Emma’s girlfriend, Jenny, prattled on and on and on, her sweet, high voice getting higher the more animated she became. The girl could talk, which was one of her charms, along with the adorably tiny lips the words came out of, lips that perpetually glistened with some kind of glittery gloss the femme seemed to naturally produce. Emma wasn’t butch, but she didn’t go much for make-up; it was all a bit of a mystery to her, one that was never solved no matter how many times her lips pressed against her girlfriend’s shiny, sticky, sweet, perfect ones.
For herself, Emma preferred the simple look, a short, flattering cut of her deep brown hair that didn’t require much maintenance, clothes that she could easily mix and match in grey, black, white and olive green, with the occasional splash of purple, nails short and clean, maybe with some clear gloss, never anything more colourful. All the primping and fussing were best left to girls who enjoyed it far more. She preferred buying clothes for Jenny, fun items in red and pink and purple, glittery and feminine, ones she enjoyed holding out for a naked Jenny to step into, then later gliding her hands under and easing off of her sensual body.
The same way Jenny could get lost in telling a story, Emma could get lost in Jenny, in those luscious brown ringlets of hair that coiled and coiled down her shoulders and back, in the way her face lit up, her eyes sparkling, in the fantasies that were always lurking in Emma’s mind of just what she wanted to do with her. She knew Jenny was infatuated with her as well, but Jenny was also more easily distracted, her head turned by a hot ass or a sexy smile, while Emma, for the most part, only had eyes for Jenny.
Emma paused then when she heard the same name pop out of those sweet, luscious lips, again and again: Damon. It was “Damon this” and “Damon that”, so many times that the two-syllable name seemed to take on an echo, became a poetic tool, the anchor to whatever Jenny was trying to convey. He was Jenny’s new co-worker at the gourmet shop where she worked, and apparently he was covered in tattoos, an earful of earrings, tall, with shaggy black hair hanging in his eyes, and sexy, with a punk rock bent.
Emma wasn’t conventional by any means, but that wasn’t her; she didn’t show her unusualness on the outside in quite that way – though she’d never get mistaken for a prom queen or cheerleader – and she could tell by the way Jenny was talking about him that her girlfriend liked him, not just the idea of him. She didn’t just admire his unusual looks or in-your-face attitude with customers, she liked him on an altogether more intimate level. From their boozy barroom whispers about which girls they wanted to bed, and occasional public flirtations, Emma recognised the lustful look in Jenny’s eyes. ‘And he said, “If you don’t like what we have to offer, why don’t you shop somewhere else?” No one ever talks like that to–’ Mid-sentence, Emma reached out a finger to shush Jenny.
‘What?’ Jenny managed to mumble around the digit.
‘Sweetie, tell me what you’re really trying to say.’
‘What do you mean?’ Emma could sense tears threatening to spill from Jenny’s eyes; the girl was much too sensitive for her own good.
‘I’m not mad, but I can tell – you like him. I want to know why. Tell me what you’d want him to do with you. To you. With us. Don’t censor yourself. I know you think I’m not into guys, and I’m not, really, not like you are – or were, before me – but if a guy turns you on that much, I’d be willing to consider him, as long as he knows you belong to me. I used to fuck them, remember?’ She laughed at the memory; it had been such a long time, and she preferred to be the one with the cock in her relationships these days.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked, her voice breathless.
‘Yes,’ Emma said.
‘Well, if you really want to know, I had a dream about the three of us the other day. And, well, you were sucking his cock and I was playing with your pussy. And then we switched and I was sucking his cock and you were fucking me, first with your fingers, then with your cock, you know the one; I was stuffed full on each end, and he was holding my hair tight while you held my hips down and pumped me hard. It was so hot, and you were so into it, all of it, and then we shared his cock, licking up and then down, kissing around it, and then I kissed him while he fucked you.’ Emma didn’t hear all of what Jenny said after that, because she was picturing this mysterious stranger somehow entwined between the two of them. It had been so long and yet a part of her remembered the kind of longing Jenny was describing, the sheer male energy a guy could offer, a live, pulsing, hot cock that could fill her all over.
Though it had been quite a while, so long Emma couldn’t exactly recall, that didn’t mean her head didn’t turn on occasion when a particularly hot man, maybe one with his top off, muscles bared, so proud and secure in his masculinity, walked down the street. But this was different. She wasn’t lusting after a man she saw on the street, or in an ad, or even someone she’d met. What was making Emma’s pierced nipples hard at that very moment was Jenny, with a little something extra. It was the idea of Jenny getting what she wanted, of being able to give it to her, of sharing her perfectly slutty, sexy girl with a man who would surely be as thrilled to have her as Emma was, yet Emma would be the one to take her home.
‘Show me his picture,’ Emma demanded, and Jenny raced to the computer and pulled up his profile.
‘That’s my favourite picture,’ Jenny gushed. In response, Emma reached between Jenny’s legs, feeling exactly how wet the prospect of what they were considering, of their two become three, had done to her. Emma fucked her with those same fingers, adding three, then four, as Jenny rocked against her and they both stared at the man on the screen. Emma made her decision as she felt Jenny’s pussy clench around her fingers, then release a stream of juices. Emma twisted her fingers and turned to gaze deeply into Jenny’s eyes.
‘Yes, we can do it. I want to watch his cock as it goes right here, as he fucks you so hard you scream. I want to fuck you while you suck him. I want to torture you with him as my co-conspirator. I hope you know what you’re asking for, Jenny.’
Like a bride, she said, ‘I do,’ and like a bride, Jenny had no idea what she was truly assenting to.