Amber’s New Vitamins
Amber Gray tries new vitamins.
I
How she ended up with two lesbian neighbors, Amber couldn’t begin to guess. Two apartments faced two apartments across a cement walkway painted pastel pink. Her apartment was on the second floor of a three story complex, and the walkway was covered.
Usually she could get through the walkway and go down the stairs without bumping into her dyke neighbors, but that afternoon her luck didn’t hold.
Oh, she didn’t hate them.
That’s too harsh.
She just.
You know, she just.
And anyway, not around her, you know? Somewhere else, yeah, fine. But not around her.
But Sally leapt from the top step right into the walkway, her neighbor one door down, a cute enough girl in her own way, friendly and bright, cheerful. Just, well, a tomboy, a queer girl. Short blonde pixie cut, usually covered by a red or black ball cap, faded jeans and black boots or heavy shoes. The inevitable black tee shirt, usually with something rude scrawled on it like, Cope With It, Bitch or Try Me, I’m a Dyke.
Thankfully, the girl was never rude herself.
“Hey Amber, what’s up?”
“Um. You know. The usual, nothing.”
Then she checked the door, made sure she locked it, and scampered off. No sense it getting to know her. No sense in leading her on.
Not that she didn’t love her apartment.
Her neighbors were never loud, everything was kept clean and tidy, no bottles, beer cans, cigarette butts, or food trash left out in the open. Management kept up the gym room, and the pool area was covered against too much or too little sun.
Yeah, sure.
It cost her an arm and a leg, and she’d been worried about income ever since her dad’s last warning about a job.
“I’m a student, Dad. I shouldn’t have to work.”
“You can work part time. Surely your college has student workers?”
Amber’s stomach sank at that. The very idea.
But she was able to buy some time, proclaiming vociferously and vehemently that studies just filled up all her time.
“I have to keep my grades up, Dad. And I’m just slammed this year. Eighteen hours.”
A minor fib.
She carried fifteen. A lot of course work, not undoable, but she couldn’t possibly find time to work in all that studying.
Partying and clubbing, sure.
But work?
Um. No.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she turned right and walked past the community bulletin board set inside a partially enclosed kiosk. Out of curiosity she browsed the offerings until her eyes met a call for participants in a new vitamin program offered by Essenza-Craft.
It seemed they paid a couple of hundred bucks a week for a 6-week vitamin intake study. Details were a little vague, a little sketchy, but it couldn’t hurt to look them up, could it? Essenza-Craft?
She wasn’t familiar with the name, but she pulled a tab containing a phone number off the poster. She’d look the group up later.
Two hundred bucks a week just for taking vitamins was nothing to look down on.
Free money was, after all, free.
II
They were out west, Essenza-Craft. From some place called Edge City. She thought maybe she’d heard of it, but geology wasn’t really her thing. It was a small group, and its origins were a little vague. Apparently they were an offshoot of The Diana Group before they got swallowed up T.E.I. The Entertainment Industry.
She kept reading the website.
They had new leadership. The Entertainment Industry, or T.E.I or EI for short, had bought them out, and their new CEO, Iris Light, promised a new era of enlightened entertainment fueled by digital pharmacology, whatever that was.
She couldn’t find out anything about the vitamin trials though. Calling the number she pulled off proved to be her only option.
So she called.
Talked, asked questions, listened, and made an appointment.
For the very next day.
III
Whatever misgivings Amber harbored were quickly allayed by the clean, modern architecture of the small pentagonal building set in the middle of its own parking lot. Trees grew throughout the paved space, providing plenty of shade, and well-trimmed hedges concealed the building from street view.
Everything green was trimmed and, well, green. Vibrant. Alive. Birds chirped loudly as Amber walked to the entrance, and squirrels darted right across her feet, secure in the harmlessness of humanity.
Amber opened one of the double glass doors framed in black enameled luminium
The welcome lobby was big, cleanly tiled, and tastefully decorated with original artwork evidently bought by a corporate purchaser who knew her business. But Amber didn’t know anything about that. Nor did she really care or notice, which was the point.
Huge paintings of pink abstracts, all vaguely feminine, swirling with female forms and faces, peered down from the high walls of the lobby as Amber walked to the front desk to check-in for her appointment.
Four or five short rows of cushioned chairs were arrayed to Amber’s right, facing the front desk. Three other girls were sitting down, filling out forms or checking messages on their phones. Amber wondered whether they were here for the same treatment, and whether she’d have to wait long.
The receptionist welcomed Amber with a huge, friendly grin, and her eyes twinkled with mirth and cheerfulness.
“Amber? Amber Gray? It’s so nice to have you here. The other girls are checking in right now, but don’t worry. We’re right on time, and there’s no wait. You won’t be receiving the same treatment together. But Dr. Essenza can explain all that to you.”
Amber smiled inwardly with relief.
She didn’t want to be part of a group treatment, all that chitchat and getting to know people, women, you’d never see again. Exchanging numbers you’d never call, making plans you’d never keep. Amber hated all that.
Oh, not that she was reclusive. By no means, she could chat and shmooze with the best of them, but this morning, this morning saw her in no mood for any of that.
Pink.
And yellow.
Amber realized that the reception was done up almost entirely in pink and yellow, magenta lipstick, yellow stripes on a bright pink blouse, blond hair with even blonder highlights in a bob style with bangs cut straight above her eyebrows, a glittery yellow eyeshadow above her eyes lined with yellow and white flower shapes, and pink mascara. It really was kind of.
Well. It suited her well, the pink and yellow blouse, unbuttoned to show off a very impressive breast cupped by the pink lace of her brassier.
The receptionist licked her glossy lips with the pink tip of her tongue, nudging Amber from her reverie.
“So just have a seat and fill out this form. Don’t worry. It’s long. Just basic information that we’ll keep totally private.”
The receptionist winked at her, and Amber read her name tag.
Laci.
Amber avoided meeting Laci’s eyes, recognizing the flirtation.
She sat down in the nearest seat.
She caught Laci staring at her from behind her monitor. Amber crossed her legs, regretting her decision to wear such a short skirt.
Amber sighed at the length of the questionnaire, wondering why she couldn’t have just typed this all in beforehand. Surely this place had a secure website, a health portal for checking in? But no, no web portal, just a think paper pad on a clipboard, asking for the usual information. Name, address, email, phone. Gender. Marital status.
Blah, blah, blah.
Bloody type.
Tuberculosis history, vaccinations, allergies.
Blah, blah, blah.
Surgical history, gastroenterology history.
My god.
A bunch gynecological questions, medical history questions. Amber put the clipboard down and yawned. Did she really need the money this badly?
“Would you like something to drink?”
Laci’s bright and pleasant voice startled Amber.
Amber looked up to see the receptionist holding up a small pink bottle.
“I forgot to offer you some, poor thing. Filling out all those questions is so boring. You need something yummy for all that work.”
Amber cringed.
Why was Laci speaking to her like she was three years old?
Yummy?
What kind of grown woman says yummy?
One of the girls two rows behind her spoke up.
“You really should try some. It’s so.”
Amber turned to look at her, the girl who spoke.
She wore blue gym shorts, a tie-dye tee shirt, and she pulled her light brown hair in a very loose tail behind her head so that her hair loosely frame her round, heart-shaped face.
“Um. Okay. Thanks,” Amber stammered.
She went back to her questionnaire, but Laci was already standing in front of her, pale yellow hose running up her curvy legs into a pink denim skirt. Amber immediately thought of a pink and yellow honey bee.
“Here,” Laci said, almost giggling. “You won’t believe how yummy it is.”
Amber read the label, dark magenta letters on a bright neon pink background filled with pink bubbles.
N? Pink.
“Thank you,” Amber said, somewhat curtly. So? She didn’t want to encourage the girl.
Laci padded off to her station, her round backside swaying right to left, left to right as she walked, her pale yellow hose swishing as her thighs touched.
Amber twisted the pink top, upturned the bottle for a timid taste, and swallowed.
Oh my.
It tasted so.
Yummy.
She heard Laci giggle behind her counter.
“See? I told you so!”
IV
She took several more sips before turning her attention back to the form.
Gender.
She read the options and didn’t know how to respond.
- Agender
- Gender Non-conforming
- Intersex
- Transgender Man
- Cisgender (non-trans) Man
- Gender Variant
- Non-binary
- Transgender Woman
- Cisgender (non-trans) Woman
- Genderqueer
- Not Listed
Amber considered checking not listed, but Cisgender (non-trans) Woman seemed a safe choice. After that the form asked her to list her sexuality. Here again she ran into an unexpected difficulty.
- Aromantic
- Asexual
- Bisexual
- Demisexual
- Homosexual (male)
- Lesbian
- Pansexual
- Questioning
Amber re-read the list, looking for heterosexual or just straight, but it wasn’t listed. There wasn’t even an option for Other or Not Listed.
She checked the Questioning box as the best option.
Boy, she thought. This N? Pink stuff is really good.
She lifted her head back and dipped the last of the liquid into her mouth.
Amber heard clapping.
“Oh, I just knew you’d love it,” Laci blurted out. “Isn’t it so yummy?”
Amber smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed, and she felt warm, a happy warmth rose from somewhere just above her center, in the pit of her belly, overspreading her body in a glowing and pleasant, or pleasurable, peaceful feeling.
“It is,” she agreed. “It is yummy.”
“Told you,” said the girl two rows behind. Amber turned and smiled.
“You were right,” she chirped, almost giddy. “So yummy.”
V
One by one the names of the waiting girls were called.
Amber absent-mindedly watch each on depart in their turn.
They were all dressed casually in shorts or tight leggings, yoga pants showing off round curves and round hips, making Amber feel just a little self-conscious.
Was it just her own unhealthy sense of her own shortcomings, or were most girls really that must sexier than she was?
Some girls just looked good in anything, she supposed.
Finally, she heard her own name called.
“Amber Marsha Glynn?”
Amber looked up, surprised at the full use of her name, to see an older version of Laci the receptionist smiling in welcome at her, holding the door to the inner offices open.
A happy, blond woman in her mid-forties, she wore a longer version of Laci’s hair, glimmering blond and wavy. She wore bright pink lipstick and smokey glittery eyeshadow on a heavily but fetchingly made up face. The purple scrubs covering her body showed off her prominent bosom and stretched across her round hips. She turned towards the receptionist, showing Amber a round ass, tightly encased by her scrub pants, an upside-down heart shaped moons outlined clearly by the way the scrubs clove into the crack of her ass.
“The last one for the morning, hon?” she asked the receptionist.
“The last one.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
She turned back to Amber.
“You coming? Don’t be shy. We’re all just so super nice here. And we’re all just so excited to have you with us. You’re going to have so much fun, you’ll see.”
Amber wondered just what kind of vitamins she was going to try out, but she kept that question to herself.
As she neared the older woman, Amber read the name on her tag.
Cyndi.
It somehow seemed appropriate.
Cyndi’s ass swayed back and forth in front Amber, and Amber, despite herself, couldn’t help but follow the movement as she trailed behind, falling into a kind of dream walk as her as followed Cyndi’s ass side to side, left to right, and right to left. Systole. Diastole.
A glass wall, slightly tinted, lined the hallway on Amber’s right, but on her left stood white door after white door, closed. Behind the glass, Amber could see the three girls from the waiting room, riding exercise bikes or jogging on treadmills.
I have to exercise?
Amber’s gut sank.
Finally, Cyndi brought the young woman to an open door, and inside Amber saw a tallish, voluptuous woman with dark skin and dark hair wearing a pink lab coat over very elegant, very stylish outfit. A dark blouse and dark skirt with dark hose running up her full thighs.
The woman looked older than Cyndi, and Amber saw gray streaks running through her dark hair. Wrinkled webs spread from her eyes, and her face hung slightly. If she had to guess, Amber would have said the woman was in her 60s, but she had something about her, a bounce, a verve, a certainty levity, that made her seem much, much younger.
“Dr. Essenza? She’s here. Cute as a button, too.”
Amber yelped and jumped backward as Cyndi pinched her side sharply, just above her hips.
“Cyndi, behave,” Dr. Essenza scolded. She turned to Amber and smiled.
“You’ll have to forgive her. I’ve tried. Lord knows I’ve tried to calm that exuberance. But you know how women like Cyndi are. Well, she’s just like that but more so, if you get my meaning.”
Amber was sure that she did not.
She rubbed her side and glared at Cyndi, who shrugged, pursed her pink lips in a kiss, and left the room.
It looked just like the usual doctor’s office, with patient bed, counters filled with medical items, monitors, and panels with weird buttons.
Dr. Essenza had Amber sit on the bed while she took her blood pressure, listened to her heart, and asked routine questions about health.
“What we’ll do is have you exercise for about fifteen or twenty minutes, get that heart of yours beating, take some more measurements, and then start your regimen of vitamins.”
“Um. Okay.”
Just then Cyndi came back carrying a small bundle of pink clothes, setting them down beside Amber.
“These are for you,” she said, winking at the girl. “I just know you’ll look super adorable in them.”
“Cyndi!” Dr. Essenza barked, but the woman was already leaving the office.
“They’re for working out,” Dr. Essenza explained. “Go ahead and put them on.”
“What? Here?”
Amber’s protest came less forceful than she intended. It sounded doubtful, uncertain, and confused. Dr. Carla Essenza noticed the tone immediately.
“Yes, here,” she answered.
Normally, Amber would have flat out refused such a request or even a command. Not that she could quite explain how somebody in Dr. Essenza’ s position could command her to do anything. But still.
I mean, really.
I’d prefer not to.
All the same, she found herself pulling up her shirt, raising it over her head, and laying it on the bed behind her. Next, she stood up, unzipped her skirt from the side and let it drop to the floor. Then she placed the skirt next to the shirt.
Then she looked at Dr. Essenza, crossing her arms over her breasts, thankful she hadn’t been asked—told, rather—to remove that and waited for further instructions.
“Your shoes, Amber,” Dr. Essenza reminded her.
They were just tennis shoes.
“I can exercise in these,” she protested.
“No. Cyndi brought you shoes and socks, too. They’re ever so cute.”
“But. But. How does she know my size?”
Dr. Essenza grinned.
“That’s just Cyndi. She’s absolutely adept at sizing a woman up.”
VI
Cyndi liked clothes one size too small, Amber thought, tugging at the waist and leg holes of her nominal shorts. They were shiny metallic pink, made of Lycra, and they clung to her ass like a second skin. Well, they clung to that part of her ass that they actually covered. She ran her hand over her back. Half of her bottom hung below the tight leg holes, and she wondered how anybody could think these shorts were appropriate for anything.
But Cyndi liked them.
Apparently Dr. Essenza did, too.
The sleeveless crop top they gave her was made of the same material, metallic pink Lycra that pulled across her small boobs. Her nipples were hard, and they poked clearly through the thin fabric. She tried covering her top by folding her arms, but Cyndi wouldn’t have it.
She pulled Ambers unresisting arms down, clapped her hands and shrieked with joy.
“Oh I knew it. I just knew. You look so cute in that outfit. All the girls will—“
“That’s quite enough of that, Cyndi. Thank you for bringing Amber her workout outfit. You can go now.”
But Cyndi didn’t go.
Not until after Amber bent over to tie the laces of her pink cross trainers. The middle of her shorts slipped deep into her thigh gap, outlining the fat cleft of her vagina, and her slender round ass unfolded like a flower in bloom.
“So cute,” Cyndi said. And slipped away before Dr. Essenza could scold her further.
VII
Dr. Essenza herself led Amber to the exercise room, where one other girl remained working out. She was the girl who sat behind Amber in the waiting room. The one who suggested she try N? Pink.
“That’s Gina,” Dr. Essenza said. “And she has about ten minutes left of her workout. Why don’t we work out behind her? You can ride the bike while she finishes up on the treadmill.”
Again, Amber would have preferred not to. Or at least would have preferred to ride a few spaces further away, where plenty of bike stations stood. The workout room was empty, after all, and she hated having her space invaded. She just assumed everybody else did, too. She didn’t want to bother the girl. Gina.
Gina.
That’s a pretty name.
Dr. Essenza attached wires on nodes to Amber’s chest, slipping her hand under the tight crop top to do so. Amber yelped, but the hand knew its business and quickly withdrew. Then the woman left a small bottle of N? Pink on the bike in front of Amber.
“Remember to drink your N? Pink. It really keeps the thirst away. You’ll be surprised how much endurance it gives you, too. Besides,” she said behind her as she walked away. “It’s yummy.”
Gina wore the same outfit as Amber’s, metallic pink booty shorts with a matching metallic pink Lycra crop top. Gina had a larger body than Amber, and her Lycra shorts covered only the top third, if that, of her full, curvaceous bottom. Gina’s waist curved inward before rising to her chest, forming a hourglass figure a model from the 1950s would envy.
Some girls have it all, Amber thought. She saw the bottle of N? Pink, opened the pink plastic cap and tipped the bottle into her mouth, enjoying the pleasant warm feeling sliding down her throat, so redolent of strawberries and something Amber couldn’t quite put her finger on, because she’d never tasted it before.
But she’d like to, whatever it was.
She’d really like to taste it.
So yummy.
Perspiration beaded along Gina’s shoulders and down her back. Amber watched the sweat trickle from the moons of her ass down her strong thighs and calves.
So strong, Amber thought. She must be an athlete.
Amber looked up at the television screens to divert her attention from Gina.
Four large flat screens hung from the ceiling on the opposite wall, and every one of them showed a women’s volleyball game. The athletes wore spandex shorts not much longer than the booty shorts Gina wore, and they fit the women just as tightly.
Gina’s ass swayed from side to side as she jogged on the treadmill, her ass swinging eye level to Amber, glistening sweat beading on her ass cheeks and trickling down her thighs.
Amber swigged from the N? Pink bottle and looked at the girls playing volleyball. Their shorts clung so tightly to their round bottoms, cleaving the two halves of their asses, revealing each lovely contour, and although Amber would have liked to hate the camera for dwelling too long on their legs and butts—creeps—she could not look away.
She realized she loved the female form, the female body. She had always admired a woman’s poise, a woman’s beauty, the way they could command grace one moment and look goofy the next. It seemed natural to want to watch a lovely woman, to want to be near one.
She snapped out of her reverie, shaking her head, and at that moment, Gina who had stopped jogging to slow to a cool down, now stopped altogether and stepped off her treadmill, wiping her body down with a small pink terrycloth towel. She caught Amber’s glance and smiled cheerfully at her.
“Well, that’s done,” she chirped.
Suddenly Cyndi appeared, leering at both Gina and Amber. Amber watched Gina for signs of annoyance, but she saw only a pleasant smile on Gina’s face. Then Amber noticed that she herself felt far from annoyed, and when Cyndi winked at her and said, “You’re up next after Gina,” Amber had to fight the urge to wink back.
Cyndi’s affectionate enthusiasm was infectious.
Besides, she really was pretty, that Cyndi.
So pretty.
VIII
When Dr. Essenza finished another round of blood pressure tests and other readings, she held up a small pink package of pills.
“These are the vitamins,” she said. “Take one a day, preferably in the morning, for the next week. Then when you come back, we’ll run the same tests.”
Amber stood up, took the proffered package, and started to walk out.
“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Essenza added. “Sit back down. I’ll need to give you a little shot. Nothing major. But it’ll condition the vitamins. I’d explain it to you, but it’s awfully technical. Even for me, and I’m a genius.”
Amber hated shots, but she didn’t see any point in trying to understand something she’d never understand, so she just sat down and looked away as Dr. Essenza rolled up the sleeve on her left arm, stroked her skin for a moment, found the place she was looking for, and stabbed her with the syringe.
Amber squeaked, but the sharp pain ended almost before it began.
“What that’ll do is really help the vitamins work their way through your system. You won’t feel anything, of course. Except, and I suppose I should’ve mentioned this before I pricked you, but you might, you might, feel a little, um. Aroused. You know. Sexually. Nothing to worry about.”
Cyndi stepped through the door as Amber walked out.
She stopped and slapped Amber on her ass.
“You done already, cutie pie?”
“Cyndi,” Dr. Essenza said sternly, admonishing her assistant.
Amber turned red, rubbed her butt, and scurried down the hall to the exit.
She should have been upset, she thought. But she wasn’t. It was so hard to be upset with Cyndi. So playful. So cute.
IX
The arousal Dr. Essenza spoke of hit halfway on the ride home. At first she squeezed her thighs together as she drove, but soon the tension, the arousal became unbearable, and Amber, aghast and astonished at her behavior, had to stick her right hand between her legs, holding the steering wheel with her left hand only.
Soon, her fingers dipped into her sodden pussy.
She couldn’t believe how wet she was; she couldn’t believe how warm, how hot the inside of her pussy felt; she couldn’t believe how good it felt just to touch the warm outside of her pussy, to stroke her fat outer lips, rub her shuddering clit, and stick a finger and then a second finger into her sopping cunt as she drove home, hunched over her wheel, jamming her fingers, three of them, into the welcoming hole of her vagina.
And when she finally parked, bringing her car to a halt and throwing the gear into park, she came, screaming into her shoulder.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh my god. Fuck,” she kept repeating until she slowly recovered her breath. Taking her fingers from her spasming cunt, she brought them to her mouth on a sudden whim to taste herself, which is something she rarely did, feeling disgusted afterward. Or feeling that she should be disgusted, which amounted to the same thing for her.
She was still sucking on her fingers when someone with a blond pixie cut walked past the driver’s window.
Sally. Her gay neighbor.
Sally smiled at Amber as if she knew what the girl had been doing, and Amber quickly whipped her fingers from her mouth.
Amber’s eyes followed her neighbor as she walked across the parking lot to the stairwell to their level.
Before her mind could stop her, a vision popped into mind as she looked at her neighbor in her inevitable cut-off denim jeans, cut long, half-way down her thighs, of Sally jogging in front of her, little ass swinging in metallic pink Lycra.
It was long afternoon and night for Amber.
She couldn’t go more than fifteen minutes without needing to touch herself.
By the time an hour had passed her pussy was sore and red, but still she needed to play with herself, to fuck herself. She poured lubricant for her toys over her groin, spread her six-inch cock with lubricant and plunged it between her legs as she sat on the sofa, thighs spread, fucking herself to porn she air dropped onto her TV from her laptop.
She didn’t usually look at porn, but sometimes it helped.
Like this afternoon.
It helped a lot this afternoon.
Images of volleyball players in tight spandex flitted through her mind, visions of Gina’s ass in pink Lycra, shiny and wet.
Annoyed, she concentrated on the porn, straight porn with good solid hunks, muscular and smooth, fucking their women with good, hard strokes of their thick cocks.
Cocks that pounded shaven, wet pussy, hungry slits opening and closing around the cocks.
Gorgeous.
So hot.
But try as she might to resist, to stop herself from doing so, more and more Amber’s eyes drifted to the women in the videos, naked and spreads, bountiful tits bouncing from side to side as they fucked the men on top of them, or under them, or behind them.
Amber’s next orgasm was approaching.
She could feel it welling up from behind the top wall of her cunt, sizzling in her clit, shaking her mind and brain.
The scene changed to a man receiving a blow job from two women, two gorgeous blonds, stacked naturally with wide curvy hips, wearing only heels and chain jewelry, moving their red mouths up and down on the man’s long shaft.
Amber wanted to speed past this scene, but her orgasm was so close, and the vision so intoxicating, two sets of pretty lips, glossy with red lipstick, so close to each other, taking turns on the guy’s dick.
It was just the dick and the two women, their faces close to the camera, the TV screen filled with their wet and gleaming mouths.
She was so close, her cock pumped in and out of her cunt, and Amber thrust her hips forward, fucking her dildo harder and faster to the fast rising climax.
Then the lips reached the top of the cock, the mushroom tip glistening with their spit and his precum, and their tongues touched each other.
Their mouths lifted from the cock tip.
Amber’s climax was so close; her eyes stayed glued to the screen.
Then they kissed, the two mouths collided frantically in a prolonged open kiss, tongue brushing tongue, and lip pressing against lip.
The kissing became strangely tender, passionate. Loving.
Then Amber’s orgasm hit.
She rubbed her clit ferociously with her right hand while pounding her fake cock into her wet and ragged fuck hole with the other hand. The climax washed over her, and she shuddered in the flood, bobbed up and down in the waters of her pleasure, then sank beneath the waves, letting herself go entirely as the cock exploded its semen onto the two women kissing.
“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”
When the next wave of arousal hit her, she didn’t even pretend to watch straight porn. She searched for and quickly found lesbian porn. She stayed away from videos showing women with obviously fake tits, that almost turned her off. She found a huge amount of videos with college age girls in young lithe bodies, and she decided on that.
She didn’t have much experience in lesbian porn, but that was good enough for her.
She didn’t bother questioning herself.
It was just a thing, just a kink.
She was so aroused, so turned on. So horny, and lesbians, lesbian pornography, satisfied that arousal.
She didn’t think about it.
She couldn’t think about.
She found some sites with butch lesbians in strong bodies covered in ink. Dykes with buzz cuts and bodies much like her neighbor Becky. Not quite masculine. But not 36-28-36 either. Something about those videos turned her arousal up even further.
She wanted to stop, but her hand flew over her pussy as she watched biker dykes fuck cheerleaders, and when she started imagining herself in a cheerleader uniform getting fucked from behind by heavy-set tattooed bull dyke wielding a long dark strap-on dildo, she grimaced to herself. But she came nonetheless.
It was a long afternoon and evening for Amber.
But finally the last wave of arousal came and went, leaving her pussy ragged and hanging open, well-worn by her hands, vibrators, and dildo. She’d seen so much lesbian porn by that time. She’d watched so many women making love, having sex, making out, kissing and caressing, straight out fucking each other with astonishing brutality.
And she came watching every video.
But now it was over.
She waited, sprawled naked on her couch, waiting for the next wave to hit, but the next wave never reached her shore.
She could finally go to bed, her mind too tired to be troubled by what she fucked herself to.
X
The next morning she woke up sore, hurt.
She avoided direct contact with her groin, and she stayed in her bath tub for hours, filling up with hot water every time the bath ran tepid. She did remember to take her vitamin.
She pulled baggy sweat clothes over her body.
She didn’t bother with panties.
She didn’t want another thing touching her cleft.
Then, sometime after her bath, the soreness in her pussy went away.
She wondered if it might be the vitamin.
She walked around her apartment on tiptoes, waiting for a renewed assault of the arousal, but nothing happened.
She remembered all the dyke porn she watched, but the memory seemed hazy and confused. Distant. Like a glimpse into somebody else’s mind.
Worried about it, she flipped open her laptop, looked at a few lesbian videos, but nothing happened.
It just.
Well. It just.
It didn’t disgust her.
Why would it?
Women were wonderful. Naturally some women would want to have sex with another woman. It just made sense.
Not her thing, but still.
She closed the laptop, relieved to find out she wasn’t really a lesbian.
I’m not queer. That’s good. I guess.
The week passed, and Amber went on with her life. Nothing changed except the routine of taking a vitamin every morning.
Towards the end of the week she noticed she felt better.
More aware.
More excited.
More excitable.
More.
Something.
On Thursday, she met Becky outside her apartment talking to Sally. Amber never spoke to them before, so they didn’t say anything as she walked by.
“Hi Becky, hey Sally,” she said, unconsciously sticking her chest out a little and putting a slight swing to her bottom. “It’s a beautiful day, don’t you think?”
Becky’s eyes trailed after their cute neighbor, and Sally looked like she was going to reply, but Amber had already disappeared down the stairwell.
“She speaks,” Becky said.
Sally shrugged.
Then Saturday came, and Amber left her apartment for another round of exercising and monitoring.
She wondered how many more vitamins she’d have to take.
XI
Dr. Essenza jabbed her in the arm before she had a chance to even protest.
“Get changed and join the others, sweetie. Today’s going to be special.”
Amber remembered what happened last time they gave her the shot, and she gulped, knowing she couldn’t possibly get through another a whole session of exercising without fucking herself against the seat of the bike.
At that moment, Cyndi popped in, holding an opened bottle of N? Pink.
“I thought you’d like some of this, girl. I know much you love drinking it. Oh god, don’t you just look edible.”
Last week Amber would have grimaced inwardly if not actually frown at the sexy, middle-aged assistant, so blond and bubbly and cute. Today something had changed. And not just about her. The whole room, the whole building on entering it, felt charged with a tension, a noticeable sexual tension that would have put Amber on guard.
Had she felt such a thing last week, she would have fled immediately, but now she dismissed any sense of danger as untoward. Irrational.
Besides.
She kind of liked it.
It just felt.
You know.
Sexy.
Naughty.
Fun.
I mean, if things didn’t get too far.
And Amber would make sure things didn’t go too far.
When Cyndi bent down to help tug down Amber’s sweatpants, she wondered if things were going to get too far, and when Cyndi held up Amber’s feet, one after the other, to help her tug up her pink metallic booty shorts (so sexy, Amber thought) up her short and slender legs, making sure to brush her skin with her fingertips and knuckles, Amber realized she stood no chance of ensuring anything.
They’d do whatever they wanted, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. The shot surged through her system, flooding her body with desire and sexual arousal, need, lust. It worked so much faster than last time, and last time took only a dozen minutes or so.
It hadn’t even been five minutes.
Amber rolled her hips and pressed her thighs together.
Even Dr. Essenza was touched by the sexual electricity in the air.
Last week she had seemed so restrained, so professional.
But now her tits swayed under a sheer blouse, free and without the support of a bra, massive, full, her brown nipples poked through the thin fabric of her sheer brown top, and when Dr. Essenza started unbuttoning her shirt, Amber stared, mouth open, knowing her own pussy was flooding.
Her cunt tingled so much. So much.
“My god, Carla, she’s so wet already. I can’t wait, Dr. Essenza. I’m sorry, but I can’t wait.”
Dr. Carla Essenza sighed and rolled her eyes, grinning at Amber and winking knowingly at the girl.
“You’re incorrigible. That’s what you are. I said it before, and I’ll say it again.”
The scientist took a couple of steps towards Amber, holding her right hand out and feeling the girl between her very wet, very hot, and very engorged cunt lips.
“I’d better see for myself.”
Despite herself, despite her mind screaming at her to get the fuck out of there, Amber’s legs parted for Dr. Essenza’ s fingers.
Amber shuddered when she felt the doctor’s fingers enter her steamy pussy, and she pitched her pelvis forward, fucking the fingers in her turn.
It felt so good, so good.
And she was so horny, so turned on, so feverishly aroused.
Cyndi moved behind her and cradled her small boobs in both hands, sliding her palms beneath her shirt, and Amber groaned, bit her lip, and shook her head.
“Please,” she begged.
“Do you want us to stop,” Cyndi whispered in Amber’s ear. Her lips brushed her lobes, and a new tremor swept through Amber’s small body.
She continued to shake her head.
“No,” she whispered at last. “Please. Please make me cum.”
At that precise moment, Dr. Essenza’ s fingers escaped from Amber’s hot little snatch, and she whined.
“She’s ready,” Carla Essenza said. “Take her to the exercise room.”
“But Dr. Essenza,” Cyndi protested.
“No buts, Cyndi. You can wait a little longer.”
The pout spreading across Cyndi’s indicated she didn’t think she could.
XII
Amber openly leered at the backside of Gina, dressed in the same metallic pink booty shorts and crop top, as the athletic girl jogged on the treadmill in front of her. From time to time Cyndi lifted a bottle of N? Pink to Amber’s mouth, who drank without a second thought as she rode her exercise bike.
For some reason, and Amber saw no reason to complain, no one on the volleyball teams displayed on the giant screens above them wore clothes. Then again, none of them were playing volleyball either, so that kind of made sense.
Laci, the receptionist from a week ago, stood beside Gina, making notes on her pad, and checking the numbers on the monitor.
Laci wore a very short lab coat, pink and see-thru, under which her nude body showed clearly.
Gina’s ass swayed from side to side.
The women on the giant screens surrounding the exercise room writhed on a padded floor, covered in oil, engaged in a mass fuck fest, mouths moved over shaven slits, hands crawled over gleaming mounds, asses were thrust upwards from kneeling positions, and hips were fucking each other. Dildos were slung around waists and pushed deep inside any available hole, and groans, moans, cries, and sudden shrieks of climax reverberated in the enclosed space along with the wet, plopping sounds of fucking, sucking, and kissing.
Sweat trickled then poured down Gina’s back, perspiration ran down her thighs and calves. Her body glowed, and Amber licked her lips, wanting to lick every drop of salty sweat from the lovely woman’s lovely body.
Then Laci stopped Gina and pulled her pink shorts down, slowly revealing her magnificent posterior to the watchful Amber.
Cyndi’s hand was inside Amber’s top, massaging her tit.
Cyndi’ hand was inside Amber’s shorts, massaging her pussy.
“Keep riding,” she teased. “It’s important.”
Amber pumped her legs and pushed her feet on the pedals of her bike, but she wanted to stop, to lean into Cyndi and let the woman just have her way with her. Just absolutely have her way with her.
Cyndi’s fingers dipped deep into her wet hole, so hot and squirmy, and when she pulled them out to hold against Amber’s mouth, she opened her lips and sucked her juices from Cyndi’s fingers, so soft and tender.
“That’s it. Taste yourself. Taste your pussy. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? I can spend hours just lying in bed, fingering myself stupid, tasting myself all afternoon.”
Laci must have heard her, because she turned away from Gina and winked at Amber.
“She’s not lying. I’ve seen her do it. I don’t blame her. She tastes delicious.”
Cyndi rolled her eyes.
“Of course, that’s what any daughter, any good daughter, would say.”
Amber moaned on Cyndi’s fingers, sucking them intently, a newborn nursing on her mother’s teats.
Gina had stopped jogging; having slowed her walk for a cool down, Laci made her stop altogether, step off the treadmill, and stretch. She had Gina touch her toes, and Amber exhaled loudly, groaning at Gina’s fat pussy displayed lewdly below the crack of her ass, as she bent to touch her toes.
Laci counted to sixty.
Gina’s fat cunt was dripping.
“I bet you can’t wait to run your tongue between those luscious lips of hers, can you? It feels good to be turned on by women, doesn’t it? It feels so good to know you can only be aroused by women, doesn’t it? There’s a word for that, isn’t there? A word for what you are.”
Amber’s eyes focused on the Gina’s drooping cleft, dark and deep.
“I’ll let you think about it,” Cyndi said. “I’ll let you think about the word for the kind of woman you are.”
Cyndi pulled her fingers from Amber’s mouth and slipped them downwards, returning to the boiling pit of Amber’s churning cunt.
“For the kind of woman who loves and needs the taste of pussy in her mouth.”
XIII
Lesbian.
When Amber’s tongue traveled over the hot slippery cleavage of Gina’s tangy lip, tasting the tart nectar of the other woman’s pussy, her vagina, her glorious and wonderful vulva, she knew that was the word for her.
Lesbian.
She was a lesbian.
There really couldn’t be any doubt about it.
The pussy on her tongue burned into her mind, the taste of it etched itself deep within her consciousness.
Gina lay on her back, her legs spread and bent, her feet flat on the floor on either side of Amber’s small body, letting the girl devour her dripping cunt.
Amber’s eyes were closed, but she didn’t need to see Laci straddling Gina’s face to know that her lover was busy engaged in pussy-licking of her own.
Was Gina like her, she wondered? Did Gina used to be straight like her?
Amber wondered about Cyndi.
Was Cyndi always a lesbian?
What about Laci, fucking her cunt against Gina’s mouth?
Did she used to have a boyfriend?
Did she used to date guys, hook up with boys, fuck men?
Did she used to like having a man’s cock thrusting and spewing inside her?
Did Amber?
Had Amber ever really been straight?
It was so hard to remember, so hard to remember ever liking or wanting to have sex with a man.
She supposed she must have, at one time.
She did remember thinking she did.
She did remember thinking she hated dykes, hated the very idea of lesbianism—or how she thought she used to like a man’s hard cock inside her. It was so hard to figure all that out.
Cyndi must have finally sorted her rig out, Amber thought, because she felt the woman grab her hips and lift her ass off the ground, nudging her thighs apart as she held onto Amber’s waist. Amber, good girl that she was, didn’t move her mouth away from Gina’s pussy.
Cyndi had taught her so much about eating pussy in such a short amount of time. How to lick around the edges, how to slip your tongue through the creamy insides, how to nibble the clitoral hood and tickle it with the tip of your tongue. How to suck the pussy into her mouth, how to finger the girl while you flick your tongue over her mound, how to part the lips with your fingers, sliding your tongue oh so wonderfully between the soft flesh-petals. How to make a girl moan. How to make a girl scream.
“They don’t always cum right away,” Cyndi had cautioned her, “and that’s okay, it really is sweetie. It’s okay to take your time, it tastes so good anyway, and just having a woman squirm under mouth is so, so. So good. But sometimes they cum just like that,” and here Cyndi ended her sentence with a flourish of her hand and a snap of her fingers.
Amber sighed into Gina’s pussy, feeling the end of Cyndi’s cock nuzzling her hungry hole.
Girl cocks were different, Amber knew. Somehow she knew that it was different. She remembered, a long time ago when she used to think she was straight, how she used to laugh about girls fucking each other with dildos. I mean, why not the real thing? If you’re that desperate, why not just fuck a guy?
But it was different, she understood now, feeling Cyndi’s cock sink deeper inside her, shifting her ass as Cyndi steered her hips into her cock. A girl’s cock was shared. A girl’s cock was something special shared between two lovers. Or more. A man’s cock thrust inside, greedy for its own wants, but a girl cock was meant to give pleasure, and the woman who used it loved it for that reason.
Somehow Amber knew all this as Cyndi grabbed her and fucked her with the long purple strap-on she’d seen her put on. The cock sank slow and deep inside her, slow and deep, and Amber sighed into Gina’s flowing cunt, so wet and delicious.
The knob of Gina’s clit hardened in its hood, and Amber teased it with her tongue-tip. The she slid her tongue all over Gina’s vulva, up and down, collecting as much secretion into her mouth as she could, swallowing Gina’s copious juices, her copious sweet juices, so good, so hot, the juices of her hot lesbian pussy.
It felt so good to be a lesbian, she thought, to finally get that out of her way.
Cyndi began moaning behind and above her, and Amber smiled into Gina’s wet hole, boiling and shuddering as Gina pitched and rolled her mound into Amber, murmuring her pleasure into Laci’s sweet vulva, Laci’s sweet cleft.
She likes fucking me, Amber smiled to herself. Cyndi likes fucking my pretty ass. I’m a hot little lezzie slut, and she loves fucking me. She can’t get enough of me. She wanted me the moment she laid eyes on me.
Amber swelled with pride, and shoved her backside against Cyndi’s pummeling groin.
So deep.
So good.
Her cock in my cunt is so good.
I can’t wait to fuck her when it’s my turn.
But the older woman showed no signs of letting it be her turn soon. Her strong hands clutched the soft skin of Amber’s hips, and she ground her cock hard and deep into Amber’s slippery slit, the skin and lips closing around the shaft as Amber’s pussy swallowed the cock, girth and length.
So good.
The sound of Cyndi pummeling her from behind, those wonderful wet plopping sounds, that fap-fap-fap sound of skin bumping skin, drove Amber crazy; it did something to her mind. It solidified it. It solidified the undeniable fact that she was licking a pussy, loving it, and getting fucked from behind by another woman, a woman whose daughter was riding the face of the woman she, Amber, was now licking to an apparent orgasm.
It solidified the incontrovertible fact that she loved it, that she needed it, that she would not long go without it. That she would seek it out, that she would find it, and that she would make it a part, an everlasting part, of her new life as a.
Dyke.
Then Gina twisted her hips, squeezed her thighs against the sides of Amber’s face, yanked her hair and smashed her face against her spasming cunt. Amber heard Gina squeal. Then she heard her shriek, and then she heard her scream.
“Fuck me I’m cumming fuck me I’m cumming. Fuck me. I’m cumming. I’m cumming in your mouth.”
She felt someone yank her head off Gina’s pussy.
She barely had time to register the twisted face of Laci, who was smashing her ass against Gina.
Laci’s mouth covered Amber’s pussy-glazed lips, and her tongue snaked deep into her mouth. Amber wasted no time kissing her back, and both girls were soon greedily French-kissing while Laci fucked her cunt against Gina. Then Cyndi’s thumb slipped into Amber’s asshole, and Amber’s mind exploded as the orgasm erupted deep inside the center of her body.
Cyndi was fucking her good.
XIV
When Amber finally returned home to her apartment she was a changed woman, and the next day found her knocking on the door of Becky’s apartment.
Becky opened the door, a little confused to see her usually dismissive, if not outright derisive, neighbor.
“Um,” Amber stammered. “I was wondering. Um. I know I’ve been kind of rude to you. And I was wondering if um. I was wondering, I mean, I hope I can come in and apologize.”
God Becky was so hot, Amber thought. She could do whatever she wanted with me and I wouldn’t turn her down.
Becky stared at the creature in her doorway, dressed in the skimpiest pink shorts she’d ever seen and a top that hid nothing. Certainly not the hard nibs of her small tits sticking through the thin Lycra.
“I would do anything to make up for my rudeness.”
“I’m a bit rough,” Becky warned.
“I don’t mind. I deserve it.”
Becky opened the door and let the girl in.
If the girl needed to get it off her chest, who was she to tell her no?
The small girl with long dark hair, her body squirming and swaying with need and desire, entered the apartment, and Becky’s door closed behind her.