Girl Fever (16 page)

“Nope! We totally have time, and we only need wineglasses on the table. It'll take about five seconds.” At this
point, Cam was calling out from the bedroom. She emerged a moment later with a prominent bulge in her pants.

“Sweetie, I really don't think there's time.” But Belinda couldn't help but look at the bulge. She loved the way Cam fucked her. In their four years together, Cam had explored each and every nerve, every crevice and curve of Belinda's body, and knew how to touch each spot in endless combinations to make her come.

Cam pressed herself up against Belinda. She was whipping the egg whites more slowly than before, and they were still pretty egg-whitey.

“Keep going. You'll kill me if you get too distracted and don't get that finished. So you have to keep going, or I won't be able to fuck you.”

“Okay, but I still can't believe that we have enough time.”

“Just trust me.”

Cam reached under Belinda's skirt and ran her fingers up to her inner thighs. As her hand worked its way up, Cam realized that Belinda wasn't wearing any underwear. June Cleaver probably didn't do that at dinner parties. Belinda leaned back as Cam started rubbing her clit. She was already getting wet. Cam was working her magic.

Belinda kept beating the meringue. Cam unzipped her pants and pulled out her cock, still rubbing Belinda. She dipped her fingers into Belinda's pussy, feeling how slick she was. Although she'd fucked her hundreds of times, every time Cam felt how wet Belinda was, it still made her knees weak.

Her fingers slid in quickly, going in even deeper and faster than she had intended. Belinda was so wet and ready that her pussy practically swallowed them. She moaned and put both hands on the counter.

“No, no, don't stop. This will only work if you can keep getting everything ready. I'm going to fuck you hard, just the way you like. I'm going to slip my dick into you, and rub your clit, and make you come, hard, but I don't want to keep you from finishing dinner. So just keep doing what you're doing.”

“Oh, fuck, Cam. I'll try. Just do it, now. They're going to be here soon.”

“Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you now.” Cam slid her cock suddenly into Belinda, and both of them moaned. Both of them loved that first moment when Cam's cock slipped into Belinda's pussy. Belinda loved suddenly feeling all filled up. Cam loved that feeling of pushing into her for the first time, feeling the head of her cock pop into Belinda.

She started to slowly slide in and out. Belinda moaned but continued whisking the egg whites, which by this time were starting to look like maybe they would be done by the time Jen and Nancy arrived.

“Oh, Cam, faster. Fuck me faster.” Cam wrapped her arms around Belinda, holding her up as the cock started sliding in and out faster, Belinda's tits bouncing. Cam was surprised to feel her own orgasm building already. Usually it took her a while to catch up to Belinda. But this time, she could feel the base of the cock pressing into her
clit with every thrust and feel the particular inner warmth of a strong orgasm starting to roar up from her depths.

“Oh, Bea, I'm going to come. Soon. I want you to come with me. Don't worry about the damn eggs, just focus on my cock. Come with me, baby.”

Belinda gasped and pressed back into her, shoving the bowl away from her and bracing herself against the counter. Now that Belinda could hold herself up, Cam moved her hands—one up to Bea's breasts, and one down to her clit. She fucked fiercely, feeling each stroke hard against her clit. Belinda's moans were getting louder and the pauses between them were narrowing. Belinda was about to come, too.

Cam let go, fucking fucking fucking as an orgasm tore through her, rising from deep within her belly, fiery heat spreading through her chest and rocketing out of her in a long, low moan. Belinda grabbed Cam's hand and clamped down with her fingers and her cunt, and she came inwardly, with a quiet gasp.

They took a few moments to catch their breath. Cam eased slowly out and kissed her neck. Belinda was the first to get back on track, looking up at the clock.

“One minute. We have
one
minute. Go, go!”

But before either of them could do anything, the doorbell rang. Cam glanced at Belinda, braced for a panicked-hostess outburst. But Belinda just smiled and adjusted her apron. No doubt about it; Cam definitely loved her housewifey ways.

 

 

 

 

 

A
n explosive chorus of drunken, hyperaroused catcalls startled the crowd as I followed Madison into the private rooms. A quick glance back at the rowdy celebrants thronged around our table made me flush hotly, and their vulgar suggestions increased. I quickened my steps. Madison had already reached the doorway and held the curtain aside for me. With an amused smile, she nodded me through before pulling it closed behind us.

Inside the private rooms, the lights were much dimmer. I could make out bodies moving near the doorway, and they caught my interest, but Madison's light touch on the small of my back snapped my focus back to her.

Madison took the lead and guided me to a secluded
love seat in a small alcove. She sat down and patted the cushion next to her.

“Have a seat.” Her throaty voice made my pulse skip. “We have a few minutes 'til the next song starts.”

I nodded and dropped down onto the worn fabric. The loud music that thundered in the main room didn't carry fully into this private area. In our small hideaway, only the steady beats of the bass found us. My nerves hummed a loud chorus in my ears.

As Madison leaned forward to adjust her sheer thigh-high stockings, my eyes were drawn instantly into the deep valley between her large breasts. My heartbeat surged in nervous anticipation, and, despite my inhibitions, I couldn't look away.

The pulsing baseline was beginning to fade out—but my pulse was still pounding fiercely—when Madison, satisfied at last with the high cut of her hosiery and the low cut of her blouse, turned her full attention on me.

“Big group you're here with. Any special occasion?” she asked with a smile, her tone coaxing out my confidence while her hands slowly began to coax open the buttons of her blouse.

I welcomed the conversation eagerly. It gave me something to focus my thoughts on besides her swift fingers.

“A birthday. Two actually—mine and another coworker's. He thought it'd be fun to celebrate here for a bit before going to a club,” I explained.

“Oh?” Her fingers paused and her smile brightened
in the dark alcove. “And when he left to get a dance, I'm guessing someone thought it would be fun to buy one for you too, right?”

My reluctant smile answered hers. “Does that happen a lot?”

“You'd be surprised. Most of the female customers that come here do get roped into it like that, though. It turns guys on to think of their sisters and wives getting it on with strippers, I guess.” The corners of her glossy lips twitched upward, teasing me.

Flustered, I dropped my gaze to my lap while I tried to think of a response. As my silence stretched out, Madison lowered her hands onto the couch, slid her body closer across the seat, and asked in a hot-breathed whisper, “Does it turn
you
on?”

I stared at my clenched hands while my face flushed. My white knuckles were probably the only part of my body that wasn't burning bright red. Feeling overexposed, I avoided her curious gaze as I admitted in a hoarse whisper, “I-I've always been curious.”

She rose to her feet and moved her lips, but her reply was drowned out by a crescendo of heavy beats as the current song climaxed.

The next song slid in with long, drawn-out notes. In front of me, Madison's hips caught the rhythm and began to sway slowly. Her hands returned to her blouse. I watched as, with each steady beat, another button was pulled free. My breath caught when she released the final one and pulled the garment off. Under the white
blouse, her breasts were round and firm. She rubbed her nipples between her thumbs and index fingers until the nubs hardened into rosy peaks, then, sliding her palms under the heavy breasts, she then lifted them up and pressed them together with an inviting look in her eyes.

The provocative display aroused me more and more. I licked my lips slowly and shifted in my seat as the music's tempo increased. Madison's hands were on the waist of her pleated skirt now. An approving gasp escaped my parted lips as she sensuously rolled her hips and let the garment fall to the floor.

She was naked underneath. Her smooth, firm body wearing only sheer knee-high nylons made me ache with a desire I rarely allowed myself to indulge. My gaze followed the roundness of her breasts and the curve of her hips down to the nude swell of her privates. Unconsciously, I moved my right hand to my crotch as I felt my own pussy grow wet at the sight.

Madison noticed the gesture immediately. Slapping my hand aside, she straddled my legs and pressed her hot body flush against mine.

“You're here to touch me, not yourself,” she admonished with a sharp thrust of her pelvis. I gasped in surprised pleasure at the hard friction. Encouraged, she leaned back in my lap, jutting her pelvis forward and tilting it up to give me a titillating peek between the swollen lips of her vagina.

My hands tightened around her waist, then her
thighs. They itched to slide inward, but I hesitated. “I'm not sure how to touch you,” I admitted apologetically.

“Is this your first time?” She gave another hard thrust of her hips. Her tone was casual, in keeping with the club, but her serious eyes suggested something much more intimate.

I nodded.

She responded by reaching up to slip the straps of my dress over my shoulders. My lace bra was pushed down to my waist next, and then—with my small breasts exposed and the nipples stiffly aroused—she cupped my left breast with one hand and used her other to catch my wrist and raise my hand to gently cup her right breast as well. Pausing a moment to catch my eye, she released my wrist and began to trail her free hand down my soft stomach while her left hand gently massaged my breast.

After a moment's hesitation, I followed her example, mirroring her moves. Together, we gently penetrated one another. I tensed up as she slipped two fingers past my panties and between the lips of my pussy, but when I shyly breached her privates in exchange, the silky wetness that surrounded my fingertip immediately made me grow moist and receptive to Madison's explorations.

I didn't last long. Under the experienced thrusts and strokes of her fingers, my pussy swelled and my body shuddered with new sensations. Madison was breathing heavily and I hoped my own unsure reciprocations had
pleased her, but I couldn't catch enough breath to ask.

As the song faded out, giving way to the next, I sagged back into the love seat, both exhausted and exhilarated. Madison dropped down beside me.

“One more song?” she coaxed in a breathless whisper.

“At least…”

 

 

 

 

 

M
ina was up to no good.

Mischief radiated from every pore in her body as she sauntered into the room. Our eyes met, hers determined and mine terrified. Then she smirked.

When Mina smirked, I was in trouble.

Just to cement my foreboding, she lifted the hem of her dress until I could see her cunt.

Before my eyes could focus on anything other than her hairless lips, she winked and walked away.

I started after her, determined to stop whatever harebrained scheme she had cooked up, but my supervisor, Tom, stepped squarely in my path.

“Any problems, Gibson?”

“No.” Unless you count the Wandering Flasher walking around. “All well on this front.” I tried to peer
around his body, but the man was built like a tank. A big, hulking, girlfriend-blocking tank.

“The boys downstairs expected some trouble for the opening, but as I told them, we didn't have issues with last month's exhibit and this one isn't nearly as popular.” He chuckled as he bounced on his feet. “Still, a little overtime never hurt anyone.”

“No, not at all.” I pushed past him, but Mina was gone. Dammit. “Excuse me, I need to find someone.”

I ran through the foyer, causing the artist to look up in disapproval. Thanks to Mina, my job was flashing before my eyes: watching the exhibits, writing reports, joking with the guys on break—okay, fine, it wasn't perfect, but it was steady and paid well and…dammit where was Mina?

I skidded to a stop as I caught sight of her. It was no wonder I'd missed her; she was almost hidden in the corner staring up at one of the sculptures.

Mina turned as I scuttled down the row of chairs. She watched me, and, almost dreamily, her arm swung out and hit the exhibit behind her.

It seemed to take forever for the pieces to fall, but finally they landed with a clatter that hurt my ears.
Everyone went silent, and then the artist ran over, wailing with rage.

Several guards quickly surrounded Mina, but she looked unfazed and merely batted her large brown eyes at Tom. “Sorry, officer, I don't know what happened.”

Tom grunted, unmoved. “Ma'am, you need to come with me.”

“Are you going to arrest me, officer?”