The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“No…” The phone dangled uselessly from my limp hand. I felt as though a bucket of ice water was being poured through a newly-discovered hole in my back, filling me with paralyzing shards of numbness.

“We can’t break up,” I whispered. Tears were already welling in the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away furiously. “I won’t let you. Okay? I WON’T LET YOU!” I ended in a shout, my voice echoing into the suddenly alien living room. “I… can’t…”

I must have held the phone to my ear another minute before I finally realized he’d hung up long before I started to speak. With a wordless scream of rage and pain, I threw the phone into a corner and collapsed on the couch, my body wracked with sobs.

I raised my head wearily the third time the doorbell rang. Philip. It has to be Philip. Who else would keep ringing? Do I want it to be him, or do I dread it?

I pulled myself from the couch and crept to the door, now wanting to kill him, now wanting to hide under the bed until he went away. Teetering between extremes, I looked through the peephole, more to stall for time than out of any curiosity.

A stranger, heavy-looking book bag slung over one shoulder. Long blonde hair, a little dark, or maybe wet, although it wasn’t raining. Sun-tanned, blue eyes, around five-eight. And skinny. I mean she had muscle tone, but more like a tomboy than an athlete. She looked like a non-anorexic, non-bulimic, not-a-stick-figure I’m-a-real-girl-and-thank-god-for-a-fast-metabolism girl. She could have posed on the cover of any fashion mag I had. I don’t know her. If I knew her, I think I’d have to hate her.

I don’t know why I opened the door; curiosity, maybe, or just the fact the she wasn’t him. “What do you want?” I asked, a little rudely.

“Hey, Aimee,” she greeted me breezily. “It’s Melissa.” I looked blank. “Your best friend in the whole wide world, your closest confidant? Got your message about Phil, so I rushed on over as a friend.”

As a friend… My mouth was opening as she finished, and I shut it, puzzled. An odd feeling swept over me. “I… Phil? I…” And then it hit me, all at once. Melissa! I was so upset and groggy, I hadn’t even recognized my best friend. We’d been inseparable since… god, how long had it been? Ages, anyway, so long I couldn’t even remember when we’d met. I flashed her a weak smile. “Sorry, Melissa. I guess I’m pretty out of it. Come on in.”

“Love to.”

We sat next to each other on the couch, and looked at each other. An awkward moment of silence followed, as I realized I had no idea where I wanted to begin. I didn’t even remember calling her; some instinctual part of me much have reached out to her after Phil’s earth-shattering call. And she had come, like any good friend would.

“So, what happened?”

I burst into tears.

It took maybe an hour to get everything out, although it seemed like a lot longer. Melissa’s shoulder was literally damp from where I’d cried on it, her arms holding me to her as I blubbered my way through the story to its sudden, pointless ending. “He said we just weren’t working out,” I said, and hiccupped. “That I’d probably be happier with someone else, like he was. He said I was too much of a ‘good girl’. What does that even mean?”

“Shh… it’s all right, baby, it’ll be all right.” Her smoky alto cut through my sobs comfortingly.

“I know, I know,” I said miserably. I sat up slowly, some unwilling to leave the warm comfort of Melissa’s arms. “God, I’m so tired. I just want to sleep for, like, a million years.”

Mel (she liked to be called ‘Mel’ – I’d forgotten about that, too, until she reminded me) smiled sympathetically and continued stroking my hair. I felt like I was about five years old, only I’d advanced way beyond skinned knees and scary TV shows. “Stay up a while longer, baby, ride it out.”

I nodded, not really wanting to make any decisions in my state. “Ok. Thanks.”

“No problem. Cigarette?” Melissa offered, drawing two out of her bookbag.

I shook my head. “I don’t smoke.”

Melissa gave me one anyway. “You do tonight. Speaking as a friend, you could really use one.”

That odd feeling again, like a wind had blown over my naked soul for a moment. I took it reluctantly, coughing when Mel lit the tip for me. “Thanks… how’ve you been?”

She shrugged. “Oh, you know, been here and there. I’ve been living out of my car for a while, since I took my ‘sabbatical’.” Her delicate hands framed invisible apostrophes in the air. It was funny to see her do something like that, but my gaze seemed drawn to the cigarette between her lips, dangling there like a… like…

“Something wrong?”

I looked away, embarrassed. I’d been staring at her lips! I preferred reds and oranges in my lipstick, but Mel had gone ‘girly-girl’ on me, with a shiny pink lip gloss that would have looked silly on anyone less… less… “Uh, no. I was just… spacing, I guess.” I coughed again, trying to inhale the unfamiliar smoke. “You sure this is just tobacco?”

Mel smiled at my lame joke. “Positive. You’re just not used to it, that’s all. Here, like this. Take half a breath of fresh air first, then draw it. Makes it diluted, and a little less hot. Watch.” I watched as she demonstrated, then tried to emulate her. I still coughed, but not as much, and my eyes seemed to have trouble leaving her lips.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Guess I’m just not much good at this.”

“It takes some practice,” she admitted. Suddenly she brightened, and gave me a sidelong look. “Wanna see another way to do it? As a friend, you’ll like it.”

Woosh… “Uh… sure,” I said, curious. “Fire away.”

I watched as Melissa took another deep drag, cheeks sucking in, eyes widening comically. I almost chuckled despite myself at her clowning, when she leaned over and kissed me full on the lips.

I sat paralyzed for a moment, not knowing what to do, before realizing she was cooling/filtering the draught for me. I parted my lips, taking in her gentle exhalation as my breath. It was warm, sweet, comforting, not at all like I thought it would be, although I’d be hard-pressed even now to tell you what I thought it would be like.

Mel sat back and exhaled slowly, and I mirrored her. A smooth, languid feeling was rolling over me, calming me even as I began to wake from my misery-induced fog.

“So… what do you think?”

“That was… um. Nice.” It was better than ‘nice’ but I didn’t know how to say it without sounding… you know. “Let me get us something to drink. What do you want?” I asked. I was sure I was flushing beet-red, and I needed any excuse to get up for a moment.

“A beer?” she called to my retreating back. “Or red wine, if you have it.”

I didn’t have any beer – that was Phil’s thing, may he rot in hell – but I did have a bottle of Merlot someone had given me. I uncorked it with unsteady hands and poured it into two glasses. I stared at them a moment, trying to decide whether or not to bring the bottle back. In for a penny… I gathered them in my arms and brought them back to the living room, along with a chipped bowl to use for an ashtray.

Melissa was still smoking, but she at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Thanks,” she told me, taking her glass and sipping at it.

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two. I’m no great drinker, but the wine was good; a little fruity, and it got smoother by the time I poured a second glass for each of us. Melissa broke the ice. “Uh… sorry. Got carried away there, Aimee. I didn’t mean to shock your good-girl sentiments.”

I waved it aside, a little anxious to put it behind us. “Don’t worry about it.” The cigarette had done me some good, and the wine was going down nicely. I took a gulp when something she’d said occurred to me. “What do you mean, ‘good-girl sentiments’?”

“Well… you know,” she shrugged again. “Kind of mocking Phil, but you kind of are, too.”

I started to get mad, then calmed down, all in a few seconds. “Well, maybe,” I pouted. “What is it about guys and bad girls, anyway? Is it so bad to be nice?”

“Same thing as girls and bad boys, I assume.” Mel sipped reflectively, and nodded as I refilled our glasses. “You want a little of both. Someone who can be good, but when they’re bad…” Mel shivered in mock-lust. “…They’re really bad, y’know?”

I nodded. “Sure, I guess. You would know.” I sipped while Mel chuckled obligingly. “I’m not a ‘good girl’, though. Phil was being an asshole.”

Mel’s eyes widened. “Sure you are. Goody too-shoes.”

I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me, but it hit a little too close to home. If we weren’t such good friends I’d have gotten mad. As it was, I just got flustered. “That’s just ‘cause nobody knows better. When I get in the mood, I’m the baddest babe around!”

“Really?” Mel crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

My bluster almost died right there. “Sure. Um… how, oh wicked woman?”

“Let’s see… what’s something I’d do, that no good girl would dream of doing…” Mel tapped her chin with the wineglass, thinking. “Got it. And you so won’t do this,” she dared.

“Try me.”

“A lapdance,” she said, blue eyes sparkling wickedly. “An erotic, cock-teasing, no-holds barred lapdance. Something that’ll make a boy cream himself lusting after your hot bod.”

I almost choked on a mouthful of wine. “A lapdance?” I squeaked.

“It’s ok, just think of it as foreplay, except for me, instead of some hypothetical boyfriend. Why not? Just do it as a friend.”

“Th… that’s…” Crazy? Not like me? Dumb? While my mouth struggled for words, my brain actually thought about it. And you know, Mel was right. A lap dance is foreplay, pure and simple. If you do it for money, then you’re a stripper. For someone you love, though… the question wasn’t why should I, but why hadn’t I ever? What a great way to spice up the evening! I’d never even thought about it, but it made a lot of sense. And why not now? Better to get an honest critique from my best friend, than to try it out cold for someone I’m dating and fall flat on my face. “That’s a bet, Mel.”

She returned my grin as I stood and gave an exaggerated stretch. “I don’t know if I can dance, though…” I told her, coyly. I strode over to the CD rack, looking for something suitable to play.

“Really,” Mel said, playing along. “Only I thought I heard from someone you were some kind of dancer. Clogs, maybe.”

“Clog-dancing, exactly right,” I said, sliding a CD into the player. She knew damn well I still kept up with ballet, and took classes in modern dance besides. “Let me show you what I’ve learned there.”

I stepped away from the entertainment center, swaying gently as the intro began. Bum bum, bum bum bum, bum bump, bum bum, bum bum… I kept my back to Melissa as I built up into it, part stage-fright, part mystery. I hadn’t done any stretching, any warm-ups at all, and it was totally off-the-cuff, but what the hell, right? It was supposed to be spontaneous, evocative, from the depths of my creative soul, and it was there that I put my blind, drunken trust.

Drums. High hat chased the snare, and I began dancing, a standing writhe, not at all like how I knew to dance. Sensuality, that was the key. I let the curve start at the ankles, winding its way up through my hips and out from my shoulders, arms trailing behind as I turned to my audience of one.

“Whoa! Is it hot in here, or is it just you?” An old chestnut, but Melissa grinned encouragingly, and I seized on the answering pang of warmth, using it to fuel my movements. I may not have warmed up, but the wine and good company was holding me in good stead. I was limber, lithe, confident, every intention translating itself into a gesture, thoughts made expression.

Erotic, she’d said. I’d started out well, but it was time to heat it up. I kicked my shoes away dramatically, grateful I’d been wearing slip-ons. Barefooted, I brought both hands to my beltline, unbuttoning and unzipping them to coincide the last inch with a crash of cymbals at the end of the measure.

You want hot? I turned just as Mel’s face began to make an ‘O’ of surprise, pulling my pants down in one smooth, graceful motion, stiff-legged, ass curving out. Hey, try it sometime and see how easy it isn’t. One hand snaked back and slapped my ass, bringing me upright even as I gave a feigned look of shock over one shoulder as I rose to a stand. I spun, letting my pants fly away and took in Mel’s surprised face.

I’ll give you hot. Mel had leaned back, wineglass forgotten in her hand as she stared open-mouthed, a slight smile curling the corners of her mouth. I was totally in my element now, the music hitting its stride at the same time as I had, and now I launched into a choreography all of my own making: jazz tap, ballet, and night-club dance floor, mixed with elements of Fosse and swing.

Looking back, I’m grateful my place has as much room as it does; even so, I was lucky not to knock anything over. Dancing in nothing but a button-down blouse and a pair of panties, I did it all: on point with one leg raised to the sky, feather steps segueing into a slow pirouette, syncopated sway, even a fouetté en tournant. I’d only been at it a few minutes, but already I was beginning to perspire.

You want a bad girl? I crooned to my invisible lover, pouting at Melissa standing in as proxy. I leaned over, unbuttoning my blouse wantonly, relishing the momentary break in activity it gave me. I locked my eyes to hers, keeping her attention focused entirely on my body – exactly where I wanted it. My blood sang in my veins, drunkenly coursing with the exhibitionist thrill of the performer.

I’m as bad as they come. I twirled the blouse over my head a few times before tossing it over Melissa’s head – another gambit. By the time she’d pulled it away, I was pulling myself astride her, straddling her legs as though mounting a lover. Locking my thighs around hers, I leaned back, unhooking my bra with a flourish, letting it fall at Melissa’s feet.

“Oh my God…” I heard Melissa whisper, but I hardly cared. I was Isis, Aphrodite, inciting desire made heated flesh. I drew myself up, uncoiling like a snake, planting each hand deliberately on Melissa’s shoulders. Lean forward, draw back, head down, then whipping up, smoldering eyes fierce, daring her to want me. I sat up, swaying, hands sliding up my sides, cupping my breasts, running up along my neck to clasp fingers. I rolled sinuously in her lap, breasts swaying with the song, my pubic mound pressing urgently against hers as the music began to swell, my body becoming her entire world…

And I kissed her. Hand drawing her face to mind, I kissed her, tongue plunging to find hers, wrapping itself around hers, all passion and eagerness and sexual need. Her hands fondled my breast, giving them a friendly caress before encircling me, pulling me in as my weight bore down on her, kissing…

I don’t know how long it lasted. Seconds, minutes, hours, who cares? Eventually we broke, drawing apart just far enough to see one another again. Our eyes met, flame matching flame. The moment stretched out towards eternity. Melissa, hands clasped around the small of my back, eyes shining with excitement, elfin face inches from mine; me, breathless, sweaty, exhilarated, alive…

“Aimee,” she mouthed.

I felt suddenly conscious of my position, the awful intimacy of it. If someone saw us like this… I stiffened and slid off of Mel’s lap, acutely aware of how close we’d… I’d come to… “Oh… I’m so sorry, Mel. I sort of… I just…” I wanted to melt.

“Shh,” Melissa quelled me. “Don’t apologize, baby.” She held my gaze for a few seconds, wordlessly telling me everything was all right. She gave me a small, shy smile and held out a pack. “Cigarette?”

“Sure.” I accepted one gratefully and sat down next to her on the couch, not trusting myself to light it. I inhaled the smoke deeply, glad of the distraction. An hour ago you got dumped, were crying yourself to sleep. And now…

Mel exhaled noisily. “After something like that, I could use one.” She took another drag, not yet looking at me.

“Yeah.”

She put her hand on my bare knee, cool against my warm flesh, and I turned to face her. “Aimee?” I nodded, uncertainly.

“That was. Without a doubt. The single hottest thing I’ve seen in… well, I don’t even know how long.” She sucked on her cigarette, looking for words. “You are one sexy bitch, you know that? Drop-dead gorgeous, and with moves like that…”

I looked down, not knowing what to think. “You… you liked it? It wasn’t… you know, stupid, or anything?”

“Stupid?” Melissa’s blue eyes shone, deadly serious. Baby, you could seduce a nun.” She crushed her cigarette out in our makeshift ashtray, hand still on my leg. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, Aimee?”

I shook my head, mutely, no.

Melissa stood, turning to face me. “Let me show you, then.” She sank to her knees, eyes never leaving mine. “Just enjoy this, Aimee. Just do what I say and enjoy what I do… as a friend.”

Just enjoy… Melissa’s head moved between my bare thighs as she parted them gently with her hands. I licked my lips, could taste her lip gloss on my tongue, a tangible reminder of that electric kiss. Our first kiss. My first kiss with another girl. Melissa, my best friend. We’d shared everything but this. Never even wondered, what if…

Just enjoy… I was hurt, vulnerable, needy, and Melissa had come to me. Her fingertips stroked me, inflamed me, feeding the heat that had sprung into being the moment I’d begun to dance. A dance for me, a dance for her… Who had I really been trying to seduce? I sighed as she pressed into me, relaxed into the couch, sensuous, anticipating…

Just enjoy… I felt Melissa’s hot breath through the fabric of my panties, her face drawing towards my cleft. She’d held me as I cried, comforted me, made me laugh, made me realize…No. I don’t… do I? Am I…?

Just enjoy… My panties were pulled aside, the last vestige of modesty removed, and Mel’s tongue ran down the length of my pussy, broad and firm. I tensed at the unfamiliarity, the other-ness, rigid until she licked again. We began a routine of sorts: tension, then release, as her tongue skillfully lapped its way up or down. Wait, tension building, then release…

Enjoy… I was getting wet now, my juices flowing in response to sexual need, mixing with Melissa’s saliva. Her long strokes gradually became a gentle lapping, soft but insistent. I felt like a budding flower, a bee suckling at my nectar, fulfilling us both. Her hands pulled my legs further apart, and I spread my knees wide, inviting her in, sexual and wanton and beautiful…

“Yes,” I whispered, as much to myself as to her. My hands ran under her blouse, found her lightly-tanned back, caressed it, pulling her to me. “Yes… Oh, Mel… I need you…”

It was the strangest thing. A small, distant part of my mind watched, a neutral observer, while the rest of me gave in completely to Melissa’s ministrations. Little good-girl Aimee, who’d only ever dated five men and gone ‘all the way’ with two of them, now lolling on a couch while her best friend licked her pussy. Prudish Aimee, who had been too scared to try any position other than missionary, who’d never let anyone go down on her in her life. Uptight Aimee, who only made love in the dark and avoided being nude around her boyfriend of six months. Melissa knelt before my boneless body, eating me out as I shook and moaned my way towards orgasm. I was bi, and the knowledge was as comfortable as an old pair of jeans. I was bi, and I loved it.

“Lick me… lick my… cunt…” I’d never spoken this way before, never acted like this with anyone, not even in my most private erotic fantasies. I began to move some, hips twitching this way and that, guiding her to the right places. And sometimes the almost-right places, prolonging this magical moment, this blissful time… She kept licking, relentlessly probing my recesses, her strong tongue bringing me towards a climax I knew would be more powerful than any I’d ever experienced at my own hand, or even with Phil. Unbidden, a vision rose in my mind: Phil’s powerful thrusts, taking me from behind as I’d never let him, while Melissa’s lips teased my clit from underneath, the three of us surging towards a shared climax. My dream-self bent down, lowering my own mouth to her exposed pussy, giving her what she was giving me…

“Do it,” I implored her, voice growing urgent with need, but still as soft as her touch. “Make me… make me come...” I was pushing myself towards her now, hands twining in her blonde hair. Her lips, her tongue, her whole mouth was making love to me, and my need ached for her attention, her touch, the most intimate of kisses…

“Ahh… ahhh…” My thighs began to clamp down, and Melissa was already pushing them apart, exposing me exactly the way I needed to be. “Ahh… M-mmmmeeelllll… I’m… oh, god…” I stopped at the brink, some last reticent part of me holding me back. “I’m… so… close…”

I looked down, opening my eyes. Melissa’s hot-pink nails contrasted with my pale skin, pressing into my thighs. Moment to moment I glimpsed her at work: a flash of red tongue, of smacking lips, of ice-blue eyes intent on her singular mission. I’m going to come. Melissa… Melissa is making me… making me…come…

A tide swelled, like pressure building in a lidded pot, and for a moment I thought my eyes and ears would pop. Then it crashed over me, my entire being compressing, then expanding out from my burning cunt, “Ahhhh… Ahhhhhh… AAARRRRRRHHHH! AHH, AHH, AHHHHHHH!” I screamed, the climax tearing loose into the world, not caring who knew. It was imperative, unstoppable, and I came and came and came…

Eventually my senses returned, not without some reluctance on my part. Jesus… I’d had better orgasms… but not many, and I couldn’t recall ever having an all-over one that good. I was still trembling when I opened my eyes, shaking with happiness and confusion and fear and… lust? My God… Am I still aroused?

Melissa was holding me, cuddled firmly but not constricting, my head on her shoulder. She’d stripped out of her clothing, at some point, oddly making me feel overdressed. “Hey, baby,” she told me.

“M-Mel? I… that was…”

She brushed my bangs from my face with the back of her hand. “I heard! Have you ever done anything like that before?”

Oral? With a girl? “No.” I snuggled in, trying to dispel the post-orgasmic awkwardness I usually felt. “No, nothing like that. I think I’m a little weirded out.”

She chuckled. “Don’t be. It’s me, you know? It’s not like some stranger just walked in off the street and jumped your bones.”

I had to laugh, relaxed. “True.” I felt protected, warm, comfortable… and just a little bit randy. “So you liked it?”

“Which part? The lap dance, or the part where I gave you head?” Her free hand was caressing my thigh now, tender and soft. I wriggled closer.

“Uh. The dance.” Her frankness should have made me self-conscious; instead it was disarming. “Mostly.”

“The lap dance. Well, I haven’t had many before,” she said, and I stifled a giggle, “But I’d have to say it’s got to be one of the best in the history of the sport. I, uh, didn’t think you’d strip during it, though.”

I could feel my face getting hot, partly out of embarrassment, and partly because her fingers had unerringly found my slit. Her strokes were long, lovely, a soothing balm to my most sensitive flesh. “Well… it seemed to fit, I guess. I didn’t know how to do it, so I just went with what seemed right.”

“Ah, a natural. That explains a lot.” Before I could form a reply, she added, “And as for going down on you… well, I think I’ve wanted to since the day we met. You’re beautiful, you know.” Her fingers continued unabated.

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it, Aimee. Great face, big tits, a tight little ass, and a killer body. And limber as hell… why’d you quit ballerina-ing?”

I was fairly reeling under the barrage of compliments, not knowing quite what to make of it all. “Oh. Well, I’m… you know, kinda ‘top heavy’. For ballet.” I looked down at my breasts, one covered by Melissa’s gently squeezing fingers. “I guess they are too big.”

Mel snorted. “If you mean, bigger than mine are, the answer’s yes. If you mean, too big to perform professional ballet and take up mincing as a career until you get old at twenty-five or so, the answer’s maybe. If you mean, does that rack preclude you from dancing like something out of 1001 Erotic Nights… the answer is an emphatic, hell, no!” She emphasized her point with a tweak to my nipple, making me gasp a little. “You’re hot, sexy, talented, and completely uninhibited when you’re with me. I’m telling you this as a friend.”

That windswept feeling came again, and I knew she was right; I was. Just foolish girl-shame making me doubt myself, unable to see who and what I was. I nodded gratefully, was about to speak when a thought occurred to me. It had been on my mind for a few minutes, and now I had to ask. “Mel. Could I… do it to you?”

She looked at me, all eyes as my hand strayed hesitantly between her thighs, seeking her out. “Baby,” she said softly, spreading her thighs to accommodate my hand, “No one with a pulse could resist you.”

And within moments we were masturbating each other, lips pressed together, arms holding each other as close as we could without interrupting each other. She kissed me fervently, aggressively, and I responded in kind, our tongues wrestling together playfully, now in my mouth, now in hers. The taste in her mouth, I realized, was my own; smooth and pleasant, not at all like I would have expected. Her expert manipulation was ramping me up, getting me excited again, and we began to kiss less and less as we both needed to gasp for air, panting.

I didn’t want to come yet; she’d just brought me to climax a few minutes before, and I was approaching another one rapidly. I disengaged, grinning at Melissa’s inchoate whimper, and slid off of the couch, maneuvering between her tanned legs. “Time for me to try my hand at this,” I told her, false confidence becoming real.

“You already tried your hand,” Melissa told me, steering me in. “Time to try your… ahhhhh… oh, yeah…”

Another first. I was nervous, at first, but Mel was great, nudging me with her hands and thighs to just the right spots. She wasn’t at all shy about telling me how I was doing, urging me vocally as well as physically. In a few minutes I knew I was getting the hang of it. “Yeah, baby… there… now up, just like… yeah. Do it… like you like it done, that’s the trick… pretend you’re going down on yourself, at first… my pussy is your pussy… your pussy is mine… ah! Naughty girl…”

I’d given her a little tongue flick across the clitoris, something she’d done to me earlier, and suppressed a grin at its effectiveness. “Take your time, baby… lick me right… there… oh, god, yes… stay there, for a little while… slower… yes. Oh, yes, Aimee, yes… baby…”

She’d taken hold of my head by then, pulling me hard into her mound with both hands. I had a sudden flash of why boys like pigtails on a girl, and tried to breathe through my nose as best as I could while keeping up the pace. Lick her like she licked you… my pussy is her pussy…

If my orgasm had been noisy, hers was deafening, probably waking the neighbors, not that either of us cared any more. “Oh, god, Aimee… Oh. Oh, oh, oh… ohhh… ahhhhhhhRRRRRRRRHHHHHH! Mmm, mm, mmmmrrrrhhhh! Oh….”

I kept at it until her grip slackened, happily tonguing away at her pulsing nest. When her contractions finally subsided, I clambered back up to the couch, happily sharing her taste with her (sharper than mine, strong and sweet) and holding her naked body to mine. “Was that ok?” I asked sincerely, brushing her hair with my hand. “Only I’ve never–”

“Just fine, baby, just fine.” She kissed me with an affectionate caress on my cheek. “A natural. You’ll be a world-class carpet-muncher in no time, I guarantee.”

My face clouded. What was I doing? I wasn’t a lesbian! And what about Phil, who…

“Aimee.” Melissa’s tone brought me bolt upright. “As a friend. Forget about past relationships, for tonight. Forget about what you’ve liked and disliked about sex. Tonight, try anything I suggest, ok? Tonight, anything goes.”

I frowned, confused, while I sorted myself out. But I… I… I won’t get anything accomplished moping all night. Tonight, I can be myself. Tonight, I can be free. “What past relationships?” I joked.

Melissa laughed, punching me on the arm. “That’s the spirit. C’mere.” She pulled me in for a kiss, and I followed gladly. Mel looked down when we finally broke apart, shaking her head.

“Now, now,” she tsked, watching my surreptitious hand fingering myself. “None of that, you little vixen.”

“Aw…” I whined, mimicking a grounded teen’s wheedling. “But I wanna come again! Please, Mel, can I? Pleeease?”

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically, pulling my hand away. “And no, at least, not that way.” She brought my fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean before continuing. “I’ve got plans for that hot little box of yours, baby.”

Watching her suck my juices off of my fingers got me wet again almost instantly, far more effectively than my own amateur fingers had been. But I couldn’t let that shot go unanswered. “‘Little slut’, eh? If I’m you’re whore, what does that make you?”

Mel grinned. “Lucky.”

Defeated. I gave an exaggerated sigh, then perked up. “What kind of plans?”

Mel’s grin got bigger. “Go look in the bag and find out.”

Intrigued, I rose and unzipped the heavy black bag she’d brought. It was nearly full, but not with books, as I’d assumed. I touched one or two things, pushing clothes and unfamiliar items aside, scarcely daring to disturb the jumble. “Ye gods, Mel…”

Handcuffs. A wad of cash. Assorted underwear, the most conservative a thong with kitty-cats printed on it. Some kind of miniskirt, made of a shiny material I couldn’t identify. A rubber ball fixed halfway along a thick leather string, with bite marks on one side. “What… what is all this stuff? Like, for instance…” I drew something out, mostly straps. “This?”

“Oh! Wow. What interesting tastes you have, Aimee.” Melissa stood and stretched like a cat. “Give it here and I’ll show you.” I handed it to her, and she kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks, doll. Have a seat; watch and learn.” I sat, and watched, fascinated, as made sense of the mass of black strips.

Ever seen one of those optical-illusion pictures, where it looks like a blur of colored dots, and then, all of the sudden, you’re seeing a dolphin or a face or something? It was like that. What had been a mess of belts hanging loosely around a black cylinder suddenly became a strap-on phallus… no, a dildo, I corrected myself. Stop being so prudish. It hung from Mel’s hips, pointing up at a jaunty angle, always ready…

“It’s… it’s a little silly, isn’t it?” I ventured.

Mel nodded. “Some, but it has its uses. And it’s not half as silly when it’s in you.” She caressed it as though it were a part of her, giving a mock-shiver as she did so.

I realized what she had in mind, and found myself beginning to squirm in anticipation. “Mel,” I asked, half-serious. “Are you going to… are you going to fuck me, with that?”

Mel chuckled warmly. “What an eager little slut you are! All in good time, baby, all in good time.” She stepped forward, and I grasped the tool in my hand, seemingly by instinct. “Truth is, it’s not nearly as good as a real cock. Not as warm or friendly, no grateful man attached to the end. And no gratifying spurt for a job well done. On the other hand, it never gets soft or comes too soon, and sometimes a man’s not around to reach that… special itch.” Her hand crept around to the back of my head, drawing it close to the dildo. “And it makes for a good teaching aid, as well. Ever given head to a man before?”

I shook my head, and kissed it impishly on the tip. “But I’d love for you to show me how, lover.” I don’t know where that came from, it just seemed… appropriate, all things considered. And as I wasn’t dating at the moment… why not? I took the plastic into my mouth experimentally, a good inch and a half.

“‘Lover’… I like that. Call me that from now on, ok? As a friend I know I’d appreciate it.”

“Uh huhn…” I began pumping my head on her shaft.

“Good. Don’t be afraid to use a hand or two. Especially if he’s big, or not quite hard yet… although I doubt you’ll get that very often, baby. Good. Now keep a little suction on it, but not a lot, and start pumping. Use your neck and shoulder muscles, so you don’t get tired. Good… let your tongue kind of hold it from underneath. Firm but not hard.”

She was getting into it now, rocking a little on her feet, but she kept up the lecture. I was all ears. “Make a little eye contact too, from time to time. Be flirty, or give him an ‘I want you in me’ look. Guys dig that.” I looked up into her eyes, and gave her a wink. “Jesus, Aimee, you’re getting me wet again, just watching you.”

She had begun to pump it into my mouth, matching my rhythm. “It’s good to moan, too; remember he can feel that, as well as hear it. You can do a lot with your hands, too. Play with yourself, pinch your nipples, or hold onto him if you trust him not to go too deep. Don’t let him pull your head onto him; that’s a fast ride to gagsville. Suck a little harder, or use your hand; he won’t know the difference.” I slowed, took her deep, three or four inches, showing off.

“A natural,” she sighed. “Let’s try something, baby.” I stopped obligingly. “Ok. Take it as far as you can comfortably, but not so far that you gag.”

I slid down her pole cautiously, taking it into my mouth one slow inch at a time. I got to about four, maybe five inches before I felt a warning in my throat and stopped. “Uhn.”

“Not bad at all, baby. That’s your gag reflex. In time, you can learn to suppress that. But for now…” She placed both hands on my head, cradling me, not forcing me. “Take it forward, really slow. Loosen your throat, like you’re clearing your voice, and tilt your head forward just a bit.” I did so, and was amazed as another inch slid in, clearing my throat. I tensed for a moment, afraid she would move and choke me, but she didn’t. I relaxed, impressed with my fledgling skill. “Mmmm. Mmmmmm…”

“Damn… Aimee, you could get a rise out of a statue. Hold it there baby… just nod when you’re ready. Ok? All right. Now, pay close attention. Press your lips together, a little too tight. Now, suck in a little harder, and raise your tongue along the whole bottom, as much of it as you can. Got it? Now, loosen your lips and give a long, slow gulp, like you’re swallowing Jell-O.”

I followed her instructions exactly. “Good. Now again, faster. It should be one long motion. It’s called ‘The Fist of Venus’, and it’ll make damn near any man come the first time you do it. Try it again, lover.”

Lover. The word sent a thrill through me. I kept swallowing, trying to build it into a seamless rhythm. For a while I forgot what I was doing, learning an advanced oral technique from my bisexual best friend whom I’d just made love to, and simply practiced. I wasn’t straight, I wasn’t gay, I was… I don’t know. I was me, I guess: shy and bi and sweet and slutty and wicked and wild… I was so into sucking Melissa’s strap-on that I didn’t stop until she tapped me on the head.

“Aimee, we have a visitor.” I withdrew carefully, grudgingly, and turned my head to find the interloper.

A man, about my age. Maybe five ten, sandy brown hair. Decent body, nice blue eyes. He’d come out of nowhere – I guess I hadn’t heard him come in – and I didn’t know him from Adam. Mel stayed cool, serenely making introductions between an expressionless newcomer and her kneeling supplicant. “Aimee, this is Phil.”

“Hi,” I managed. Who the heck was he, and why was he showing up in the middle of our fun? I’d taken Mel’s advice and had been diddling myself while I sucked her, and now denied my pleasantly diverting activity, I was getting antsy to get back to broadening my horizons with Mel. But she had other ideas.

“Phil, why don’t you put that stuff down and come over here?” Mel tousled my hair as he set down his duffle bags. “My randy little roundheels here sucks a mean dick.” She looked down at me approvingly. “Aimee, how about a little demonstration for the man?”

Here? Now? Blow some guy I’ve just met? “My pleasure,” I said, looking at Phil. I unzipped him with relish and took his cock out. It was a big one, and getting bigger as I contemplated it. “Wow,” I said, unable to stop myself. “Just look at this, Mel. He’s like a horse!”

Melissa was kneeling down beside me, and gave his swelling tool a mischievous lick. “Yup. Why do you think I brought him?” She licked him again, her long tongue curling around his manhood. “Delicious. You give it a try, baby.”

And I did, poorly at first. He was a lot bigger than Mel’s play-toy, thicker and longer. Melissa joined in once I got my feet under me (so to speak), and the two of us took turns sucking him off, kissing and fondling each other as we did. It was unhurried, lighthearted fun, and I hadn’t even gotten around to showing Phil my new trick when he began to stiffen in the early stages of orgasm.

Luckily Mel noticed too, and was ready for it. “No, Phil, don’t come. Not until we say you can.” Almost at once, he relaxed, and I swear he got just a fraction softer in my mouth, rock-hard instead of iron-hard. I pulled off of him and looked at my friend, questioningly.

“Phil’s like a good dog,” she said, as if that explained everything. “A very loyal, very obedient dog. She drew me to my feet with her, ignoring the stationary man. “He’s ours, baby. Anything we want him to do, he’ll do, just for the privilege of getting with two delectable pieces of ass like ourselves.” She gave me a long kiss, then draped her arm around my shoulder. “Got any ideas?”

Plenty. “How about fucking us both silly?”

Mel looked at Phil in pretend amazement. “I swear, it’s like she reads my mind. I guess that’s what happens when you’re with someone long enough, huh?”

“Absolutely, lover,” I replied. Phil seemed to tense at that, but nothing more. I dismissed it as a trick of the light. “So what now?”

Mel’s arm dropped, and she took me by the hand. “Another little surprise. Phil, I want you to strip down to your shorts and set up the camera equipment in Aimee’s bedroom.” She flashed me a winning smile. “What’s your darkest, most secret fantasy, the one you’d never tell anyone?”

Anyone but her, she meant, but I knew that. I’d do anything she asked me to. “Well… rough sex. Doesn’t every good girl want to play dirty?”

Melissa laughed, like silver bells tinkling. “Probably; I know I do! Wanna see it?”

I pretended to think about it. “Maybe… but only if I’m in it.”

“Count on it. Just do everything I tell you to, as a friend, and you’ll love every minute of it.” She kissed me again, and then turned to Phil. “So we’re agreed, then; we’re role-playing Mel’s little rape fantasy. Once you’re recording, give us… oh, twenty minutes, then barge on in. You’re a jealous boyfriend, who’s just come home to his virginal girlfriend – played by the angelic Aimee, here.”

I curtsied. “But wait! Aimee has succumbed to the seductive wiles of a bisexual temptress, moi, and the Sapphic pair are caught in flagrante delicto. Outraged, the estranged lover subdues the girls, ties them up, and proceeds to teach them both a lesson they’ll never forget. If they want to be whores, you’ll treat them like whores, and they want to be lesbians… well, you should show them exactly what they’re giving up. Sound good?” she asked, the last directed to me.

“No… it sounds great!” I enthused. “How much of a fight do you want me to put up?”

“To me? Very little. Pretend you’re overwhelmed by my charms and your own longing to be freed from sexual innocence. But when Phil comes in…” She smiled wickedly. “Fight as much as you like. Me, I intend to scream every time I come.”

Her brow furrowed for a moment in thought. “Phil, two new keywords, for Aimee or myself. ‘Yellow Light’ means stay in character, but stop doing what you’re doing. ‘Red Light’ means stop everything, and wait for orders. And ‘Green Light’…” she licked her lips, “means, keep doing what you’re doing, only moreso. Otherwise, you ignore our cries and pleadings for mercy. And make sure at least one of us can speak at any given time.” She turned to me again, face flushing with excitement. “Got all that?”

I nodded happily. “I want to be spanked until I cry, Phil,” I told him, figuring a little pre-show coaching wouldn’t hurt. “Slap me a little, too. Not hard, but I want you to slap me once or twice while you fuck my brains out.” I looked sideways at Mel, who was nodding along. “And make me lick Melissa, too. Make me do all kinds of things to her, and with her.”

Phil’s face was inscrutable, but his erection had never flagged. I squeezed Mel’s hand in mine and started to lead her to the bedroom, letting Phil start unpacking his camera stuff. “I think I love you,” I told her.

“I think I love you, too,” she told me, eyes twinkling. “As a friend.”