5 comments/ 22954 views/ 6 favorites The Girl I Didn't Know By: angstypleasure The evening had not been the triumphant celebration of my friend Alexi's book deal that I'd hoped. Or rather, it had, but somewhere along the way the party left me behind. Alex usually relished her role of "wingman," almost to a fault. But tonight, understandably, she was too busy basking in the accolades to worry about whether I was going home alone tonight. And from all the attention she was getting, it looked like she was going to be too busy later for there to be any chance of our consoling one another, as occasionally happened. I was at the "one beer too many" stage when I saw Alex from halfway across the room. She pushed the corners of her lips up with her fingers in the universal "smile!" gesture. Then stuck her tongue out at me. I had to laugh at that, but all the same it made me think the best thing for me to do was to wade through the room one more time, congratulate Alex, kiss her on the cheek, and go home to see what was on Cinemax later. I was almost there, and waiting in line behind some blowhard talking about how Alex should have negotiated harder, when a tall, thin woman in a silk dress put her hand on my arm. It startled me a little, and I turned her way. "I'm sorry to bother you, but aren't you a professor at George Mason?" she asked. "Uh, sorry, no..." I could see the blowhard running out of air, especially since Alex was taking it out of him at every turn. People wonder why I don't go for more than just friendship with a hottie like Alex - the truth is she scares the hell out of me. The woman turned to leave. "Sorry to bother you, then." I got a bit better look at her, and as I did this a short woman who shouldn't have been wearing anything strapless snuck in behind the blowhard to talk to Alex. The woman who thought I was at George Mason, on the other hand, was trim, curvy, and wearing a green dress that matched her eyes and set off her curly blonde hair. Wearing glasses, like about 90 percent of us in the room, but hers were expensive-looking ones that set off those lovely green eyes. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that." I said. "I don't teach at George Mason, but I used to teach at Loyola. I gave it all up and started writing full-time a few years ago. Maybe you've seen me at book events?" She was beginning to look familiar to me too. "Maybe..." she said doubtfully. "Hang on," I said, putting my hand on her arm. "I'm trying to speak to Alex here. She's a friend of mine. Would you like me to introduce you?" "Sure." Mercifully, the short woman's fawning didn't last long, and I was able to get Alex's attention. I used this excuse to take the woman by the hand. "This is Alexi Morgan, a friend and writing buddy of mine who, I'm proud to say, has just signed the book deal of the century," I said, kissing Alex on the cheek. "Hi," the woman said. I was hoping she would say her name at this point, since I obviously didn't have a clue, but she didn't. "Good luck with your book!" "Thank you!" Alex said. "Does your friend have a name?" she asked me in a stage whisper. "Well, we just met. Or rather, we're both trying to place each other." I said to the woman: "Sorry, help me out here." "It's Tabitha. Tabitha Wilson. My friends call me Tabby." "Meoww," Alex said. She may have had one too many of those fruity drinks that kept circling by. "Well, has my memory-impaired friend introduced himself, at least?" "We were working on some theories just now," Tabitha said, "but nothing's clicking." "Sorry. I'm Gordon Wainwright." "That's it. I've placed you now." "Really?" "Commissioner Gordon. Hangs around with Batman." "Oh-key," Alex said, and disappeared. "Ha ha. No," I said, wishing I had gotten to talk with Alex a bit more, and trying not to roll my eyes. "Wait - did you ever go to the library at Loyola? I worked there some when I was teaching." "No, I pretty much stuck to the one at George Mason. Ours was better." "Thanks." "Well, for my subjects." "Okay, Tabitha, we've gotten as far as our names, anyway. Want to go somewhere and figure out where we might know each other from? It's too noisy in here to think." Which was a line, but had the added virtue of being true. "Have you had dinner?" We left the art gallery which was hosting the party and walked down a few blocks towards a Lebanese place I knew. "Do you live around here?" I asked. "Just a few blocks west," she said. "Me too. Maybe I've seen you in the neighborhood?" "Doubt it. I'm always gone, and I bet I haven't taken two walks in the neighborhood since I got here." "Oh." I said this rather flatly, because not only was that another dead end, but I had caught sight of the large numbers of people waiting outside the restaurant as we walked up. "Oh," she said in the same tone of voice. "Do you like Chinese?" "Yes, but I haven't found a Chinese restaurant around here I like." "Me neither. I was going to suggest that I cook us something. I actually own my own wok." "You own your own wok?" "My own wok." We stopped by a little grocery store for some noodles and some plum wine, then walked over to her apartment building. "I know this place!" I said as we walked up the steps. "Really?" she asked. "Maybe you've seen me here then?" "How long have you lived here?" "About six months." "Nope, I wouldn't have. I haven't been here since..." I trailed off. "Since when?" she smiled, not wanting to let me off the hook. "My girlfriend who lived here broke up with me." "Ah," she said, a little uncertainly. She let us in and we put down the groceries. "What can I do to help?" I said, trying not to seem like a man whose girlfriend breaks up with him for being unhelpful, anyway. "Just open the wine and help me figure out where I know you from," she said. "I'm just making a simple noodle dish. Won't take a second." "What's it called?" "Longevity noodles. The glasses are over there, thanks. So maybe I know you from your books. Have I seen your books at the bookstore?" "If you mean Borders or Barnes and Noble, not likely. I write History. I've been collaborating on a textbook for the past year." "So much for that." "Sorry," I grinned, handing her a glass of wine. "So what do you do?" "Well, I don't normally admit this on the first date, but I'm kind of a trust fund baby and professional student. Come to think of it, I don't usually admit that to myself..." she muttered. "Nothing wrong with that. We Americans are too obsessed with earning a living." I trailed off into one of my monologues about the historical trend toward identifying oneself with one's profession before remembering that it had cost me at least one second date, and a couple of thirds. "So what's your major? Anything to do with history?" "Kind of." "That's probably it! Until this year, I used to go all over town lecturing on early 20th century history - the Great War" "I'm focusing on history of textile design. My dream is to be a furniture designer." "Oh," I said, noticing the covering on the sofa I'd been sitting on. "Well, this covering is nice. I like the colors in this weave. Your design?" "No, got it at T.J. Maxx," she said in a near-menacing tone. But when I looked up at her she was smiling at me. She sat down beside me on the couch. "It's ready." "Okay, one more thing. Take off your glasses." "You don't like my glasses?" "I love your glasses. But maybe seeing you without them will jar something loose." "Oh, really?" she said, coyly. She held her face up to me, and I gently took her glasses off. "Nope," I said, kissing her. "I don't think I've ever seen you before in my life." She kissed back. "I'm still not giving up. I've seen you somewhere. Let's eat." "Delicious. Thank you," I said, as I got up and started moving the dishes over to the sink. She got up with me and we loaded the two dishes and forks into the dishwasher. "Let's go back to the couch. I'm going to figure it out. What vet do you use?" she asked. I had briefly seen a cat before he or she scampered off for parts unknown. "No pets." I sat down, and she settled back against me. "Where do you shop for groceries, usually?" "Kroger." "Eh. Publix, here," she sighed as I started massaging her shoulders through the thin material of her dress. "Religion?" "Catholic. St. John's," she said, undoing some buttons and letting the dress off her shoulders, revealing a black bra. "Episcopalian, myself, when I go," I said, rubbing bare skin now. "Oh, sweet lord," she said, pushing back against the palms of my hands. Her dress was around her waist, and I was working on the clasp on her bra. It came loose, and she held it up against her breasts as she turned around to face me. "Do you play tennis?" she asked, the bra still clutched against her as she started to unbutton my shirt. "I'm afraid not," I said, undoing my cuffs and pulling her bra away. Her breasts swayed against my bare chest. "Me neither," she moaned as I began to suck on one of her erect pink nipples. "You're starting to confuse me. I'll never figure it out." "You're kind of confusing me too," I admitted, pulling up her skirt to reveal silk stockings and black silk panties. I caressed her bottom as she began taking my belt and trousers off. "Maybe if we go lie down," she offered. She didn't have to ask twice. We shed clothing during the short walk to her bedroom. I was totally naked; she was down to her lacy thigh-high stockings and glasses. I got under the covers with her and ran my hands down her flat stomach. Finding a wonderfully smooth, slick slit between her legs, I began to greedily explore with my hand as she cupped my balls and cock. When I was almost ready to explode from the attention, I crawled down and began to lap at her juices. She put her silk-clad legs over my back and began to rock her way to an orgasm. My tongue swirled over her clit and disappeared into her opening, then around her lips. She had a slight salt tang, and it was divine. She started to come, and nearly suffocated me as she drove my head down with her legs and hands. When we came up for air, she sighed contentedly. "Well, Gordon, whoever you are, you can call me Tabby now." "Okay, Tabby. I just hope you weren't one of my students, but we've already covered that idea, and maybe the statute of limitations has run out anyway," I panted. "Oh, dear, I haven't worn you out, have I? Just lie back," she instructed, and got on top of me. I went in slowly; she was wet and open, but squeezing me with her tight, toned pussy muscles every inch of the way. "Mmmm, so good," she lay down on top of me and moaned in my ear. "It's been so long." I started nippling and sucking on her nipples, taking each one in turn, back and forth. She began to moan, and ride me faster and faster. "ooHH, fuck - OH!" she cried, and convulsed in wave after wave. When she recovered, she picked up my cock, miraculously still erect. "Still haven't come, Gordon? Relax, sweetie," she said, and began to suck on it like an artist. Her tongue swirled around the head as she picked up speed. I tried to warn her I was coming, and she muttered "I know," around my pulsing cock as she swallowed my come. She gave me a lingering kiss on the lips and went off to the kitchen for some water. Returning with glasses of ice water for both of us, she handed me one and said "I've got good news and bad news." "What's the good news?" "I've finally placed you." "Where?" "That's the bad news. I saw you at our last family reunion in Virginia." When I got back to my apartment Alex was sitting on my couch in my bathrobe, her dark hair wet, drinking Merlot. "Didn't expect to see you here," I said, slowly. "I wasn't sure I'd see you here, either. I just needed to get away from an admirer I couldn't shake, and I was too close to being drunk to drive to my place. You don't mind?" "No problem." I sank down on the couch and put my head in her lap. She began to stroke my hair. "So how did you make out with the blonde? Did you ever place her?" "She finally remembered. We're second cousins." "And when did you figure this out?" she asked, laughing before I could even open my mouth. "Too late, from the looks of you. So I guess that's a dead end?" "I'm thinking it over," I mused. "Straight girls are so hard to find in this neighborhood." The Girl I Didn't Know Ch. 02 When I got back to my apartment Alex was sitting on my couch in my bathrobe, her dark hair wet, drinking Merlot. "Didn't expect to see you here," I said, slowly. "I wasn't sure I'd see you here, either. I just needed to get away from an admirer I couldn't shake, and I was too close to being drunk to drive to my place. You don't mind?" "No problem." I sank down on the couch and put my head in her lap. She began to stroke my hair. "So how did you make out with the blonde? Did you ever place her?" "She finally remembered. We're second cousins." "And when did you figure this out?" she asked, laughing before I could even open my mouth. "Too late, from the looks of you. So I guess that's a dead end?" "I'm thinking it over," I mused. "Straight girls are so hard to find in this neighborhood." Alex cuffed me on the ear lightly. I sat up. "What?" I asked in a mock-indignant tone. "You're the one sleeping with your relatives. I wouldn't talk about kinks." "I didn't know at the time. And I didn't stay to sleep with her." "Yeah, what's up with that?" she asked, smiling and putting her hand on my cheek. "She said she had to get up early. I did say I'd call her. I think we're good." "Men," she said, putting her arms around me from the side and sucking on my earlobe. "Well, how was sex with your cousin?" "Second cousin. Mmmm, better stop that unless you want to be a straight girl tonight," I said. She kept doing it. "Well, we were on the couch and one thing led to another..." "That's how these stories always start," she said, undoing a couple of buttons on my shirt and rubbing my chest. "Proceed." "Before I knew it I had her dress half off and I'd lost my shirt," I said. "I sucked on her nipples awhile and we ended up in bed." "Funny how that happens. Good start, though. Closest way to a girl's heart is through her nipples, I always say." "Especially the left one. Anyway, we got naked and got into bed and we started feeling each other up. She had a completely smooth pussy. She must have it waxed." "Turn around," Alex interrupted. We rearranged ourselves so that I was sitting sideways on the couch and she was backed up to me. I could just see one nipple and half of another of her gorgeous breasts. She took my hand and pulled it between her legs. The robe gaped open. "Hello. When did you have that done?" "Last week. It's been more than a month since you've seen it, you know. Anyway, you were rubbing her bare pussy." "She was playing with my balls and I didn't want to just come right away, so I went down south." "That's the second expression you've used tonight I don't really care for, but keep going. Oh, keep going with that, too," she moaned. I stopped. "What was the other one?" "'Feeling up.' I first heard it as a little girl, watching a George Carlin routine. I didn't know what it meant. It always makes me think of George Carlin. Oh, keep going, you bastard," she growled, bucking against my hand. "So I began to deliver oral stimulation to her clitoral and vaginal regions," I continued, archly. "And she must have liked it because she started wrapping her legs around me and wouldn't let me come up for air. I think she came then. She kept her stockings on." "She kept her stockings on? That slut. Yes, you think she became aroused to the point of climax. I can see how that would happen. Then what? Did she give you a turn?" she asked, squirming her buttocks against my trousers. "Oh yeah. She got on top of me and then we went at it. She squeezed me with her tight, slippery cunt," I said, reaching around to play with one of Alex's breasts. "Oh, God, I love it when they do that," Alex sighed. She leaned back and started planting kisses on my neck. "So then you came like a volcano?" "No, she came like a volcano." "And then you flipped her over and rode her like a bronco until you came like a volcano?" "No, she gave me the blow job of a lifetime. And swallowed, I think." "Why do men care if we swallow? Anyway, what did she do right after that?" "She got us some ice water and told me she saw me at our family reunion." "She didn't swallow. She spit it up in the kitchen sink while she was running the water." Alex got up and tightened her robe. My robe, actually. "Great story. Well, I'm beat. Can I borrow your guest bed?" "Sure," I said, sitting on the couch where she left me and kind of staring off into space. She got most of the way down the hall and came back to look over the couch at me. I was still staring into space. "You're not much for taking charge of a situation, are you?" she asked. "Eh?" "Well, you gave cousin Tabby a two-for-one back there, I've been blue-balling you while you told me a story I'll be masturbating to for weeks, and you're going to bed alone? You need to ride someone like a bronco tonight, even if it has to be me." I reached up for her and we kissed. "I love you," I said. "I know. Well, the train leaves the station in two minutes. Be on it." "My bedroom," I grunted. "That's more like it." I went back to my bedroom. It was dim, and Alex was already naked and under the covers playing with herself. I got undressed, got in beside her and began to play with her breasts again. I took a nipple into my mouth and started sucking on it. She put an arm under me and pushed me to get on top of her. "I'm more than ready, Gordon, lover. This is for you; use me. Fuck me as hard as you want." She took my cock in her hand and stroked herself with it. When the head was slippery, I pushed it in all the way smoothly but quickly. Her eyes opened wide. It felt fantastic as my balls brushed up against her smooth body. I picked up speed quickly. She lay back and moaned like she was in pain. Some little part of my brain I couldn't quite turn off knew she was just acting, enjoying getting me off, and probably not even all that aroused, and for some reason that made me even hotter. I wanted to get off quickly; I had had enough teasing and subtlety for the night. I got to that wonderful, frustrating plateau. I had just come an hour or so ago; I was a little tired and the alcohol wasn't helping. I was rock-hard and my balls were starting to ache. Alex reached up and took them in her hands, which sometimes triggers me right away, but in this case not quite. After a while she put her hands on my ass. "Fuck me harder, Daddy," she said in a little girl voice in my ear. I started pounding her harder and faster. "Fuck me harder, Daddy," she said. "Ohhh! Fuck ME! Fuck ME! FUCK me!" she began to moan. I spasmed all over and came inside her, kissing her and feeling her moans on my cheek. I tried to look at her: I wanted to know if she was coming, but my eyes wouldn't focus for a few seconds. I stayed in her for a moment. Soon I would go soft and we'd have to start grabbing for the tissues by the bed or have a big wet spot. I squirmed around and we relaxed and embraced. "Thank you," I whispered in her ear. "You're welcome. I loved it, too." We got cleaned up after a fashion. I put my briefs back on; she found a pair of my boxers and an old Nike t-shirt and put them on. We snuggled back up under the covers. I stroked the cleft between her breasts absently. Within seconds it seemed I could hear her breathing slow and she relaxed against me. A few more seconds and I was asleep too. The Girl I Didn't Know Ch. 03 a continuation of "The Girl I Didn't Know" Parts 1 and 2, but reading them is not essential to any of the intricate plot points. :-) "Gordon, didn't you say you would give your cousin Tabby a call?" "Second cousin. And we could just call her Tabby, I suppose. Yes, I did say I'd call her, but I didn't say when." Alexi and I were sitting at a sidewalk table, at a coffee shop a few blocks from my apartment. It was the proverbial morning after. I was feeling a little hung over, but at least we had gotten to sleep late, and the day was ours. We were both writers. Alex had just celebrated the signing of a deal for her latest novel: a historical romance involving female motorcyclists of the early 20th century. She was taking a few days off before going into the final revision phase. I was working on a textbook, and the guys I was collaborating with were mostly out of the country right now. True, I was supposed to be researching ball bearing manufacturing in Nazi Germany in the late '30s, but as long as I got it done before they got back, life was good. And now Alex wanted me to call my second cousin, Tabitha, whom I had unwittingly had sex with the night before. Well, the sex wasn't unwitting, but I didn't know she was my second cousin at the time. Still I had promised to call her; maybe we should just have a friendly lunch and kind of talk over how we should possibly agree not to sleep with each other? Alex's hair was done up loosely in the back, the better to show off her long, white neck and toned shoulders. The tight top and shorts she was wearing showed off the rest. This made me think about my track record with keeping out of sexual relationships with female friends. Alex and I met when she called me for help with her research about female motorcyclists in the early 20th century. I was an assistant professor at Loyola then, but she had encouraged me to get into writing. So far it's been college textbooks, but I might have a novel in me, especially if I keep hanging around with Alex. I rarely get into bed with her, but last night I had, and the way she was dressed today made me want to nibble on that neck again, and suck on those... "Gordon?" she asked, looking at me over her sunglasses and smiling. "What do you think?" "I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you said." "That's because I'm up here, buddy," she said, pointing at her face. "Not down here," she said, looking around quickly and then making her breasts jiggle with her hands. Mesmerizing. "Why do women always catch us looking?" I said, laughing, but blushing a little. "This isn't some superpower we have; men are just obvious," she laughed, taking off her sunglasses and leering at my chest, then my crotch. "Anyway, what I said was: give Tabby a call and see if she wants to go to dinner with us tonight. Maybe a museum before and a drink at your place later. It might make it seem like less of a date, if that's what you're worried about." I picked up my cell phone, opened it, and held it to my face without dialing. "Hello? Tabby? Hi, it's Gordon. You slept with me last night, and now I'd like to cool things off a bit by introducing you to the other woman I slept with last night." "She won't mind. I mean, don't approach the subject like that, but she won't mind if you tell her I'm coming along." "How can you be so sure?" "From the way she was looking at me last night. Sometimes women are obvious, too. You're lucky you're my wingman, buddy. And that it was my party and I was trapped by a horde of well-wishers." "Oh, so that's what it's all about," I laughed. "Okay, but remember this the next time you're in some club with me and you need me to look like your boyfriend because the Hell's Angels guy is coming this way." I made the call, and sure enough Tabby wanted to meet us. We decided to meet up at the Smithsonian's American Art Museum late that afternoon. Alex was wearing something more conservative: a blouse, blazer, and dress slacks. Tabby was wearing a low-cut blouse and a skirt which was shorter than the dress she wore last night. The security guard eyed her carefully as we went through the turnstiles, but I don't think it was because of her potential threat to national security. "Hi!" Tabby exclaimed. "I'm so glad Gordon called - I didn't get much of a chance to talk to you last night. I'm a big fan!" One of the things I appreciate about Alex is that she handles the gushing fan routine rather well. But then, she's had practice. Authors don't get mobbed in public like rock stars, but we've had many an outing interrupted by someone who placed her from her book jacket photo. "Really?" Alex asked. "What's your favorite book of mine?" "Wondrous Worlds. I loved how you reinterpreted the story of Wonder Woman as a Greek tragedy." "Oh, golly, my second book. Yeah, it wasn't too hard, given that the comic book character was a rip-off of Athena in the first place, with a dash of the Amazonian legends thrown in. My publisher kind of made me do that one. But it was fun," Alex quickly added, as Tabby's face reddened a bit. "I liked it too, Alex," I chipped in. I was walking down the corridor behind them, already feeling a bit like a fifth wheel. Tabby looked back as if my comment had reminded her I was still in the room. She dropped back and put her arm in mine. "Okay, well, I liked your last book, too, Alexi. About the motorcyclists." "I helped Alex research that one. It's how we met," I said proudly. "Yeah, I have to admit Gordon helped a lot with it," Alex said, putting a hand on my shoulder briefly. About then we came in sight of another security guard, who smiled at me. I smiled back. After about an hour at the museum, with the girls doing most of the talking, we got a cab over to the Lebanese restaurant Tabby and I had tried to get into last night. This time it wasn't too busy, and we were soon seated. We ate Tabouleh salads and awaited a Mazza dish as we talked about school and writing. "You know," Alex said, sipping a martini, "Tabby might be able to help me to write something I've always thought about, but never known enough to write on - the textile industry in the 1800s and 1900s. You know, Triangle Shirtwaist fire, all that sort of thing. Not the incident itself, but something based on it." "I'd love that!" Tabby said. "I could probably help you with some of the industrial side of it. I seem to get mainly stuck doing military stuff, but I've read up on that side of things," I added. "Well, success to crime, then," Alex said, and we all tipped our glasses at each other. By the time we got back to my apartment, it was getting pretty late. I half expected it to be a perfunctory glass of wine and then everyone taking off. But Tabby made some reference  about a point in Wondrous Worlds, and she and Alex got into a friendly argument about a point in the book. "Gordo, you got a copy of it here? You admitted you liked it. You keep it stashed under your pillow?" Alex snorted. "It's in my office, on the bookshelf," I said primly. "Okay," Tabby said. "Now we'll see who's right. I'll bet you anything that you killed the Telemachus-like character off in Book I, not Book II." "Really?" Alex said as they went down the hall. I turned on the TV; this debate was probably going to take a while. I started watching the evening news and must have dozed, because Jay Leno was doing his monologue when I realized that I couldn't hear either of them talking. Had they left? I discovered they had not when I walked down the hallway and got as far as the guest bedroom. They were naked and in a 69 position on my bed, having peeled the bedspread, and their clothes, off at some point. The sounds, sights and faint odor of sex were collectively pretty overwhelming, and I just stood back at the doorway, not sure what to say yet. Both were moaning and exploring each other's perfectly smooth, hairless pussies with their tongues. Tabby was on top. "I was wrong," she admitted to me, when she looked up. "Back to work, Tabby," Alex growled. "Yes, master," she giggled, and happily resumed tonguing Alex's pussy, which was wet with her juices and Tabby's saliva. My last totally lucid thought, and even this one is suspect, is that Tabby's naked, sweaty back needed rubbing. Her muscles looked like they were tightening up from all the swiveling and bucking of her hips. I lurched over to take care of this, and decided that I didn't want my shirt and pants to become stained with all the fluids that were covering their bodies, so I stripped to my underwear before joining them on the bed. I kneeled behind Tabby's ass and began to lightly rub her buttocks and lower back. Soon I felt a hand rubbing my balls through my underwear, and then my cock was being pulled out. Then I felt a mouth enveloping my cock, and I began to rub Tabby's back hard, my cock moving in and out of the waiting mouth as I moved my hands up and down on her back. "Ahhh," she said. "That feels divine. But I don't feel anything on my pussy anymore." Just then I felt a hand on my cock, which was directing it in lazy circles around something wet, and warm, and slick. "Ohhh, now I do." I began to push forward slightly, and Tabby tensed slightly. "Oh, cousin, is that you?" I stopped. "Do you want it?" "Oh, yeah. Don't stop now." I slid into her tight pussy, and we settled into a slow rhythm. Alex put her hands in my underwear and began to rub my balls. "I'm not going to last like this; I'm going to come," I grunted. "Come in meee," Tabby moaned as she arched her buttocks back at me, pushing me even farther in. I wanted to start thrusting hard, but I didn't want to hurt Alex, so I gripped Tabby by the hips so hard she started to cry out, and then I was shooting into her. I thought it would never end. And then I managed to roll off without hitting Alex in the face, and just lay there for a moment. My semen was drooling out of Tabby's slit, and Alex was lapping it up. I was taking my underwear off when they both came furiously, thrashing around and moaning. They lay down side by side, and I crawled up between them. They were panting, exhausted, and my cock wasn't going to be doing anything for the next few minutes, despite the fact that they both put hands on my legs and started rubbing inside my thighs and on my balls. "Never debate a book with its author, Tabby," Alex said contentedly as I started to draw lazy circles on Alex's breasts. "Well, I was confused because the Telemachus clone wasn't supposed to be alive by that part of the story." "This afternoon you were my biggest fan, and now you're telling me I don't know how to write?" Alex laughed, and reached over to swat at Tabby. Tabby reached back over my crotch to slap Alex on the ass. "No, I think you just had a thing for Telemachus." The girls began to playfully fight with each other, with me in the middle. I put my hands over my crotch defensively, and Tabby giggled. "I think he's a lover, not a fighter." "He is that," Alex agreed, kissing me on the lips. "Well, I guess it's your turn with him," Tabby said. She sat up and pulled my hand away and replaced it with hers. "I think he's almost ready again." "You can have him again. My pussy is a little sore from last night." Tabby looked at her and then me. "You? After you left me?" she laughed nervously. I looked at her, hoping she wasn't going to get angry. She still had her hand on my balls. Alex sat up and started kissing Tabby, starting with her mouth and working her way down. "I came back here after the party to get away from some man. Gordon didn't know I was going to be here. But he started telling me about what it was like with you. You were so fucking hot," she said. Thank you, Alex, I thought as Tabby straddled me and started rubbing on my cock with her pussy. Alex, meanwhile, positioned her pussy on my face. "Gentle, Gordon," she said. "Not like last night. Tabby, you should have seen us. You got him so worked up, and I was so hot after he told me about it, that I let him get on top of me and just - start pounding my poor pussy. Oh, god, I came three times," she said. I heard kissing sounds, and I could feel Alex's hand near my groin as she began to work a finger into Tabby's dripping slit. Tabby was balancing herself by putting her hands on Alex's breasts, from the feel of things and the moans Alex began to make. Nothing makes Alex more vocal than playing with her breasts. I didn't know how much truth there was to her pussy being sore, but I played it safe and gently licked it. She ground down on my face slowly, and I pushed my tongue in her as far as it would go. I was hearing more kissing and sucking sounds upstairs, and Tabby was rocking me into her dripping pussy. We began to go at it again, slowly. Alex was pleasuring herself with my tongue, and Tabby was milking my cock with her hot, tight pussy. There were hands on my chest and hips. My hands were on Tabby's thighs. I began to lose track of who was doing what to who as we picked up the pace, and I couldn't see anything anyway. The last thing I remember was shooting into Tabby's pussy as she slowed down and her legs shook. "Damn girl, you made him pass out," I could hear Alex saying when I came to. "I think it was lack of oxygen, actually," Tabby said. They were cuddling with each other, and Tabby's back was to me. "Anyone ready for a shower?" I asked. "Sorry, my shower's not big enough for three, but ladies first." "We'll let you go first," Tabby said. "We may use up all your hot water."