1. Horseplay


    Date: 4/3/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: monica3, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    behind me, talking to Vicky. ‘Did you fuck her before you came tonight?’ I felt Debra’s hand on my arse and went to move but Vicky held me tightly. She said, ‘We don’t all shag and tell, Debs, darling.’ ‘Well, I call that plain rude. Did she fuck you, Susan?’ ‘No.’ Her hand caressed my arse and I felt distinctly uncomfortable. ‘George didn’t fuck me either. But then, George isn’t any use in that department anymore.’ The hand traced the crack of my arse. ‘Well, you’ve probably exhausted the poor old fart,’ said Vicky. ‘Doubtless. Now, are you going to lend me this little joy toy or am I going to have to go and find someone else to give Lady Debra her just desserts?’ ‘Not tonight, Debs. I’m going to take her home now. I think we both need a little together time.’ ‘Cant say I blame you but then, you cant blame me for asking either.’ She patted my arse. ‘Give her a good seeing to and remember, Lady Debra is always willing to babysit or puppy walk if you need me.’ Her heels clicked on the oak floor as she left. I think it was then that I breathed again. ‘Don’t forget, sweety, that if I decide to lend you to her, then I will. Clear?’ ‘Yes, Vicky.’ ‘Yes, who?’ ‘Yes, Ma’am.’ ‘Better. Show me your arse.’ This was familiar territory. I turned so my back was illuminated by the crackling fire and lifted my dress. She pulled my knickers down a little and her hand wandered gently over my skin. ‘Not a mark on you. Well, home I think and we’ll put that to rights. Victoria is feeling rather ...
    cruel now. Debra taught me to enjoy my cruel side. She said it keeps a woman young. Come along now, let’s get home and find something to make my evening complete.’ * The fire in the hearth was dying. I added logs and helped it to reawaken. Victoria watched me as I knelt in front of the fire. I was naked but for a suspender belt and stockings. She reclined, still wearing her kilt and shirt but having lost the jacket and bow tie. I turned to face her, still on my knees. ‘Well done you. I can never get the bloody thing to start. Pour me another whisky, darling. I want you to have one too.’ I stood up and walked to the sideboard where a large decanter held her favourite whisky. I poured a large one for her, a smaller for myself. Low lights barely lit the room. ‘Debra is one of the few who understands us you know.’ I placed her glass beside her on a low table to her left hand side. I sat on the floor, resting my back against her legs and felt her hand caress the top of my head. She was often at her gentlest before she indulged her cruel side. It seemed she enjoyed the gentle intimacies before she sought out my fears and tears. She knew I was at my most nervous now because I could have no idea whether it was to be long and drawn out or quick or what. She loved my uncertainty, my fear. Victoria loved tears shed for her pleasure. She was imaginative too, finding ways to hurt that surprised but always there was the pleasure, the intense, profound pleasure that went along with it. I ...
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