0 comments/ 35161 views/ 0 favorites Getting Yana Laid By: taleserotic Getting Yana Laid September, November, December, the second year Early September "We should get Yana laid," I said. The three of us had just finished dinner, and our guest was in the dining room. I handed Tom the dish I had just washed. "I think Yana can probably get laid if she wants to," he answered, taking the dish and wiping it dry. "She's gorgeous." I snorted. Not my best trait, but effective at times. "You know she has a hard time socially. She's so blunt and honest. Between that and being so smart and so stunningly attractive, guys don't know what to do with her. She needs a nice guy who can deal with her." Tom began unbuttoning his jeans. "Alright." I laughed and swatted him with a damp dish cloth. "I'm serious." "So am I," he said, turning to look into the dining room where Yana was doing her homework. I nudged up against him, sliding my arm around his waist as we looked at my best friend. Her brown hair fell down over her left shoulder as she leaned into her textbook. She looked so cute. Fanned around her on the table were papers and various calculators. Pushing Tom back to the sink, I handed him another plate to get him back on track. "She never meets any nice guys," I went on. "She goes on dates and just scares them. We should try to think of someone for her." "Doesn't she meet guys in class?" I rolled my eyes and called, "Yana, honey, are the math majors any threat?" "No," she answered, not even looking up from her work. "The theoretical physicists are the threat." I laughed and bumped Tom lovingly at the old joke we girls shared. He didn't get it, I didn't think. Yana and I had talked a lot about potentially suitable men for her in laughing, giddy conversations that didn't include him. She envied our relationship and was lonely and far from home. Dishes finished, Tom dried his hands and draped the towel on the rack. I came up on my toes to kiss him and he hugged me tight for a moment. Oooo la la. Pushing my shirt open, he fondled my breasts lovingly as we kissed. I murmured. As he moved into the other room, I wiped down the counter. I had fantasized about Tom making love with Yana any number of times. I am sure that a good therapist would explain that as projection because I actually wanted to make love with her myself. It wasn't going to happen, of course. Yana wasn't into girls. Still, I had fantasies of the two of them together because in those same fantasies I was with them, eventually. I could see he was going to be no help finding her a man. I finished up in the kitchen before joining them. I really did want to find her a boyfriend, but I wondered what such an entity would mean to my friendship with her. I wanted her to be happy. To be honest, I thought that a little sex would not hurt the girl. Moving to the doorway, I leaned against the frame and looked at her. She was rising from her work, stretching, the full curves of her breasts pulling the material of her shirt taut as she arched her back. Barefoot, she moved to the couch and sat down next to Tom and laid her head on his shoulder. I couldn't hear what they were saying from the kitchen, but I didn't need to. I just watched them, seeing how easy they were together. I always thought of her as my friend, but it was clear in that intimate little moment that Yana and Tom had a relationship too. He liked her, it was clear, and she was comfortable with him, with none of the awkwardness she experienced around so many others. Moving into the room with them, I sat in the chair opposite the couch and looked at them. They really were friends, weren't they? Yana was written a paper that was going to be published in a prestigious math journal and Tom was editing it with her. I asked him what the topic, but the best he could do was say it was a formula for determining concert ticket prices, so I knew he was lying and probably didn't understand it either. As she is only a first-semester sophomore, her being published is all the more impressive. I am not kidding when I say she is a genius. I wondered how much they liked each other. If I weren't around would they date? Tom was right, even if he had only been kidding. He would be good for her. "You two should be lovers," I said quietly. If I could not make love with her, Tom should. I knew he would be tender and caring with her. We'd shared other girls, he and I, why not share him with Yana, even if I wasn't included? We were hardly monogamous. Yana laughed, a light airy lilt of pure delight. "Gelly, I cannot sleep with Tom. He is far too old for me." Her eyes caught that my shirt was partly open though it hadn't been during dinner. I wondered if she guessed Tom had just been touching me. I wanted her to think he had. I scowled. If he was too old for her, he was too old for me and that was just not true. "You're just saying that so you won't hurt my feelings." Her blue eyes widened. "He is nearly 30! I am a teenager." "Thanks, Yana," Tom said in a tired voice. He is 28. He is 10 years older than she at that. And she told me early on she didn't like older men. It seemed false for Tom. They liked each other, and he wasn't that much older. Older was like, 40. She was making up objections, I felt. I know now that I was being selfish. By offering my best friend my lover, I still was anticipating getting her into my own bed. I was in love with her. I shuddered at that knowledge and my nipples crinkled and poked right through my shirt at her. I was in love with Yana. I lusted for her. I was desperate for her to be my partner, with Tom. Desperate enough to suggest this. She rose from the couch and returned to her homework, obviously not wanting to go on with the discussion. I moved over next to Tom, filling her place. He hugged me and slipped a hand into my shirt again. My nipple stiffened even more. Yana was only feet away, but the idea of her and Tom together made me bold. I let him fondle me, opening more of the buttons of my shirt. I was bare beneath it; my breasts free to his touch. The back of the couch hid us from her view, and I writhed and pressed my nipples to him. My fingers massaged Tom's cock through his jeans and the already half-hard shaft grew and swelled. I opened his pants so that the length of him was unbound, and the soft skin of his hard cock came into view. I sighed and ran my lips over that spongy head, massaging firmly. My tongue slipped out to run over and around him and I just had to take him in my mouth. My mind filled with the image of that cock, my lover's cock, going into Yana's cunt. I'd seen her cunt. She was beautiful. We'd met naked, modeling nude together. She still modeled for my camera. I knew her body so well. I sucked my boyfriend's cock with my best friend just on the other side of the couch, unknowing. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to see. To see her cock-sucking, pussy-licking best friend adoring her boyfriend with her mouth. I wanted her to get up, come around the couch, slip off her clothes and make love with us. She just kept doing math. One plus one plus one equals... Late November Rain crashed down in a sudden downpour that caught us walking along Main Street with no place to go into for shelter. Yana and I scurried to the cover of the doorway of a closed business. We cowered in the slight overhang to wait out the storm. She was pressed up tightly to me. There was little room to move, and her every undulation only brought her closer to me. I slipped my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly, and she laid her head back on my shoulder. My lips found her throat. Yana cooed and wriggled against me, stretching her neck to get me even more of her skin to kiss. Her hair smelled fresh and felt so soft on my cheek as I began to use my lips to tug at her, running my tongue lightly up from her shoulder to her ear, ever so lightly. I couldn't be doing this with Yana. She was my best friend and not... Not. Not. Not... Not like me. Holding her, kissing her, I felt that familiar heaviness settling in between my legs. It didn't help that Yana was pushing her wonderfully round bottom to me there. She wasn't like me. Still, there in that doorway in the rain, she was responding like a lover. Yes, we had flirted. Yes, she liked to feel me up in theatres when we went out to see movies. But that was the end of it. She had a boyfriend now. Some mysterious guy I was never allowed to meet who had encouraged her to shave off her pubic hair and introduced her to anal sex. I saw her naked, because she was my favorite model and posed for me for free because she was my best friend. I noticed her lack of hair right away. But the anal sex part I had learned because she asked me about it: Did I like it? Would she like it? Why did guys like it? I told her that, with her new hairless look and the interest in anal sex, she could be sleeping with my boyfriend, Tom. I have kept my pubic area bare, with Tom's encouragement, since taking up with him again almost a year ago. Our former girlfriend, Lindsay, had liked it too, and they delighted in paying for my salon visits to keep me hairless. And I just like anal. Tom first did that with me. Yana only laughed at the very idea when I mentioned the similarity between her boyfriend and Tom. A year earlier, I had embraced my attraction to other women. I'd then fallen in love with Tom and with Lindsay in the winter. We became three. Our love was hot and nasty and kinky and forbidden, and we did things together that left me fulfilled and drained and so blissfully in love that I was oblivious to anything else. We only lasted four months. I still was not over her. I learned too, after she left, that Lindsay had other lovers while we were together. I guess that was cheating. And I discovered in October that good old Tom cheats on me too. I suppose it was cheating. I'm not even talking about the women we've made love to together, some ten of them. Some other girl, without me. We're not monogamous. Still, it seemed like cheating. Tom likes having a girlfriend who brings other girls home to fuck. He just doesn't know about all of the others I see alone or the boys I have one-nighters with, preferably two or three at a time. I'm a cheater too, now. It is a very strange relationship. So much sex and so little communication. I know I should talk to him about how I feel. I talk to Yana. I talk to my mother. I just couldn't bring myself to talk to Tom because I was afraid. Maybe part of me was afraid because I liked being free to be so hedonistic, and being with Tom was my license. I love him. He is a great boyfriend in so many ways if you didn't count fidelity as anything too important. I liked being the girlfriend who brought other girls home to fuck. What if talking screwed it all up? And there I was kissing Yana passionately, loving her with my mouth. I already loved her, deeply, emotionally. She is my best friend. I didn't have to put my tongue in her pussy to love her. It didn't ever have to be physical if she didn't want it to be. The prospect of being lesbian scared her so, she couldn't even open to being bi. Yet, we were making out in a doorway in the rain. Her chest rose as she pressed her big boob into my hand. She wanted my touch. I toyed with her nipple through her bra, felt it rising with excitement and desire. Turning, her arms went around me and we faced one another, kissing hard. My hands were on her back, drawing her to me, hugging her, feeling her body laying on mine. "Gelly," she gasped finally. "I can not let you lick me today." I kissed her again. "It's okay, Yana. You don't have to lick me back. I'll just lick you, make love to you. It's okay. We both want to." I was hot and excited and in need. I could convince her, now, couldn't I? She broke the kiss again. "No, Gelly, I will lick with you. I do not care any longer that I am loving another woman. I love you. I want to do it." We were kissing, and I was confused. It wasn't just her accent. Her accent is so cute. She took my face in both of her hands. Her dark blue eyes looked tragic with sadness. "Gelly," she began, "you can not lick me this moment because I am having sex this morning while you are in class." I started opening the buttons of her shirt, eager to touch her skin, even outside in the cold like this. The mystery man. Fucking my darling while I was in class. What would our becoming lovers mean to that relationship? And what about Tom? Would the four of us get together? Thunder cracked, uncharacteristically for the season, as I opened her jeans and slipped my hand inside. The crotch of her panties was wet. Very wet. Suddenly, I understood. She didn't want me to lick her because he had come in her. She hadn't been home yet, hadn't bathed. He'd cum inside her. No condom. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist and lifted my fingers from her sex. I leaned against the frame of the door and swept a hand across my forehead to clear my face. I was breathing heavily too. She closed her shirt and tugged up her jeans. I straightened, knowing finally that she was entirely serious, that this whole thing was entirely serious. All the months of flirting and false starts and come-ons and dreams were serious. She said she loved me and I knew I was in love with her. A myriad of thoughts stormed through my mind as she wiped her eyes and turned away. "I love you, Gelly." But she ran away into the rain. Thanksgiving Break started the next day. I would not see here again for well over a week. Early December My body arched, every nerve firing. The sting was fiery and fierce, then the softened, as the wax ran. Finally, there was the tightening feeling as it cooled, tugging at the skin under it. I let out my breath in a shuddering sigh of delight. Oh, yes. This was fun. Blindfolded, I had no idea where the next drop would fall. Still, Tom is not cruel, just kinky. He loves me. My right nipple was coated in a little wax mountain, the flesh surrounding it dribbled with splotches of... red or blue, I was sure. We had learned, painfully on my part, which candles were the most fun. And that meant we were using the cinnamon apple or the blueberry jar. I inhaled, trying to catch the scent. Blueberry was much more subtle. Mmmm. I should have been paying more attention. The next drip startled me, and my body caved in on itself instead of rising. The soft yarn ropes around my wrists and ankles kept me at the center of our bed. The hot wax spattered on the bare skin just above my pussy. I had expected it on my left breast. The muscles of my pelvis contracted and I felt it lower down, where I was wet. Another drip landed on me, lower, the wax running down the outer lip of my pussy into the crease of my thigh. I moaned with the pleasure of the pain again. I was moaning so loudly that neither of us heard the knock at first. The ringing of the bell startled us. I raised my blind head, listening, and heard Tom set the candle on the nightstand. "They'll go away if we don't answer," Tom whispered and kissed me. I kissed back, at his mercy as to how and where our lips met, even with my head raised. He kissed me so sweetly, not rushing or hurrying, just kissing me like it was the only thing in the world he had to do. And it was. The knocking came again, louder. Tom took the tip of my left nipple between his lips, touching the tip of his tongue to it before opening his mouth and sucking me in. I am not so big on top, so he could cover a lot of my breast. His taut lips relaxed and slipped wetly over my skin until they caught my nipple again, pressing in tightly. I sighed happily again, loudly, and then cut it off short sharply. "Gelly? Tom? Are you home?" Yana's voice carried through the house from the now open front door. "Shit," I whimpered. Or something like that. I am not entirely sure. "Gelly," Yana called again. Yana. I had not seen her since that day in the rain. My messages were unreturned. Thanksgiving Break came and went. I worried she was avoiding me. I'd told Tom about it, how close we had come to making love, how she had a boyfriend now, that she had just fucked him that morning. "Get out there," I hissed at him. "Don't let her come in the bedroom." I heard Tom struggling into his pants. The bedroom door was open, if I remembered correctly. We never closed it. I just wished right then that we locked the front door when we were home. "Oh, hello, Tom," Yana's rich alto lilted through the house. Her accent is so much less incomprehensible than when we had first met, but I love that I am still "Gelly" to her. I like to think her improved diction is my influence, but it is probably more Tom's. They read together sometimes, and study, spending a lot of time together, actually. Tom is getting his masters in literature, and he plans to teach. "Hi, Yana." He sounded stiff. I wondered if he actually still was. Would his cock be tenting his pants for Yana to see? I hoped not. "Is Gelly here," she asked. "She's tied up at the moment." I slammed my head down on the pillow. That asshole. "So, she is not available." It still kind of sounded like she said, "Zoe, chee his snot havailable?" Sexy. "Not right now. You could come back in a couple of hours..." "What about you, Tom," Yana purred. "Are you available?" My head came up again. What? "Really, Yana, if you come back..." "You don't want me to suck your cock, my darling?" It is just so true that your other senses are heightened when you can't see. I strained to hear. There was rustling, like a big-boobed Slovakian international student sliding to her knees or something. And then some hushed whispering. The gasp was audible enough. "She is? Right now?" Her voice was too loud. More hushed murmuring. "Don't let her come in here, don't let her come in here, don't let her come in here," I chanted silently, not sure if I was addressing Tom, the Goddess, or whoever. I felt her presence in the doorway. She was taking me in. Nude. Bound. Wax covered. Wet. My legs wide open. Blindfolded. I must have been flushed red. The bed moved as it accepted her weight and she sat beside me. Her nails caught the wax and peeled it off of my right nipple. "Gelly," she said, "I think..." What? What did she think? That her best friend in the world was a nasty kinky slut? And just what the hell was that bit about sucking Tom's cock. It was a joke, right? Because he did have an erection when he went to stop her from coming into the bedroom? What did she think? "Yana, not now, please," I pleaded. I wanted her to go. "Please?" She touched the blindfold on my forehead. "I think you heard?" I was bound, blindfolded, naked, and she wanted to know if I had heard her stupid little joke about blowing my boyfriend? I was about to just beg her to go away when she stopped me by say, "I would not have... I didn't know you were here." Her fingers played so lightly on my nipple. It was standing up for her, looking so pretty I was sure. Straight as she is, Yana has this thing about playing with my breasts. Except, she wasn't quite straight, was she? She wanted me. What did my being there have to do with anything? Unless it wasn't a joke. Memories flashed at me. So many questions. Her asking me about anal sex and did I actually like it. The time she shaved her pubic hair because she was sleeping with the mystery man who liked bare pussies. Why was he a mystery? (I suspected a married man.) My jokes about how she could well be fucking Tom. And then the sudden, horrid crashing realization that I had told them they should be lovers. And she had not even liked anal sex when she tried it and she had let her hair grow back. I knew way too much and not nearly enough. I had told them they should be lovers. I had told them. I had. I just hadn't expected them to keep it a secret. Getting Yana Laid It wasn't as if Tom was faithful, physically, to me. We'd shared a dozen other women in our bed by then. And I wasn't exactly faithful to him. A time or two or ten. Me and some other girl. Some boys. I knew Yana and Tom were friends. Lovers? And if lovers, why hadn't I known? Because I am the stupidest woman in the world, I think. She had shaved her fucking pubic hair and I hadn't figured it out. Friends. "Gelly, I love you," Yana said. "We didn't want to hurt you with this." Her fingers on my nipple felt so good, but my mind was on fire. I think she was crying. I think I was too. Yana's lips slipped over my nipple. She seemed shy at first, so unlike her, but then she began to use her tongue, opening and closing her mouth over my breast. Between licks and sucks, she spoke. "Gelly," she began, "I love you. I have loved you..." it sounded like her voice was muffled for a moment just after her mouth lost contact with my breast. I heard rustling. "I have loved you for so long." She was kissing me, kissing me like a lover. She had taken off her blouse. Tom must have helped. Her bra followed; I heard it drop. "But I am not lesbian," she went on. "I cannot love another woman. I have of this talked with a therapist for many months. I am talking of it to my priest. And still, I am doing nothing but being attracted to you and loving you." Her body molded to mine as she kissed me again, but this time, she was naked. Her skin was warm and velvety. I wanted the damned blindfold off and I wanted my hands free and I wanted to know if my best friend, who was in love with me and had been in therapy about it, had been fucking my boyfriend because I suggested she should. I was a little conflicted. Tom's fingers—they must have been Tom's, I knew where Yana's were—peeled the wax from my cunt. I wanted to scream when I felt his lips touch me there. But I didn't. "I was going nearly crazy when I was around you, Gelly. I was so horny all of the times. And then you said that I should be sleeping with Tom, and I thought I will not be so horny all of the times if I do, even if it you I am lusting to have." Her speech came out rushed and disjointed. "So, I think, he is not so very old, but I am so very young and we talk and talk and I beg him not to tell you that I am fucking with him." "Why?" I demanded. She pushed the blindfold from my eyes. "I think that you cannot mind if he is putting his penis into me because you are all the time the two of you fucking other girls. Sally and Tracy and Caitlin and Amy and..." "Okay, okay..." "But all of these times you are fucking the two of you the other girls you are licking and being licked and I am afraid. I do not want to saying to you that you are not to lick me and I do not want to saying to you that I will not lick you. I am much talking of this with the therapist." I lay there wishing Tom would stop licking me at that moment. "I am afraid that if I go to bed with you and Tom together, you will want to have sex with me. I was afraid to letting you." Smart girl. In my imagination, I'd been able to see the three of us in bed with only a little incidental touching between her and me. Those were not the fantasies I enjoyed most. No, there were much nastier ones. Tom moved up on the bed next to me, opposite her, his long, hard body lying along mine. "We didn't like not telling you," he whispered in my ear, kissing me there, on my neck, on my hair. "We were are always at the same time realizing we are feeling love for one each other too as well as fucking" Yana spoke again. "I was afraid of making love with you if you were there." Yana's kisses trailed down my body, over each breast, tonguing my nipples, wrapping around them, sucking them into her mouth. Oh, god! I thought suddenly. That day in October when I came in and tasted pussy on his cock! He had said that Yana had been there earlier looking for me. It was her I has tasted. And I had gone out and had revenge sex because of that. I laughed. I did! Blindfolded, tied up, conflicted, I shook with the absurdity of my life. The whole thing was just suddenly too funny not to. "I was afraid of coming to bed with you and Tom because you will be making love to me as well, and this is the thing I want. I want to be your lover, but it is wrong." Yana's warm skin slipped over mine as she went down. My beautiful Yana's tongue ran up between the lips of my pussy. She lapped at me as my body shook with laughter. I stilled as she closed her lips over my clit. Her lips were so soft, but urgent as they pressed to me and moved the ring up and down. My body tingled. "They say that for two women to make love is wrong," she said, lifting her face from my cunt. "But I am fucking wildly like a bunny with Tom but we have not married, and they say that is wrong too." Again, her lips and tongue found me and I twitched as she moved my ring. I was in heaven. Yana was making love to me. Tom kissed me, his hand closing over my right breast as our lips parted and tongues battled. His other hand finally lifted the damp blindfold from my eyes. "Please, untie me," I murmured. Yana's hands slipped under my ass, lifting me as her tongue slid up and around over my pussy. A finger moved inside of me. Oh, my. She was fucking me. I tugged hotly at my bonds. I so wanted to be free just then. I needed to touch her. Tom understood and, not nearly fast enough, he freed my ankles. I lifted my legs and clutched at Yana's face with my thighs, so eager for her. I tugged again at my wrists, and that extra tension somehow carried me away. The heat, the moment, the passion, the final falling away of pretense and propriety just overwhelmed me, and I came for the first time with Yana. She pressed her lips to me as I rose up, the orgasm radiating through my body. There was a tingling numbness in the tips of my fingers as she made me cum. Her finger inside of me was pressing just so, as if she had been inside of me often before. How did she know? I heard myself crying out, unabashedly. The crashing, tearing breath, the flushing of my chest under my freckles. I came. I came for Yana. Tom finished untying me as that first, wonderful orgasm dulled happily. We kissed, then he kissed Yana, then she kissed me, then we all kissed one another. I felt two bodies on mine; one large and strong and hard, the other smaller and rounder and softer. Her breasts dragged heavily over my naked skin, delighting me with their texture and feel. His chest crushed to mine, my own breasts touching to him. We went on kissing and kissing. A flood of sensation and emotion hammered me like the crash of waves. So much was familiar, but this was Yana naked in our arms, not just a third for sex. I was so happy. I was so embarrassed. But, what I wasn't, was jealous. Not even when I felt Tom go into her. When he fucked her. Always before. Always. With all of those other girls. Even with Lindsay, most times. I took Tom into my mouth and sucked him so that he was nice and hard and his cock was slippery wet for the other girl, and I would put my boyfriend's cock into her. I would. And there was always a moment, some sharper than others, when I felt a twinge of jealousy, of insecurity, of doubt as I watched his cock disappear inside of her. Sometimes I felt nasty that I had put my boyfriend's dick into another woman's cunt, and I liked feeling nasty. As my relationship with Tom deepened, I understood my own desire for multiple lovers drove us as much as his. We fucked other girls. It was about us, not him. We. Perhaps that is part of what binds us to one another. But, as he took Yana, he was once more entering his lover, a girl he had been intimate with for a couple of months now. He knew her body, how to make her come. I wondered if she swallowed, like I do. I drew up, resting against the pillows piled at the headboard of our bed and watched them make love. She was on her back, legs lifted, as he moved between them. Her big boobs moved with each thrust of his cock deep into her cunt. I was going to lick her there. After all this time, all the bad jokes, the teasing, the flirting, the utter despair, I was going to lick Yana. And she had already licked me. I quivered just to remember that. They did something I didn't understand. Tom moved and Yana closed her legs with him still inside of her. He was straddling her legs, thrusting his cock in and out of her hard and fast. She turned, reaching for my hand, looking up at me and smiling. "I can only cum with my legs together," she whispered. I had no idea. But those two, those lovers, had discovered how she needed to be fucked in order to cum. I held her hand as she came, watching for the first time as she shook and tightened, flushed and made noise. Her fingers tightened on mine, crushing my hand in hers as she came as our lover fucked her so well. And then she did it again. And once more. And then yet again. I leaned in and kissed her between her orgasms. This was going to be such fun, I decided. Tom still hadn't come. He says he just likes fucking, and fucking for a long time, so he delays cumming. Of course, that kind of means that once he does he is worthless for the rest of the night, but by then, I have usually cum several times. And now he had fucked Yana to four orgasm and they weren't going to stop. With silent accord, they moved, and that lovely, beautiful girl rode atop my—our— boyfriend, straddling his big body and lowering herself once more onto his shiny, long, thick cock. I watched it go into her again, and was just happy. No gasp. No reservation. No twinge of jealousy. Just gladness. It was where he should be putting his cock. I'd imagined it so many times. I crawled to the foot of our bed. Yana was on top of Tom's body, facing toward me, her back to him. Her attention focused totally on me, even as she rose and fell on Tom, her body fluid and lithe as his cock moved in and out of her. I was fascinated. Crossing my arms, I laid my chin on them and just looked at the two of them fucking. There was a girl Tom and I had slept with a couple of times in the fall who had awed me with the pure physicality of her lovemaking. She had nothing on Yana. My girl love might be young and inexperienced, but she fucked with an enthusiasm I had never experienced before. God, she was gorgeous as she fucked. With a happy sigh, I moved to them, slipping between Tom's legs and touching her thighs. I dragged my hair over them, rolling my head back and forth before lifting and kissing her as she took Tom inside of her. It was fun to kiss her as she moved on top of him. I could smell her. "I love you, Yana," I purred, kissing my way down her body. I rolled each of her pretty brownish nipples under my tongue, teasing with delight as they responded. I pressed down with my lips, feeling her in my mouth, so absolutely happy after such confusion. Yana lifted her chest as she bounced up and down on Tom, giving me more of her boobs. Her hand touched my head, petting my hair and holding me to her breast. After a time of loving her nipples, I kissed lower, over her tummy, tonguing her navel, and down. I kissed the still short, soft brown hair on her mound and adjusted so I could kiss lower. Tom's cock, coated with her cream, was going in and out of her, and I reached out with my tongue to taste her on him. I licked up, running my tongue over her clit as she came down on him. She gasped, a happy cry, and I licked again. Both of my lovers. I ran my tongue over them with love, amazed at the feeling and taste and sensation of our lovemaking. I adored her clit as I adored his cock, kissing, licking, molding with my lips as she posted on Tom. I could feel her orgasm through my lips, sensing it almost before she did, because when she came she seemed startled. Her body heaved and collapsed forward, toward me as she came. "Gelly," she cried out. Then her words became incomprehensible. She may have been speaking in Slovak. I heard some French too. Je t'aime. We held her, Tom and I, as she came. She slipped off of his cock, and I took the slick length of him my mouth, sucking him, tasting her... realizing I had tasted her there before and laughing to myself at my silliness... Then I showed her what cock sucking was. I took him in and loved him, showing off for Yana, wanting her to admire my art. I wanted her to be proud of me. "Gelly, I have never cum from licking ever," she whispered to me as I bobbed my head up and down on Tom's cock. "It was amazing. Thank you." I stopped sucking long enough to smile and kiss her and say, "I love you, Yana." "I love you too, Gelly." "I love you, Tom." "I love you too, Kelly," our boyfriend murmured. I swallowed when he came in my mouth. Letting him slip from my lips, I lifted into Yana's kiss. * Just so that you know, her name is pronounced Yana, but the actual spelling is Jana. I used the convenience of the misspelling for the stories.