Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia (20 page)

BOOK: Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia
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Late the next morning, Porsche, Veronica, and Betty sat around the kitchen table arguing about where the car might be. They played Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would have to take the keys and go downtown on a treasure car hunt. Betty lost the game and left to find the Audi before it got towed or vandalized

if it hadn’t been
already.

Porsche took the opportunity, alone with Veronica, to plant the “I’ll move in here” seed. She arranged her face in a concerned, near tears way and waited.

“Man, we need more Talking Rain and ... ” Veronica turned and stopped talking when she saw Porsche’s face. “What’s the matter, booboo kitty?”

“I ... it’s ... I’m getting kicked out of my apartment!” Porsche said and began to sob.

“What the hell happened?”

“Well, it’s a sublet, and it’s a friend of a friend’s place since I lost my own condo. Well, anyway, the friend’s friend is coming back ... into the country ... he was in Tanzania, or somewhere, and the assignment ended early, or something ... it’s ... I can’t remember. They’re being vague with me, vague about everything, except for the fact that I am out on my ass by end of the week. Where am I going to find a studio, or a loft or something, in a week? And, something I can afford after all my financial setbacks? I’m fucked.”

“Well, don’t worry about it now. Betty and I will help you find something. You go on, now, and we’ll call you later. Something will come up, don’t worry.”

Porsche had been hoping for something a little more along the lines of “Move in here!” She got up and gathered her stuff together, throwing the demolished jeans into the garbage and rooting around in Betty’s closet for something to wear. She found a pair of Roberto Cavalli
bling
jeans and pulled them on. She decided to find another shirt to wear too, since she’d sweated up the Gaultier T, and chose a black Givenchy
Brooch Tank
with the tags still on it.

She also found a twenty-dollar bill lying on the floor of the closet and stuffed it into the pocket of the borrowed jeans just as Veronica came into the room.

“I’m going to go beat the pavement and look for a place! I’m not going to let this get me down!” Porsche said gaily.

“Good for you, Boo!”

Porsche left and hailed a cab. She went across town near her apartment, found a cafe, and settled in with an espresso to people-watch out the window.

Veronica grabbed her cell as soon as Porsche was gone.

“Baby!”

“Hey, Sweetcheeks, how would you feel about a new roommate-fuckbuddy?”

“OK, um…I love the idea!”

“She’s getting kicked out the end of this week. Shall we empty out the guest room closet and invite Porsche to join us?”

“Definitely! Honey, do they make a three-way dildo?”

 

Veronica called Porsche and invited her to come live with them. Porsche smiled like the Cheshire cat as she hung up the phone. She ordered another espresso to celebrate her good fortune.

 

“Well, I think this is going to take more than one trip,” Veronica stated as she shoved another Versace bag into the trunk of the Audi.

The three women had met to gather up Porsche’s stuff.

“Alice, you have more clothes than Veronica and I do combined! And good taste, too.”

“Thank you,” Porsche said and curtsied. “How about if I stay with the rest of the bags while you take this load back to the apartment? Does that work?”

“That’ll work. We’ll see you in a few!”

Porsche sat on the front steps of her building and pondered how she was going to explain the Porsche/Alice thing should the need arise.

Why’d I have to go use a fake name, anyway? Well, I know why. The original plan was a one-nighter where I’d make some money and never see them again. Who knew it would become, like, a three-way couple thing?

Veronica returned and she and Porsche finished loading up the car’s trunk and back seat with the rest of the luggage, then headed for the apartment.

Betty was at the door waiting, and Veronica gently pushed Porsche forward into the apartment. Hanging across the archway between the kitchen and the living room was a handmade
WELCOME HOME, ALICE!
 banner.

“Oooh, that’s so sweet! Thank you both. I don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.”

“Group hug!”

The three women hugged each other, then Veronica went into the kitchen. A moment later, Porsche and Betty heard the sound of a champagne cork hitting the ceiling.

“Celebrate good times, come on!” Veronica sang as she came into the room with two glasses and handed them off to Betty and Porsche. Then she scooted back into the kitchen and returned with her own glass and the bottle.

“Al, we are thrilled to have you here. It’s going to be so much fun!” Betty trilled.

They drank champagne and yakked for a while about how the dishwasher worked, but not with hot water

only with cold. The girls had learned to live with that. If you barfed, you had to clean it up within eight hours or it started to smell bad. You couldn’t bring someone over without prior approval. Coffee, sparkling water, and booze always had to be in the house, so if you used the last of any of these you were responsible for getting to the store to re-supply. There was a credit card on the counter for this purpose.

“Now, Al, honey, don’t worry about not having any money. We have money. We just want you to be happy, and we want to enjoy you and have you enjoy us. Take your time finding another job. We just love having you here,” Betty said.

“And we love sucking those titties and fucking you anywhere and everywhere,” Veronica added, taking a sip of her champagne and licking her lips. “You were amazing the other night.”

“I loved seeing that red dildo sliding in and out of your ass, I must say,” Betty offered.

“Fuck me silly, and I hope I have the opportunity to fuck the two of you that way too.”

Betty leaned in and kissed Porsche deeply. “Oh, baby, yes. I want that too.”

Veronica grinned. “Her ass isn’t as willing as yours is though. We’ve been using a little bitty butt plug and she still bitches that it hurts!”

“Well, we’ll have to work on that, won’t we?” Porsche declared, and all three girls giggled and swigged champagne until the bottle was gone. Then Betty ran to the kitchen for another bottle and Porsche realized the day would be spent drinking and fucking.

The life of the idle rich ... I think I can get used to this!

As the second bottle of champagne was killed, Betty pulled her top up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her pert little nipples stood up in the air-conditioned room. Veronica followed suit, pulling off her tank top, then unsnapping her bra to free her 38C’s. Her dragon tattoo seemed to writhe around her pierced nips. Porsche peeled her Thakoon cinched dress up over her head and tossed it across the room. She looked hot as hell in her Kiki de Montparnasse
Cage
bra and undies.

Veronica leaned over and unsnapped the bra pulling it away from Porsche’s perfect tits and throwing it in the direction the dress had sailed. “Beautiful,” she murmured as she cupped Porsche’s breasts in her hands. “Most beautiful I’ve seen.”

Betty gave a little pout at that and Veronica leaned over and kissed her deeply as she continued to cup Porsche’s breasts, giving them a little squeeze.

Betty kissed Veronica back and scooted closer to her. “Lick my titties, baby.”

Veronica turned to Betty and began sucking and licking her tits, biting gently on the soft round mounds, licking gently on the nipples, then flicking her tongue over them more roughly, getting excited by the way they protruded, standing in a grand ovation. Veronica pulled Betty to her. Betty pushed up her skirt and straddled Veronica’s lap, shoving her breasts into Veronica’s waiting mouth, moving, from side to side, so that Veronica’s lips and tongue and teeth could sample both lovely tits equally.

Porsche sat on the couch watching. Her pussy swelled and her panties felt wet. She came up behind Betty, reached around, and took hold of her tits. She offered them up to Veronica, her hands gripping Betty’s boobs with Betty’s nipples each peeping out between her first and second finger of each hand. Veronica licked and sucked the offered nipples and the fingers that surrounded them.

Porsche ground herself against Betty’s backside. Veronica reached between Betty’s legs to the crotch of Porsche’s panties, her fingers searching for an entry point to Porsche’s cunt. Porsche pulled back slightly, letting go of Betty’s tits long enough to yank down and step out of her panties. Porsche rubbed herself up against Betty again, cupping her breasts once more, kneading the nipples. An ambulance, its siren blaring, screamed by outside. None of the girls heard it.

Veronica’s hand went to Betty first, rubbing the little panties until they were sopping; then Veronica meandered back to Porsche’s crotch, her hand pushing apart the lips. Porsche pushed her exposed clit against Betty’s bare flesh. She rocked up and down, side to side, and the friction on her clit was
delicious
. Veronica returned her attentions to Betty, reaching into her panties, fondling the soft mound. She continued to lick Betty’s nipples as her fingers found their way into her pussy and she fucked her girlfriend slowly with her finger as her thumb came up and bumped against her clit.

Betty moaned. Veronica increased the pressure on her clit and slid her finger in and out a little faster. Betty twisted her head around, her mouth seeking Porsche’s. “Kiss me, kiss me,” she begged.

Porsche’s tongue entered Betty’s open mouth filling it, their lips coming together, both girls pushing hard into the other. Veronica’s mouth continued to work Betty’s titties mashing the nipples into her breasts with her hard tongue, flicking them, then biting gently, her fingers working their magic on her cunt. Betty came hard. She pitched forward against Veronica, then back against Porsche. Porsche worked her hips frantically, pushing her clit into Betty’s ass crack as she felt herself coming too. They fell shattered onto the couch.

Veronica grabbed the champagne bottle and poured the last few drops down her throat, she turned to the lump of ladies on the couch and said, “My turn.”

 

 31

 

S
OPHIA MET EDNA FOR LUNCH.
She wore her Narciso Rodriguez
Colorblock
dress, the geometric white rectangle at the front and back intersected by a thick black line all the way around

so retro, so Fellini. Her feet were encased in vintage black-and-white suede cocktail heels. Underneath the dress, she wore yellow La Perla. She’d gotten a Jas MB black
Amy
shoulder bag—its cute little triangular shape a nice compliment to the lines of the dress —and hadn’t had the chance to use it, until today. She looked marvelous and felt even better.

“Well, don’t you look delicious!”

“Thanks, Edna. I love this dress and these shoes and this bag! I’m just in love with myself today.”

“Good for you! Is there an occasion or just an ‘I-feel-pretty-oh
-
so-pretty’ day?”

“No, nothing special. I just feel ... like myself again.”

“Well, if that doesn’t call for an early martini nothing does.” Edna waved the waiter over.

They chitchatted over their martinis and a calamari appetizer before Edna said, “I have big news.”

“You wait until we’re nearly done with the appetizer to divulge this?”

“Well, it is good news, but you aren’t going to like it.”

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