Dreams of Darkness. Part 1 — All in the Mind.
By Writer345
2. The Long Tongue of the Law.
I guess that I must have pushed Angie’s plan to the back of my mind for a week or so and life went on. I went to work, I came home and I went to the club that we were both members of: The Fish on a Bicycle in Edgbaston, Birmingham. It’s a well-known lesbian club that you may have heard of.
For the first time since we were kids, Angie and I seemed to be leading separate lives. Hell, she didn’t even come to the club with me. I mentally shrugged: she wasn’t my ‘significant other’ was she? My best mate, yes! My lover or girlfriend, no! Chance would be a fine thing!
I picked a girl up at the club and brought her home for the weekend, which was something that I’d done before. We had both done this loads of times, sometimes together, other times, separately. Casual sex was one of the things that kept us going. Sometimes we even shared the girl, if she was willing, that is.
Well that Friday night’s visit to the club resulted in me getting to know Prita Desai very well indeed. It was about two o’clock on Saturday morning when I showed her into the living room which we had to ourselves. I turned the lights down, selected a romantic track or two on the stereo and opened a bottle of sweet white wine and attempted subtle seduction. It was met with:
“You don’t need to go to all that trouble. I just want you to fuck me!” Spoken with a thick West Bromwich accent—and who says that romance is dead?
She was in her mid-twenties and pretty with bobbed raven-black hair, golden-brown skin and hazel eyes... Remind you of someone? I handed her a glass of wine which she downed in one and asked. “Haven’t you got any beer?”
With a sigh I pushed the cork into the wine bottle and took it back to the kitchen where I exchanged it for an ‘Empress’ Ale (the best Indian beer brewed in Leicester). Needless to say, Prita declined the offer of a glass and drank it straight from the bottle, which she didn’t open with her teeth, although I would not have been surprised if she had.
Okay, she seemed a lot rougher than the women that I normally associate with so I just mentally shrugged, muttered, “Come on then,” and led her upstairs to my room. In the back hall, the light shining from under the door of Angie’s study told me that she was still up. I poked my head around the door and said, “Hi.”
She returned the greeting but didn’t turn away from the computer screen that she was reading.
“This is Prita, she’s spending the weekend with me,” I announced. We tended to inform each other of the presence of ‘house guests’ if only to prevent the shock of chance meetings in the wee small hours on the way to or from the bathroom.
“Hi, Prita, have fun!” Angie answered pleasantly.
Prita glared at me and demanded. “Is she your bint?”
I was surprised by the venom in her tone. “N-no,” I stuttered, “Anjika is my best friend.”
Prita smiled. “Ah!” Then she called over to Angie. “If you want to make it a threesome, I’m game.”
I closed my eyes and felt myself redden, although whether it was embarrassment or temper I don’t know. Needless to say, I hustled her out of the room and into my bedroom. By now it was a toss-up whether she was going to get fucked or strangled. It turned out to be the former...
I had no sooner pushed her through the door into my room when she grabbed me and we kissed. She might be a gobby pain in the arse but Prita was as sexy as hell and without breaking that kiss I managed to manoeuvre us both sideways across the room so that we fell onto my bed. We were both fully dressed at this stage although I had managed to lose a shoe somewhere along the way. The other soon thudded onto the floor to join it.
By now it seemed as if her tongue was half way down my throat: almost as if she was trying to fuck my mouth with it and yes it was a long one! Long enough to do some real good inside either one of my other holes, and if I had my way, that was exactly where it was going.
When the kiss ended I was in my favourite position, on top, sitting on her thighs with a knee on either side. Then when she didn’t object I knew that I had found a sub. Now if I could just get her to keep her trap shut!
I smiled down at her and, in the subdued light, saw her relax. I bent over and kissed the end of her nose and she giggled. So far, so good, I thought as I grasped the hem of her jumper and began to pull it up to expose her breasts, which nestled invitingly inside her sky-blue satin bra. I carried on pulling and she sort of wriggled out of it.
I love breasts, looking at them, feeling them, playing with them, talking about them. I’m so bad that Angie says that I ought to have been a bloke. Yeuch! No thanks! But I do like tits: they don’t have to be big, just a good shape, firm and in proportion with the rest of the girl. Prita’s, to my expert eye, were BB’s, but then she was quite slim so they were just right on her. I worked my hands inside her bra and caressed the softness within: her nipples were like bullets and she sighed when I began to run a finger round one.
I eased the bra up and watched her little mounds flop out and flatten somewhat against her ribs. I rubbed them with my hands and heard her moan again. I hoped that she wasn’t going to be a ‘screamer’ although I knew that I would put up with it if she was.
I leaned in and kissed her, using one hand to grab her hair and control her, while the other carried on fondling her breast. I ground my mouth against hers a little more forcefully this time but she still didn’t object: Ms Desai was definitely a sub.
Next I forced a hand between her thighs and began to stroke her pussy through the satin of her tiny panties. It was a bit of a squeeze as my knees were still clamping her thighs together. I felt her jostle as she tried to open her legs and chuckled as she did so.
I removed my hand and worked it under the elastic that was supposed to hold them up... And, God was she wet? I pulled my hand out and then tasted the earthy-sweetness that coated my fingers: she was clean.
Before I moved off her, I felt her hands explore my D cup breasts through my blouse. “You are a big girl!” She exclaimed as she dug her fingers in.
That was it! I jumped off the bed and got rid of my clothes as fast as I could; blouse, bra, jeans, thong all ended up on the floor. When I looked back, Prita was naked also. We both seemed to have stripped in record time. There was no attempt to tease or to be seductive. We both knew what we wanted and the clothes happened to be in the way, nothing more and nothing less.
I climbed on top of her, my pussy over her face this time. I hadn’t asked if she did oral, or if sixty-nine turned her on... I was the Domme, this was what I wanted and this was what she was going to get. I lowered my slit in the general direction of her mouth and felt her squirm a little and grab my hips as she adjusted her position. Something long, wet and muscular slid across my labia and then was thrust forcefully up inside me like a small dildo. Well I said that she had a long tongue, didn’t I?
When I was satisfied that she knew what she was doing, I ducked down and attacked her slit with my lips, teeth and tongue. And a wonderful slit it was too: I just love a girl who shaves. I want to eat pussy, not hair, and pretty well every other woman I’ve known intimately thinks the same way. As I ran my tongue along its length starting near her arsehole and finishing up on her clit I was rewarded with a low moan of appreciation. It was about now that she began to rock her head backwards and forwards, thrusting that long tongue of hers in and out of my pussy almost as if she was using it as a dildo. Hell! She was using it as a dildo; she was fucking me with it and it was my turn to moan. It was oral, but not as we know it.
I’d met a few girls who could touch the end of their nose with their tongues but Prita was the only one I’d known with a tongue long enough to get way past that and reach the middle of her nose: a tongue long enough to fuck with. When I asked her about it much later, she told me that her tongue had always been a long one but she’d had an accident when she was a kid when the web under it had got cut and that she’d damned well nearly bled to death. The medics had been too busy stemming the blood loss to bother about repairing the damage and as a result she had been left with this truly amazing organ which she eagerly put to good use.
Not only was she thrusting it in and out of my slit but she was also rubbing the underside against my clitty. My God! Within a couple of minutes I felt the first orgasm burn through me. Okay, I was still trying to return the compliment by licking, sucking and nibbling. I even tried motor-boating, but I just couldn’t match her technique. The thrusts that she produced by nodding her head were small compared with those you get from a strap-on because a strap-on just isn’t as versatile as that tongue of hers and just doesn’t get into those little odd places. I gave up counting after I’d cum for the sixth time and at one stage I actually blacked out, such was the affect that she was having on me. Shortly afterwards, while we were lying there in each others’ arms and doing a bit of old-fashioned snogging, I apologised to her for not bringing her off.
“Oh, you did, lover, at least a couple of times, but I guess that you were sort of distracted.” Well that was enough of an understatement to raise a chuckle.
When I’d recovered enough, we had a go at scissoring, which I also love and am quite good at. I just love the feeling produced when two sopping wet pussies grind against each other: it’s fantastic, especially when both girls know what they’re doing and rub their clitties against each others thighs while they grind. You should try it, if you are a girl, that is. If you’re not then I guess you must be used to nature short-changing you by now!
Yep! It was a long night and a busy one what with all of that fantastic licking, sucking, grinding, humping and finger-fucking. By the time we drifted off to sleep my whole room must have stank of wet pussy and female arousal—not that we could smell it. We must have been just as stinky!!
Next morning, or rather early afternoon, we shared a shower, or rather used the one in my bathroom to have sex in. Then, dressed just in our underwear, we wandered down stairs to find some lunch. It was about this time that I asked Prita what she did when she wasn’t fucking.
“Oh, I’m a copper,” she announced in a quiet, matter of fact voice.