FillingtheVoid (7 page)

Naomie understood being nervous. Her first time with a girl
had been her high school boyfriend’s sister after prom. She’d been jumpy and
unsure. Rather than going to a motel for the stereotypical after-prom
activities, Naomie had ended up driving her drunk boyfriend home and praying
his parents wouldn’t be there to greet them. Thankfully his parents had been
out, but his sister—home from college—had been in. A joint bitch fest about how
stupid the boyfriend was for drinking himself into a stupor led to “comfort
hugging” to “groping hugging” to kissing and then beyond.

From that day until Naomie graduated high school the
following year, she and her boyfriend’s sister had a sexual relationship hidden
behind spending girl time together. Her boyfriend discovered the relationship
two seconds after his sister gave Naomie a deep, passionate kiss following
graduation. The blowup that ensued—complete with yelling and name-calling—had
taught Naomie the value of an open relationship.

She hadn’t liked sneaking around, not like that. She’d had
other relationships at the time that required secrecy but those had been
non-emotionally-involved affairs. For someone she’d loved or thought she’d
loved, the lies and pretending grated on her nerves and made the relationship
feel dirty. As much as she liked sex, she’d decided then and there the man who
ended up with her—and by then she’d known it wouldn’t be her
then-boyfriend—would have to realize he would be sharing her.

Dane was that man. They’d carried their open relationship
from college into an open marriage. That worked for them. It worked for Arisa
and Fred. It worked for Mia and Quincy. It didn’t work for Kristine because her
husband didn’t know about her extracurricular activities when she was out with
the girls.

Stuart truly thought Kristine and her friends were sitting
around a table, eating bonbons and talking. Naomie had lost the ability to look
him in the eyes. She didn’t like being around him at all because the same
feeling that plagued her in high school had returned.

Guilt.

Gnawing, gut-twisting guilt. The others knew how she felt.
They had tried to talk to Kristine but the woman wouldn’t hear any of it. She’d
insisted Stuart wouldn’t care. At the same time, she’d refused to tell him and
find out for sure.

Kristine had said it was harmless fun to blow off steam—a
sentiment with which Naomie agreed, though she didn’t appreciate Kristine using
that as an excuse to deceive her husband. But Naomie had dropped the subject.
Kristine was a grown woman. She knew where Naomie stood, knew why Naomie
refused to visit the house outside of the get-togethers or be with the family
the way she used to.

Dane knew it too and had been made to promise to keep his
mouth shut since he, Stuart and Quincy met up on the odd occasion with a few
others for guys’ night out—a strictly platonic affair that usually involved a
strip club and an obscene amount of ones. The guys had put more than a few
dancers through college—or whatever the excuse was now.

Naomie saw a major blowup in Kristine and Stuart’s future.
The fallout of which would probably end their marriage and the connection to
their friends. Maybe the intuition of that coming event was the reason Naomie
no longer felt any attraction to Kristine. She had at one point. She must have.
Naomie would have never touched Kristine if she hadn’t been attracted to her
and she remembered enjoying Kristine as much as the others.

Finding out Stuart didn’t know the true purpose of Tuesdays
made Naomie start pulling away. It wouldn’t be so hard to say goodbye to
Kristine and Stuart when or if the break happened. Something this big could
only end in a breakup. Naomie had seen it before when people tried to emulate
her and Dane’s lifestyle but went about it the wrong way.

Whatever the reason, Naomie was glad Kristine wasn’t there
today. She felt sorry for Kristine’s daughter and hoped the girl was okay but
at the same time Naomie saw fate’s hand or divine intervention at work.
Kristine was with her family where she belonged. Naomie, Mia, Arisa and Fred
were more relaxed, which also made them more playful.

Arisa grabbed Naomie’s calf and pulled it close so she could
kiss Naomie’s ankle—light, feathery passes of Arisa’s lips over Naomie’s skin.
Naomie couldn’t stop her tittering giggles. She was ticklish in all the usual
spots and Arisa was teasing one of them. Arisa ignored Naomie’s attempts to get
free. She removed Naomie’s sandal so she could drag the point of her finger
back and forth under Naomie’s foot.

Naomie laughed while moving her leg in random directions to
get away. Arisa let out an evil cackle, not relenting. When Naomie tried to
lean forward to get off the stool, Fred snatched her fingers from Naomie’s
pussy and grabbed her arms.

Naomie squeaked. “No, let go.”

Mia said, “No, hold her. I want in on this.” She hopped off
her stool, trotted the few steps to Naomie and started fluttering her
fingertips over Naomie’s sides.

“No. No. No.” Naomie continued her denials while gasping for
air and laughing. Below her, Arisa continued tormenting the foot she held.
Behind her, Fred pulled Naomie’s elbows back so she could thread one arm
through them, locking Naomie in place. Fred then returned her two fingers to
Naomie’s pussy. She wiggled them as she pumped.

Naomie screamed with laughter. No matter which way she
twisted or how she moved, she couldn’t get free. Her state became more frantic
as Mia trailed one hand down to tickle the exposed back of her knee. Arisa held
Naomie’s foot in a firm grip to keep Naomie from bending her leg. Tears streamed
down Naomie’s cheeks from all her laughing.

Arisa raised a hand and waved it as she released Naomie. Mia
stepped back and Fred let go of Naomie though she stayed behind her to keep her
from slumping over as she sagged.

With a smug smile, Arisa said, “And that’s what you get for
making me beg.”

Between labored pants, Naomie rasped, “Bitch.”

Fred smacked Naomie’s ass. “Watch it, baby doll. No one gets
to call her that but me and only when I’ve got her tied up.”

Arisa said in a pouting voice, “And we left the ropes at
home too.”

Thank God! Naomie did not want these women tying her up. Who
knew what they would do with her at their full mercy. They were doing enough to
her and she was only partially fatigued. If this had been a normal day, they
wouldn’t be able to do quite so much to her because she would be able to get
away and turn the play back on them.

She made a mental note to never, ever again come to a
Tuesday get-together tired. It left her too vulnerable.

Mia and Fred helped Naomie to her feet. The stool Naomie had
been sitting on was soaked. The tile flooring had dark scuff marks Mia would
have a time trying to remove. Served her right.

Naomie asked in a hopeful voice, “Someone else’s turn?”

The ladies chuckled. Mia said, “Not this time,
mamí
.
Today is all about you.” She lifted Naomie’s top over her head and then placed
it on the table. “We’re all curious why Dane keeps your ass all to himself.”

Fred said, “There’s only one reason I can think of and I
plan to find out if I’m right.” She cupped Naomie’s ass cheeks and bounced them
one at a time. “Right after cookie gets her treat.”

Naomie didn’t bother trying to argue. Someone played the
center of attention every week. All the women got off, but one was on the
receiving end of most of the play. The role usually belonged to the host, which
made things interesting when at Arisa and Fred’s place. But the women had
already declared open season on Naomie because of her missing anal plug. And
she’d been late.

She had hosted last week so this would be her second time as
the focus. Given the way her day was going, it figured.

“First let’s get this stupid thing out of the way.” Arisa
slipped Naomie’s G-string off and tossed it over her shoulder. “I don’t see the
point of those things. You might as well go without.”

Naomie said, “I would but Dane likes me to at least
pretend.”

“So pretend with him but don’t bother wearing it with us. It
just gets in the way.”

“My thong gets in the way? What about you, Ms. Granny
Panties?”

“I am
not
wearing granny panties. These are bikini-cut
cotton undies, thank you very much.”

“Granny panties,” Naomie and Mia said in unison.

Arisa swung her extended middle finger at both of them in
turn.

Fred said, “Leave my cookie alone. Her panties are cute. She
has a pair of crotchless ones that I love. Makes it more interesting when we go
to the movies.”

Naomie shook her head. “I don’t see the point of crotchless
panties. Just go without.”

Arisa said, “Some of us like to give the illusion of
propriety.”

“Whatever. Still seems like a waste of money to me.”

“And this conversation is a waste of time.” Arisa shuffled
on her knees toward Naomie. “Open up.”

Fred laughed. “My cookie gets bossy when she wants to eat
out.” Fred lifted Naomie’s right knee onto the vacated stool. “Wet and pretty
as a picture.” Fred reached down and spread Naomie’s pussy lips. “Soups on,
cookie.”

Arisa cupped Naomie’s inner thighs as she ducked her head
and ran her tongue the length of Naomie’s slit from asshole to clit. The woman
made a delighted sound of satisfaction, as though tasting the most delicious
food in the world, and then did it again. “I love eating this cute little pussy
so much. If you didn’t belong to Dane, Fred and I would take you home and eat
you out every night.”

Fred said, “If she didn’t belong to Dane, I could get my
hands on her ass more often. We all know that won’t happen. I plan to enjoy
myself thoroughly, seeing as how this might be a one-time thing.”

Naomie didn’t like the sound of that. Fred went down on one
knee behind her and Naomie knew what was coming. She couldn’t mentally brace
herself though she did grab the table edge for support a second before Fred’s
tongue returned to her asshole, circling the rim.

At the same time, Arisa latched on to Naomie’s clit,
alternating between sucking the bud and teasing it with the tip of her tongue.
Naomie had to put her free hand on Arisa’s shoulder as her left leg started
shaking. A high, pleasured keen left Naomie’s lips. She wouldn’t be able to
stay standing.

Mia said, “I got you,
mamí
.” She planted herself against
Naomie’s left side with one arm curved around Naomie’s waist, keeping her
upright. She grinned. “Wouldn’t want you to fall and end the fun early. Arisa
and Fred have barely gotten started.”

Naomie wanted to reply with a piece of her mind, telling Mia
exactly what she thought of the woman’s help, but Fred chose that moment to
bury her tongue inside Naomie’s hole. Fred’s piercing teased Naomie’s puckered
opening as she curved and snaked her tongue. The balls on either side of the
ring caressed Naomie in a way that had her digging her fingers into Arisa’s
shoulder and scratching up the table edge. Naomie babbled nonsense meant to be
a plea for Fred to slow down, possibly for her to stop.

Maybe.

Not.

She had to talk Dane into getting a tongue ring, assuming
she could form coherent sentences after this.

“Good job, you two,” Mia said. “You’ve got her speaking in
tongues.”

Stopping her ministrations, Arisa said, “Bet you I can make
her see God.”

Arisa wiggled two fingers above her head so Naomie could see
them. Naomie let loose a pitiful whimper because she knew what was
coming…besides her. Arisa inserted those digits into Naomie’s drenched pussy
and swept her fingertips up and down over Naomie’s inner sweet spot at the same
time she returned to sucking Naomie’s clit.

Naomie let loose a squeal that rivaled that a teenage girl
shaking the hand of her favorite boy-band idol for the first time. She couldn’t
help herself and hadn’t known she could get her voice that high anymore. This
sensation called for it.

Arisa had gone down on Naomie many times in the past months
without a reaction like that. But Fred hadn’t been down there licking Naomie’s
asshole at the same time. Naomie bounced in place against Mia, who had a firm
grip on Naomie.

Mia was stronger than she appeared. She would keep Naomie
trapped between Arisa and Fred until the women called time or Naomie dissolved
into a boneless puddle. Naomie knew the latter would happen first. Neither
Arisa nor Fred showed signs of ending their attention any time soon.

In fact Fred started nudging at Naomie’s pussy, trying to
slip a third finger in behind Arisa’s. Naomie’s channel opened wider to
accommodate the penetration. Fred twisted her wrist side to side as she pumped
her hand.

Naomie’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. Arisa was wrong.
Naomie didn’t see God. She was in heaven though so he had to be around there
somewhere. She let her head fall back as she arched her body, sagging against
Mia completely. Mia took advantage of the position and passed her tongue over
Naomie’s left nipple.

The sensation shouldn’t have been so acute, shouldn’t have
driven Naomie closer to the orgasm the women probably wanted from her before
they released her to attend to each other. The quivering bud was still
sensitive from Jaime’s attention.

Naomie wanted to warn Mia off. Her poor nipple couldn’t take
much more. She couldn’t move her hand from Arisa’s shoulder. The muscles in her
fingers had locked.

Naomie managed to rasp between labored gasps, “No-not…
not…le-le-left.”

“This left?” Mia asked as she tugged at the dangling jewel.
“What’s the matter,
mamí
? You love when I play with your ring. You
saying it’s too much?” She poked the end of her pinkie into the hoop as if
trying to slip it on.

Naomie’s nipple in the way meant it wouldn’t happen, but
that wasn’t Mia’s goal. The woman was teasing, rubbing the tip of Naomie’s
nipple how she knew Naomie enjoyed it the most. Naomie still needed to stop her
before the intensity of this session made her explode.