbyes in a haze. If it was this hard with Ryan, imagine how she’d feel dropping Aiden off at university! Just the thought of it made her feel faint. She’d be all alone, then. An entire house, and only her. Dinners alone, evenings alone. Forever alone. God, she couldn’t stand the thought. But, then, she couldn’t hold on to her children forever. She had to take care of herself.

Wandering out of Ryan’s residence house, Debbie dropped down on a bench. She’d come in lugging Ryan’s suitcase in one hand and fold-away easel in the other. Now she had only her purse at her side.

Summer hadn’t given up its hold on temperatures. Early September felt like mid-July, and the sun scorched her bare legs. Her boys were always telling her what an embarrassment she was, dressing like a teenager, but so what if she did? These were the clothes she liked: sparkly sneakers and short jersey skirts, tight-fitting hoodies unzipped part way. Debbie had big boobs and she liked showing them off.

“Hey, we’re having a welcome back party! Wanna come?”

Debbie looked up from her sorrow to find three pretty young women staring right at her. A tall girl with gleaming black skin held out a card that stated where and when, but Debbie didn’t know the campus well enough for that to mean anything to her. She also wasn’t quite sure why they were inviting her in the first place. Did they think she was a student?

“A welcome back party?” Debbie asked. “What…?”

“This week’s always about the froshes,” said a girl who must be dripping with sweat in that long black dress. She looked like Wednesday Adams, though she was probably too young to know who that was. “We wanted to have a little get-together for returning students, but we’re having trouble finding any.”

“Yeah, they don’t usually come back to campus until the absolute last minute.” The third, an Asian girl wearing a dress that looked like it belonged on a Swedish Barbie doll, sat on the bench beside Debbie. “Classes don’t start for another week. So far, we’ve only found each other. And you.”

Debbie itched to party with these quirky girls, but she couldn’t lie to them. Anyway, they’d see right through her the second she didn’t know what her major was.

“I’m not a student,” Debbie admitted. “I just dropped my son off, actually. He’ll be going to school here.”

The tall girl’s eyes opened wide. “Wow, you don’t look old enough to have a son in university.”

“Two, actually.” Debbie smiled at the compliment. “My older son’s in his fourth year at Carlton.”

“Wow, he must be the same age as us, then.” The girl in the funny dress beamed. She obviously had no idea how old she was making Debbie feel.

“You can still come to our party,” said Wednesday Adams. “We were just going to get dinner first. Do you like sushi?”

Not even a little bit. But there was a pulse driving her to go along with whatever these girls wanted to do. Debbie had missed out on the university experience. This was her opportunity, right here, right now. She had to go for it.

“I love sushi!” Debbie said, hopping up from the bench.

The girls introduced themselves around their blonde-wood table at the sushi place. The tallest of them was named Alisha, the Asian girl in the Swedish dress was Mimi, and Debbie couldn’t remember the other girl’s name, so she just kept calling her Wednesday. When they talked about their programs, they put Debbie to shame because she didn’t understand a word they were saying. These women were real academics, not just dumb kids spending their parents’ money. Debbie had underestimated them.

“What should we get for dessert?” Debbie asked. “The mango ice cream looks good.”

“The green tea ice cream is better,” Alisha said.

Mimi sunk back in her chair and placed both hands on her belly. “How can you still talk about food? We ate so much!”

Debbie had barely picked at the sushi, though the other girls were talking so much they didn’t seem to notice. “Well, what are we having for snacks at this party?”

The girls looked at each other like they were trying not to laugh.

“Oh, it’s not that kind of party,” Mimi said with a gentle smile.

“It’s not the kind of party that has snacks?” Debbie asked. She was starting to wonder what she’d gotten herself into, if maybe “party” was code for something she couldn’t even fathom. “Then what kind of party is it?”

“This kind,” Alisha said, pointing to the pile of cute, cuddly bunnies on the invitation.

Debbie was starting to feel really dumb now. “I don’t get it. What’s a bunch of rabbits supposed to mean?”

Wednesday leaned across the table. “We all get together and… take off our clothes and…”

“It’s better when there are more people,” Mimi said.

“What? Like an orgy?” Debbie asked, far more loudly than she’d intended. The guys at the next table looked over, and she could only be relieved that Ryan wasn’t among them.

“I guess so,” Alisha answered. “So, are you still in?”

A thick pulse pounded between Debbie’s thighs. Alisha, Mimi, and Wednesday were all very pretty girls, and she’d come here thinking how many experiences she’d missed out on because she hadn’t gone to university. If she said no to this chance, she would always regret it. She knew that.

“I’m in.” Debbie nodded and forced a smile, though she was nervous as hell. “I want this.”

As they walked to Alisha’s dorm, where this so-called “party” was to be held, Wednesday asked, “So, Debbie, have you ever fucked a girl before?”

Debbie’s breath caught in her throat. “Well, I… I…”

“Oh, she has!” Mimi giggled. “Look, she’s blushing!”

“I am not blushing.” Debbie covered her cheeks with both hands. “No, I’ve never fucked a girl. I kissed a girl once…”

“And she liked it!” the girls sang as they hopped down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know, I suppose I did.” Debbie was beginning to feel very flustered, and too old for this. “It was a long time ago. I hardly even remember.”

Wednesday stopped in front of her, face to face, blocking her path. “Then we’ll have to remind you.”

Debbie swallowed hard. Not here, she kept thinking. Don’t kiss me in the street where anyone could see.

Wednesday smiled, almost like she could hear Debbie’s plea. When she turned around and kept walking, Debbie followed along. She was scared as hell, sure, but she wanted this.

Alisha’s dorm room was much larger than Ryan’s, more like a bachelor apartment, and she didn’t share with anyone else. The building seemed pretty much deserted, since older students hadn’t returned to residence yet. When Alisha turned on music with a throbbing bass line, Debbie’s pussy mimicked in beat. Her skin pricked even though the room wasn’t cold. Alisha lit candles while Wednesday pulled the bright blue comforter off the bed and spread it across the floor. Mimi put pillows on top, and Alisha said, “Looks great!”

Debbie nodded. Her body felt frozen. Her nipples peaked so hard they stuck out in front of her. She absently smoothed her hands over the velveteen fabric of her hoodie, and Wednesday laughed when she caught sight of the act. “Need some help over there?”

“Hmm?” Debbie swallowed hard. “You mean… what do you mean?”

With matching smirks on their lips, Wednesday and Mimi approached Debbie slowly. When they were close enough to touch, Wednesday reached for the zipper and pulled it down until Debbie’s hoodie hung open. It was so skin-tight that she hadn’t worn a t-shirt underneath, only a playful bra—bright pink with leopard spots. It made the girls chuckle, but that was fine. She could tell they were salivating over her big breasts, so she pulled the cups down and scooped them out, rolling her hard nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

“Wow,” Mimi said in a whisper.

“Yeah,” Wednesday replied.

Debbie smiled wide. “I know. I’ve got great tits.”

“That’s an understatement.” Alisha stood apart from the three of them, but the look in her eyes was just as hungry as Mimi and Wednesday’s.

“We should all just lick you and love you,” Mimi said. “I mean, since you’ve never done this before. It would be, like, your initiation.”

Wednesday set a warm palm on the bare flesh at Debbie’s side. “Is that what you want?”

Debbie tried to say yes, but the word wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard she forced it. Finally, she just had to nod and let the girls lead her onto the makeshift love arena on the floor. They tore off her shorts and her thong, then pulled away her hoodie and bra. Once she was totally naked, they sat her down on a pillow on top of the comforter.
 

Leaning against the mattress, Debbie watched the girls strip. She hardly knew where to look. Wednesday and Mimi took turns unzipping one another and dropping their dresses to pools at their feet. Wednesday wore a long silk slip underneath, which she struggled out of while Mimi pushed down a pair of ruffled panties and tore off a tight orange camisole. Her body was supremely lean, almost androgynous, with tiny breasts and a pussy shaved completely bare.

Wednesday had more of a natural look to her nudity—her bush was intact, like a dark puffball at the apex of her thighs. Her skin was pale as the moon, her belly round, her breasts large and pendulous with soft pink nipples. Mimi’s tits were different—dark and pointy as pencil erasers.

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