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Jan 4

What Happens At PECSA - Entire Story!

Summary: It’s your first PECSA weekend and you share an adjoining room with Barbara and Melissa.

Warnings: S-M-U-T, did I stutter? Filthy, dirty, sexy, unhinged. You’ve been warned! Religious guilt, threesome, begging, teasing, permission to come, cuddling, the works!

A/N: I’m feeling depressed as hell about going back to work after the holiday break and figured some of you might be in the same boat…hoping this makes it a little better 💖

Barbara Howard was a devout woman. She prayed. She performed acts of service. She tithed.

But beneath this veneer of perfection, she was still only human.

And like every mortal being, she wanted things she shouldn’t want, craved things she had no business craving…

Soft things.

Secret things.

And working with Melissa Schemmenti was an almost daily exercise in resisting temptation for such things.

Throughout most of the school year, Barbara did her level best to maintain professionalism, to resist the considerable charms of her coworker.

It wasn’t just that Melissa was beautiful (although those plump curves, those painted lips, that husky laugh were all plenty distracting.)

No, the real siren call was Melissa herself, how she moved through the world.

Her friend lived a life centered on the physical pleasures—eating the richest food, wearing the headiest perfumes, falling into bed with whomever caught her interest.

No apologies.

No hesitation.

Melissa took what she wanted.

And for 363 days a year, Barbara watched all this from a safe distance. From the shores of her own island, ensconced in a sanctuary of self-control.

But PECSA was different.

It was Barbara’s window of indulgence, her hall pass to another universe where the booze flowed, the music played, and the real world seemed to melt away.

This was the one weekend when she feasted on her fantasy, on the audacity and the red-blooded zest of a live lived to the absolute fullest, a cup running over and over and over.

It was a sin, she knew, to covet and lust.

But these were the days between famines, the days when Barbara allowed her hunger to be fed and her thirst to be slaked. When she flew as close to the sun as Icarus ever did. When she dared to live more freely.

At PESCA, she let her eyes linger on Melissa’s hips, just above the curve of her ass. She let Melissa grab her hand and lead her out on the dance floor, pressing their bodies together. She let that special Schemmenti smile hit her square in the chest, stealing her breath. The smile that told her, You could have all this, just say the word.

They had never crossed the line. Not really. Nothing that couldn’t be played off as two friends being affectionate.

And so Barbara squared it neatly away at the bottom of her ledger, balancing the books of right and wrong.

Besides, in comparison to what Melissa got up to after Barbara retired for the evening? It was innocent. Positively chaste.

And so, like every year, she arrived with a coil of excitement in her belly. Watched as Melissa checked them in at the front desk.

Barbara liked to watch.

How Melissa leaned forward just a little, how she tossed her hair over her shoulder, how she charmed her way through every interaction.

Barbara smiled, feeling herself slip back into that familiar headspace, enjoying the secondhand euphoria of Melissa’s flirtation. Every wink, every laugh…it was intoxicating. And usually, it would have been enough to dull the sharp edge of her desires.

But this year, there was a slight wrench in the plans. Because this year, you were here.

The most recent addition to Abbott Elementary’s staff. Young, charismatic, and extremely pretty.

When you first announced that you’d be attending the conference, Melissa had leaned over and made a lewd comment. Something about wanting to see those long legs in a swimsuit. She hadn’t bothered to lower her voice, speaking loud enough that you heard, grinned, winked at her with those dark eyelashes.

The energy between you swirled like a riptide.

Barbara had swatted Melissa’s arm, given her a standard rebuke: “Melissa, behave.”

But privately, she hoped Melissa wouldn’t. Because the picture that had formed in her mind’s eye was so delicious. Your bright eyes and your shy smile and good lord, that mouth. Barbara thought she wouldn’t mind watching Melissa unwrap you slowly, carefully, like the best present underneath the Christmas tree.

So, perhaps predictably, it started at the hotel pool…

It was early. Melissa had secured drinks while Barbara found seats in the sunshine.

“Cheers, Mrs. Howard,” her friend said with a smile. And Barbara felt the tension in her shoulders melting away.

Then you walked out wearing cutoff shorts and a baggy white t-shirt, carrying a towel in one arm.

Melissa clocked you right away. And as always, Barbara clocked Melissa. Watched the way her pupils dilated, her thighs shifted a bit, like she was trying to alleviate some pressure between her legs.

You stood for a moment, uncertain as you scanned the chairs, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Well, well, well,” Melissa purred, pushing her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “Looks like I’m gonna get my wish.”

Barbara tried to come up with a reprimand, but she found that her mouth had gone dry. Because just at that very moment, you were wiggling your hips, letting your shorts fall to the floor.

In the next instant, you were pulling the baggy t-shirt over your head. Your hair fell back around your shoulders, messy and beautiful. The sun caught some jewelry around your neck, glittering against your skin.

The bikini you had on was obscene.

Barely there.

Barbara clutched the crucifix resting against her chest, stroking the silver like a touchstone as she glanced around at the other guests. Even Melissa’s grunt of appreciation was mingled with something protective, edging toward jealous, as every eyeball at the pool swiveled in your direction. Your figure, statuesque and smooth, was enough to stop grown men and women in their tracks.

Melissa snapped first.

“Eyes forward, Dean,” she said, growling as a gray-haired teacher from a nearby school district toddled past and almost fell into the pool. “Ya filthy animal.”

Never mind that Melissa was also watching, eyes raking over the muscles in your shoulders and arms, the gentle swell of your breasts. And never mind that Barbara was watching Melissa, appreciating the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the pretty flush that had appeared just above her décolletage. A telltale sign that the redhead was bothered, distracted, thinking naughty thoughts.

Barbara couldn’t ignore the ache that settled low in her stomach, as always. She loved seeing Melissa like this, savored the look on her face, the way she lusted so openly.

Then you called Barbara’s name, and the older woman jumped, caught off guard, already feeling guilty for the swirl of indecency gripping her. It was one thing to covet Melissa, but to bring you into the mix felt positively scandalous.

Barbara glanced up to find you were walking over toward them, all smiles, oblivious to the stares of what felt like the entire PECSA attendee list.

You lowered yourself into a lounge chair beside Melissa.

“What are you drinking?” You asked, peering at the sweating glass in the redhead’s hand. “Looks good.”

Melissa smirked, offering it to you. “Want a sip, hon?”

You smiled, leaning forward, the muscles in your abdomen tensing. Then you did something that make Barbara Howard forget how to breathe. You wrapped your lips around the straw and suckled. It seemed innocent enough, but was there a glint of mischief in your eye?

Melissa’s smile quirked up at the corners, but otherwise she didn’t react. That was typical Melissa, always in control, never flustered. But when you finally released the straw, she reached forward, swiping a thumb across your bottom lip and catching a dribble of juice.

“Got a little on ya,” she husked, gripping your chin for a moment. “Messy thing.”

And now Barbara knew it wasn’t just her imagination. You were blushing, eyelashes fluttering closed briefly in pleasure.

If Melissa clocked it, she didn’t react outwardly. Just reclined in her chair, showing off her own body. She looked like a renaissance painting, her breasts practically spilling out of her top, her stomach soft and plump beneath the draping fabric.

“So,” you said, voice a little higher than usual. “What’s on the agenda tonight, neighbors?”

Melissa cocked her head to one side, comprehension dawning as you waved your room key.

“I’m right next door,” you said.

Melissa grinned. “We’ll probably have an early night,” she said. “Don’t want to go too hard on night one.”

“Boo.” You poked out your lip, pouting. “No fun.”

Barbara turned on her side, half-listening to the flirtatious patter of your voices volleying back and forth, carrying a little on the breeze. The sun was warm and she quickly lost track of what was being said.

Her gaze slipped over the pair of you, admiring the handsome couple you made. Melissa, all soft creamy curves, and you, toned and long beside her.

Barbara wondered if you could lift the redhead in your arms, sling her over your shoulder like a caveman. But she also knew that Melissa wasn’t one to submit. Not without a fight.

She swallowed thickly, caught up in a sudden daydream about the noises you both might make as you wrestled for dominance. At the inevitability of you finally submitting to her, whimpering as Melissa trailed soft kisses down your throat, coaxing you into a daze of sensation and pleasure.

She tried not to think about how much she would like to watch you squirming and desperate for Melissa’s hands. But it was a losing battle. She could easily picture the slack look of desire on your face, the way Melissa might slip her fingers into your open mouth, the way you’d suck her in like you had sucked on that straw…

“Barb?”

Melissa’s forehead crinkled in concern, noticing the glassy look in her friend’s eye.

“Mmm?” Barb said, fanning herself.

She watched you stand up and then slip into the water with something like hunger in her dark eyes.

Melissa lowered her voice, smirking as she connected the dots. “See something ya like?”

Barbara blinked, enjoying the foggy state of her growing buzz as she gulped down more of her drink.

“It’s not a crime to look,” she said with a little shrug, voice velvety and suggestive in a way that Melissa rarely heard.

The redhead smiled, watching you flick water out of your eyes as you resurfaced. You raised your hand, waving at both of them. Melissa wiggled her fingers back at you.

“No,” she agreed. “It certainly ain’t.”

————-

That had been hours ago.

Before the evening dinner and drinks. Before the after-party, the sweaty dance floor, the loosening of lips and tongues, the arrival of questionable decisions.

Now you were stumbling down the hotel hallway, fumbling with your purse, a lazy grin plastered on your face.

Wearing heels had been a mistake.

That last Math-a-Rita had been a mistake.

Plunging your hand into your purse, you rummaged for a few seconds trying to find your room key. Your fingers kept finding the same things — lipstick, wallet, nail file — but not what you were looking for.

You whined in frustration, realizing you’d have to go downstairs and request a new key from guest services.

But then a different solution occurred to you. One that would be much more fun, if you played your cards right.

You drew level with their room and hesitated for just a second before knocking, squaring your shoulders for the encounter.

Melissa answered the door and you felt your breath catch in your chest. She was wearing an oversized Eagles tee that fell to mid0thigh, hair slightly wavy and rumpled, face wiped clean of makeup. Her legs were bare.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

The word slipped out before you could stop it, and Melissa arched an eyebrow. “Well hello to you too, rookie.”

“Sorry.” You quickly stammered out a follow-up. “D-did uh—did I wake you?”

Melissa leaned against the door frame, drinking in the sight of you. Eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted.

“It’s 10:30,” she said. “We’re old, but we ain’t that old.”

You giggled, dimples deepening, hair falling across your face as you swayed slightly. And Melissa felt desire flare to life in the pit of her stomach. The sight of you like this — pliant and pretty and so perfect — ignited something feral in her.

“Who is it, dear?” Barbara called, interrupting Melissa’s thoughts.

“Abbott Elementary’s best and brightest,” the redhead said over her shoulder, never taking her eyes off you. “You need something, hon, or did you just stop by for a bedtime story?”

“Oh.” The sound was more a sigh than a word, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath.

Melissa had a talent for catching you off guard. The idea of the other woman tucking you into bed shouldn’t have been so damn dizzying, so distracting.

“I - I uh, think I lost my room key,” you explained, refocusing on the problem at hand. “Can I come in?”

Melissa stepped back a bit, giving you just enough space to shimmy past. You maintained eye contact, inhaling slightly at the barely-there friction of your bodies brushing together, the feeling of her breasts against yours.

Melissa smirked, watching your cheeks go pink with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. Then she closed and latched the door.

Barbara was on the far bed, already under the covers. A few magazines were on the bedside table, as well as a small leather-bound bible.

Feeling emboldened by the alcohol and the sight of the glossy pages, you leapt across the room and landed with an oomph at the foot of Barbara’s bed.

The older woman arched an eyebrow at you, somewhat stern even in her pajamas. But you could see a flicker of interest in her eyes as you stared for a beat too long. She wore something silky and low-cut, not quite what you would have envisioned for the prim schoolteacher.

You heaved a sigh, looking at the other woman with a mixture of envy and something else. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“You’re so pretty, Barb.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond so she didn’t say anything. Then you dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“You and Melissa are like, the hottest teachers I’ve ever seen!” You exclaimed, kicking your feet for emphasis. “It’s not fair!”

You rolled onto your back, gazing at the ceiling. Your skirt had ridden up a bit, and your shirt was slightly twisted. Your eyes fluttered shut and Barbara wondered if you were falling asleep. Then in the next moment, you were reaching for one of the magazines.

“We should stay up all night and take quizzes about what kinds of boyfriends we’d be!”

You skimmed the pages, eyes unfocused.

“Or,” Melissa wheedled. “We could gossip about all the hookups happening downstairs.”

Barbara glanced over her reading glasses, dark eyes appraising, full lips edging toward a teasing smile. Something about your excitement, unbridled and silly, was infectious.

“I take it you had fun, dear?”

Melissa answered for you.

“I’l say,” she snorted, the noise somehow derisive and affectionate at the same time. “She’s hammered.”

You frowned, lounging on the bed. “Am not.”

And you weren’t — not really. The world just had a healthy, hazy glow. You glanced at Barbara, hoping she believed you. The other woman always made you feel uncharacteristically shy. Her attention and approval lit you up.

She seemed to deliberate, her eyes flickering briefly to Melissa’s. The glance they shared was no more than a moment, but something charged passed between them. Melissa cocked her head to one side, smiling, wondering if her friend would take the lead.

“Well?” Barbara prompted finally. “Tell us all about it.”

You complied immediately, discarding the magazine and rolling onto your side to face her.

Melissa watched as you kicked your heels off. Then, with a comically big breath, you began an animated stream-of-consciousness update.

About the grinding on the dance floor.

About the wandering hands.

About the couples paired up in dark shadowy corners.

Your cheeks glowed with excitement. Barabara could smell the sweet pink colada mixer on your breath, coconut and banana. As she breathed you in she almost felt her own buzz, which had retreated to a dull hum, reigniting. Her head swam pleasantly as she watched you.

Barbara wondered idly if this was what a sleepover felt like. She’d never really had any as a teenager. Girls swapping stories, sharing secrets in the gathering darkness.

She laughed as you collapsed back against the mattress, breathless from acting out a drunken dance between two teachers.

“There’s never any shortage of scandal at PECSA,” Barbara hummed. Then, reaching out to play with your hair, she added, “And you? Any handsome suitors beckoning you into dark corners, tempting you with a bit of bad behavior?”

She kept her tone deliberately light. But Melissa caught the undercurrent. The hard edge. She wandered closer to the bed, waiting to see how you would answer.

“I think that principal from Wellington was flirting with me,” you said, babbling happily at the attention from Barbara, leaning into her touch, oblivious to the jealousy until Melissa made a soft grunt of irritation.

You looked up, surprised to see a splash of red flushing her throat, a frown playing around her mouth. She reminded you of a bull pawing their hoof in the sand, right before they skewered a matador.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothin’,” she said, arms folded across her chest. “It’s just, half the conference was probably flirtin’ with ya, the way you looked tonight.”

“Oh,” you said, preening a little at the compliment even if it was laced with a rebuke you couldn’t quite decipher. Then, glancing down, you tugged at your shirt, attempting to straighten it. The only thing you achieved was exposing more of your cleavage. A muscle jumped in Melissa’s jaw.

“Was I…did my outfit seem…inappropriate, Ms. Schemmenti?”

The redhead narrowed her eyes. She knew you were winding her up. It would infuriate her if it didn’t turn her on so much.

“Aw, kitten,” she husked. “Don’t play dumb with us.”

You inhaled sharply at the shift in her tone—dangerous and possessive. Was Melissa jealous?

You flirted with her all the time, but you figured it would never go further than that. An idle game. A passing fantasy.

Suddenly, it seemed very possible that this assumption had been wrong. Before you could answer, Barbara interjected.

“I think what Melissa means, dear, is that…it has very little to do with the outfit.”

You turned to find Barbara reclined on her pillow, dark eyes raking over your shoulders, your chest. And holy shit, nothing could have prepared you for the look on her face. Like she wanted to eat you alive.

“Yeah,” Melissa added, stalking toward the bed. “More to do with the fact that you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

She came to rest right between your legs, which still dangled over the edge of the bed. She was close enough that you had to tilt your head to look up at her.

“But you already knew that,” she said, catching your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Didn’t ya, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, and she watched the delicate muscles in your neck bob up and down.

“Maybe,” you answered, mouth twisting to one side in a look of reluctant pride. “Just wanted to look nice for…for my first night here.”

Melissa arched an eyebrow. “That right?”

Then, with her knee, she edged your legs further apart. The feel of her crowding you like this was overwhelming, and you felt a pool of heat gathering low in your stomach.

“You want to know what I think?” She husked, swaying closer.

Her tits were just about at eye level and she wasn’t wearing a bra. You could see her nipples beneath the fabric, hard and begging to be touched. Your lips fell open instinctually.

A little further up the mattress, Barbara was watching everything play out. She was trying to act nonchalant. But her breathing was suddenly shallow. The air in the room felt impossibly thick, like the oxygen was disappearing.

“I think,” Melissa continued. “That you dressed up like this for me and Mrs. Howard here.”

You opened your mouth wider to answer, maybe to deny it, but the only sound that came out was a small pathetic squeak. Melissa’s smile was victorious, and she glanced up at Barbara.

“Hear that, Barb?” She asked, voice rough and teasing. “The rookie has a crush.”

Barbara cleared her throat suddenly, swiping a magazine off the nightstand and opening it to a random page. Her ears were buzzing, she felt lightheaded.

The ache between her own legs was back with a vengeance. And the sight before her—you, sitting on the bed at her feet, Melissa in her underwear watching you like a wolf watches a lamb—was too beautiful to resist.

“Well,” Barbara said, voice only shaking a little, eyes fixed on the page. “What do you intend to do about it, Ms. Schemmenti?”

You blinked slowly, positive you must have misheard. You were so used to her being the voice of reason, the one to pull Melissa back from the edge. But it sounded like Barbara was giving Melissa permission, encouraging her to..to what? Put you in your place? Teach you a lesson?

“Yeah,” you echoed, voice a little dazed and a lot desperate. “What are you going to do about it?”

Melissa’s pupils dilated, her eyes going almost black with desire. Then she leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. You hummed, pleasure jackknifing through your body as you surged up to meet her with an open mouth.

Melissa kissed like she talked: argumentative, feisty, impetuous. Her lips worked against yours, fighting for dominance. You surrendered almost immediately, enjoying the feel of her invading your personal space, her tongue pressing in and tangling with yours.

Then she broke away, kneeling down at the edge of the bed and dragging her hands up the outside of your thighs. Barbara turned a page in her magazine, pretending not to watch you fall apart. The indifference made you squirm with desperation, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Melissa gripped your cheeks, turning your face back toward her.

“For starters,” she said. “I’m going to take a look at what you’ve been parading around for the world word to see, angel. A little inspection. Would that be alright with you?”

You nodded, dumbstruck. The heat from Melissa’s hungry gaze combined with Barbara’s feigned disinterest was making your head spin.

“Yeah?” Melissa cooed, mocking you a bit. “That’s what I thought. You been trying to get our attention all day, huh? Hell, all semester.”

You whined, humiliation heating up your cheeks.

“That’s alright,” Melissa continued. “You got our attention now, princess. And we’re gonna take such good care of this needy little pussy. Aren’t we?”

Her eyes flickered to Barbara, who glanced up from her magazine just as Melissa gathered the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your hips.

That was when the other woman, who had remained silent so far, made a strangled noise.

“Holy shit,” Melissa breathed.

Indeed, Barbara thought. Emphasis on the holy.

Because you weren’t wearing anything underneath that tight little pencil skirt. And by now, your arousal had smeared down the inside of your thighs, slick and hot and so obvious that you thought you might die from embarrassment.

Even Melissa was rendered temporarily speechless by the sight.

You turned your head, pressing your face against Barbara’s thigh, trying to hide.

But you couldn’t stop now, couldn’t disguise your need for anything besides what it was. And when you rolled your hips, asking without words, she licked her lips, eyes drinking in the sight of your glistening pussy. You made another pathetic noise, canting your hips higher up off the mattress. The implication was clear.

Barbara was the first to gather herself.

She kept her tone flat, almost bored when she spoke, enjoying the obvious effect it had on you. You felt your walls fluttered, aching for attention.

“For Heaven’s sake, Melissa, don’t tease the poor girl.”

You raised your head, meeting her gaze. Your eyes were wide, glassy. Barbara pursed her full mouth, looking for all the world like she couldn’t care less about what happened next. It sent another bolt of neediness straight through your core. A whine slipped past your lips.

“Look at her,” Barbara continued. “She’s about to fall apart.”

Melissa chuckled, coming back to her senses.

“You’re lucky Mrs. Howard is here,” she purred, lining her fingers up with your entrance. “She’s nicer than I am.”

You opened your mouth to disagree, but in the next moment you were rendered speechless. Because in the next moment, Melissa was sinking into you and the sensation of being filled after so much buildup was overwhelming.

You arched your back, pressing Melissa deeper into your aching center. It was too much. It would never be enough. It was everything you had imagined and more, like a dream come to life. You rolled your hips once, twice, trying to find a rhythm.

“You like that, doll?”

She curled her fingers, brushing against that deep, desperate part of you, and you made a choked sound as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Answer me,” she cooed. “Use your words like a big girl.”

Your head fell back against Barbara’s leg and you blinked up at the ceiling. You thought you nodded, but you couldn’t be sure.

“S-so good,” you managed to say, rocking in time with her thrusts, grinding against her.

“That’s it, fuck me back,” Melissa purred, and you could hear the cocky smile in her voice. “Yeah, just like that. Knew you’d take direction so well.”

You cried out as she added another finger, driving into you with renewed force. It was almost too much, the pressure all-consuming.

“Melissa,” you sobbed. “Oh my god, Melissa, please!”

You didn’t know what you were asking for, just that you wanted to be good for her, good enough to earn everything she could give you.

You reached down, not thinking clearly, just wanting more of this feeling. First you ran your hand over your chest, groping your tits through the fabric of your shirt. But it wasn’t enough. Your hands slipped lower, fingers catching your clit and rubbing in big sloppy circles.

“You’re…so deep inside me,” you babbled. “You feel so good, Mel.”

Your arousal was slippery, hot as you moved your fingers. The extra friction was everything, pushing you closer to the edge. You clenched around Melissa’s fingers…but then she smacked your hand away.

“Not yet,” she said. “We got all the time in the world.”

Finally, Melissa looked over at Barbara, her green eyes cloudy with lust. The other woman’s face was slack, eyes wide with wonder as she watched the scene playing out.

Two heavenly creatures, giving into their carnal desires. Like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Like falling into sin was something holy, something inevitable. And perhaps it was.

How could something this beautiful be wrong?

Melissa tilted her head, like she could read every thought on the other woman’s face. For years she had watched her friend hold back, never quite surrendering to the urges so clearly at war in her heart. You had upended everything, eroded that control, tipped the indelible equation.

“What do you think of our girl?” Melissa murmured, catching the other woman’s eye. “Isn’t she pretty?”

Barbara hummed in the back of her throat, swaying forward a little, raking her eyes over your chest. Your shirt was still on, and your breasts were straining against the fabric, chest heaving.

“Take it off,” Melissa said, still lazily moving her hand between your legs. “Let’s see what she looks like all undone for us.”

Barbara glanced at your face, wanting permission.

“Come on, Mrs. Howard,” you said, voice hitching with desire and shyness. “You deserve to have a little fun.”

And there it was.

The forbidden fruit, plucked right off the tree and offered to her on a silver platter. The point of no return.

And finally, finally, the other woman reached down, heart galloping with need and excitement as she unfastened your shirt. Her fingers trembled with every button that came undone, with every inch of skin that came into view.

Your bra was lacy and red, and Melissa grinned. Because maybe you hadn’t planned this, but you had clearly wanted something to happen.

You reached up, unhooking the front-facing clasp with clumsy fingers. The cups sprang open and finally, finally, the last barrier fell away.

Barbara ghosted her palm over the flushed skin of your breast. You arched into her touch, groaning when her thumb flicked over your sensitive nipple.

“So soft,” she whispered, eyes fixed on your face contorting in pleasure. “Like satin.”

You placed your own hand over hers, pressing her closer against your chest, lacing your fingers through hers. And the smile you gave her was pure honey, sweet and shy and so damn pretty that she felt her heart clench.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Melissa?” Barbara purred, glancing at her friend, finding her own rhythm, pinching and playing with you. “So good for us, so perfect.”

Melissa hummed in agreement, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach. Then she glanced up, catching Barbara’s eye.

“Do you wanna feel her?” She asked. “Really feel her?”

Barbara stilled.

“Please,” you sighed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. “Need you both.”

And Barbara couldn’t find it in her heart to say no. Because how could it be wrong, something so divine, so natural?

In the next second, her hand was being guided lower, until suddenly Barbara’s fingers were brushing through damp curls. Then even lower, until she felt your silken heat. She took a shaky breath, circling your clit.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” Melissa said, bringing her palm down against your cunt and smiling when you cried out at the sting of her slap. “She can take it.”

Barbara made a hungry noise in the back of her throat.

“Is that right?” She asked, leaning closer. And almost without meaning to, her fingers slipped inside you. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Of course she had touched herself before. But this was different, better.

Your head tipped back as the other woman circled your swollen clit with the heel of her palm, slow and gentle at first. Melissa made her way back up toward your nipples, biting and sucking your smooth skin.

“Fuck,” you said, breath coming in jagged gasps. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Melissa placed a hand on your throat, applying jut enough pressure that made your vision go dim at the edges.

“Watch your mouth,” she purred into your ear. “Mrs. Howard doesn’t tolerate that type of language.”

You tried to apologize, but it came out as choked sound.

“Hmm?” Melissa cooed, angling her ear toward you in an exaggerated expression of confusion. “What’s that?”

She tightened her grip a bit more, compressing your airway further. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the heat in your stomach building, the pressure almost unbearable. Just as you were about to come, Melissa removed her hand from your neck.

“Not yet,” she said. “Not until you apologize for that vulgar language, young lady.”

You opened your mouth to obey, and suddenly Melissa’s fingers slipped inside, pressing down on your tongue.

“Well?” She said expectantly. “We’re waiting.”

“M-sry,” you mumbled around her fingers, feeling utterly humiliated when it came out so garbled that Melissa laughed.

“Pathetic,” she said, voice threaded with fondness.

Meanwhile, at the foot of the bed, Barbara’s fingers were moving lower, sliding inside, splitting you open again and again. You were right on the edge.

“She’s so wet,” Barbara remarked, her voice taking that distant quality again. That half-bored tone that drove you wild. “And look, she’s crying. Just from a few fingers.”

You wiggled your hips, trying to sink down further, to get the friction you so desperately needed.

“I’m so close,” you groaned.

“So pretty when you cry, angel,” Barbara breathed, plunging her fingers inside you again, savoring the way your face went slack, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“You wanna come?” Melissa asked softly, lips tickling your neck. You could feel the shape of her smile against your skin, and it drove you even closer to the edge. Knowing she liked what she saw, knowing she was toying with you.

You nodded frantically, chanting. “Yes, yes, yes.”

She hummed, pleased by your obvious desperation.

“Then beg for it,” Melissa said, pinching your nipple so hard that you arched off the bed. “You heard me. Beg.”

“Please let me come,” you groaned, barely able to form a coherent sentence as Barbara’s fingers scissored open inside you, stretching your walls in delicious agony. “Please, I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything. Wanna come for you.”

Melissa lowered her hand, skating along the flat plane of your stomach, down, down, down, until she finally found the hard ridge of your clit. And with Barbara’s fingers still buried deep inside you, she began drawing tight circles on the aching bundle of nerves. After so much neglect, the intense pressure was overwhelming.

“Oh fuck,” you cried, feeling the coil of pleasure go taut in the pit of your stomach. “I’m gonna —“

You couldn’t even finish the sentence. Everything went white, your body lighting up from the inside as your orgasm crashed through you, and you felt a sudden gushing between your legs.

Both woman kept going, working you through the wave.

“That’s it,” Melissa laughed, disbelief coloring her voice as she watched you drenching the sheets in your arousal.

“Such a good girl,” Barbara breathed in awe at what she had done, what she had caused.

Finally, your vision cleared and your body fell back against the bed, spent and boneless. Barbara gently withdrew her fingers, drenched in the evidence of your desire. She held them up to the light, glistening, and rubbed them together in obvious satisfaction.

But Melissa kept touching you, teasing you, working you up again. You winced, trying to close your legs.

“Sensitive,” you whined, hips bucking and trying to squirm away.

But she caught your knees, prying your legs back open.

“No,” Melissa said, holding you there. “You wanted this, you’re gonna take it. That’s right. And keep crying. So pretty for us.”

Your breath caught in your chest as the discomfort lessened, the pain giving way to pleasure again. And this time, it was even more intense. She played with you, alternating between rubbing tight circles and dipping her fingers into the sopping heat of your pussy.

“You can give us another one,” she said, watching your face hungrily. “I know ya can, princess.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, reaching up and gripping the back of her neck. “Make me.”

Melissa growled, smiling with all her teeth. “Brat.”

You pulled her closer, kissing her, hooking one leg around her waist. In this position you had better leverage. It was no problem at all to flip her on her back, to take your place on top, knees astride her hips.

Barbara settled back against the headboard. Her slip had fallen open and the swell of her breasts was just visible.

You glanced over at her.

“Touch yourself,” you sighed, rocking back and forth on Melissa’s hand, which was still busy between your legs.

Without hesitation, Barbara’s hand went to her chest, tracing patterns around her breasts and then massaging the aching flesh there.

“Wanna see,” you whined, and she let the silk fall open.

“Fuck,” Melissa croaked from her place beneath you, eyes glued to the sight of Barbara bared before her. “You’re so beautiful.”

Barbara felt heat rising to her cheeks, but she didn’t stop her ministrations. She caught her nipple between her fingers and pinched, moaning a little at the pain. The heat from your gaze and Melissa’s spurred her on, emboldening her. And her hand began sliding down, dipping between her legs. The mess she found there made her gasp.

“Keep touching,” you said. “I want to make you both fall apart.”

Then you returned your attention to the wild animal pinned beneath you. Melissa looked up, cocky somehow even though the tables had turned. She kept working her wrist back and forth along your slit.

“I’m so close,” you whispered.

“I know,” Melissa purred, reaching with her other hand to wipe the tears stains from your cheeks. The gesture was tender, careful.

Then she placed her palm against your chest, lightly bracing. You leaned forward into her touch, letting your weight rest against her as you lifted your hips and snaked your own hand down across her belly, between her legs, slipping into her underwear at last and finding slick heat.

The feel of her was electrifying, sending a fresh shot of arousal through you. She hissed in pleasure as your greedy fingers explored her. After a few moments, you matched your rhythm to hers, rocking in time with her strokes.

“Are you going to ruin your underwear for me, Ms. Schemmenti?” You asked, voice breaking a little as she picked up her speed, urging you closer.

“Fuck,” Melissa said, wide eyes searching your face with sudden desperation. Like she couldn’t believe how turned on she was. “Gonna make such a mess for you, kitten.”

Barbara groaned. Her head tipped back, exposing the smooth column of her throat. You turned toward her. Melissa followed suit.

“Can we?” You asked. “Please?”

Barbara smiled. You watched the movement of her own hand, half-obscured by the blankets, transfixed.

“Not yet,” she said.

Melissa made a broken noise. But one warning look from Barbara and she fell silent, struck by the domineering expression.

And so you both watched the other woman hungrily, like dogs waiting for scraps from a banquet table.

Barbara brought her free hand up, hooking her elbow and draping her forearm over her head in a posture of exaggerated leisure. Like she had all the time in the world. Her skin, slick with a light sheen of perspiration, gleamed in the golden lamplight. She was otherworldly like this, giving into her desires, but still somehow in control.

“Hold it for me,” she instructed imperiously, voice only wavering a little as her own pleasure built like a steady wave. “Only come when I say.”

You wondered if Barbara understood just how sexy it was, hearing her talk like that. The low authoritative rasp. The look of warning in her dark eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” you moaned, even as Melissa circled your aching clit faster, applying more pressure. She was actually trying to get you to break the rules. “We’ll be good.”

“Speak for yourself,” Melissa grunted, her eyes glassy. But then she tensed, clearly working hard to hold her own orgasm at bay.

Trying to obey, even though it wasn’t in her nature.

Barbara huffed a dark laugh. “Melissa Schemmenti, you will behave.”

And then you realized Barbara Howard knew exactly what she was doing.

Melissa’s eyes rolled back in her head, and you felt her clit twitch. “Fuck, Barb, you can’t say things like that.”

Barbara smirked.

“If you want something, you just have to ask,” she said, seeing Melissa in a rare state of submission and pressing her advantage.

Melissa swallowed.

“Please,” she said, voice rough with impatience and desire.

Barbara rolled her eyes, then looked at you.

“I’ve heard her be more polite to plumbers,” she chided, dipping her fingers into herself, feeling her walls clench at the look on your face.

Your cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and your mascara was smeared from crying. Melissa’s hand was moving beneath your skirt, and she could hear the slick sound of your need. An audible wetness that was both obscene and divine. You were both a vision of abject hunger, and it was all for her, for the words that could fall from her lips at any moment.

And then her reprimand softened.

“Ask me again, my sweet girl,” she said, licking her lips, feeling her own pleasure reach new heights. She could only hold on from so much longer. “Nicely.”

You reached down with your free hand, gripping the soft swell of Melissa’s breast, playing with her nipple, coaxing her to comply.

“Please, Mel,” you said. “Need it, need it so bad.”

She looked at you. Then she looked at Barbara. And her inhibitions fell away. Her face opened up like a flower turning toward sunlight, like a prayer.

“Please, Mrs. Howard,” she rasped, voice cracking with need. “Please, let us come for you. Let us be your sweet girls. We can be so good, just let us show you.”

Barbara groaned. And finally, her own pleasure impossible to hold at bay, she gave you both permission to come.

“Now.”

You felt Melissa tremble, then everything went hazy and white again. You clenched around her fingers, and felt the other woman do the same. Then you were both grinding into each other, your movements wild and desperate.

You gripped her closer, sinking your teeth into the flesh of her shoulder. She hissed, but didn’t pull away.

“Oh my god,” Melissa groaned, muscles tensing. And then you could feel her spilling, hot and warm against your hand.

And Barbara watched everything unfold, like a scene plucked straight from her fantasies. Except it was better than she could have ever imagined. Because it was real and messy. Because it was so wrong and so right. Because it was in her control and out of her control at the same time. She shuddered, caught in the slipstream of physical ecstasy, and tried to commit this image to memory.

Melissa, soft and pliant at her feet.

You, draped across the redhead, breathing hard.

“My good girls,” she breathed, aftershocks still rattling through her body. “So good for me.”

————-

Perhaps another quarter of an hour went by like that. The three of you piled in the bed, drifting on your separate clouds of pleasure, but still together. Touching. Kissing.

Melissa drew lazy circles on your back. The sound of her heartbeat was steady and comforting.

You finally picked your head up from her chest.

She smirked, glancing at her shoulder. “Didn’t realize you were a vampire, rookie.”

“Sorry about that,” you said, tracing your finger over the pink outline left where you had bitten her.

She shivered, swayed forward like she might kiss you again. Then seemed to think better of it.

“Come on,” she said, tilting her head toward the door that led to your room. “It’s past your bedtime. I’ll walk ya home.”

“Wow,” you said, only half-joking. “You really are the love-‘em-and-leave-‘em type.”

Melissa brushed an affectionate finger down the side of your face, gripping your chin.

“We got an early morning,” she said. “It’s for your own good.”

Then she shifted from beneath you and stood up, offering her hand. But you didn’t move. Instead, you glared at the offending appendage, snuggling further down in the covers.

“Wanna stay,” you said, petulance dripping from every syllable, looking to Barbara for support. “Please?”

Melissa glanced at Barbara too, seeming to ask permission.

“A sleepover, huh?” She said. “That ain’t protocol, strictly speaking. What do you think, Barb?”

Barbara glanced at you, sprawled across the bed. She couldn’t resist those puppy-dog eyes. So she just opened her arms.

It was all the invitation you needed. Clambering up the bed, you tucked yourself in snugly against her side. She placed a soft kiss against your head.

Melissa deliberated, watching you both for a moment. Then she fell back into the bed with a groan.

“Fine,” she said, crawling across the covers and bracketing herself in behind you. “But if you snore, you’re out on your ass, kid.”

Barbara swatted her friend before curling her arm protectively around your shoulders.

“Melissa,” she said. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“What?” The other woman groused, burrowing her face against your back and gripping your hips possessively, as if she hadn’t just tried to kick you out two minutes ago. “I need my beauty sleep.”

You smiled. Your eyes were drifting shut already. The warmth from both women was so nice, and you felt your limbs getting heavy. But the next words out of Melissa’s mouth made your ears perk up.

“Thought you had a rule against sleepovers, Barb.”

Barbara seemed to deliberate for a moment, shifting you gently in her arms.

“I did,” she said slowly, settling back against the pillows and reaching for the lamp. The lights clicked out, plunging everything into darkness.

“But some rules are made to be broken.”

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