Read FillingtheVoid Online

Authors: Zenobia Renquist

FillingtheVoid (6 page)

BOOK: FillingtheVoid
3.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Arisa presented the tray to Naomie. “For you, my lovely.”

“Thank you.” Naomie reached for a red-and-white-swirled
piece. She guessed it was strawberry.

Fred smacked her hand, making her drop the piece. “No, you
don’t.”

“But I—” Her protest died as Fred grabbed the piece Naomie
had been aiming for. “Fred, I wanted that.”

“So take it.” Fred held it in front of Naomie’s face.

“Ah.” Naomie opened her mouth to receive it but Fred pulled
it away. She leaned forward, following Fred’s hand until she caught it, taking
the cheesecake and Fred’s fingers into her mouth.

Fred used Naomie’s new position to slip her free hand under
Naomie’s ass so she could tickle her pussy lips.

Naomie squirmed and squeaked while trying to eat the piece
at the same time. She wasn’t going to let a little arousal distract her from
eating Arisa’s creations. They were sex for her taste buds, which amounted to foreplay.
Though Fred preferred the more direct approach. The woman rubbed Naomie’s lower
lips so her thong slipped between them.

Arisa said, “There’s a five-piece minimum before you can
play.”

“Fine.” Fred pulled her fingers from Naomie’s mouth, which
got a perturbed sound from Naomie at the loss, and grabbed five of the closest
pieces. Fred popped them into her mouth one after the other in rapid
succession. Naomie got the feeling Fred swallowed them whole, which was a
complete waste. Fred grinned at her wife. “Done. Now I can play and I’ve been
waiting to play with Naomie all morning. Especially this right here.”

The pad of her thumb pressed against Naomie’s asshole. Both
startled. Though Naomie’s was from heightened arousal at the unexpected
stimulation while Fred’s was from surprise.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Fred jostled Naomie forward into the
edge of the table at the same time she yanked up Naomie’s microskirt and peered
at her ass. “Where the hell is your plug?”

Mia snickered and said, “This is about the time I make a
joke about her being charged already.”

Arisa laughed with her. “Or a battery-operated toy.”

The women toasted with the cheesecake bites and then ate
them.

Fred said, “Ha. Ha. Her plug is missing.”

Naomie, who was draped over the table but didn’t mind since
it put her closer to the food tray, said, “I already told you I didn’t have sex
with Dane this morning. He puts it in when we finish. We didn’t even start.”
She grabbed another bite, choosing cherry this time.

A bit of cream stuck to her fingers so she licked it off
before going in for another piece. She paused when she noticed the others had
stopped moving. A quick glance around revealed she suddenly had everyone’s
attention.

Naomie looked back and forth between Arisa and Mia. “What?”

Fred laid kisses on Naomie’s shoulders. “Oh, baby doll, baby
doll. Don’t you know that plug was the only thing keeping us away from your
ass?” She pressed her thumb forward, not enough to penetrate, and wiggled it.

Naomie gasped before letting loose a happy moan and shifting
on Fred’s lap. “If you wanted me to take it out, you should have said so.”

Mia said, “Dane put it in and only he can take it out.”

“It’s not like that.”


You
don’t think it’s like that. I guarantee he does.
That man is marking his territory and we respect that. However he didn’t today
so you know what that means…” Naomie could swear she saw a glint in the corner
of Mia’s right eye.

Fred said, “Open season.” She stood, forcing Naomie to do
the same.

Naomie didn’t get a chance to ask what Fred was doing
because the woman stepped to the side and pulled Naomie back onto the stool.
Naomie shook her head but moved as prompted until she sat half off the stool
with her ass over air, her thighs parted to maintain her perch and her breasts
resting on the table.

“There you go, baby doll. Stay just like that.” Fred framed
her hands around Naomie’s ass. “Now don’t move, unless you want to squirm. You
know how much I love when you squirm.”

Naomie gripped the edge of the table. She knew what was
coming. Fred loved anal play. Arisa praised and lamented the fact whenever the
subject came up since it was her ass Fred played with the most. And to date the
plug Naomie normally wore had kept Fred at bay. The woman had relegated herself
to licking the plug’s jeweled base and grumbling about its presence. She’d also
tugged on it as a way of teasing but had never removed it.

Of course Naomie had known Fred wanted the plug gone. She’d
also known how intense the weekly session would be without it.
Self-preservation had kept Naomie from removing it. Exhaustion had made her
forget it wasn’t there today.

As Fred slid her tongue from the edge of Naomie’s slit to
her asshole and then hooked the end of her ball stud inside her hole, Naomie
knew her friends would be making up for the years of missed opportunities. She
prayed for strength and endurance because she hadn’t gotten enough sleep for
this.

A pleasured cry left her when Fred flicked the tip of her
tongue in rapid motion against Naomie’s hole. That was Fred’s signature move
and it had made each woman in the room—and the missing Kristine—orgasm in less
than a minute each time she’d employed it. Naomie was no exception. Nipples,
clit or asshole—once Fred got her tongue going, release would soon follow.

The food tray started rattling. Naomie couldn’t figure out
why until she realized her body was quivering, which caused the table to shake.
Mia and Arisa watched her with rapt fascination, both women smiling wide and
munching cheesecake bites like popcorn in a movie theater.

Naomie was their feature film and she was about to climax.
Her wet pussy slicked the stool and eased the way for her to shift in tight
little circles.

“I knew your ass was your weak spot. No wonder you always
keep it hidden.” Fred delivered that statement with smug satisfaction.

Naomie couldn’t deny it, mostly because Fred dipping her
tongue into Naomie’s asshole rendered all higher brain function inactive. “Oh!
Oh yes! Oh God, yes!”

She reached back one hand, grasped Fred’s head and pulled
the woman closer. She wanted Fred deeper. Yes, Naomie’s asshole was her weak
spot. She no longer cared if the women knew so long as they used the knowledge
against her toward a pleasurable end.

An end where Naomie dropped her head to the table as she
cried out her release. She alternated between satisfied moans and pitiful
whimpers. The orgasm had taken a lot out of her, not that she’d had much to
give.

Fred retreated after a final lick and grazed her teeth over
one of Naomie’s ass cheeks. She straightened, pressing her breasts against
Naomie’s back. Close to Naomie’s neck, she said, “You know that was just the
intro, right, baby doll? And this isn’t a bar so putting your head down doesn’t
mean anything.” She edged her hand under the string of Naomie’s thong and then
slipped a single finger inside Naomie’s pussy.

An instant shot of pleasure arced through Naomie. She sat up
straight and then sagged back, trusting Fred to support her. Naomie snaked her
torso, rubbing herself against Fred, and purred. A single finger shouldn’t get
her this excited. She guessed her body was still primed after her session with
Jaime.

Arisa said, “I love watching her when she gets squirmy.”

“You and me both,” Mia said. “She makes me want to come and
no one is touching me.”

“Yet.”

“Yes, yet. But Fred started this show with Naomie.”

“I agree. And it’s not fair for Fred to have all the fun.”
Arisa retrieved a chocolate-swirl cheesecake bite from the tray.

Naomie opened her mouth, thinking Arisa would feed it to
her. Instead Arisa slipped her free hand under Naomie’s top, shifted it so it
revealed her right breast, and then placed the bite on Naomie’s nipple. She had
to hold it in place since Naomie was moving too much for it to stay there on
its own.

The cool dessert made Naomie’s nipple grow taut. As Arisa lowered
her head, Naomie started panting in anticipation. Arisa’s hot mouth surrounded
the bite and Naomie’s nipple, taking them both in and sucking them at the same
time. The cream melted with their combined heat. Arisa used her tongue to paint
it over and around Naomie’s nipple just so she could lick it off again.

When the last remnants of the bite were gone, Arisa
continued relishing the hard bud between her lips. Her sounds of delight
mingled with Naomie’s hard breathing. Naomie knew how to make Arisa louder, how
to give as good—if not better—as she was getting.

Naomie released the table and moved her hand to Arisa’s
thigh, using her smooth skin as guide to her pussy. Panties, wet panties,
blocked Naomie’s way. Panties. Why had Arisa bothered? It always seemed as
though Naomie was the only one who dressed knowing the clothes would be coming
off in a hurry, especially today of all days.

Then again, that’s how she always dressed. She decided not
to the let the thin cotton impede her progress or ruin the mood. In fact, once
she maneuvered her hand down the front and cupped Arisa’s pussy, the panties
held Naomie’s hand in place. Maybe they were a good idea after all.

Arisa shifted closer to Naomie and widened her stance,
swaying her hips side to side. Naomie enjoyed the silky moisture that greeted
her fingers when she caressed Arisa’s lower lips. Arisa let out high-pitched,
needy squeaks each time Naomie got close to her clit. Naomie liked the sound so
much she continued dodging Arisa’s clit just to hear it.

Naomie let out a squeak of her own when Fred added a second
finger inside her pussy and thrust them hard enough that Naomie shifted up on
the stool as she circled her hips, trying to take them deeper.

Fred asked, “You teasing my cookie?”

Naomie shook her head.

“You sure? Because that sounds like begging to me.”

“You would know,” Naomie said in a breathy voice.

Fred pulled her fingers back and thrust them again. “Did I
just hear sass?”

“Yup. You heard this too.” Naomie nudged the hood of Arisa’s
clit and the woman answered with a begging whine.

“You are just asking for it, aren’t you?” Fred pumped her
fingers fast.

“Oh yes, I am. Give it to me.” Naomie scooted farther back
on the stool until only her knees around the edge and Fred at her back kept her
from falling over. The legs of the stool grated against the tile flooring
because of Naomie’s bouncing to meet Fred.

Finger play, not even fingers that felt as good as Fred’s,
wouldn’t get Naomie off, but the internal massage had its own merits that
Naomie thoroughly savored. She shared the sensation with Arisa, finally
flicking the woman’s clit.

Arisa ripped her mouth from Naomie’s nipple at the same time
she squeezed her thighs together. Fine shivers vibrated her clit against
Naomie’s hand. Her change in position didn’t stop Naomie’s attention. She
continued wagging the tip of her finger over Arisa’s clit with a speed that
would make most stimulators jealous. Fred had her instant-orgasm tongue and
Naomie had magic fingers.

Naomie had Arisa bobbing in place and moaning loud. Fred
reached over Naomie with her free hand so she could pull Arisa to her for a
deep kiss. Arisa hugged Fred as best she could with Naomie between them. A
light pinch to Arisa’s clit sent her into her orgasm. Arisa let out crying
pants between kisses. Only when Arisa was whimpering in the way Naomie had been
earlier did Naomie pull her hand free.

Arisa dropped to her knees, breathing hard. She appeared
dazed.

Naomie grinned at her handiwork. Bringing her damp fingers
to her lips, she licked them with a proud smirk. “Next.”

Fred, who hadn’t stopped treating Naomie’s pussy to her
fingers, asked, “Mia, you planning on joining the fun or just watching?”

“I’m still debating.” Mia had hungry lust filling her dark
gaze but she didn’t go in for teasing. She was the all-or-nothing type,
claiming foreplay was for men who needed to confuse their women into thinking
they had lasted longer than a minute. That wasn’t to say she didn’t like
foreplay. She just preferred getting to the point for the Tuesday get-togethers
since time was a factor.

Her husband would be home in another three or four hours.
Arisa had taken the day off but for her that only meant a few hours. She had to
return to start the preparations for the next day’s business. Fred would leave
with Arisa because she didn’t like her wife roaming around at night without
backup. Naomie liked being home before Dane so she could greet him with a kiss
and possibly welcome-home sex…depending on how hard his day had been.

If Kristine had been there, she would have whined and
complained about having to leave in time to get home before her kids, which
usually meant she left long before the others, who only paused long enough to
wave her out the door. Likewise, whenever Kristine hosted, she had an alarm set
up so she could get the ladies dressed again and respectable. If that meant
cutting them off two seconds before a mind-blowing orgasm…oh well.

And no, Naomie hadn’t been happy about that either. She’d
jumped Dane the second he got home from work that day, not that he’d minded.
The girls had suggested skipping Kristine’s house but the woman insisted. None
of them could relax there, which meant it took them a while to get into the
spirit of the day.

Frankly Naomie wanted Kristine to stop. Period. No more
hosting. No more get-togethers. She loved Kristine and they were close but they
were platonic close. Naomie felt nothing when Kristine touched her—and refused
to fake it—and had found plenty of ways to avoid engaging the woman. With five
women in the room, it was easy to lose track of whose hands belonged to
whom…for them. Naomie always knew who was touching her. Since Kristine didn’t
know, Naomie used that to her advantage.

Peer pressure and a lot of white wine had led to Kristine’s
initial participation. Mia, Arisa, Fred and Naomie had been fucking each other
for weeks before Kristine figured it out. While Kristine had said she wanted in
on the fun, she couldn’t bring herself to do it until she had some alcohol in
her system. Though her definition of some was almost an entire box of wine.

BOOK: FillingtheVoid
3.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Kiss Me, Dancer by Alicia Street, Roy Street
The Namesake by Fitzgerald, Conor
Hitler by Joachim C. Fest
Desert Storm by Isabella Michaels
Monumental Propaganda by Vladimir Voinovich
Archangel by Sharon Shinn