Butterflies: Lesbian b**m

Chapter 3

She noticed her n*****s were swollen and she grabbed both breasts and jiggled them up and down whilst blowing her reflection a theatrical kiss. Turning for a rear view she observed that although the bird’s nest on her head was in dire need of a top stylist, clearly no bottom stylist was necessary. Her bum was still rounded and peachy, with soft, smooth cheeks. She had always thought it too big but Mark absolutely loved it. Even hidden under clothes all she had to do was wiggle her hips or stick it out in his direction to give him the kind of stiffy a teenager would be proud of. However shallow, she could not help but be flattered by his constant erections in her presence, and she in turn was deeply attracted to him.

He was a rare breed, a genuinely nice person. He was patient, intelligent and funny, and she loved sharing their hours together. They could talk openly about their desires, and he responded to what he heard, trying to take her as close as possible to her fantasy of being under another’s total domination. She went weak at the knees at every s****l command he issued. She would simply be incapable of refusing any demands he made of her. She loved his imagination and the way he could conjure up sexy scenarios to relate to her. He seemed a little obsessed with lesbians, but hey! Before him, she had barely considered what it would be like to lick another girl’s p***y, and now she was positively dying to try. Their relationship was let down on only, that their wedding anniversary fell on different days. They were married, but not to each other, and Becky’s husband couldn’t have been less like Mark if he tried.

He had always flirted with her but it had got more apparent and private in the last eighteen months since her promotion to Section Manager of the customer services team, with him as Sales Manager directly above her. She was already having her own private nightmare at home and she welcomed his advances as a diversion to the worry of simple day to day living. Their closeness made her forget her troubles, if only briefly. She saw him as her knight in shining armour, arrived to take her away from the problems that weighed her to the floor. Ironically, all those years ago she had seen her husband as her saviour, when he took her and the daughter that wasn’t even his own, and promised to love and cherish them, for better or for worse. Now it was him she needed saving from and Mark looked like being the one to do it. Their mutual attraction became obvious; the desire for each other dampened only by the burden of their marriage vows. Then came the annual office flirter’s gift of the Christmas party, where alcohol blew away the final resistance and they kissed at last. Still the enormity of what they were about to do kept their lusts at bay for the next few tantalising months. Then finally they had no more will to withstand it and he f****d her for the first time in a whirr of bursting excitement, right there over his desk. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the initial bliss of his thickness inside her.

He was her world for a while, each snatched moment of intimacy the thing that kept her going. They were full of each other, desperate for physicality and aching for the next touch. All they seemed to talk about was s*x and fantasy and this at first heightened the attraction, but then later started to highlight the fact that their couplings were brief and intermittent, and constrained by circumstance and location. His office was their f**k-nest, bright and clinically unromantic, cut off from the outside world by blinds which, when partially closed, allowed you a fragmented view beyond into the work space, but no view in from the outside. They had to grab their opportunities during lunch hours when they were sure they would be alone and undisturbed, and these instances seemed to be forever on the wane, maybe happening only once or twice a week now. When at first he had been reckless and taken her at every possibility, now he seemed hesitant and wary of being discovered. At the start they had an extra chance, after work when everybody else had left and they could squeeze in a brief flurry of activity and not be too late home themselves. This had gone by the way once Becky had started bringing Kerry to and from work, and although she was just trying to do her young friend a favour she hadn’t realised at the time just how much she had shot herself in the foot.

So although her heart still raced with the excitement of seeing him and being in his company, she could already sense that the momentum of their relationship was lessening and that the whole thing was in danger of never blossoming from just another office fling into something true and meaningful, into something which would undoubtedly transform her life for the better. She had to push such thoughts hurriedly away, because the bitter concept of remaining trapped was crushing. She needed to escape from her stupid, self-centred husband and his on-line gambling habit that had crippled their family. She needed a lifeline to pull herself clear of the debts he had incurred in her name and which prevented her from running away from it all. She needed to get her chronically depressed daughter away from the s**t-hole of the estate they lived in, away from the scum that had caused the misery, away from the man who had taken her willingly as his stepdaughter but then grown increasingly to resent and even hate her as a constant reminder of his own impotency. And, maybe most of all, Becky needed to love. Not a maternal love, but a love that came as a gift outside of natural instinct yet was so strong that it lasted as if innate. Only this would make her life relevant after all. She was still young; thirty-four that very day, and to think that she might have frittered her one life away on a youthful fancy was just too unbearable. The love that filled her was mature now and she knew that passion brimmed with shared humour and interests, with common intelligence and sensuality as well as sexuality. She also knew that if she didn’t give this love soon then it might be too late, and all the beauty inside her would be wasted as age crept up on her and she sank back into the misery of the life she would do anything to leave.

For her daughter’s sake, for her own sake, she needed Mark to finish what he had started. She needed him to leave his wife and kids and be with her. Even as she thought the words she knew there was little chance of it happening. He adored his family, although he clearly didn’t find his wife as exciting as he did Becky. For him the status quo was perfect and he was happily feasting at two tables, taking what he wanted from each. Becky needed more, something solid and complete, and whilst she did not know if she could exist on his scraps alone, the thought of bringing an end to the little bliss she had frightened her beyond reason. If only he would defy logic and come for her. The phone on the sink buzzed and made her jump again, but still the butterflies of excitement were hatching in her belly—she just couldn’t prevent them. It was Mark, of course, just a simple message, but any words from him made her tingle, regardless of the content. This message said:

“Remember: dress to impress—the Americans are coming...”

Chloe

It was quiet in the back of the Merc. The road rumble and traffic noise was shut out so that all that remained was a low murmur from the car’s own engine. The partial tint of the rear windows helped cut intrusion from other inquisitive road users, whilst the shaded partition that segregated the driver from the passengers was raised to block out distraction from the front. Even the that was mounted in the seat in front of Chloe was playing with the sound off. On its small screen an unfortunate blonde was having her face pushed into a pink blancmange whilst a latex-clad b***h forced a whole hand up inside her. Chloe’s thoughts idly turned to earlier. Watching Sarah receive her whipping had proved very enjoyable. The girl could certainly absorb some punishment, and beneath her sobs and tears she always seemed close to exploding with ecstasy. She would willingly accept anything, and her filthy mind would love it all. She was a blank canvas onto which you could paint your depravity, and Chloe found that very appealing. The sight of the wobbling cane-stripped buttocks had got her close to demanding to be allowed to strap on a thick dildo and f**k the pony-girl right up her fat arse. She had kept quiet though. She knew she must not talk out of turn in front of the others while Gina was at work. She had to be seen to be toeing the line, or discipline would collapse and the whole bubble would burst. Clever Chloe knew the game, and it was in her interest to play it properly.

Her Mistress had been almost totally mute during their smooth cruise south, and Chloe knew that Gina’s thoughts were tied up with the stress of having to spend the next few days in tense meetings, doing some hiring but primarily firing. She had even given the same pep talk three, four times over to help Chloe steel herself for the unpleasantness of the tasks ahead, without really noticing that her young assistant didn’t actually give a f**k. The Mistress was too soft; she whipped arses with a gusto and devised delicious humiliations for her girls, but her compassion was pregnable and that made her weak. Chloe knew that Gina was a formidable character, but she also guessed that deep down she ached to be loved—and not as a Mistress, but as an equal. When the two of them were alone together Gina displayed a tenderness that the other girls didn’t see, as if it was beyond her to really hurt and degrade the one she truly loved, and hoped above all for the same affection in return. But people who are that rich can never be truly loved because their wealth clouds the issue—whether legitimate or not, the thought will always be in their mind: does she love me or just my money? Chloe wanted to be that rich. She could happily live without love as long as she got plenty of the dirtiest s*x with as many of the naughtiest young bitches she could lay her hands on. She had the looks for sure, but wealth gave you an unstoppable influence.

Gina was unquestionably beautiful but she was nearly twice the age of the girls Chloe habitually found to her taste. She had money though, and not only did the wealth help make and keep her beautiful, it had her dripping with a magnetic power. Chloe had eventually found it irresistible. She had allowed the older woman to woo her and take her out, to treat her and even to spank her. However, she resisted the offer to quit dancing and become Gina’s Personal Assistant until the initial salary proposal had been almost recklessly increased, and a car had been thrown into the bargain. Although she accepted the job she refused the offer of a room at Ashby. Since Chloe was then only twenty and living with her parents, Gina got little time to see her and still keep her harem running smoothly. Exasperated, the Mistress finally rented a flat for Chloe nearby, a secret that was kept from the others and only then would the younger girl allow herself to be reeled in and accept that the Mistress’s commands, at least in front of the others, were to be obeyed. She played the part of slave willingly enough, and certainly watching the perversions of the house was no hardship. Chloe loved f*****g and being f****d by girls, and when she and Gina were alone she was given more freedom to indulge herself than any of the others could imagine. She was treated to everything and paid for nothing. Her bank balance moved ever upwards as she took these freebies, and she got to go to bed with a voluptuous and beautiful woman who had a dirty mind and was still very sexy even though she was in her mid-thirties.