Girl Fever (25 page)

Greg backed up. “Sorry, sis. Didn't mean to interrupt your…” His eyes widened. “This wasn't just sex, it was an orgy!”

“It's a bunch of stuff we got sent accidentally,” Renee said hastily. “We don't use it.”

“So you're just accidentally having sex with a dog toy?”

“What?”

“That thing in your lap. I bought one for Arnie's dog just last week.” His face puckered. “Oh, god. Arnie!” He ran from the room.

“I hope they make up soon. That is going to get really old really quick,” Cat said.

Renee picked up the plush object and squeezed one end. It made a loud squeak. “It really is a dog toy.”

Her lover handed her the yellow towel. “What should we do with all this stuff? The packing slip says they don't accept returns.”

Renee tossed the squeaky dog toy to Jake. “Here, boy.”

“And the rest? The maid outfit, and—”

Renee shrugged. “Give it to Greg. Maybe it'll cheer him up.”

“Brilliant.” Cat laughed. “If a tiara and a Jesus dildo can't take his mind of Arnie, nothing will.”

 

 

 

 

 

M
ina was not the type to easily endure a month without sex. That's how long I'd been in New York for work when she decided to join me for a little vacation time. She'd chosen to travel by train to amuse herself while she waited for my negotiations to close. I wasn't there when they met, but I can just imagine how it happened. Mina boarded that train thinking about me and growing more aroused as each mile flew by.

The Woman actually looked quite a bit like me. I suppose I should take that as a compliment. Mina is a dream bottom, and I don't doubt the Woman sniffed her out right away. I'll bet the Woman spent the better part of the day arranging their ‘coincidental' crossing of paths with lots of meaningful glances and a little well-placed flattery. I'm sure Mina started thinking the
Woman would do nicely to take the edge off.

What Mina didn't know was that I had finished my negotiations early and boarded the train to surprise her. By the time I spotted her, we were just fifteen minutes from our destination. I was just in time to see her being led by the hand down the narrow aisle ahead of me, and into the Woman's sleeper. The Woman must have been awfully excited because she forgot to lock the door.

I slipped in too, just a minute behind them. The Woman hadn't wasted any time. Mina was on the small bed, bare-assed, pants still around one ankle. The Woman was off to one side, hurriedly harnessing her cock. Both were shocked, but only one was glad to see me. “Baby!” Mina beamed. “I…” said the Woman, caught between outrage at the intrusion and panic at a confrontation with her tryst's lover.

“You,” I pointed a finger at her chest, “will sit down and shut up, or I'll have you arrested for trying to fuck a married woman.” This was a ridiculous threat but if you'd heard the way I delivered it you'd at least half believe I could do it. In any case, she sank to the floor, frowning in silence.

“And
you
.” I turned toward my girl, still lying on her stomach on the bed with her gorgeous ass begging for attention. “I've got a question for
you
.” I put my hand to my crotch, silently thankful I'd decided to pack and be ready for anything. “Whose cock do you
really
want?”

“I want yours, baby. Always, yours.”

“Then how about we show this amateur what it takes to satisfy a world-class bottom?” In response, she rose onto her knees, lifting her ass and offering me everything. It was a glorious sight. I unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped in a flash and pulled out my perfectly curved cock. She let out a little moan of anticipation and wiggled her hips just a little.

I knelt behind her, one arm circling her waist, the other hand guiding my cock into her. She took it right in and I had to smile to myself at how wet she was already. I grasped her firmly by the hips and began to fuck her. I knew I didn't have much time, but I forced myself to start with slow, firm strokes at first, stoking her arousal. Soon enough I was slamming her ass and she had to cry out at the intensity of the pleasure. She was on the brink, but I wanted the most from every minute. I eased my cock back luxuriously before thrusting it deeply into her again. I leaned over her back and moved my hands to her breasts, squeezing hard. “Tell me it feels good,” I demanded.

“It feels
really
good.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you know how to fuck me.”

It was just what I wanted to hear. I turned to look the Woman in the eyes as I began to pump harder and faster. It was time to close
these
negotiations. I placed my thumb on Mina's sweet back door and began to press rhythmically in time with my thrusting. Soon she was desperate to come for me. The Woman gave in and slid
her hand down her own trousers. I turned my full attention back to Mina and moved my hand around to rub her clit, which was swollen and begging for my touch. Almost immediately she whispered, “Please, please may I come for you?”

“Yes, right now,” I said, with a note of triumph in my voice the Woman was sure to catch.

Mina came beautifully. She rocked and moaned and pushed back onto my cock. I stayed inside her, thrusting slowly through all the aftershocks, despite the slowing of the train and the announcements that we'd be disembarking in minutes. I gradually withdrew my cock and moved off the bed. “Time to get dressed, my love,” I said in a tone that told her we wouldn't be the last ones off the train. She dressed in a flash. I stared down the Woman, her lips now a telltale red, while zipping, buttoning and buckling myself. “Thanks for the bed,” I offered coolly. “I thought I was going to have to fuck her crammed in with a toilet.” And with that, we made our escape, unable to keep the smirks off our faces as I led Mina off the train.

We went directly to my hotel room. I'm sure Mina expected round two, but I intended to provide an opportunity for a little further reflection on her prior lack of patience. I took her up to the room, undressed her, and moved her to lie stomach-down on the bed. I sat beside her, fully clothed, and slid one bent leg under her hips to raise her ass. She gave a small moan of anticipation, knowing what was next. I turned her ass a lovely shade
of pink with the firmest spanking she'd had in some time. Usually this was a prelude to a good hard fuck. “This time,” I whispered into her ear, “you're going to wait for it. Get dressed. We're going to dinner.”

She wasn't in a position to argue, and she didn't want to. We'd both get hotter still at dinner, sharing the secret of her still-smarting ass, and knowing I'd fuck her the minute we got back in the room. As I recall, it made for a very hot weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

O
livia Benson is so fucking hot,” I said, moving from the couch to straddle Erica's lap as she sat at her desk and banged away at her laptop intently. Sitting this way, I was able to rub up against the hard ridge of her jeans and still watch the season finale of “Law and Order: SVU.” Perfection.

“Tara! Can't you see I'm busy here? Go watch your stupid show somewhere else. God, haven't you seen every ‘Law and Order' episode ever made?”

She was right. I think I
have
seen every episode. But I was addicted. Great stories ripped from the headlines, celebrity guest stars, twisted endings and the most important element of any good ‘SVU' episode: Olivia Benson.

I know, I know. Every lesbian loves Olivia. What's
not to love? She's beautiful, smart, tough and can fill out a pair of jeans like nobody's business. But I loved Detective Benson for a different reason: she looked just like Erica. Same short, brown hair. Same angular jaw. Same sexy swagger. And the cherry on top—Erica was also a cop. She was my wet dream come true and at the moment that dream was making my nipples harden into painful peaks and my cunt leak onto my thighs.

Erica moved around me to stare at her computer screen and continue typing whatever it was she was typing like I wasn't there. God, she was so sexy, and looking down at her as Benson was interrogating a witness on the TV screen was making me so hot. I smoothed back a lock of Erica's hair from her forehead and planted my lips there, enjoying the smoothness and warmth of her skin. I locked my ankles behind her and slowly shifted forward. The pressure on my clit was intense, and all I wanted to do was ride her like this. My Erica. My detective. It was so delicious to be this close to her, and even though she was trying to cast me aside in favor of her work, my lips made a wet path down the side of her face and locked on to her earlobe.

She paused for a moment, as if she knew where I was going with this, and I giggled as I heard her gasp quietly. And as I bit down, I knew where this was going as well. Though she initially resisted, my detective would ultimately come apart under my interrogation. She'd come apart in waves and I would gladly lap at her skin, at her tits and at her pussy to have her come in my arms.
Better than Olivia, she was my Erica, and as our tongues tangled and our fingers trailed over each other's bodies, I was vaguely aware that I'd just missed the season finale of my favorite show. Oh, well, there'd always be reruns.

 

 

 

 

 

I'm going to be fired. No—first I'm going to be brought up on sexual harassment charges, and then I'm going to be fired. This isn't happening. I close my eyes, trying to keep the panic at bay. I double-check the screen on my phone, but the words are most definitely there. The most epic AutoCorrect fail of all time. How does my phone even
know
the word
cunnilingus?
And
since when does “conference” look like “cunnilingus”? Somewhere, an Apple genius is snickering.

And of course, it's Cris. Not one of the dozen straight women who report to me who would've shared a titter and a conspiratorial,
I wish that hunky new VP would send me messages like that.
No—I'm sending lewd text messages to the only one of my subordinates who's openly gay. And perceptive.

There's a knock at my door.

“Lauren?”

Oh, god. I grab a sheaf of papers and look busy just as the door opens and Cris steps inside. And hot—did I mention she's hot? I cross my legs beneath my desk, a figurative
down
command to my unruly libido, which doesn't even marginally succeed. It's just that, well, now that it's out there, the thought of this strong, stylish woman kneeling between my thighs won't go away. And if I'm being completely honest, it's not the first time it's crossed my mind, either.

She closes the door.

My heart is beating far too fast in my chest, fueled by the twin messages of anticipation and need my body is telegraphing to my brain. I clear my throat; opt for professional: “Cris—thanks for meeting with me. I wanted to talk to you about your cost projections for the next campaign before the meeting.”

There's a beat of silence, then the audible click of the lock being pressed. She crosses the floor with unmistakable purpose, rolling up her sleeves like she's ready to
get down to business. I try another tack.

“Crazy stuff, those iPhones, huh?” I say with a nervous little laugh. But she's around the corner of my desk, spinning my chair so that I'm facing her, effectively trapped by the two strong forearms and very capable looking hands she's got braced on the arms of my chair.

She's going to kiss me, and god help me, I want her to, the heat in her quicksilver gaze turning my insides into a hot, molten mess. And then she does, full sensual lips slanting across mine, tongue stealing into my mouth, laying waste to all my defenses.

“I've been wanting to do that forever.” Her voice is a sexy rasp against my lips, and then she kisses me again, nipping my lower lip with her teeth and drinking in the little gasp that escapes.

Her hands move to my knees, warm and solid, fingertips flirting with the hem of my skirt. I lay my hands on hers, but there's no protest; I want this too badly to stop her. The heat in my cheeks rises with each inch of skin that's exposed, but it pales in comparison to what lies below; the seat of my heat, my want and my need, covered by the flimsy barrier of my sodden panties beneath my bunched-up skirt.

She scents my arousal and drops down to her knees, easing my thighs apart and urging me forward. I'm splayed wide on the edge of my chair, and her lips are wending a wet trail up the sensitive skin on the insides of my thighs. She feels so good—I mean
really
so good—that I think I might come before she even reaches my
cunt. I'm shivery and restless, fingers tunneling through her hair, winding the short, dark waves around my fingers, trying to get her closer. But she won't be rushed, despite my silent urgings, despite the fact that we have to be in a meeting in less than ten minutes.

“Please…” I say, though it doesn't sound like me, this soft little whimper so full of need. Her mouth brushes against my cotton-covered pussy and I've got to bite my lip to keep from crying out.