Dusk was falling as we swung off the highway and onto the ferry road. I could smell the salty tang in the air, familiar but always fresh. Peering ahead eagerly, I waited for my first view of the bay and wondered if the peninsula would be visible across in the distance. Wouldn't it look different to someone who was actually going there?
Fleur's eyes must have been sharper than mine. Or else she knew better where to look – off at an angle, evidently. Anyway, I was still pretty disoriented when she caught a glimpse and uttered an unmistakable snort of displeasure. Then she pointed it out to me through a cluster of trees and small bungalows, the ferryboat looming dark in the water.
"Over there. See? We just missed it."
"How can you tell? Maybe it's just coming in."
"Nope. No such luck. Or there'd be a line of cars, silly."
"Oh. Of course. I'm stupid, not silly. How long will we have to wait?" I was disappointed by the delay. "Maybe we ought to go back to the highway and take the other route, huh?"
"I'm thinking about it, sweetie." Then, "Oh, the hell with it, I'm tired of driving." Her hand fell on my thigh casually. "It's only a half-hour or so. We might as well relax. Kind of gives us a chance to get better acquainted…"
Her voice drifted off, somewhat speculative in tone, but the meaning wasn't exactly ambiguous to me, not with that hand of hers still retaining contact as the car rolled in toward the entrance to the ferry slip. More than just contact now, stroking and gripping lightly, an obvious caress that continued while the other hand attended to the mechanical details, the wheel, the brake, the ignition. And then at last we were parked and in place, motionless except for those mercurial fingers on my leg.
I remained noncommittal, avoiding even an acknowledgment of the situation. Or at least that was the impression I tried to convey. But I couldn't control the rippling surge of excitement that raced through my body, surfacing here and there, a telltale signal that practically shrieked aloud. My nipples ached, sensitive now even to the fabric of their confining cover. Down below, the squirming sensation in my cunt came as a renewed reminder of how and when and where it had first gotten so clammy. Every ripple, every tremor, every unseen palpitation seemed to reach its own spiteful climax there, lacerating my clitoris with almost caustic precision. So wet how! Not just clammy any more, inflamed. As though each squiggle of body turbulence could end only by shooting its own hot little load, each wringing out a final drop of acid…
"Like I said, honey, a chance to get better acquainted."
"Oh?"
"You know. After all, you're going to be one of the family, aren't you? No more roadside waif."
Even with her sexual advances turning me giddy with anticipation, I couldn't help but notice how she seemed to identify with Amanda somehow – the same "casual" caress, the same slightly condescending attitude, even the same speech patters. Did that portend the same style of lovemaking? Did she expect me to go down on my knees to her? I sure hoped not. Two bosses was one too many.
So far so good, though. As yet there were no overt indications of any such desire on her part. She was still fondling my legs with a certain restraint, taking only partial advantage of their limpness, parting my thighs gradually but making no attempt to paw around under the skirt. Her hand almost seemed to be pleading. So far so good! Except that I figured it was time to find out what she was pleading for. Even in the descending darkness, the front seat of an auto wasn't exactly suitable for a gay get-acquainted party.
"Fleur? Are you going to fingerfuck me? If so, you needn't be so dam sneaky about it. I'm willing. I mean, uh, as long as it's kind of an initiation into the family…"
"Fingerfuck? That's for beginners, baby. Wouldn't you rather have a little touch of tongue?"
"Sure. Who wouldn't? But not out here where everybody can see what we're doing. No, thanks."
"They won't see us. Only you."
"Huh? I don't understand what…" My puzzled voice broke off on a note of panic; it was suddenly quite obvious what she meant by that cryptic remark. Nobody was going to see her, certainly. And why would anyone even bother to look at me? Unless some busy-body got curious about a car with a disappearing driver.
She was already out from behind the wheel, one knee sinking to the floorboards. Her fingers, all ten of them now, were creeping up my thighs – under the skirt this time, a preliminary survey. Or was it just to put me in the proper mood? I sure needed a little more petting to calm my frazzled nerves. Think of the danger!
And yet, despite my well-warranted misgivings, I sat there without a squeak of protest, enumerating the various and sundry reasons to keep my legs open and my mouth shut. For one thing, I had brought it on myself with that deliberately vulgar "fingerfuck" talk; wouldn't it brand me a poor sport to back out now? Then too, only a few minutes ago I had worried about winding up with too many bosses – oh shit, that could have been me kneeling down there! – what a relief to breathe easy and hold my head high.
I squinted and swung my gaze in an arc, first one side and then the other. Out back, too. Checking for possible snoopers. There were cars lined up behind us now, dark and lifeless, just like ours. Hmm. Maybe they were all asleep. Just like the blonde boss-lady back there, missing all the fun. Wasn't anybody even interested? – One more reason to stay loose and just let it happen. If nobody else owed, why guilty? Only I did, of course, I felt the guilt and the shame and the prickling excitement of danger – enough to give another thought to ending this foolish exploit before it got out of hand. There was still time. Still a final decision to make. Those clammy panties of mine; should I close my legs and arch up and let the last barricade tumble? Yes or no?
Hah! Some barricade. Too sheer and too sleazy. Fleur made the decision for me – a tug, a tear, a twist of the wrist – leaving my panties still on, but with the crotch in shreds. Oh well, at least they didn't feel so clammy any more. I couldn't scold her for it. It was quite comforting to do away with decisions and such – not to mention clammy underwear! – and besides, who could be angry at a moment like this? I was lucky just to survive. When that sucking mouth locked onto the lips of my cunt, I moaned and lurched and struggled to remain lucid enough to savor every tiny spark of sensation before it flashed to peak brilliance and faded into oblivion. Only the flashes came too hot and heavy to separate as the maddening suction aroused my flesh to thrill-swollen tumescence, and my bid for lucidity simply couldn't keep pace.
Not that it mattered. Survival seemed more important at this point. Something new had been added, a fluttering tongue-tip with the force of a jackhammer. Incredible! That was a small woman down there, a small young woman with a comparatively small tongue; where did all the power come from? I could almost hear it rattling inside my skull. Even the stiffest of tongues is soft by nature, but this one was chipping away at my cunt like a pneumatic drill let loose on an asphalt pavement. Fiendish! First the shredded panty-crotch, now a pulverized pussy; what was she trying to do, sabotage my personal body ecology?
Ah, but what a way to go! Kill me, you cuntlapper!
It was coming on now, the big blast, the beautiful orgasm achieved only among beautiful lesbians – the one I had waited all my life for. The first of many to come! Only I couldn't look that far ahead at the moment, not with that uniquely indomitable tongue-tip crowning its day's labor of love with an all-out assault on my poor defenseless clit-button. It was all I could do to seal my lips against a scream, choking it back down to vent itself as a visceral rumble. I didn't even know what to do with my hands, clutching that half-buried hidden head one minute and squeezing my hot-nippled itchy tits the next – all to the sexy rhythm of my high-spirited ass bouncing around on the car seat. My legs were no problem, though – she had long since draped them over her hunched shoulders, giving her added concealment under the canopy of my spread skirt.
And then for a little while I had no problems at all, blasting off from the released coil-spring of sexual tension, off on a magic carpet of clitoral excitation to float free and carefree in the gorgeous pink mist of my climax. A time of unwound clocks and unturned calendars. A time of unadulterated ecstasy…
"Honey?" Her murmur dispelled the haze.
"Mmm. Huh?"
"Now your one of the family. Almost, anyway."
"Thanks."
"Remind me. I owe you a pair of panties."
I sighed blissfully. "My pleasure. Forget it."
"My pleasure. I insist. Panties, one pair. Not that you'll need 'em out on the peninsula."
"Oh?"
"You practically live in a bikini. Especially with a figure like yours. Anyhow, dress is pretty casual – except maybe for panties and such, just to show off, you know? And even then, well, if it's a swinging party, just among us girls…"
"Sounds wild, I think I'm going to like it out there."
"You should. Oh, you'll be a big hit, kid, you'll have the old biddies hot on your trail. With their tongues hanging out. Prime young stuff, just hatched. Cute little cunt. How can you miss?"
"Thanks a lot." I couldn't help scowling. "First you say I'm almost one of the family, whatever that means. And now you call me a cunt. Or even a cute little cunt – it's still not very flattering, is it?"
"No offense, honey. I didn't call you a cunt. Is that what it sounded like?" Fleur sat back on her haunches, still making no effort to rise. The touch of her hand was intimate but quick, hardly more than a fleeting gesture. "This was what I meant. You've got a cute little cunt. And I ought to know."
I suffered a small qualm, mildly embarrassed by my display of petulance. An apology was in order, probably, but it stuck in my throat. Her smile was faintly visible in the murky gloom, accentuated by a surface glimmer of moisture on her upturned face. On her lips and chin and cheeks, smeared with the sex-juices of my body. Wasn't that smile just a bit smug? Maybe I hadn't misunderstood in the first place, maybe she was weaseling out of it; maybe only the smugness was sincere, putting her one-up on me. No apologies then, no sheepish self-reproach. Better to smile right back and even the score.
"Uh – huh. I'll take your word for it. You ought to know, you cute little cuntlapper."
"Hmph! Just cute? My dear, I'm supposed to be an expert."
"You are, you are. Cutest little expert…" We were grinning now, both of us, both aware of budding camaraderie, a rapport about to blossom. Only it got stomped on by the boss-lady, back among the living after her nap; what a shock!
"Well? Are you two going to fight or fuck? Although judging by what I've seen, you must be all fucked out by now."
I swung around, startled. "Oh! Amanda, you're awake?"
"Foolish question. Just take a sniff, darling, the inside of the car smells like sex under a blanket. I've been awake since your panties got popped. Either that or I'm in the middle of a wonderful wet dream. I am one horny bitch right now, with one big old horny cunt in need of exercise. Fleur baby, seeing as how you're such a cute little expert cuntlapper…"
"Gladly. I'd rather fuck than fight anytime." Scrambling up eagerly, Fleur was already smacking her pretty lips – reactivating her taste buds, no doubt – but then she groaned and came to an abrupt halt in mid-journey. "Of all the bad timing! Look out there on the bay, the lights coming in; that's our Goddamn ferryboat, wouldn't you just know? And there's no way out, we're at the head of the line. You want to come up front and drive? Then maybe I can duck down under the wheel and…"
"Shit! Never mind. It's too complicated. I'll just sit here and become a nun. What's a little agony, right?"
It must have been instinct that spurred me to action. I sure didn't stop to think about it, anyway. All of a sudden there I was, clambering over the back of the seat and tumbling into the darkness below, a brave young lesbian with a mission. Funny. Even then my motive wasn't exactly clear to me. Was it a duty to perform, a means of showing my gratitude? Or could it have been a deeper feeling, a drive, a basic urge, the very essence of my earthly existence; let's face it, Loi baby, cunt is cunt…
"Oh, you darling girl! You were really serious about going all the way, hmm? Such a sweet little mouth. Does it do tricks, that little mouth of yours?"
"Ummm. I'm no expert. Just roadside waif, remember?"
"Not any more. You're one of the family."
"Mmm?"
"You belong to rue now. Suck, suck. No hurry, though. We've got plenty of time. I'll bet you've been thinking about this for hours. I know I have. Let's make it last, shall we?"
That was fine with me. I had forgotten how utterly captivating a mature lesbian cunt could be. Crouching low and nuzzling deep, I immersed myself in the rapture of its scented wet warmth, glad to sacrifice lucidity for this indescribably beautiful intoxication. It was like a happy dream, aglow with the myriad shades and nuances of erotic fire. Somehow, despite my lack of experience, I seemed to be almost intuitively attuned to the intricacies of the female body, the hot convolutions of flesh, the tortuous network of nerves, all the component parts of the miraculous lesbian love machine. It just seemed to come naturally. And it was encouraging, of course, to recognize a certain physical vindication of my judgment now and then – a twitch, a quiver, a voluptuously responsive purr of excitement…
"Right there, darling. Oh, that's just lovely. You're very good for a beginner. Ah! Slowly, though. Slow and easy, my sweet impetuous honeybee, it's a long night and the honeycomb is heavy with honey. Just for you, all that cunt-honey; don't you just love the taste of me?"
Amanda had one leg up on the seat now, extended to the side; she was wriggling her hips languorously, moving like a lazy serpent with nowhere to go. Entwined in my hair, the caress of her fingers was vigorous enough to betoken possession. I didn't mind. In this intoxicating dream of mine, we belonged to each other. And as long as her sweet cunt-honey kept dripping into my mouth…
Loud noises penetrated my shell intrusively, filtering through the thick perfume, the soft insulation of my dream-mood. Disturbed by the change, I raised my head to look around, almost panicky. But the hands in my hair drew me back down again, down to the honey-laden flesh that sucked my face in with a lewd gurgle of welcome. And then I heard her whispering from above, coaxing, wheedling, crooning a message of tranquility and amorous tidings: the ferry had docked and we were going aboard, but why bother with the grimy details of travel when I could remain right there and make the crossing perfect for both of us?
Why indeed? I felt comfy-cozy in the shelter of those silken thighs, shielded from the mechanical furor outside. Inspired, eager to show my approval. I diverged momentarily and got playful, ducking down lower to tongue-wash the slick little ridge of skin between her cunt and her ass, the taut stretch that separated one intimate orifice from the other. Only for an instant, though, and then I slid back up again to part the slippery vulva-lips with a bob-and-wiggle of my head, squirming deep to smear my face around inside the steamy slit.
"Darling, how nice! I had no idea. So it does do tricks, that clever little mouth of yours…"
After awhile I became vaguely conscious of the car wheels turning and then the unsteady motion of buoyancy on water. But my shell had already closed around me, a scented thatch work of thrills that stood guard against further intrusion, shutting out the clamor, the gasoline fumes, the lights, the creak and shudder of the ferryboat breasting the waves. A good thing, too. How else could I be sure of carrying out the boss-lady's command to suck her cunt all the way across the bay?