Nicole: The Truth at Last – a “From Jeannie to Vanessa” Story – Chapter 02

"Nicole tells her tale of love with Vanessa"

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If you haven’t read “From Jeannie to Vanessa,” you need to read it. Also, you need to read Chapter 1 of this story. These are NOT stand alone stories.

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Chapter 2: Siller comes to call

Siller stood in the doorway of the bedroom, an absolutely HUGE shit-eating grin on his face and eyes looking like they were going to jump out of his skull.

Siller, (short for Sylvester, “rhymes with killer” he always said, although I sometimes called him “Silly”) was my boyfriend.

Vanessa and I, attired in stockings and “killer” heels and very little else, lay intertwined with each other on the bed, trying to wake up. I’m sure we made a lovely “ebony and ivory” picture, her blonde permed hair and pale skin and my brown curly hair and darker brown skin, suitable for framing for male wet dreams everywhere.

“We were tired, after the trip, and decided to take a nap.” I said, struggling to pull a sheet or pillowcase or SOME fucking thing out from under us to cover us up a little.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t seem pissed off or anything, which was good, but he DID seem very interested in the sleepy blonde white girl in porn-star lingerie I was desperately trying to untangle myself from.

Vanessa finally seemed to recognize what was going on and opened her eyes slightly. To my surprise, instead of freaking out and helping me pull the bed apart looking for something to cover herself with, she smiled sleepily and said “Oh hi, Siller, what’s up?”

She calmly rolled away from me, opening her legs unselfconsciously and giving Siller a quite unnecessary full-frontal hey-how-are-you view. I could have told her what was up with Siller, ’cause I could see it going up.

She put her feet on the floor, stood up a little unsteadily in the five-inch heels, and said, “Wow, that was a nice nap! What time is it?”

I don’t think Siller knew what planet he was on, much less what time zone we were in. I looked over at the bedside clock and said “It’s 3:15, Vaness…uh…Jeannie. When do you need to leave?”

“Oh, darl…um…Nicole, I guess I better get going. Let me hit the bathroom and get my stuff together.”

We were both stumbling over words. “Vanessa,” Jack’s code word for Jeannie’s submissive side, had seemed so right, it was how I thought of her now. I had to wrench my mind back to her “old” name. And the few words she had spoken to me during our lovemaking had been full of passionate endearments.

To be fair, I don’t think anything she was doing was designed to titillate Siller on purpose. I mean, she was wearing a cupless bra that displayed her pretty pink titties, plus garter belt, stockings and heels, and had just showed off her shaved pussy. But all that was done, originally, for me. Siller just happened to be an accidental beneficiary of the situation. How the fuck could I complain?

She went into the bathroom and closed the door, Siller’s hot eyes following her rear view as intently as he had studied the front view.

Siller’s bulging eyeballs unlocked from the now-closed bathroom door and rotated slowly to me.

I smiled weakly at him. What was I going to say? The “nap” story was DOA, I knew that. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the whole room smelled like sex.

Siller, at least, didn’t look angry, at least not yet. I think he was too turned on to be angry. I mean, I guess there is a whole category of porn devoted to girl/girl action, and probably a sub-category for interracial girl/girl action, and he had just walked into fantasy-land. I already knew he thought Jeannie/Vanessa was hot, based on his ad nauseum commentary on how she had changed in the last few weeks.

I now knew those changes were due to her developing Dominant/submissive relationship with her boyfriend Jack, and her exposure to some girl/girl and threesome sex with the admittedly striking raven-haired lingerie shop owner, Marguerite. I had certainly gotten to know Vanessa better in the weekend we had shared, including, obviously, in the biblical sense.

“Siller, I’m…”

He raised his hand. “Babe, we’ll talk when she’s gone. It’s OK, though, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you get her clothes for her, so she, uh, doesn’t have walk out bare-assed.”

I hurried to pick up our clothes, still lying where we had left them just inside the front door. I separated Vanessa’s two items and tapped on the bathroom door. She opened it a little and looked out at me with wide eyes. I forced a smile and handed her the blouse and skirt.

She emerged a moment later, mercifully fully clothed, and looking a little anxious. “Siller…,” she began.

Once again he raised his hand. “Jeannie, don’t worry about it. Jack and I have talked. It’s all good.”

“But Siller, I just wanted to say something to you. Nicole really cares about you, she loves you. If this…” and she spread her hands to cover the room, the bed, herself, “hurts you, it won’t happen again. I don’t want to do something to drive a wedge between you and Nicole. I belong to Jack – you know that.”

“Jeannie, I do know that, Jack and I had a long talk. He didn’t know what was going to happen this weekend, but he’s in touch with where you are and he knows…” at this he looked over at me, “the kind of effect you can have on people. I’m not mad. Hell, I’m not even sorry, except that I missed it!”

Vanessa smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. “That’s good to hear because, frankly,” she said, also looking at me, “I want it to happen again. Maybe you won’t miss it then.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph! That randy little slut! You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Vanessa walked up to me and kissed me, full on the lips. I was too stunned to respond properly, but I was able to peck her back.

Then she looked at Siller and said, “Would you help me get my bag out of Nicole’s car and put it in mine?”

Siller mumbled something and got my keys to go help her. I think he was also unable to articulate very clearly after hearing her previous comment. Probably his tongue was hard.

I watched them through the window. She kissed Siller’s cheek and said something to him. Just before she got in her car, she turned and looked at me, and blew me a kiss. I blew her one back, and watched her drive down the road and out of sight.

Siller walked slowly back up the steps to the door and opened it. I looked apprehensively at him, ready to be chewed out, or yelled at, or worse, have him say nothing at all and just leave. He said he was OK, that he and Jack had talked, but I was afraid that was just to avoid a scene with Vanessa…uh, Jeannie.

I had slipped on a robe while he was walking her to the cars. Siller came in the door and smiled at me, reaching out to fold me into his arms. My heart started to beat again and I clung tightly to him, feeling the warmth of his hard chest through his t-shirt. I actually started to cry; hard-ass, tough-as-nails Nicole had tears running down her face. Siller looked down at me and began to kiss my cheeks where the tears were running.

“Hey now, babe, what’s all this? I’m with you, never gonna let you go, OK? You OK, nothing to cry about. So you had a little white milk from blondie’s bowl, broadened your horizons some. No shame baby.”

I had to laugh, while crying, at his use of my own words against me. I was the one who had told him not to be drinking white milk from blondie’s bowl, after he had remarked (over and over again) how good she looked. Damn, I sure couldn’t argue that anymore, she did look good. And damn if that milk didn’t taste pretty good too.

Siller tilted my chin back and looked me in the eye. “Nikki, baby, I love you. Maybe Jeannie does too, I wouldn’t blame her. You pretty sweet. But you ain’t ever gonna leave me for her, because she’s never gonna be free. As far as I am concerned, playtime with her is safe.

“Jack and I had a long talk. Jeannie’s adventurous right now. Her eyes have been opened wide, she’s exploring herself, shedding some old skin and stretching her wings, like a butterfly. She’s hungry for experience. Jack feels no concern, he believes completely in her. He even, ah…” His voice trailed off.

But I was seizing on what he had started off with…he was never going to leave me! He loved me!

“Oh Silly…” I was really bawling now, crying in relief, my tears of fear had turned to joy. And…I wouldn’t have to give Vanessa up, although I was willing, I wouldn’t have to!

“But I do have a question,” he began, looking as serious as he could, “when were you going to let me in on the new look?”

I stepped back from him and whipped open the robe, displaying my new five-inch pumps, thigh-high stockings, and shaved pussy. “What do you think? I put all this together today! And yes, I was thinking of you when I got the heels and hose and when I shaved my puss. Vanessa helped me do it!”

He looked at me curiously. “Who the hell is Vanessa?”

“It’s Jeannie, it’s like a code word for her submissive side. Vanessa means a couple of things, but one thing it means is a type of butterfly, just like you were talking about.”

“OK, enough about her, I want to drink you in…”

Siller just stared at me for a moment.

Finally, he spoke. “Wow. Like too-fucking wow. Baby, you look like a billion bucks! Get rid of that bathrobe, and lets play!”

I was only too happy to oblige. The bathrobe slithered off my shoulders and onto the floor, as Siller reached for me.

He gathered me into his arms and captured my lips with his, his strong tongue diving into my mouth to do battle with mine.

He broke the kiss to smile and say, “I told you those killer heels would look good on you!”

Then he picked me up and carried me back to the bedroom. As he laid me down on the bed, still in disarray from my recent tryst with Vanessa, he added, “Now I’m gonna find out about licking that smooth bowl clean!”

He wasted no time in trying me out. He spread my legs and took a good, long, look at my shaved pussy. “You know, I would probably never have asked you to do this, but I like how it looks! Now for the taste test…”

Siller lowered his face into my pussy, sniffing and kissing, probably smelling Vanessa all over me. He tasted my newly bared flesh repeatedly, first kissing and licking and then simply brushing his big hands over the skin to feel it. Soon, though, he focused his attention on my rapidly dampening puss, taking first the outer, then the inner lips in his own and working his tongue all around, gradually working his way closer and closer to my clit. I knew he loved playing with my little man in the boat, and this time was no exception. He flutter-tongued that little guy until I thought I was going to have a seizure. Then he began to use his thick, strong tongue to actually fuck my pussy. I was in heaven.

When he started, I was going to be clever and ask him if I passed the taste test but that fucking smart-ass idea was long gone at this point…

He raised his head and looked left and right, seeing the dark stockings on each leg, and applied his oral talents to my inner thighs, over the hose, just before he raised himself and moved up over my body. His tongue traced a route over my tummy, up my rib cage, and over my breasts, capturing my already-stiff nipples with his lips on the way up my neck to my mouth again.

I felt him positioning his stiff cock at the opening of my pussy, and he eased himself into me so agonizingly slowly I was crying out for him to “Please fuck me!” but he held his pace to a crawl. I could actually feel the inside of my pussy contracting like a swallowing throat, trying to pull his meat deeper into me.

Finally, like some huge inexorably moving stone finally settling into a slot custom built for it, I felt his dick go all the way home. He held it there, flexing it in me like a thick bicep. I could feel a brand new sensation, unfamiliar but not unpleasant; his stiff pubic curls crushing against my so-recently shaved flesh. I was going nuts! My legs wrapped around his thighs, my ankles locked together and my ‘killer heels’ were waving wildly in the air.

At long last, as my brain was spiraling into madness, he began to withdraw it slowly, then re-enter me, like some great piston in a dark wet engine. The action sped up; the engine (me) began to produce energy as the piston moved in and out more quickly. My words of lust, urging him on, blended into a continuous wail as he pounded me relentlessly.

I felt his cock begin to expand and contract in me as the cum loaded into it from his balls. He relaxed his weight onto my body, using both hands to grab the cheeks of my ass and pull me forcefully against his thrusting cock as he came, as if he was determined to take back every inch of me that had been surrendered to Vanessa’s probing tongue only hours before in this very bed.

That was the thought in my brain as I felt his semen blasting into my cunt. I was his! I might kiss Vanessa’s beautiful lips, both above and below, but I was his! And my consciousness left me then, as my own orgasm barreled through my brain and body.

I had never passed out during sex before, so it was a new experience. I came to slowly, with the feel of Siller’s breath against my cheek and his hand gently stroking the newly bared flesh between my legs. He really did like it. Damn! Thanks, Vanessa!

Siller saw that I was (a) alive and (b) conscious and smiled and gently kissed my lips. “I am gonna have to say that I am totally down with all the new developments. Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in stockings, at least not these sexy things. The heels fuckin’ rock! And I can’t say enough about that bare snatch. I hope it feels as good to you as it does to me!”

I nodded vigorously. “I like it too. It’s gonna take a little effort to keep it that way, but you’ve convinced me it’s worth it.”

I glanced over at the clock. Nearly three hours had gone by since Vanessa had left. I was thinking about her, hoping she got home safely, and also thinking I might call her and assure her that all was well here.

“Wow,” I said, “how long was I out?”

“About half an hour actually. You were breathing, so I figured maybe your lovers just wore you out today.”

I noticed he had said “lovers” and grinned. “Yeah, well, you two have been pretty rough on me.”

His face turned serious for a moment. “Did Jeannie…Vanessa tell you about the deal with Rick and DeeDee?”

“Well, a little.” I answered. “The big argument they had that Friday night, before we saw them Sunday in the dorm, was about that. Jack and Rick “kidnapped” her as a way of making her see that she was really submissive, and Rick and Jack both fucked her while she was tied up. DeeDee shaved her pussy at the same time. Then Jack told her it was just him…and the truth came out when Rick made some comment to Jeannie that night in the Student Union. It almost all came apart that night – but DeeDee saved the day by talking Vanessa through it.”

“Un-fucking-believable, right? Jack’s got stones, that’s for sure, but I think he took a crazy big risk.” Siller shook his head.

“But what I was also talking about was Rick and DeeDee, they have a relationship like Jack and Jeannie’s. But Rick is apparently pretty rough with DeeDee. Jack is concerned that he may be going overboard.

“And here is where it gets weird-er. Jeannie, uh, Vanessa, after the fight night, questioned Jack as to whether he had ever fucked DeeDee. Then she said since Rick had fucked her, he should share DeeDee. That’s crazy enough, but Jack has never has expressed interest in having sex with DeeDee, he thinks Vanessa may be hot for her.

“Jack is OK with Jeannie doing DeeDee, but he was really happy she wanted to get to know you better. Jeannie asked him, Friday, if he would object to her having sex with you, and as you probably heard from her he said no.

“OK, hold onto your ass now. This is gonna knock you down. Jack told me that he asked Jeannie, if things worked out with you, would she like to…

“Fuck you? I mean, fuck you!” I screamed, and began to cry again. That’s what she had meant! That crazy cracker bitch was after Siller!

“And so what the hell did you say to that? Yes, please, massa, and thank you for the white pussy? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Siller. What the hell kind of game are you playing at here?”

Siller said nothing, just watched me, his usual smack-talk and bravado nowhere in evidence.

I was out of the bed and on my feet now, stomping back and forth around the room, screaming and cursing, tears coursing down my cheeks. Vanessa had said “I want it to happen again. Maybe you won’t miss it then.” Holy mother of God.

After about fifteen minutes of pacing the room, I plopped back down on the bed again, then jumped up like I had been stung. I was never going to sleep in that fucking bed again!

‘Fucking’ bed. How fucking appropriate.

I stalked out of the bedroom and sat down on the couch.

After a little while, I stopped crying out loud, but was still sniffling.

“Siller,” I called, “what did you say to Jack?”

Siller came out and sat down beside me.

“I told him that Jeannie was stone cold beautiful, and I thought she was hot…but…I was in love with Nicole, and I couldn’t imagine hurting her like that.”

“Did you really? Is that really what you said?”

He reached over and picked up the telephone from its cradle on the side table. “Call him.”

I took the phone from him and looked at it for a long time. Then I put it back. I knew I didn’t want to talk to Jack right now.

I touched my lips for a moment. I remembered the feel of her lips on mine. Was it all just an act, to get to Siller through me? But wait, it wasn’t even Vanessa’s idea, was it? She had asked Jack for permission to get involved with me. It was Jack’s idea that she might eventually sleep with Siller.

I was so confused! I loved Siller, that’s why it hurt so much, the thought of Vanessa worming her way in between us. But…I think I was starting to love Vanessa, too. That’s also why it hurt so much, the idea that she would use my affection to get to Siller. But it wasn’t her, not really. And, it seemed (as I tried to reason through all the, uh, ins and outs), she wasn’t trying to split anybody up, she was just enjoying herself…and me. As she would enjoy DeeDee, and Siller too, if I let her.

It was like she had no conscience, or need for one. She had made it crystal clear that she was Jack’s…plaything, she had said. She was free to love, and make love, because she was owned, because she knew that she belonged to Jack and he would make the call, she would always be under his control.

Jack had allowed her to, ah, spread her wild oats because he had complete confidence she would come back…he had her tethered.

Jack, and I, didn’t need to worry about her heart. She could give it to me, in all honesty, because she knew I wouldn’t try to claim her for my own. Because she belonged to Jack, and Jack belonged to her; and because I belonged to Siller, and Siller belonged to me. Not in the same way; not as chattel, or plaything; but belonging, just the same.

Siller was mine, but he was attracted to Vanessa, of course! He was normal, and male, and Vanessa was indeed beautiful, and, as I knew only too well, practically dripped sex. I had said she was cute, but not gorgeous. I realized that I was only looking at her with my eyes then. There was another – side – to her.

Could I trust Siller in her arms? Why not? Vanessa belonged to Jack. No matter how wonderful the sex was, no matter how sweet the caresses, Vanessa would go back to Jack. That was the fail-safe.

How would I feel if the three of us were together, like, I guess Jack had been with Marguerite and Vanessa that night at Marguerite’s? Would I be jealous? Would I be competing with her for Siller’s affections? How did one guy even pleasure two women at the same time? That occupied my mental faculties for awhile. The more I thought about her, the more beautiful and powerful she became – unassailable, unreachable. Beyond compare. Ah fuck. It was just driving me nuts. I was going in circles.

I decided I would keep the bed. It hadn’t done me any harm.

“Siller, baby, my head is all screwed up right now. Let me try to get some sleep tonight. We’ve both got shit to do tomorrow. Let’s talk tomorrow night, OK? Will you have the time?”

“Baby, I’ll make the fucking time. There’s nothing more important to me than you, OK?

I loved hearing that. I could listen to him say that, over and over.

Siller held me in his arms. “I love you, Nikki. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. Nothing, you hear?”

I smiled up into his face. “I love hearing you say that. I’ll never get tired of hearing it. I love you too.”

With a kiss that was all too brief, he was out the door to his car.

I went back to my “fucking” bed, and for the first time in a long time, I fell to my knees beside it. I needed a few minutes with my thoughts, and with the old-time religion in which I had been raised.

After a moment, I headed for the shower. I had a lot of lovemaking to wash off. I wished it were that easy to launder my brain.

******

I was pretty busy the next morning. The Vanessa-Siller-Nicole triangle or sandwich or s’more or whatever the hell it was didn’t enter my thoughts too much, no more than once every ten seconds or so. I decided I was going to have to talk directly to Vanessa again to get my head around it. At some point, Jack and I were going to need to come to Jesus too; but that could wait. I had been so angry last night, but I felt that maybe I had been directing my anger in the wrong direction.

I had told Siller that I wanted to see him that night; but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try to figure out where Vanessa’s head was. Today was Monday; Tuesday was a light day for me, I only had an afternoon lab. Vanessa’s school was only an hour away; surely I could get down there and back in one night. Even if I got back really late, I could sleep in on Tuesday morning.

First, a quick call to Siller to tell him my plan. I knew he was usually back in the suite around noon on Mondays and fortunately I caught him in. He was concerned, but he told me to do whatever I thought was right, and he would support me. He also told me he loved me. I could listen to that man say that every hour on the hour.

My second call was to Vanessa. I figured my plan must be blessed because I caught her in between classes as well (this was before cell phones, remember). Otherwise, I would have had to leave a message with whoever answered her dorm phone, and hope it got delivered. Haphazard, I know, but that’s the way it was. At the last minute, I remembered to ask for Jeannie (my mouth was already forming the name “Vanessa”) when someone in her dorm picked up the phone. When Vanessa got to the phone, she sounded guarded; it was in the hallway of her dorm, so phone calls were everybody’s business. She welcomed me, said she could even put me up for the night if I wanted, as she was between roommates. I chuckled to myself. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like being an innocent young female college student in THAT room for a few months.

By 3 PM I was in my car and on the road. I had debated about what to wear. I had put on a skirt, stockings, and heels that morning. Not the ‘killer heels’ but much more modest pumps. Siller had liked the skirt-n-heels look so much last night that I had found myself “putting on the dog” in anticipation of seeing him again this evening, and then I hadn’t felt like changing. I had put on a thong, not sure why, except that going commando was something I would have to adjust to.

Vanessa had given me instructions on where to park, so I was able to find a spot pretty quickly in sight of her dorm. She lived in a classic long-hallway dorm with central bathrooms. Ugh. What a pain for just taking a shower or going to the toilet, much less doing makeup and hair.

Lots of people looked hard at me as I walked into the hallway. I was used to that; even after twenty-plus years of integration, there were still bastions of lily-whiteness in all southern schools except the HBCU (some readers may not know that stands for – historically black colleges and universities. Yes, it’s a thing).

I found Vanessa’s room easily enough, and knocked. Vanessa opened the door and smiled politely and invited me in. She closed the door behind me, locked it, and then turned around and immediately took me into her arms and soul-kissed me. I was taken aback a little; I had been through so much thinking and mental wrestling since I had last seen her, just 24 hours ago; but from her perspective, she had left me yesterday with a hot kiss on the lips, having just climbed out of bed with me. But blonde or not, Vanessa was quick to pick up on my mood.

“Nicole, what’s wrong? I’m so glad you came down! But I can tell something is bothering you.”

“Let’s sit down.” I responded. We sat down on the two beds, facing each other across the tiny room.

I outlined what had happened after she left, what Siller had told me, including the stuff about Rick and DeeDee. She nodded her head in agreement, but she seemed most concerned about what concerned me the most – my perception that somehow, her involvement with me was tied to an effort to get Siller into her bed (or her into Siller’s bed, whatever).

She was silent for a long while. Then she began to outline her perspective, which lined up mostly with what I had kind of eventually figured out for myself. She belonged to Jack, so she was no threat to Siller and I. In fact, they both wanted us to be successful as a couple, and both of them wanted us to be closer to them as a couple.

In short, it became clear to me that they would be most pleased if Siller and I were a strong, tightly bonded couple, who occasionally swapped partners with another strong, tightly bonded couple, namely Jack and Vanessa. Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

I guess I had actually seen that one coming. Jack wasn’t going to sit back forever, letting Vanessa roam the landscape fucking everyone in sight. In fact it was much more controlled than that; she was apparently permitted to engage with someone only with his direct guidance and approval.

Did I want to fuck Jack? Did he want to fuck me? I really hadn’t thought about it…anyway, that was not the issue at present. The real question on my mind today was, did I want Siller to fuck Vanessa? The answer that had been fermenting in my skull that morning was, yeah, kinda…but only if I could be there. The idea was sort of sexy, in a perverted, upside-down sort of way. I found sex with Vanessa dreamy and wonderful. I remembered her tongue burning its way down my legs and I felt my nipples get hard. Siller was passionate and demanding. I remembered the way he had forcefully pulled me onto him to better his penetration and I felt my pussy get wet. What would sex be like with both of them? Together? At the same time? Fuck!

There was a long silence while I was turning these thoughts over in my mind. It was broken by the rustle of clothes. Vanessa had kicked her flip-flops off, then stood up and pulled her t-shirt and shorts off, and was now busily removing her bra and panties. She stood there, no killer heels, no stockings or garter belt, no push-up bra. She looked younger, soft and fragile, like the day I had first held her in my arms to dry her tears – was that only Friday, just four days ago?

My eyes misted a little at the unassuming, unenhanced beauty of her fair skin, blonde hair, and open, welcoming smile. I held out my arms and she advanced and sat in my lap. We began to kiss – not the passionate, consuming kisses that we had shared – was it only yesterday? – but the gentle, questing nuzzling of two lovers discovering each other for the first time, or perhaps re-discovering each other after a long separation.

We kissed and nipped at each other’s lips, sometimes laughing with playfulness. She looked into my eyes, and then down, briefly, as her fingers sought the buttons on my blouse. Her hand slipped inside and once again I was taken by the heat in her slender pink-nailed fingers as they traced my shoulder blades, slipping the bra straps off.

She pulled the bra forward and down, and my breasts popped free together, the darker brown nipples already stiffening. Her small hands cupped them, thumbs on nips, and then she quickly followed them with her lips. I leaned back and rotated slightly to lay down lengthwise on the bed, kicking my heels off onto the floor.

Vanessa slid off my lap and stepped away for a moment – I heard her opening a drawer. When she returned she laid a handful of objects down on the bed beside me, and then continued to strip my blouse and bra off. Her hand then slid up the nylon-covered thigh underneath my skirt. She encountered the tops of the thigh-highs and then the thong and smiled at me. I lifted my hips as she slipped the tiny piece of cloth off. She didn’t bother with the stockings or skirt, only pushing the latter higher on my hips.

Next I felt her hot breath on my pussy. Her lips and tongue caressed my outer lips and then penetrated me – and then I heard/felt a gentle buzzing sound. The buzzing came from some kind of small vibrator, I guess. The buzzing feeling began to penetrate my cunny as her pirate tongue set out to capture my little man in the boat. He surrendered willingly to her caresses and my temperature began to climb.

But something new was coming; Vanessa rolled me gently over, and I felt a dampness as she cleaned my little rosebud, perhaps with a makeup wipe. She followed it with – her tongue! Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I breathed slowly, not my usual exclamation but almost an incantation. She kissed and tongued this little back door for a moment, and then I felt something else, slightly wet, but thicker – a lubricant of some kind.

She moved back up to where her lips were next to my ear and whispered, “Relax, it will go in easier.” This, of course, had the immediate, opposite effect of making me tense up. But she continued to urge me to let go in a soft, but persuasive, whisper.

Finally, I felt something hard nudge my anus. She pushed it slowly inward. It wasn’t too big; it was nowhere near the size of, for example, Siller’s cock. It had a shape like a small dick, with a head slightly bigger than the immediately following circumference. I knew this, of course, because the little head popped inside and the object, whatever it was, stopped there.

She rolled me back over and began again to work her magic in my girly garden – hmmm, I guess that was no longer an appropriate euphemism, as there was no longer any vegetation in my “garden.” Still, her tongue again captured the little boat and its captain, the buzzing vibration continued up the length of my vaginal canal and I forgot about gardens, or boats, or much of anything.

While she licked and kissed, she gently pushed and pulled on the anal penetrator, whatever it was, sending paroxysms of confused feelings throughout my loins. Then, unexpectedly, it started buzzing gently. I was caught between these two powerful instruments of gentle sexual torture. I began to cry out, quietly at first, still aware of where I was, and then louder and louder as I began to lose any idea of decorum.

Vanessa leaned back, picked up my discarded thong, looked at what a tiny scrap of cloth it was, and then dropped it and picked up her own panties from the floor. She balled them up and looked questioningly at me. I wasn’t sure what she wanted for a moment – and then she pressed them to my lips. A gag! She wanted to gag me! But it made sense. We were in a tiny dorm room, on a hall with many other rooms, with insulation probably manufactured and installed fifty years ago. I nodded and opened my mouth to accept her offering.

Having suitably silenced me, she returned to ministering to my pussy and ass. And I returned to screaming/wailing/thrashing. It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar, but somehow new, approach of the shivering and shuddering that accompanied my orgasm. It blasted through me in wave after wave, somehow enhanced by the penetration and stimulation of my ass as well as my puss. Whew!

Throughout it all, Vanessa had received no reciprocation other than me returning her kiss. Once my senses had returned almost to normal, she pulled the soaking panties from my mouth, shook them out, and looked at them with resignation. She hung them over the side of a dirty clothes basket and stood up. Disdaining the shorts she had been wearing, she pulled on a miniskirt and crop top, without adding a bra or panties, and then pulled on a pair of socks and slipped on a set of high-heeled ankle boots from her closet. There was a sink in the room, with a small mirrored cabinet above. She looked in the mirror, made a few minor makeup repairs, fluffed her hair a little, and then looked down at me.

“Feel like getting something to eat?” she asked brightly, as if I hadn’t just had the top of my head blown off through my ass.

“Eat? But what about you…” I tapered off without saying more.

She smiled invitingly. “Well you ARE staying the night aren’t you? I’ll get my chance. And I have better gags than that one.” She giggled a little.

I guess I was. Staying. And I think another decision had been made. One involving Siller. And probably, down the road, Jack.

“Can’t we just order in?” I said, sounding a little more plaintive than I meant.

“Oh pooh. I want to show you off!”

“Show me off, as your girlfriend? I repeat – deep in the heart of Dixie, bible belt – etcetera, etcetera.”

“Show you off, as my friend, who happens to be a smart, beautiful, tall, athletic, black girl. Black, white, yellow, whatever. You are my friend. I love you. I want people to see you, so that when I say, “my friend, Nicole,” they put a face to a name. A face I adore. See?” She finished brightly.

I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

After some repair of my own, we headed out. To show me off. Some crazy cracker bitch she had turned out to be.

 

-to be continued-

 

 

 

Published 5 years ago

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