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Two in Vegas

Category: Lesbian Sex
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Jodi and I have been friends all our lives. Growing up, she probably spent as many nights at my house as she did at home. My Mom called Jodi their third daughter. We shared nearly everything from 5th grade on — everything but Jeremy Elder, the biggest hottie in our class.

We fought over Jeremy our senior year, but neither of us ever became his “steady.” Too bad his daddy got him a scholarship at BYU about the time we graduated and then he left town for good. A week later Jodi got snotty and bragged that she had balled Jeremy the night before he left — and he promised to come back for her.

Hah! As it happens, he screwed me in the back seat of the same car the night before he nailed Jodi. And you know what? Yeah, he promised to come back for me, too. You guessed it. He never came back, never called, never even sent a postcard. We were so mad at Jeremy we soon got over being mad at each other.

Among the things Jodi and I shared was a dislike for life in Twin Falls. So it’s kind of funny we were both still in town three years after high school. Oh, I had been to State for two semesters and gotten good grades. But college wasn’t for me — mainly because I had no idea what I wanted to study. I felt like I was wasting Mom’s money, what little there was.

I always thought Jodi was smarter than me, but she never even went to State. Her Dad died when we were 15 and her Mom couldn’t afford to send her to college. She stayed home and worked and took some classes at juco.

There we were. Both 21. Both still living at home. Both working at nothing jobs. There were plenty of guys to be had in Twin Falls, if you were willing to “party,” which meant drinking, toking and — sooner or later — spreading your legs. But most of the guys had no more idea where they were headed than me and Jodi. We weren’t thrilled with the idea of “settling” and having babies in a rented mobile home on the edge of town.

Then one Saturday Jodi slammed open my Mom’s back door to find me making iced tea in the kitchen.

“Get packed,” she said.

“Packed for what?”

“Las Vegas.”

So I packed a couple of bags and we left that same afternoon, driving as far as Salt Lake. I was between guys at the time and Jodi didn’t even bother to call the guy she was dating. A couple of days later we were jammed into a ratty room in a long-stay motel, cooking on a two-burner stove and looking for work.

It’s amazing how fast I got a job cocktailing at a casino on the Strip. What’s more amazing is the costume they had me wear. The first couple of days I felt like a hooker with my boobs hanging out. But I soon got used to the tiny skirt, revealing top and heels. Most people seemed not to notice that I was half-naked, and after awhile I stopped feeling self-conscious. I also learned to use Band-Aids on my nipples to keep them from standing out like bullets in the air-conditioned casino.

Guys hit on me all the time, but I was used to dealing with that. I enjoyed the attention, if I was in a flirty mood, but the other girls told me the score. Nice guys don’t come to Vegas looking for Miss Right. And I learned to call Security if somebody got too obnoxious. I remember one middle-age jerk who did a double-take when he saw me, then ditched his wife somewhere and came back. He didn’t even take off his wedding ring! He must have thought he was such a stunning specimen I’d swoon into his arms. No chance!

Jodi got a job dealing blackjack and our lives settled into a comfortable groove. With our salaries and tips, we were making more money than we could ever hope to make in Twin Falls. We moved to a two-bedroom apartment in a nice complex with a lawn and pool. We fixed up Jodi’s car, bought a stereo, good furniture and even pictures for the walls. I got a set of pots and pans and started COOKING! My Mom would have croaked!

Eventually we got the same nights off and spent a lot of evenings going to movies, shows or just exploring Vegas. What a wild town! We met guys everywhere and rarely had to buy a drink. Jodi was always the one who decided which guys we partied with, and which ones got to stay the night. She’s very picky — says I have no judgment — and she almost never let guys stay over.

“I’m the brains of this outfit,” she would say, “and you’re the tits.”

There’s nothing wrong with Jodi’s boobs. Her 32Bs are beautifully rounded with tiny pink nipples. She’s just sensitive because Jeremy used to call her “Skinny.” I think she looks like a model — pretty, and tall for a girl, with gorgeous, long legs.

I’m the average type. You know, 5-feet-5, 135 pounds, with a bit of an hourglass shape. People are more likely to call me “pretty” than “beautiful.” And my tits ARE pretty good, at least as far as guys are concerned. I wear a 34C.

The good times lasted more than a year. Neither of us wanted to spend our lives in casinos, but the work was easy and the money was good. We shared expenses and always seemed to have plenty left over for clothes, CDs or show tickets. We spent a week in California, once, doing all the tourist stuff. We both dated occasionally, nothing serious, and had friends at work and the complex.

Then disaster struck.

I was leaving work one day, just stepping off the curb, when an idling car slipped into gear and lurched forward. It knocked me down, gave me a concussion and broke my leg. It wasn’t a complicated break, but the pain was pretty bad. I woke up in the ambulance, then passed out again. I woke up the next day with Jodi at my bedside. She was great. She took care of everything, dealt with the doctors, handled the paperwork, made sure I got my medication on time.

When they finally sent me home, Jodi was in charge again. She got me home and settled, cooked, fed me, cleaned, helped me in the bathroom — embarrassing. I leaned on her for everything — a true friend.

My leg continued to heal, but a few days later I woke up feeling hot. I turned up the AC. Jodi left for work and I fell asleep, tossing and turning. I woke in a couple of hours, burning up. The sheets were soaked with sweat. I took some aspirin and that helped. I fell asleep and woke up a few hours later, hot and drenched in sweat again. I took off my clammy nightshirt and took more aspirin.

Jodi called. They wanted her to work a double shift. I told her I was coming down with a cold, but would do fine until she got home. Not.

When Jodi finally got home she found me lying on the sofa, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, shivering and delirious with fever. She dialed 911. I was soon back in the hospital. Pneumonia. For two weeks. When I got home again I had lost 15 pounds and was weak as a kitten. Again the load fell on Jodi. She took great care of me, but her work suffered and she got fired. She wouldn’t have told me, but she had to explain why she was spending all day at home.

A week later I felt strong enough to get out of bed and get myself a glass of water. But when I walked into the living room it was bare! All our furniture was gone, including the stereo, the pictures from the walls and the dining room set. I shouted for Jodi.

“Where’s all our STUFF!” I cried.

She came out of her bedroom, looking haggard.

“It’s gone,” she said, her voice flat, her beautiful blue eyes defeated. “I had to sell everything to pay the bills. We’re broke.”

“Broke?” I was stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I tell you, as sick as you were? And what could you have done, anyway?”

That was our low spot. She helped me back to bed and we laid there, holding each other and crying until we were cried out. Then we took stock. Our rent was paid to the end of the month. We still had our bedroom furniture and clothes, Jodi’s 10-year-old car and half a tank of gas. Our food would stretch for a couple of weeks if we ate pasta twice a day.

“We’re skating on thin ice,” Jodi said wryly. “Keep taking those antibiotics. If you have a relapse we’ll have to sell the car.”

“What about going home,” I asked timidly. She made a face and turned both thumbs emphatically down. I knew her family was a big reason Jodi finally left Twin Falls. They wanted her to marry like her sisters, get religion, have kids. She wanted none of it. Jodi was too much of a free spirit, always going her own way.

Not to mention, Jodi’s father molested her for awhile when she was maybe 13 or 14. She almost never talked about it, but from the little she’s said I don’t think he actually raped her. Bad enough he sat on her bed and fondled her late at night, his fingers squeezing and poking. He choked her when she tried to turn away, so she learned to close her eyes and think of something else.

She finally told her Mom what was happening, but her Dad denied it and her Mom called her a lying slut. Her sisters were older, and had already left home. Then Jodi told a teacher at school. The police talked to her Dad, but didn’t arrest him. He moved out for awhile, then moved back in. He was killed that same year in a one-car rollover out on 93 — drunk as a skunk. Her Mom blamed Jodi for her father’s death, so they weren’t on the best of terms.

My father had died when I was 12. Cancer. After I left home my mother moved in with my sister and her family, struggling to control her diabetes. If we went back to Twin Falls, we’d both be living with married siblings — and probably wind up sleeping on their living room couches. I made a face myself.

“Bad idea.”

“We’ll think of something,” Jodi said determinedly.

Later that day there was a knock on the door. It was our neighbor Jennifer with a pot of homemade soup.

“My GOD, I’ve been worried about you!” Jennifer exclaimed. “How ARE you! Besides thin as a RAIL, I mean! You’re so LUCKY your tits don’t disappear when you lose weight!”

Before I could answer, she noticed the absence of furniture.

“GIRLS! Where are all your THINGS?!”

“Pawn shops or the used furniture store,” Jodi said wearily.

“You poor BABIES! The doctor bills cleaned you out?”

Jodi told the whole story while Jennifer listened closely. Jenn was our best neighbor, always dropping by to give me a cooking tip or advise Jodi on car repairs. She was one of those EMPHATIC people with an opinion on everything, but I loved the positive spin she put on life.

Jenn was also a bit of a mystery. Or maybe not so mysterious after you get to know Vegas. Early on we suspected she was a high-priced call girl. About 30, she lived in the nicest apartment in our complex, though she didn’t seem to have a job. If anybody asked about her work, she laughed and said she was a consultant, but I know she never went to college. Jenn carried a pager and cell phone, even at the pool, and she came and went at all hours, always dressed beautifully.

One day after we’d known her several months, she came over for iced tea. In the course of a long conversation (she loved to talk), she confided that she was, indeed, a fallen woman. Jodi wasn’t even surprised, but there was enough Twin Falls in me to be shocked. Still, I felt more sympathy than outrage.

“Jenn, you don’t have to do that!” I protested. “You’re smart, you could take classes and get a good job!”

“BABY!” she laughed. “I could have a Ph.D and not make the kind of money I’m making. I own part of this apartment complex and I’ve got a six-figure stash in an offshore account. I paid off my mother’s house in Arcata and there’s a shoebox of cash buried in her crawl space. I’ve even got health insurance.”

“But isn’t it … horrible?” I asked.

“Not the way I’ve got things set up,” she asserted. Jodi looked doubtful and I’m sure I did, too.

“Look,” she said, leaning forward. “I got into this because I was desperate, but I’m NOT a victim. This work isn’t for everybody, but I turned it into a good thing for me.

“I figured the agencies make the real money in this business, so I peddled my ass just long enough to start my own agency,” Jenn said. “It was hard at first. Other agencies tried to take me over, but I made sure I was a moving target. My girls stayed with me because I gave them a bigger cut, took care of their health and was really concerned about their safety. And I figured a way to get the police interested in my competitors. Now some of them have left town, the others have backed off, and I’m one of the biggest agencies.”

“Speaking of police?” I prompted.

“The cops know there’s going to be working girls in Vegas,” she explained. “How can there NOT be, with all the men and money coming here? They just want to keep it out of sight and honest. No ripoffs. No unhappy customers.”

“What ABOUT the customers,” Jodi asked.

“They’re just men … or mostly men,” Jenn laughed. “The key thing is to control the situation from the beginning and never give up control. You just have to find out what they want, give it to them and be sweet about it. It’s more an acting job than anything.”

After we knew her secret and didn’t give her the cold shoulder, we were better friends with Jenn than ever, visiting back and forth. She never talked about her business except when Jodi asked questions. But Jodi was always curious about everything.

So it was no great surprise when Jenn pulled out $500 cash and insisted we take it as a gift. Jodi resisted for awhile, but we wound up taking the money.

“Thanks Jenn, this will keep us going for another couple of weeks,” she said. “Now I’ve got to see about finding a cheaper apartment, and getting my job back.”

“I can work, too,” I declared, but Jodi just rolled her eyes and Jenn chuckled.

“Baby, ANYBODY can see you still need more time. A full shift on your feet would put you back in the hospital.” Then she paused thoughtfully, looking from me to Jodi.

“If you two ever want to make good money in a hurry, some of my girls have come up with a good gimmick. They don’t even have to screw the clients!”

That remark was followed by an uncomfortable silence, and Jennifer soon went home.

That night Jodi and I were talking around bedtime when she said, “I wonder what Jennifer meant about that gimmick her girls came up with.”

I had wondered about that comment myself, but didn’t say anything.

The next day, Jennifer helped us get a one bedroom apartment in our complex. I was gaining strength, but was no help moving. Jodi and Jennifer did it all while I slept on Jennifer’s huge, plush couch. And that night we had carry-out at Jennifer’s dining room table.

“What’s that gimmick you were talking about?” Jodi asked.

“Gimmick?” Jennifer said.

“Yeah. The gimmick that lets your girls make tons of money without doing it.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean they didn’t have SEX! I said they didn’t have sex with the CLIENTS!” Jennifer exclaimed.

“Well how does THAT work,” Jodi said, wanting the details.

“It’s great,” Jennifer said. “The girls go to a client’s hotel room and put on a show. Some of my kids do a girl-girl show, some do a girl-boy show and I have a couple who do solos.”

“What do you mean by shows?”

“Two girls, or a girl and a guy, have sex and the client watches. It’s a turn-on, but completely safe. Sometimes it’s several clients. The Japanese especially like to watch in groups. Or it’s a client and his wife. About half want girl-girl shows.”

“And the client pays to just watch?” Jodi asked, amazed.

“Not always,” Jennifer said. “Some clients just watch, most jack off and and some pay extra to join the girls.”


“My girls? NO!” Jennifer laughed. “A couple are bi, but most of my girls are straight. But they like money and they decide how far they’ll go. And for $500 they’re willing to be flexible.”

“Five hundred bucks apiece!” Jodi gasped.

“Well, I charge $500 for a two-girl show and I keep 60 percent for the agency. The girls pay their expenses and split the rest. And they keep all their tips. Tips can be BIG!”

“What expenses?”

“Clothes, toys, cab fare. That’s about it. I make ALL my girls see the doctor once a week and they pay for that, too.”

“What do you mean, clothes and toys?” Jodi said.

Jenn explained how her “employees” designed an act, or several acts, with costumes to match. Sometimes clients asked for a girl and a guy, sometimes for two girls dressed boy-girl. Other times they wanted two girls dressed as men, or both dressed as women.

“But what do they actually DO for the clients,” Jodi insisted.

“The plain fact is,” Jenn said, “the more you do, the more money you make. The wilder the act, the bigger the payoff. Masturbation and straight girl-guy fucking pays the least. But I’ve got a pair of girls who’ve worked together for a year, adding new tricks all the time. They’ve got this VERY hot B&D act that makes ME soak my panties. Last week they cleared $5,000 in three shows!”

Jodi’s eyes bugged out of her head when she heard that! I was wondering what a B&D act was, exactly, but felt a little flushed, myself.

“Nobody would pay $500 to watch some guy boink me,” I muttered.

“We’re not going to split our money with ‘some guy,’ ” Jodi said, looking at me with exasperation. “We’re going to put together an act with the two of us, you and me.”

“HEY! Wait a minute! I’m not having sex for money,” I protested.

“Listen goofy,” said Jodi. “Don’t you see? We can make a month’s rent in a couple of nights of easy work.”

“I could get you started,” Jenn chimed in. “My regulars are always eager for fresh faces.”

They both looked at me. For a fleeting second I wondered if they had cooked this up between them, but I knew Jodi wouldn’t go behind my back. There was a long silence before Jenn told us to think about it and left.

I brought up morality and Jodi argued me down. I brought up legality and Jodi argued me down. I brought up danger and disease and self-respect, and Jodi argued them all down. I could tell she’d been thinking about this for some time.

Finally, three days later, I was reduced to weak protests about my lack of acting ability.

“Listen,” Jodi said. “You won’t HAVE to act. You can just be natural and I’LL do the acting. And we can practice here at home until it feels natural.”

“How is it ever going to feel NATURAL? You don’t know any more about doing it with another girl than I do!” Jodi gave me a long, doubtful look. Finally she said, “Jenn said she’d help us out. She’s our expert. She can tell us what her clients like and how to do it.”

I never really said, ‘Yes,’ but I finally quit saying, ‘No,’ and Jennifer was soon coaching us on costumes and scenarios. But she wouldn’t tell us what to say. I begged her to give me a script, something I could memorize, but she insisted that would ruin the whole thing. I was so afraid of freezing and not being able to talk!

Then we had what Jenn called the walk-through, really a dress rehearsal. I was at our apartment, wearing the dress Jennifer selected. She gave me a tube of lubricant and told me to make sure my pussy was well-prepared. I almost gave up the idea when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror pushing lube up my twat. Instead I hung a towel over the mirror.

Jodi dressed at Jennifer’s apartment … something about a surprise. I was sweating nervously when the doorbell rang. Some surprise! I knew it was Jodi standing there with Jennifer, but nobody else would have known her. She looked like a fresh-faced, young boy in Dockers, loafers and a loose shirt, with her hair cut short and slicked back.

I let them in and Jenn began directing the action. Her scenario wasn’t much different from what happens on a third or fourth date … or at least what guys want to happen on the third or fourth date. There was a little small talk, some awkward hugging, then Jenn told us to kiss and I froze, like I knew I would. Jodi never hesitated. She even touched my lips with her tongue, but retreated when I didn’t open my mouth.

If not frozen, I remained pretty wooden while Jenn walked Jodi through the steps of fondling me through my clothes, undressing me and undressing herself. I think a guy would have paid more attention to my tits. I didn’t feel aroused. I didn’t feel anything except a warm flush of embarrassment and confusion.

I knew Jodi was wearing a dildo, that was pretty obvious. But I was still a little startled when Jodi pushed down her boxer shorts and it popped into view. It looked big and very strange, held onto her womanly hips with various straps. She guided me down on my back on the living room couch, but the spell was broken when she climbed on top, her erect nipples poking through her shirt. I started shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, crossing my arms across my breasts and looking away.

Jodi and Jenn looked concerned, but I closed my legs. There was something too weird about feeling a cock push against my pussy while looking up into my best friend’s face.

Then Jenn suggested doggie style, and that’s what we finally did. I knelt on the floor, my forearms flat on the white berber, while Jodi slowly entered me from behind and began thrusting. It took a long, gasping time before it was inside and I felt my face getting flushed. I didn’t have to look her in the face. Her hands held my hips for leverage and her hips slapped against my ass. But they could have been anybody’s hands and anybody’s hips.

The overwhelming sensation was that big rubber cock sliding in and out, in and out. It was definitely the biggest thing I’d ever had inside me. My pussy really had to stretch to let it in. It made a warm spot, down low in my belly. And I got an occasional zing as my nipples rubbed on the rough carpet.

Jenn coached me into a steadily rising series of grunts and moans. That was easy enough. I did the same thing for Jeremy Elder. He may have been the cutest boy in school, but he didn’t know a thing about making a girl feel good … or didn’t care. In the end, Jodi and I both faked noisy climaxes and she pulled out. Without looking at her, I got up and went to the bathroom for my robe. At least there wasn’t a lot of goo running down my legs.

Jennifer was enthusiastic, giving tips and praising us for our performance, but I couldn’t look at Jodi for a long time.

When we were alone, Jodi asked if she had hurt me. I told her, no, it hadn’t hurt.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” she asked.

I looked at her coldly.

“Like you care,” I said. And I went into the bedroom, closing the door, my face hot with embarrassment. I was confused, even more so since the dildo had begun to feel good stretching me open and sliding inside, stroke after stroke. I laid on my bed for an hour, trying without success to sort things out. My pussy and leg were both a little sore.

Finally I concluded that being mean to Jodi would do nothing but drive away my best friend. She believed we could put on a convincing act and make good money. We needed to survive, and I felt I owed it to her to try. I went into the living room and apologized to a much-relieved Jodi and we fixed dinner. The next morning we did another walk-through. It did seem to get easier and Jenn was very pleased.

“I know this still feels strange,” she said, giving me a hug. “But you guys look VERY hot together. The clients are going to LOVE you! In fact, I’ve got a job lined up tonight if you want it.”

I could tell Jodi was eager to get started, so I agreed even though I felt far from ready. That night, in costume, we drove to a neat, middle-sized house in a Las Vegas suburb.

I was surprised when the door was answered by a cheerful little old man who had to be at least 70. He led us to the living room, introduced his equally cheerful and elderly wife, and offered us drinks. We declined.

“Then you can start whenever you’re ready,” he said eagerly. The old couple were on Jennifer’s list of regulars, so they had already paid by credit card. I grinned when it occurred to me they could be paying for our services with Social Security money.

It was easier than I thought. The old couple sat on a couch facing a large, carpeted space in their living room. Jodi in her preppy clothes began talking to me, kissing and hugging. I was much better at faking that part although my lips remained closed to the occasional touch of Jodi’s tongue. She was getting much better at the foreplay, taking more time and paying much more attention to my ears, neck, breasts. She spent a lot of time behind me, reaching around and stroking my nipples with her fingers, giving an occasional light pinch. That always drives me nuts!

When she got our clothes off, Jodi kissed me again, alternately holding my head in her hands pressing hard, then pulling my hips against hers with both hands on my butt. I felt dizzy and I was dripping sweat. After that it went just like we practiced — the big, rubber phallus sliding and sliding, deep in me. I really got into the moaning and panting at the end, and Jodi sounded like she was exploding. I collapsed forward with the dildo still inside and she rode me down. I felt her hard nipples brushing my sweaty back.

When I glanced at the old couple, they had their arms around each other, kissing excitedly. It was kind of cute. They tipped us $200 and said they’d ask for us again. Jodi was flushed and excited on the way home, pleased with our earnings. We did two more shows that week, one for a middle-aged couple who did everything we did, and one for a single guy in his 50s. He sat there naked, masturbating and moaning so loud I thought he was dying.

After three shows we were rolling in cash. A triumphant Jodi dragged me out for a fancy dinner at the DI. SHE had no doubts. Then a couple of days later Jennifer knocked on our door, more excited than I’ve ever seen her.

A high-roller was in town, she told us excitedly, he wanted a special show and she was putting it together. Things were going so well that Jodi agreed without asking anything about the show but where and when. Late that night we were ushered into the entry hall of what had to be the biggest suite in Vegas.

I wasn’t surprised to see two other couples waiting, both girl-girl pairs dressed boy-girl. Jenn had told us there would be a crowd, and Jodi and I were dressed boy-girl as well. The marble-floored, gilt-mirrored entryway made me nervous. The ceiling seemed a mile high.

“How is this going to work? Is it going to be all of us at once?” I whispered to Jodi. She shrugged, but I could tell she felt nervous, too. Finally Jenn bustled in, looking flustered for the first time since I’d known her.

“Okay girls, here’s the plan,” she said. “You’ll all go in at the same time, introduce yourselves, then Mr. Karasatos will tell you what he wants.”

“Aren’t you going to be there,” I said shakily.

“No, I’ll be waiting outside,” she smiled apologetically, “but here’s the good news.”

She handed us each an envelope. Opening mine I found 10 $100 bills.

“That’s just for showing up!” Jenn said excitedly, and I noticed she was holding an envelope, too. She had us put our envelopes in our purses and leave them on a beautiful gilded side table. “Now get in there and knock their socks off!”

We filed into a huge, sumptuously decorated living room and met Mr. Karasatos. He was short, mostly bald and deeply tanned with strong features. He wore a loose shirt that looked like nubby silk, beautifully tailored slacks and bare feet. He gave a small smile when he introduced himself to each of us and shook hands. His hands felt strong and dry. He led us to the far end of the room where there was a round bed covered with a gleaming white satin sheet. There was no top sheet or bedspread, but a half-dozen satin-cased pillows were scattered around. The bed was brightly lit while the rest of the room was half in shadow.

Just beyond the bed, two steps led up to a raised area where two comfortable, high-backed chairs sat side-by-side.

“Now, ladies,” he said, turning to face us (his accent sounded faintly British). “You are all very beautiful and I am so pleased with Jennifer for bringing you here.”

He did sound sincerely pleased, and very charming.

“I have a plan for this evening. If you follow my plan, there will be some surprises for you, but I know we will all enjoy ourselves. And I believe you will be perfectly satisfied with the envelope you receive.”

Mr. Karasatos paused and looked at us closely, one by one. I dropped my eyes when his gaze got to me. I had the feeling his plan would not follow Jennifer’s standard scenario, and that made me nervous. But Jodi didn’t budge so I stayed put, too.

We had naturally lined up next to our partners facing the gleaming white bed.

“Would all the young gentlemen please take a step forward, then turn and face your partner? Mr. Karasatos asked.

Young gentlemen! I thought, surprised. What young gentlemen? Then I felt like such a dunce when Jodi and the other two girls who were dressed “boy” stepped forward and turned to face us who were dressed “girl.” Jodi smiled at me and I felt myself blushing. I have fair skin that turns rosy red when I blush. And knowing it’s so obvious makes me blush even more. I could feel the warm tingle rising in my face.

I was so preoccupied that I missed the next thing Mr. Karasatos said, but suddenly Jodi was gone and her place was taken by another of the girls dressed “boy.” Confused, I looked and found Jodi was now standing facing the girl to my left.

“I realize that changing partners will add an element of the unknown,” Mr. Karasatos continued. “But I hope to make tonight’s celebration more spontaneous. My wife loves improvisation.”

Wife? I thought. What wife? Puzzled, I glanced at the “boy” who was my new partner and found her staring at me boldly, a hard little smile on her lips. She stepped in line beside me and I realized that I would have to perform on the white satin bed with her, not Jodi. I felt a sudden hollow feeling in my stomach.

My new partner was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, with clunky black boots on her feet. A baseball cap was tipped onto the back of her head. Her blonde hair was cut much shorter than Jodi’s and her substantial breasts were flattened by a sports bra at least a size too small. She had a very attractive face, not a bit masculine, and looked a couple of years older than me. Her arms and shoulders looked strong and smooth, like a swimmer. I smiled at her and she returned a slight smile.

That’s when I noticed two more women entering the room from a side door. The one in front was not only nude but hairless from head to foot! Not even eyebrows. She was the strangest looking girl! No taller than five feet, she was straight, slender and pale, with a beautiful face that reminded me somehow of elves and fairies. Her eyes slanted up at the corners, cat-like, and her wide mouth looked at the point of smiling. She was nearly flat, but large, dark nipples stood out high on her chest. The bare mound where her legs joined was divided by a delicate slit. She seemed young, but I couldn’t tell her age.

I was still gawking at the hairless girl when the woman behind her caught my eye. Nearly six feet tall, she was dressed in a white silk nightgown with a wide lace hem that flowed around her ankles and along the carpet behind her. A loose coat of matching white silk hung from her shoulders to her hips. Her light olive complexion was complemented by a thick, springy mane of black hair that spread over her broad shoulders. More handsome than pretty, her thick eyebrows, straight nose and strong chin, gave her the look of a Greek goddess. The girl stopped beside the chairs on the upper level, but the woman walked down the steps to stand beside Mr. Karasatos.

“Here they are, Catherine, aren’t they beautiful,” he said. Her eyes swept down the line, lingering briefly on our faces. She turned and smiled at him.

“They ARE beautiful, sweetheart. Have you explained things?” He nodded. “Then let’s begin.”

Mr. Karasatos led his wife up to the chairs where they both turned and sat. The strange hairless girl sat on the top step between them, her legs held modestly together. When she turned slightly to look up at Mrs. Karasatos I could see she wasn’t completely hairless after all. She wore a short ruff of dark hair beginning at the top of her neck and covering the rounded back of her head.

“Let’s start with this couple,” Mrs. Karasatos said, pointing to Jodi and a petite redhead with pouty lips standing beside her. “Clare will show the rest of you where to wait.”

Clare the hairless girl stood and walked toward us, smiling slightly. She made a gesture for us to follow her. I gave a last glance at Jodi, but she was looking at Mr. and Mrs. Karasatos. Clare led the four of us into a short hallway with doors on both sides. She motioned my partner and I towards one door and the other couple towards the other.

“Relax, have a drink if you like, but don’t get drunk,” she said in a soft voice. “And no smoking, please.”

When the door closed behind her, I looked around. We were in a beautifully furnished, but otherwise normal hotel room with a king-size bed. I sat in one of the chairs and an uncomfortable silence fell. The girl in black prowled around, flipping the lights on in the bathroom, glancing at me occasionally. I watched her in my peripheral vision until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I got up and headed for the mini-bar.

“What’s your name?” I asked. “Do you want a drink?”

She smiled and sat on the bed.

“Dannie, short for Danielle. Yeah, bring me a beer. Anything domestic.” I handed her a can of Michelob and sat back in the chair. She popped the top and sipped from her beer.

“Aren’t you drinking?”

“No, I’m too nervous. My stomach is a big knot.”

We fell silent and several minutes passed.

“You’re straight, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly. She was looking directly at me. For some reason I couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Yes … you?”

“Bi,” she declared, “but I like girls better.”

I didn’t say anything. She got up and paced the length of the room. Turning she walked back to me and stood in front of my chair. I looked down at her boots and her legs in those tight, black jeans. She didn’t seem to be wearing a dildo. Suddenly her fingers brushed my cheek. Surprised, I turned my face down and away. Dannie chuckled.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked huskily. I couldn’t look at her. My mouth was dry. She reached down and lightly stroked my left breast through my dress and bra. I jerked away.

“Your nips are hard,” she whispered. “I can see them through your bra.”

I wanted her to leave me alone. I wondered about Jodi. I wondered if she was naked on the white satin bed, kneeling behind the petite redheaded girl with the pouty lips. For a second I wondered if the redhead’s pussy lips were pouty, too, then I pushed the thought from my mind. It didn’t mean anything.

Dannie tried to touch my breast again, but I blocked her by hunching over. She hissed with anger and stepped back. She sat on the bed and leaned towards me.

“You think you’re special because you’re so pretty,” she snarled. “I bet guys have been sniffing after you for years. One way or another I’m going fuck you tonight,” she paused and in a softer voice said, “We could get to know each other … have a little fun.”

I didn’t answer or look up. The silence seemed to last a long time.

“Typical fucking straight,” Dannie growled. “Too uptight to try something new, but not too uptight to fuck another girl for money!”

I ignored her, knowing she was wrong. The silence stretched out again. I could feel her eyes boring into me.

“Fake lesbians putting on a fake show for the paying customers,” she said bitterly. “I’ll bet you and your cookie don’t even eat each other. Or is she a closet dyke? … I’ll bet she is … She use a strap-on? … She probably likes to pretend she’s got a dick! You make me hurl!”

I could feel my face burning during Dannie’s tirade. Finally she flopped back on the bed and was silent. I started to relax, and slowly began to feel better. Time passed and I started to get tense again. Soon it would be me on the white satin bed. With Dannie.

“I’m sorry you don’t like me,” I whispered. There was no answer. We waited again in silence. Finally there was a soft knock and Clare opened the door. Her smooth, white skin gleamed in the lamplight.

“Please come with me,” she said smiling. Following her down the hall towards the huge living room, it suddenly it occurred to me that the single patch of hair on the back of her head was the perfect size and length to be grabbed … like a handle. A hand gripping that hair would be able to guide her head in any direction … and her mouth. I pushed the thought from my head.

Mr. and Mrs. Karasatos still sat in the two big chairs. He looked just the same, but her nightgown hung open down the front. I caught a flash of one breast as she turned towards us. Her large, dark eyes gleamed in the dim light and she smiled.

“Welcome,” she said, sipping a pale liquid from a wineglass. “The evening has begun well and now it’s your turn to enjoy … and be enjoyed …

“You may begin.”

A sudden shove from behind sent me sprawling onto the big round bed. Dannie’s knee was in my back and she was taking — no ripping — my light dress off. Tug, rip, tug and my back was exposed … a deft twist and my bra was undone. Hands dug up under my skirt. Automatically I struggled and tried to close my legs, but Dannie’s knee forced them apart and then my panties were gone, pulled roughly down my legs. Grabbing an arm, she flipped me over and straddled me, amazingly strong. She was staring down, still fully clothed. Rip, tug, rip and the top of my dress was in shreds. I tried to hold my bra over my breasts, but she pulled it roughly out of my hands and tossed it away. I looked up to see a grim smile on her face.

“Your ass is MINE, little cookie!” she hissed. I quavered inside.

Dannie raised herself up and a few more rips left me naked under her. Scraps of my dress littered the bed. She reached for my breasts and I tried to grab her hands. She slapped me one hard stinging time that left my head ringing. Determined not to cry, I lay motionless while her hands roamed over me for several minutes … squeezing, pinching, stroking. She grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt with both hands and pulled it over her head. The sports bra came off next and her large breasts swung free. She leaned forward, the rough cloth of her jeans digging into my belly. I turned my face away.

“You’re gonna suck tit, my little friend!” and when I shook my head, ‘No,’ she took my left nipple in a fierce grip. “Suck mine or lose yours!”

The next moment Dannie pressed a nipple against my lips. I closed my eyes, reluctantly opened my mouth and began to suckle. I suspected she would carry out her threat if I resisted. For a second I considered biting her nipple off, but I was afraid. Her nipple began to get hard as I sucked. Above me she gave a harsh moan.

“That’s it,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Mmmmm. Uuuuunh, That’s it. You’re doing great!”

I fell into it gradually. A Dannie moaning in pleasure wasn’t likely to hit me. I began working on her nipple, first sucking softly, then hard, then flicking it with my tongue the way I liked. She was almost purring with arousal.

After awhile Dannie pulled her nipple out of my mouth with tiny pop and I opened my eyes. She smiled down at me almost softly, replacing her hard, wet nipple with her soft, dry one. I closed my eyes and began nursing again. She pressed her breast against my willing mouth, gave a small gasp and began again to moan her arousal.

“That’s soooo good,” she whispered. “Mmmmmm-unh!”

I sucked her for a long time, concentrating my mouth and tongue on her long, stiff nipple and her areola. I began feeling a little warm, too. Then Dannie pulled away and flopped on her back beside me. I looked and she was pushing her jeans down her muscular legs. She wore no panties and her pussy was completely bare. Unlike Clare’s discreet little slit, Dannie’s pussy was gaping wetly open, her inner lips exposed, swollen, dark and wet.

In seconds she was kneeling over me again. She straddled my right leg and lowered her naked pussy onto my thigh. Dannie drove her weight down, rubbing her wet sex against me. Then she began a rhythm, first grinding her pussy against my leg then lifting up briefly before grinding down again. Her breathing rapidly began to grow deep and hard, with occasional sharp gasps. Her eyes were closed to slits and her face twisted with pleasure.

Dannie’s right leg was between mine, rubbing into my crotch as she humped me. Her large breasts swayed heavily above me, just out of reach. Warmth spread slowly from my pussy throughout my body, but she wasn’t trying to get me off. She was building quickly towards her own climax and my slow arousal was just a side effect. My whole thigh was wet with her juice.

“AAAAgghh!” she gave a brief shout, then Dannie was flat on top of me. Her arms held me, giving leverage as she doubled the speed of her humping. Then she was cumming, a good hard cum, humping my leg as fast as she could, moaning and crying out with her face buried against my bare breasts.

“Ungh-ungh-ungh-ungh-Ungh-Ungh-UNgh-UNgh-UNGH!-UNGH!-UNGH! Oh fuck me you CUNT, oh FUCK! oh FUCK! FUCK! FUCK ME!” she cried.

Her orgasm slowly faded and Dannie lay there for several minutes, collapsed on top of me, our sweaty skin sticking together, her quick breath tickling my chest. Strangely, it made me feel good that she had cum, that I had given her a good cum. After awhile, Clare appeared and knelt on the round bed beside us. She tapped Dannie on the arm.

“Thank you. You can go now.”

Dannie lifted herself up, glancing at me briefly with no expression. She hopped off the bed and started pulling on her clothes. I began to sit up, hoping something remained of my dress, but Clare stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her and she was looking back with a slight, sweet smile.

“Please stay for awhile,” she said.

I laid there with Clare kneeling beside me, not knowing what else to do. She watched Dannie walk towards the door. From the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. and Mrs. Karasatos — two dim figures sitting motionless in their chairs. The big door thumped closed behind Dannie.

“That didn’t look very pleasant for you,” Clare said softly. Her hairless head was backlit and it was hard to see her face. “Mrs. Karasatos has asked me to finish what your partner began.”

Before I could decide what she meant, Clare moved down, gently pressed my knees apart with her small hands and leaned down to place her open mouth on my pussy. Her tongue quickly found my clit and a jet of pleasure shot from my throbbing clit up my spine to explode in my head. My head slammed back on the bed and I heard myself moan.

I had never experienced oral sex, but in three seconds I knew I LOVED being licked! I looked down to see Clare’s straight little nose burrowing into my hairy mound. Her unseen mouth was busy with my slit, but her eyes looked up at me, smiling. She took my swollen clit between her lips and sucked gently. Another electric shock zoomed up my spine to my brain then ricocheted down to my stiffening nipples.

Clare wasted no time. Her tongue moved quickly, licking my clit a couple of times then wiggling its way down my slit to my dripping vagina. She rimmed my opening, shot her tongue deep inside me then started the process again. I was in heaven.

But suddenly I felt guilty. I don’t know how I found the strength, but I reached down and gently lifted Clare’s face from between my legs.

“My God, that’s wonderful,” I panted. “But you don’t have to do this for me.”

She smiled, running her pink tongue around her glistening lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said softly. “This is what I like. This is what I do,” and she lowered her face again to my pussy. I gave in to the rising waves of pleasure.

Soon I was emitting steady groans as a powerful pressure built inside me. Clare’s mouth was completely devoted to my pussy, licking, sucking and probing deeply. A couple of times she seemed to suck directly at the juices I knew were flowing out of me. I felt more than heard her own excited moans.

Eventually the tension grew until my stomach muscles were hard as a board and my hips began involuntarily humping upwards against Clare’s loving mouth. My pussy spasmed, my body felt on fire and my rock-hard nipples begged for attention. I grabbed them and tugged cruelly, somehow bringing relief. Then I was over the top, cumming hard, my lower body convulsing as Clare clung to my hips. Her mouth continued its relentless assault, her tongue flicking my clit.

“AAAAAAAAAEEeeeeeeeeeeee!” I screamed without caring who heard me. “OH! … OH! … OH! … OH! … OH Nooooooooo!”

Clare put her lips around my clit and began a gentle, insistent sucking that seemed to prolong my cum without end.

“Unh!-Unh!-Unh!-Unh!-Unh! OH! OHHHHHHHHHH!” I came and came and came until finally I could stand no more and pushed Clare’s head away. Cupping a hand over my too-sensitive pussy, I closed my legs and rolled to one side, shaking with exhaustion. Tears slid down my face. Clare spooned herself behind and put her arms around me. She held me and murmured soft, reassuring words that I barely heard.

I don’t know how long we laid there together, but I finally stirred and sat up. Mr. and Mrs. Karasatos were gone. Clare smiled.

“That was a beautiful climax,” she said. “I loved watching you.”

“That was the most incredible cum I’ve ever had,” I said. “Thank you so much!”

“No, I should thank you. You really taste very sweet … and so sensitive. I thought you would cum forever.”

I blushed, suddenly a little shocked at having such a profound experience with a stranger. Clare must have sensed some of what I was feeling. She picked up my hand and smiled reassuringly.

“What happened to your bosses,” I said, waving at the empty chairs.

“They liked watching you and Dannie, but they REALLY liked watching us. They’ve gone off to make love,” she said dreamily. “Soon they’ll send for me.” She licked her lips, “There’ll be some lovely leftovers.”

I must have gotten a funny look on my face, because Clare looked at me and gave a long, delighted giggle.

Clare picked up a nearby phone and astonished me by ordering — long after midnight — a complete new outfit for me. She ordered a dress, underwear, accessories and shoes — specifying color, style and fabric. She estimated all my sizes perfectly except for my shoe size, and ordered everything delivered to the suite immediately. Then she took me to a nearby bathroom and helped me get showered and dressed. The dress alone was more than $1,000.

Finally leading me towards the door, Clare pressed two envelopes into my hand, kissed me lightly on the lips and told me their driver would take me home. My purse was still sitting in the entry hall, along with a uniformed limo driver. He drove me back to the apartment as I stared through the tinted glass windows of the limo at the lights of the Strip. At home Jodi was pacing anxiously up and down in her robe, her wet hair up in a towel.

“Thank God you’re home,” she blurted as I walked in the door. Then she stopped short.

“Where did you get that dress?” She looked down. “And a new purse and shoes, too?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said, heading for the bathroom. “Right now I need to change.”

Ten minutes later I came out of the bathroom in my robe, brushing my hair. Jodi was lying on her bed watching me.

“How did it go?” she asked. “They said not to wait for you.”

“It was okay,” I said, “kinda weird … some good, some not so good.” She was watching my face closely. I put down my brush and sat beside her on the bed.

“I did decide a couple of things tonight,” I said after a pause.

“What’s that?”

“First … I want us to leave Vegas.”

“Oh!” Jodi’s face registered surprise, but no strong opposition. She looked up at me.

“And … I decided I want to do this,” I said. I leaned down and kissed Jodi, pressing hard from the very first and pushing my tongue between her startled lips. It only took her a second to recover and we were kissing passionately, our tongues wrestling deep in her mouth, then deep in mine. It was a series of kisses, really. First I was kissing her, then she was kissing me. My kisses, I know, were forceful, almost bruising, full of pent-up want. I wanted to tell Jodi so much with those kisses. Finally, we broke apart breathlessly, looking in each other’s bemused faces.

“I’m so glad you finally decided to meet me halfway,” Jodi blurted. I laughed.

“Oh, I’m going to meet you more than halfway!” I said, pushing her gently back on the bed.

I tugged loose the knot of Jodi’s robe. She watched wide-eyed as I spread her robe open, her small round breasts waiting, her pubes glistening. I pulled one of her legs wide and leaned quickly forward. Mimicking Clare, I put my mouth on Jodi’s pussy and darted my tongue down to find her little pearl. I knew just where to look, and I heard Jodi gasp. Then she gave a low, crooning moan.

I circled her clit with my tongue-tip, wetting it, brushing it slightly. She pressed her hips slowly up and opened her legs, offering herself. I pressed my tongue-tip down her slit, then slowly licked back up to her clit. I felt her hands on the back of my head, pressing my face against her. I was glad to cooperate.

I closed my mouth over her pussy and began licking in earnest, flicking lightly over her clit half-a-dozen times, then pursing my lips to suck gently. Then again. And again. Jodi cried out something that could have been, “NO!” but her hands still pressed my face into her. I licked and licked, loving her smell, the slightly tangy taste of her liquid and the insistent thrusting of her hips.

I settled down to short, steady licks across her clit with the tip of my tongue. Her hips still thrust up against my mouth, but my hands could feel the tension growing in her belly muscles. I wanted to make Jodi cum as badly as I ever wanted anything. I wanted this cum to be ours … mine and Jodi’s.

I was lost in the smell and taste and wet softness of her in my mouth, and the sound of her gasping that turned into “unh-unh-unh-unh-Unh-Unh-UNh!-UNh!-UNH!-UNH!-UNH!UNH!UNH!UNH!UNH! And her moans merged into one long, deep cry from her soul.


And her hips were thrusting up against my mouth and her hands gripped my hair, pressing my face into her wonderful, hot, wetness. I maneuvered one hand briefly, then pushed two fingers up her pussy. Jodi’s lower body convulsed anew when she felt the penetration, and I felt her heels beat briefly on my back as her climax continued.


So I did, thrusting my fingers inside her again and again, and licking and licking until she finally fell quiet and limp underneath me and the only sound was her ragged breathing. I laid there for awhile, my cheek against her tangled wet muff. My fingers slid out of her clasping warmth.

I sat up and looked at my beautiful friend spread out beneath me, her legs wide, skin and hair glistening wet everywhere I looked. Her little pink nipples atop her small, round breasts looked painfully erect. I lifted my wet fingers to my nose and smelled her, then put them in my mouth and tasted her. Then I watched her lie there for a long time. Finally she raised her head and our eyes met.

“That was incredible,” she whispered hoarsely, smiling. “Thank you … THANK you!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said with my own smile. “Because we’re just getting started.”

I stood up, untied my robe and let it drop from my shoulders to the floor. Jodi’s eyes were instantly drawn down to where the big, flesh-colored dildo hung heavily in its harness, swaying slightly when I moved. Jodi made a little choking sound in her throat.

“Oh baby!” she whispered, wide-eyed.

I knelt between her legs, looking at her beautiful, round little breasts topped with stiff pink nipples. The swollen lips of her sweet pussy were just visible in the thick hair where her long legs joined her hips. Leaning down I pressed her pussy open with one hand while positioning the head of the dildo at her entrance with the other.

Jodi tilted her hips to meet the coming thrust and looked up at my face.

“Are you sure?” she asked. For an answer I leaned forward and my weight pressed my cock slowly and steadily between her widespread legs. Jodi gasped, spread her legs wide and thrust upward with her hips. In less than a minute I was buried in her, our pussy hair mingling, my breasts flattened on hers.

“I’m sure,” I said, and began to fuck her gently, and with love.

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