Ode to Red Ch. 03

Author’s note: For this mini-series in the lesbian sex category, I was inspired to go for a drunk dream-like narrative. Enjoy!

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She calls me up. She has never done that before in the last 8 years I’ve known her. Her voice is happy, much happier than usual. It’s 3 pm. She must be sober. She tells me about her new boyfriend. I find it odd, but feel happy for her.

A month later, I get an e-mail. A “save the date” announcement. Underneath the card, an extra line: “bachelorette party is the day before”. I assume it’s meant for me.

Two months later, I get the official invite in the mail. I get a plus one; awesome, thanks. There is the additional card, again. Info for her bachelorette party at her place. I RSVP “yes” to both events. No plus one.

Wedding gift is easy. But I want to get her something else for her party. I remember the lipstick I “borrowed” last time I saw her. And I go out and get her navy blue thongs. It’s her favorite color.

Yes, I actually know things about her. It surprises me, too, sometimes. Anyway… It’s weird for me to think about her wedding. For obvious reasons…

No, I’m not in love with her. I never was. I think. Maybe at one point. Nothing serious. Obviously…

I buy my plane tickets last minute. I land at the same airport that I got stranded in before. I make two transfers again on the train, but different direction this time. Hotel is fine.

I’m jittery as I dress up for her party. I put on a blue romper dress, but nothing eye-catching. I probably won’t know anyone there other than her.

The other girls are nice. I’m not the only one that brought a gift. We all drink first. Bottoms up. Then she opens her presents. Someone got her a pair of cuffs. A few more lingerie items. Only mine is blue.

She smiles when she sees her first initial on the side güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri of the thongs. It’s also my initial. I couldn’t help myself. Finding her lipstick in the box makes her tearful for some reason. The moment is gone too quickly.

We make more drinks disappear. Now they want her to model the lingerie for us. I’m quiet, but hopeful she might do it.

She finally gives in and takes everything to her bedroom to try on. I go to the bathroom, hoping to be back before the show starts.

When I sit on the toilet bowl, I get a text. My ex sent me a nude. I think it’s a mistake, but then I get another text: “I miss you.” So typical of her to use her body to get things. I can’t deal with this right now.

My face is frozen with a weird expression. But I’m at her party. I join the crowd again. She has a lacy black set and matching garter belt on. They look good on her.

Her best friend cuffs her hands to the back of a chair. Apparently, the cuffs need a key to unlock and no one knows where they are except the girl who cuffed her. Now she’s bent over a chair, her ass in thongs and lingerie staring at us.

I’m not sure if there are any lesbians in the group. It would be good to know if I’m the only one wetting their panties. I catch a few curious looks. Wolf whistles have been non-stop. So maybe we’re all at least bi.

They make up a game. We make a train. She has to kiss each of us. Whoever gets the hottest kiss will get the key to her cuffs. We watch each kiss closely.

Some girls really go for it and we cheer. I’m in the middle of the line. My phone rings. Fuck…

I answer. I always answer. It’s my ex, crying on the other end. I curse myself and leave the game room. She’s drunk — again. As soon as I can get off the phone, I call her brother to fix the mess.

My mood is completely güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri spoiled. I’m a bit late at getting back to the game. Everybody else has had their turn already. They look at me.

For the first time, I approach her half-heartedly. If she knows, she doesn’t show it. I bend down to her level. Our lips meet. My eyes close, I can’t help it. It’s electric.

I don’t hear anything when we stop the kiss. Where are the cheers? I’m not that bad a kisser.

The girls are frozen. A couple of them look away. I’m confused. The best friend gives me the key. Fuck…

Once I uncuff her, the mood lightens up. She puts on a dress and avoids my eyes. Someone starts a new drinking game. Everybody shares their most sordid sex act.

I tell them about the house party, as if she had been a guy. The girls enjoy my version of blowing a drop-dead gorgeous guy in front of 10 other people. Can she tell it’s her I’m talking about?

I don’t win the game. It’s OK. I drink.

We play a few more games. I don’t remember what. Oh then there’s cake. Pretty good cake. Most girls scrape the icing off.

It’s late now. There’s enough room for most of us to stay. Once the couches are taken, I fail at the math. Her best friend helps and takes me to a room. There’s a double air mattress.

She warns me someone will eventually join me. I don’t care. I nod off.

I wake up to a text. It’s not my phone. It’s hers. She’s sleeping next to me. I panic. My movement wakes her up.

She’s sleepy but deliberate when she reaches for me. My body reacts. The kiss makes my nipples and clit tingle. Maybe she feels it. Her next move is to go under my dress. Her fingers rub me over the panties.

“No more piercing?” I can say the same thing to her. That’s why her kiss feels different. Definitely not güvenilir bahis şirketleri less intense, just different. I moan into her mouth. Her fingers slide under the panties and stroke me.

I return the favor. She’s wet, although she just woke up. Must have been a good dream. I lower my mouth to her nipples. They’re poking through her shirt. It’s easy to get them hard and wet. Now she’s grinding against my hand.

I go down on her. At least, I try to. She pulls me by my legs. We’re in a clumsy 69. We fall on our side.

My breath is heavy on her sex. I fumble with the underwear and get it out of the way just enough. She goes through a similar battle. Then her mouth closes on me.

The first couple of licks destroy me. I’ve never come that hard. I have to close my legs to stop her. My turn.

My kisses make her squirm. I know she wants to be loud. I know neither of us would care in this moment. I attack her with my tongue and lap up her juices. She gives me more. I slide in deeper.

My nose is against her clit. Each rub makes her gush more and fills my mouth. I move with more intention and edge her out. She begs me to let her come. I just change my pace, so she has to start all over again.

She has enough sense the worm her way between my legs again. I’m happy with the attention. I feel fingers on my clit, in my pussy and in my ass. It catches me off guard.

I grind against her hands. Each finger rubs me a different way. I’m mad with desire. I know she’s doing this so I make her come.

In the silence, I listen to her breaths. My thumb rubs her clit roughly. I can gauge how close she is. She’s doing the same for me, counting the seconds between my hips moving.

We both slow down and increase the pressure. The slower we move, the harder we press. Her clit throbs. I feel mine do the same thing.

In our native language, I count to three. On three, we both French kiss our clits. I see fireworks. The way she shakes in my arms, she sees them, too.

I know we’ll never do this again. But I’m glad we had this one last time. I wrap my hand in her red curls and we fall asleep together.