Mistaken Identity (Women's Fantasies) (3 page)

Green glowered, reaching forward. “No, I’ll do it.”

She worked the buttons roughly, shoving them through their holes so hard she popped one off. What a stupid thing to worry about, after being kidnapped and cuffed in a dirty motel room.

Green opened her shirt and pushed the silky wet fabric over her shoulders. It hung from her arms, pulling her back. She leaned against the tile, trying not to think about the grime and the mould and god knows what else.

Red approached the shower slowly. He gazed at Brenda’s black bra as shower water coursed into her cleavage. He’d been so controlled before. Now, if she didn’t behave herself, he might pounce.

Handing a fresh bar of soap to Green, he said, “Give her a good wash.”

The naked agent started with herself, drawing circles around her belly. Her golden skin was just gorgeous. And her breasts were so full and spherical, pendulous and perky at the same time. Brenda’s pussy throbbed. She bent forward, falling against Green’s chest, hoping and praying the agent could bear her weight.

“What’s she doing?” Green asked.

Red caught Brenda’s slick arms. “I think she’s after your boobs.”

“I am!” Brenda lapped one nipple and then the other while Red held her up. The strain in her poor shoulders was definitely worth the sensation of Green’s breasts on her tongue. Soft alternated with hard. Soft skin, hard nipples. Such a sweet taste, like fruit. Her skin was magnificent.

“She wants it,” Green said to Red. “You want it, don’t you, Mitzi?”

Brenda nodded. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was consenting to until Red forced her to her knees. Kneeling was easier on her shoulders, but a wall of water met her face as the agent pressed it to Green’s crotch.

Her pussy wasn’t shaved—not completely. A strip of short, dark hair at the front tickled Brenda’s nose as she traced her tongue between Green’s slick folds. Tasted like soap, but Brenda kept licking until it didn’t. She slid her tongue between the agent’s soft, labia, wishing she could use her hands to part them.

Sheets of water tumbled down Green’s front, filling Brenda’s throat, forcing her to spit, swallow, or risk choking. She attacked Green’s clit full-out. She’d never done this before, but her body knew how. Her tongue could lick. That’s all it took. Knowing how to lick, knowing where to focus her energy.

“Holy Jesus,” Green said, grasping Brenda’s wet hair and tugging. “Keep going, Mitzi. I’m gonna come.”

Brenda had never felt so jealous in all her life. And she couldn’t even slap her clit around because her hands were cuffed behind her back. God, she needed an orgasm.

Green stole the spotlight, bucking wildly against Brenda’s face, smashing her juicy cunt at Brenda’s mouth. The girl was relentless, lost in orgasm, pulling Brenda’s hair and shrieking obscenities.

“Give it a rest,” Red gently said to Green. “We don’t want her drowning between your legs.”

Brenda felt both sad and vindicated as he hoisted her to her feet. It wasn’t until his cock whacked her hands that she even realized he was naked. Her heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t swallow. Why did Green’s naked body turn her on, but Red’s scared the hell out of her?

Scared or not, Brenda circled both hands around his swollen shaft and tightened them to fists. “Oh my god.”

“There’s nothing like fucking a freshly-shaved pussy,” he whispered, pulling down the cups of her bra.

Brenda swallowed warm water. She couldn’t open her eyes without wiping them, and she couldn’t wipe them because her hands were secured behind her back. Blindly, she hooked her chin over Green’s shoulder and arched her ass. When her breasts met the soapy incline of Green’s generous swell, her pussy palpitated.

The slippery soap met her thigh while Red thrust in her hands. Brenda loved a good cock. She loved how the outside was so impeccably soft while the inside was hard as anything. A cock was a living contradiction.

“I want your pussy,” Red growled, pushing her hands out of the way.

“Okay,” Brenda gurgled, spitting water down Green’s backside while the spray pummelled her face.

Green traced the soap between Brenda’s legs, brushing just below her shaved pussy lips. Close, but not close enough.

“Please,” Brenda said. “Please touch me.”

“Is that what you want, Mitzi?”

“Yes!”

Mitzi, Brenda, Mother Saint Therese—that girl could call her any damn name in the book as long as she got off.

The soap slid down her hairless mound like it was moving on its own. Brenda had never felt anything so close to her body, so unhindered. It split her lips apart and rubbed the swollen flesh of her pussy, slowly, up and down.

“More,” Brenda moaned, and Red responded with his dick. His cockhead found her slit and opened it, pressing inside, mushrooming between her plump, soapy lips. The suds stung when his cock took them deep inside her body, but the sensation dulled when Green played with her clit.

“Oh god.” Brenda let her head hang over Green’s shoulder, and pressed their tits harder together. “That feels–”

“Good?” Green asked.

“Yeah,” she said, panting as the agent rubbed her throbbing pussy. “Good. So good.”

Her knees buckled, but Red held her upright as he jammed his cock deep in her cunt. “Ooh, that’s hot. Gimme more of that.”

Brenda stood on tiptoes, pushing her chest against Green’s slick tits while opening her pussy to Red’s ready cock. He rammed her. Hard. Hard enough to bang her against Green’s slippery body, nearly knocking all three of them to the bottom of the tub.

But Brenda caught her footing and Green held her upright, and Red drove his dick even harder into her cunt. It panged. It hurt. Enough that she clenched her pussy muscles to keep him in place. Didn’t work, though. He drew back and pushed forward, filling her with cock. Didn’t hurt so much the second time, and she could only thank Green’s sprightly fingers for that. They worked her clit in slick circles, quickening her raging pulse, making her knees shake and her thighs tremble.

“Fingers,” Brenda blurted, spurting water between her lips. Either the shower was cooling off a touch, or her body temperature was on the rise. “Make me come.”

“We’ll make you come,” Red said, holding her hips and ramming her relentlessly.

“More!”

“We’ll give you more, Mitzi.” Green mashed her palm against Brenda’s sensitive, shaved mound. “We’ll give it to you good.”

And then suddenly… wait, what was happening? Her shoulders met Red’s hard chest, and Green’s lips found her mouth. They kissed. Not just a peck. Really kissed.  Her heart raced as their tongues swirling together.  They sucking the air from each other’s lungs.

She’d never kissed another woman. It was everything she’d dreamed, and more.

Brenda melted against Green’s body as Red’s huge hands found her breasts. Squeezed. His smooth thrusts worked up a long-forgotten heat in her belly, driving her closer to orgasm. His pelvis banged against her hands, giving her a jolt, but Green’s busy fingers provided relief beyond measure. Her pussy had swollen to a pulp against the girl’s hand. Together, the agents would bring her to a high she’d never experienced—but she wouldn’t show them her level of arousal, because they’d just hold her back as they’d done before.

Biting her bottom lip, Brenda milked Red’s cock with her pussy muscles. Was he getting as close as she was? Brenda squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of tepid water. It needled her cheeks. As she tried not to breathe it in, Green punished her clit, splaying her outer lips and attacking the inner ones. She stood taller, squeezing her thighs together, trying not to whimper, trying not to scream. Her orgasm swirled in her belly, ready for action.

“Yes!” Brenda cried. She couldn’t keep it in any longer. “God, yes. Fuck me… right there!”

Green pulled her hand away, but Red grabbed her wrist and thrust it against Brenda’s pussy. “Finish her off, Green.”

“No,” she said. “Pull out. She’s in the perfect state for interrogation. She’ll tell us anything.”

“I’ll tell you!” Brenda blurted. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just let me come!”

Green cupped her mound limply, and Brenda did her damnedest to rub off on the meatiest part of the agent’s palm. Red pummelled her from behind, driving her into Green’s hand. Every touch shocked her system. She jolted forward, up, arching, putting a dreadful strain on her shoulders and the hands bound behind her back.

Her body was not her own. It belonged to them. Her cunt was Red’s property. Her clit belonged to Green’s fingers, and her tits to Green’s slick, soapy tits. Their three bodies bounced and grinded upright in the tub. Brenda lost herself in the threesome. For an extended, cloudy moment, she wasn’t even a person anymore. She wasn’t a body. She was just the energy exchanged between a woman and a woman and a man.

Orgasm. Heat. Bliss beyond belief. Shaking and trembling and throbbing and–her heart stopped and she forgot to breathe. Something burst in her, like a popping balloon, and the sensation that soared through her veins was almost a visible phenomenon. She saw it against her closed eyelids, like scintillations, sunlight gleaming off champagne bubbles. Gorgeous.

When Red pulled out, she missed him. Her hands found his cock, and he filled them with cum. Even then, she missed him.

Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees on the tub floor as Green stepped out and turned off the water. Where were they going? Both of them? Racing into the other room…

Ringing in her ears. No, wait—phones. The agents’ phones were ringing. Both at once.

Brenda struggled to regain her breath, alone in the bathroom, hands bound behind her back, wet blouse weighing her wrists down. She hoped they’d come back soon.

And they did, with a key. Red had his trousers on, but no shirt. He leaned across her back to release her wrists while Green towelled off and then collected her clothing from the bathroom floor.

Even when Brenda’s hands were free, she couldn’t move them. They locked back there. “What’s going on?”

“You’re free to go,” Red said, rushing out of the room. Then, as an afterthought, “We’ll have an officer swing by to take you home.”

“Take me…” Brenda smirked. Her husband, no doubt. Maybe Danny would show up in a rented uniform and lift her into his arms like a hero from a blockbuster movie.

Green rushed into the bathroom, wearing a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t Mitzi Antonelli? You could have saved us a hell of a lot of…”

“Green!” Red shouted. “Get dressed. We gotta jet.”

Brenda didn’t understand. Was Mitzi a real person? Seriously—what was going on, here?

The agents paused by the bathroom door. She’d like to think she meant something to them, whoever they were, but she honestly couldn’t read their expressions.

“Bye,” she said, because she really didn’t know what else to say.

They nodded, rather sternly, before leaving the motel room.

Brenda sat in the tub, listening to the motel’s other occupants, shouting, televisions and sex. Lot of sex.

When the feeling returned to her arms, she wrung her sopping blouse over the drain. Her mind felt so foggy. Like she couldn’t distinguish a dream from reality. The towels looked too grotty to touch, but she found an ancient hair dryer in the cupboard under the sink. She escaped into the task of blow-drying her shirt and, by turns, herself.

There were two possibilities. Danny would show up at the door to extend this night of taboo fantasy bliss and she would know this was all a set-up,
or
an actual cop would walk through that door to take her home. Maybe he’d apologize for any inconvenience. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d have his wicked way with her. Maybe there would be two cops, and they’d take turns, or share, or maybe…

Over the deafening hiss of the blow dryer, Brenda heard a knock at the door. When the hinges creaked, she snapped her eyes closed. Her heart beat against her ribs, as if it was hammering its way out. She was too afraid to look.

The End

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Mistaken Identity

Copyright © 201
4  Giselle Renarde

Cover art by  Kayden Mcleod

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen or older.

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