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Divided

By: brunorivera



For this story, my name will be Nelly. I come from a small rural town, but seeking a better future, I came to the big city; in an employment fair that traveled to my community college, I got hired as a receptionist for an insurance company. Upon arriving, I didn't know anybody, so I looked for an apartment in newspapers' classifieds. I called a young woman who looked for someone with whom to share the expenses, and she told her to meet her at a discotheque; we agreed on what we would wear in order to recognize each other easily. When we finally got there, she greeted me:

"Hello, I am Marilyn."

I tell her my name and she invites me to a table. Marilyn volunteers to buy me a drink, and I tell her that I would prefer a soda. We talked about the rent and the chores, and then, she invited me to the apartment. It was reasonable enough, I found it small but cozy and very clean. There are two small beds in the bedroom. She encourages me to inspect it and she then asks me:

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, it is so pretty. If you accept me as your roommate, you won't regret it."

"I Accept! Let's have a toast."

"You already know that I don't drink."

"It will be only one glass, in order to seal our agreement."

"Then I accept."

Then she served me a glass of wine, which I found to be a little strong, but I gulped it, so I wouldn't offend her. She offers me again:

"Do you want any more?"

"No more, thank you."

We began to chat. I told her that I was going to work as a receptionist and she tells me that she is in advertisement. We talked about our parents, schools and previous boyfriends; In this department, I didn't comment much, but she inquired:

"Did you leave a boyfriend in your town?"

"No."

"But do you have had some?"

"Some, but they were not serious."

"Excuse my prying, since we are already roommates. Do you have had experience? You know, sexual..."

"Some..."

"How many? Excuse me for insisting."

"Let's say that I had some orgasms, if that's what you mean."

Then, she left me keep quiet and proceeded to tell me about her experiences: schoolmates, and even a few college professors, but she emphasized that they meant nothing in her life. Quietly, I nodded to all that. There was a long pause and she said:

"I'm sorry, I am tired, and I guess that you are too."

"That's right. Where will I sleep?"

"Take the bed on the right."

Then, I took out what I carried in my luggage and I distributed it between drawers and closet, keeping underwear, a towel and other articles in hand, and I told her:

"I need to take a bath."

"Go ahead, you already live here."

I went into the bathroom, I shyly got undressed and I picked up my clothes in a grocery bag to wash it later, and I hit the shower. I adjusted the temperature, glad to have hot water and I took a quick bath. I got dressed again and she came to also take a shower. When she came out, I had already gone to bed. Excited by my newfound freedom, I could not sleep but I kept quiet so I wouldn't bother her. Then I heard her comment:

"I can't sleep either."

Although I was a little surprised, I didn't give it any importance. She spoke again:

"Can I go to your bed?"

"Go ahead, this is your house."

I sat down and she sat by my side. Then, she caressed my cheek. I didn't suspect yet. She told me:

"You are very pretty."

"You too. You should be a success with the boys."

Her caress on my cheek was more intense, and even, sometimes her fingers touched my neck, I imagined that amid the darkness, she didn't notice where she touched me, so I didn't stop her. Then she murmured:

"Forgive me, but you are irresistible."

Now I was alarmed.

"What?"

"Your beauty influenced in accepting you like as a companion."

The tone of Marilyn was insistent and begging, and that touched my soul. She was hungry for love. I hugged her discreetly, but she moved quickly and kissed me fully on the lips. An electricity coursed through me and I felt compelled to reciprocate her kisses. I opened my mouth to welcome hers and she pushed her tongue inside. That was like fire! I sent her mine and she devoured it while I did the same with hers. My head was spinning and I knew that we would not stop until reaching the orgasm. She turned on a night light on the table and removed my nightwear. I was going to remove hers and I felt her naked, and that turned us on, because she thought that I accepted her lesbianism. She praised me:

"Your touch is so soft!"

She lowered her lips to my neck, and she repressed an urge to bite me like a vampire. Then she reached my nipples and trapped them daintily with her teeth. My crotch squirted with excitement and I pushed her toward my bed and reciprocated her sucks, although I only used my lips and my tongue. She whispered, with a trembling voice:

"This feels so good, Nelly!"

Suddenly, she asked me:

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes!"

Then, she got up and reclined me on the bed with my feet toward the headboard, removed my panties with bewitching caresses, and she licked my clitoris. I groaned resoundingly and she rotated, placing her vulva on my face.

"You do to me what I do to you."

And she went along my labia with her lips and her tongue. At first, I imitated her easily and accurately, but when she touched my clitoris, the pleasure paralyzed me. When the orgasm was impending, I wanted to pull my face to scream, but she told me:

"Stick to my vagina and drown your screams there."

In order to solve this dilemma, I held on to her buttocks and that kept me going. I licked her so she would lick me more and the vibrations that we produced upon using each other's vulvas as gags drove us crazy. I even shed some tears, overcome by so many new emotions. The orgasms flooded our senses, but I discovered something surprising: I could have more successive orgasms, so I continued suckling.

When I believed that I could take no more of this, she turned from my vulva and indicated me:

"Put your finger in me like this."

She inserted her finger in me, and first, moved it in and out, like a penis; of course, I kept up. Then she crooked it and she fanned it a little, and then, something swelled in my vaginal wall: it was my G spot. I found hers and stroked it, although stiffly, because this sensation was much stronger. I felt this particular orgasm like a huge hammer blow to my head, and then, I fainted.

We woke up late at night and I discovered that she had also collapsed over me, because I don't know how, but I was able to give her the same violent sensation. We went to the toilet and we then took a shower, where she hugged me again and apologized for taking advantage of me:

"Now you know my secret: I am a lesbian. I could not help myself; I fell in love with you at first sight."

And she sobbed, expecting my rejection.

I still felt warm in my genitalia, and I responded to her tenderly:

"I love you too."

I was surprised by my own words, but I then accepted them as a heartfelt expression. She kissed me passionately, but our bodies could no longer take so much passion so we went to sleep, remaining naked. It was hard to unclasp our hands to reach our respective beds, so, when we awoke the next day, we joined them, to feel each other on the future.

Part II

At the beginning, my work was simple: helping visitors and answering the telephone. Sometimes, they sent me material in order for me to type, like business letters or very simple reports. I hardly ever had to work overtime, so I returned to my companion early, to help her with supper, or with laundry, or just to have passionate sex with her. We spent many weekends thoroughly cleaning the apartment, because I wanted to keep my word to Marilyn. Some nights, we went dancing to the discos, and there I began to confront the dilemma of being a "closet" lesbian or an "out". Anyhow, most of the clubs to which she took me are not exclusively for "gay" people, so I could dance with men, but keeping my distance, because I didn't want to get involved with them, not only to avoid my lover's jealousy, but fearing that men might get me pregnant, infect me with AIDS or even assault me.

She also invited me to her favorite gym to get me in shape, taking advantage of a two-for-one offer, because I was a little overweight, so when I finally had a more desirable figure, she had me depilate all of my unwanted body hair, so I could be absolutely smooth to the touch and free from rash. One afternoon, we went to a sex shop, and upon seeing such enormous and grotesque dildos that they sell there, I felt a mixture of curiosity, terror and morbid pleasure, upon imagining that she would buy a giant one in order to possess me as if she were a male, but of all that she chose, there was no such thing, but only creams, oils and sexy underwear. Then I asked her about what I saw there and she replied:

"Why would you want some strange object in your vagina, or even worse, in your anus? I can give you more pleasure with my hands and with my mouth, and I wouldn't trade the orgasms that you give me for some penis, either small or big, real or artificial."

End of discussion. I came to the conclusion that she is pure lesbian, not a dyke. That night, Marilyn gave me one erotic massage that aroused me very much, and when I gave her hers, I didn't know which one of us enjoyed it more, whether I, touching her, or she, being touched. At the end, we embraced with our hot and slippery bodies, crushing each other's teats and we even simulated manly humping moves, reaching an intense full-body orgasm, without a specific point of origin. We reluctantly washed off the mess from our bodies and we fell asleep exhausted. This is life!

In my work, everything went well, and the pay was enough to fulfill my part of the rent and expenses, and to buy small luxuries, or to even send my family money or gifts. But there was a situation with a junior executive, whom I will call John, to whom they assigned all the thankless jobs, like helping difficult clients, handling claims or staying late to do bookkeeping; really, I know little about his problem, because I could only hear gossip or hearsay, which were very biased, by the way.

One afternoon, a small conspiracy was hatched against John, and I noticed him acting nervous and concerned. At some point, I had to leave the reception to go to the ladies' room, and upon returning, he met me, and without the others noticing, he begged my help with something at the end of my shift. I told him yes, and I also called Marilyn to tell her about my commitment to work late. When all the others left, he began to work. He showed me some search engines so that I should keep them running and had me print and save documents to disks which were necessary to build reports. However, he noticed that some data was missing, and he went into other employees' desks and offices, trying to look for the information that we needed. He asked me to write small notes and summaries of what I saw, and he would elaborate them; I then realized that: either there was gross negligence on behalf of the other executives, or even embezzlement. At the end, he made several copies, in papers, disks and CDs, and he wanted me to keep some. I told him that I don't want confidential information in my apartment, because I wouldn't want to involve my roommate with my work. Then, he asked me to help him carry all that he wanted to safeguard in his apartment. He had a certain air of sadness, product of the abuses of his workmates, and I sympathized with him. I asked him to stop at a drugstore, because I needed some "sport drink," because I felt a little hungry but it was already too late to eat solid food. Without myself, much less him, realizing, I bought condoms, because I felt the impulse of comforting him in a little more personal manner. So upon arriving to his apartment and storing everything, I deliberately bumped my hands into his, I looked at him deeply in the eyes and I rushed onto his body. He is no "geek," but neither was a "Metrosexual" man. I kissed him, drifting between affectionate and furiously, trying to seduce him the way Marilyn seduced me. He responded with shy hunger and I drew him to my breasts, then he surrendered to them. I became hot and lubricated at once, without hardly having time to undress. When he descended toward my vulva, he avoided the direct contact with the labia, and he merely inserted a finger in the vagina shallowly, but his mouth clung to my mons and his tongue lashed at my clitoris playfully. I had a small orgasm, and eager for more sensations, I handed him a condom, but he was already wearing one. He penetrated me somewhat hurriedly and I had another soft climax while his penis eased into my love canal. He started stroking slowly but I urged nim:

"Give it to me harder, deeper!"

He pushed in all the way and then asked me:

"Like this?"

I squeezed a little, putting my G-spot in contact with his glans and I encouraged him:

"Yes! Now, quicker!"

He pumped madly into me and I enjoyed it a lot, reaching my desired super-orgasm before he ejaculated and got tired. Then, he apologized:

"Forgive me, I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

"It's OK. We both needed it.

Perhaps it was not more than some sexual fooling around that I had with other boys in my teenage years, but I felt a connection to him, some kind of love. Besides, I was too delirious and drowsy to feel any guilt; and struggling not to fall asleep, I got up, got washed and he took me to my apartment. Marilyn stood there waiting, so she questioned me:

"You were fucking that... that...? Man!"

With some cynicism, I answered:

"Yes. Perhaps, I am not really homosexual."

I expected a slap on my face, so I looked at her directly in the eyes, defiantly. But then she screamed:

"Right now, I want you out of this house!"

That hurt me more, I even got scared, because I still was not ready to finish my current relationship, and much less, begin another, now with a man. Definitively, it would have been better that she hit me hard; so perhaps she would later be sorry and she might forgive me. But I wanted to fake strength and maturity, and deep in my role of "femme fatale", I taunted her:

"You are right, I know that I deserve it."

And I went for my things. Marilyn told me to call him, saying:

"You call that guy, and see if he wants to keep you, you whore!"

I told her that I didn't know John's telephone number, so she insisted that I told her where he lives he and drove me there herself. It was an irony to notice that we passed by the disco where I first met her. Upon arriving at his gate, I tried to call him without making too much noise, but she grew impatient and banged hard, until he came down to meet us. He looked sleepless, but he ushered us politely and he let us in promptly. She explained, in a fit of jealous rage:

"This tramp was my girl; I loved her and used to believe that she was sincere with me, but now that she got involved with you, you can keep her!"

John enthusiasm overcame his puzzlement and answered:

"It will be an honor for me if Nelly stays with me!"

His answer exasperated her more, and in a very bad mood, my former lover helped me toss my things inside the apartment. At the end, she gave me a look of disgust, as if the semen of a man were a biological or chemical weapon, then she turned away and left us. I apologized:

"John, you shouldn't have to go through so much shame for my sake."

He answered, showing discretion:

"For me, it is not a problem having you here. I will respect your privacy. I am only interested in your welfare."

I dropped to the floor of his small living room, among my luggage. He tried to raise me to set me in his sofa, but I stiffened, while mumbling:

"I'm not worthy of your touch, I am filthy!"

He left me alone. After a while, he returned and reminded me:

"Dawn will come very soon. Can you see? After all, I could not sleep either, so I spent all this time giving the final touches to our presentation. Come along, take a shower and let's get ready!"

I saw the first morning light and I forced myself to wake up, clean up and get dressed. He brewed some coffee and told me:

"I hardly ever drink this, but we will need all the energy that we can muster, because whatever awaits us in the office won't be easy."

Upon arriving at the office, he gathered his documents, and he even had to use some of the copies that he prepared as insurance. Soon the meeting began and John summoned me to his side; I also had to give some of my own impressions about the work that we performed last night; although I felt nervous with so many eyes watching me, I was able to express myself coherently. He looked to me for moral support, because his cause was just, and although I felt uncomfortable, for all through which I went during the past hours, my mere presence served him as inspiration.

I excused myself in order to return to my duties, and after not very long deliberations, there were reprimands toward the employees who made John's life miserable, although not as severe as I would have wished, but the boss didn't want to antagonize the team too much. My friend got a raise and all the others would have to report to him from that day on.

We were a little euphoric, that is, until we returned home. Then, the whole memory of my betrayal hit me and I didn't dare to look at him. I insisted, with sorrow:

"I am not the right girl with whom to celebrate your victory. I don't deserve you."

"But this victory is yours too. I wouldn't have pulled this off by myself, but I drew much strength from you."

He cut himself short, thinking that he had made an indiscretion, he even felt like he had raped me to satisfy his ego. He reassured me:

"I won't force you to do something which you believe to be wrong. Don't you worry; the fact that you are here is enough to make me happy. Thank you!"

He cooked a very delicious supper for us, and upon finishing having dinner, I offered to clean up for him. He was very considerate in assisting me. His happiness should have been very contagious, but I still felt guilty. I went to the sofa to pick up my luggage, for I left them wide open in the hurry of moving here and getting ready to go to work on time. He retired to sleep, and I leaned back in his sofa, unable to sleep.

The hours went by, and nervously, I went to his bedroom. I did not feel like giving myself to him ever again, but I felt very lonely. I opened the door without making noise, and I watched him while he slept. I shuddered and turned away to run back to the sofa, but he called out to me to stop:

"Nelly?"

The blood froze in my veins and I stood petrified; they were many emotions that stirred inside me, about to drive me mad. He explained to me:

"I'm not asleep. I am so euphoric! Wish you could feel the same."

I could see that he extended his hand toward me, in spite of the near darkness. But his fingers respectfully lingered inches away from my reach. My desire for him flared inside me again, but my shame prevented me from giving in to him, and then, I thought that he deserved to have a good time, even with such a cheap and vulgar woman as me. So I slowly turned to face him, I noticed that he was already sitting on his bed and I approached him. I pulled his pajama pants down and took out his penis, I caressed it and I lowered my head to suck it. He exclaimed:

"Don't you want me to caress you too?"

I gobbled his member more deeply so I didn't have to speak to him. And he insisted tactfully:

"You don't have to do this for me."

I wept silently, but I used my tears and other secretions to lubricate it and so give him more pleasure. He exclaimed excitedly:

"Oh, Nellyyyyyyyyy...!"

And he filled my mouth with semen! And if my throat had not been so sore from my crying, I would have swallowed it whole, so I contented myself with tasting it. He announced to me:


Divided



"Kiss me!"

And he lifted me to envelop my mouth with his own. He found his own flavor, and although he made some grimace, he didn't part from my mouth. He intertwined our lips and tongues vehemently, and he only stopped to beg me:

"Let me return the favor."

I sighed my consent to John and he proceeded to kiss my breasts, taking the opportunity to spill the corporal fluids that he scooped from my mouth; he traveled from my chest to my belly with kisses and licked and he refrained from arriving to my vulva until he got rid of my slime. He finally made contact with my labia, tracing them with his lips, tongue and even his nose when he licked my perineum, bordering around my anus. I screeched from pleasure, and voiced:

"What a bitch I am!"

When my clitoris became erect, he suckled it and tongued as I did to his penis, digging a little with his tongue toward my urethra to expose more of my vestige of a male member, so to surround more of it with his lips. He demonstrated me that he enjoyed it almost as much as I did upon receiving such indulgence. My hips shook because of so much pleasure and he struggled to hold me down, and the muscular tension amplified my orgasm. I groaned:

"Ooooooohhh!"

The next thing that he did drove to paroxysm: he put his fingers and in my vagina and he touched my G-spot! I screamed and I grunted like a wild animal while ejaculating and then fainted. In my semi-consciousness, he cuddled me in his arms, looking for the wetness that he deposited on me; I, weakly, placed mine next to his and he leaned against my back, in the spoon position, and he lulled me:

"This was meant to be: I love you and I know that you love me too. You are very nice, beautiful in body and soul. I guarantee you that we will be happy."

I told him, limply:

"Yes, I also love you very much. I will do my best to please you."

"You won't have to work hard, just be yourself. You already make me so happy! Don't worry."

We succumbed to the drowsiness...

Part III

...waking up in each other's arms seemed like an encouraging contrast to my depression of this couple of days ago! He and I spoke from our hearts:

John: "I don't intend that you forget your Marilyn, I will accept that she remains a beautiful memory in your life."

Nelly: (I) "But now, you are my present and my future!"

"You make me so proud! I am the one who doesn't deserve such an angel as you!"

I had to kiss him, to silence his undeserved praise. We moved into the 69 position and he also had enough stamina not to leave my vulva upon ejaculating, by grabbing firmly by my butt cheeks; the only thing was that he shoved his penis deep into my throat, gagging me. I allowed the first stream of semen to go through, which heated my stomach, and pried him off me a little, in order to keep the rest of it in my tongue, while I trapped his glans between my lips, like a baby's pacifier. When my orgasm finally arrived, I wrapped my teeth with my lips to bite the head and to mask a groan of ecstasy. Thus, we sealed our love. From then on, we became a steady couple.

At work, the boss also rewarded me, although only with a productivity bonus. But then he offered me an executive assistant position, working alongside with John, my lover. Although the offer was tempting, I told him that I liked being a receptionist. He told me that the offer would remain open, because at the right moment, we both knew that I will accept it. I also came to feel a special affection for him, but not to have sex with him, but to work loyally for the company.

John and I began to go out together, and at first, we flaunted our mutual conquest with some modesty. We went to the movies, to restaurants, museums and public parks; I even took him to the dance hall, since we lived close by. He danced very badly, although I didn't do it so well, but we enjoyed the opportunity to hug, kiss and caress erotically in public without people judging us. But in the back of my mind, my true purpose was to look for Marilyn, to find out about her, whether she was all right, if she suffered, if she was able to forget about me. I didn't dare to ask, but I eavesdropped without intruding. From time to time, John allowed me to dance with other boys, also avoiding any involvement in some whirlwind of adulterous passion. My main mission was to hear any comments about Marilyn, because I remembered that she danced with men when she could not conceal an attempt to do it with me. Then I knew that others already knew about her lesbianism, and they gossiped that she left with other young women to have one-night stands. She satisfied their bisexual curiosity and she drowned her pain for my absence in them. I saw her once! I struggled with myself not to call out to her, and then, I had to buy me a strong and bitter drink to keep me from crying. But John, my faithful John, my eternal John, read what I was feeling in that moment. He was very aware of that he, much less that I, should not allow himself to be seen by my ex. He dragged me out of the bar and led me to our haven, but I was no longer in the mood for anything, except for vomiting and then for crying. It was the worst night that I had ever spent at his side, topped only by that fateful night in which I lost Marilyn. The next day, John made me face the fact that I could never be just friends with my former live-in partner. He is all man, because he knows how to get right to the point when it is necessary, but even if he were weaker of character, I would love him the same.

We never went back to dance there, because he also felt uncomfortable with having "two left feet." Our social life went downhill, because as our attachment grew, we preferred to spend our free time at home to experience more sexual pleasures. So, a weekend afternoon, I took him to that same sex shop where Marilyn took me. I still needed to exorcize the memory of her a little more in order to feel free again. We bought there the creams that she and I used for that unforgettable body massage, along with more condoms, because he insisted on protecting me from a pregnancy, which after all, would be the only way in which he could hurt me.

Upon arriving to the apartment, we left defrosted what we would later have for dinner, and we got undressed to prepare, that included a quick shower and some nail clipping; we both thought that it was such a waste to clip mine, which were already very long and stylized. Since I already had some practice in the "art" of the massage, I lay him on the bed first and I ran my hands on his body while applying him the creams, thus I discovered his muscles and his other erogenous zones. With him facing down, I kneaded his temples, cheeks, the nape of his neck, his shoulders, armpits, triceps, elbows, forearms, wrists, palms and fingers, in order to trail back in inverse order, to his shoulders, and continue for his shoulder blades, his spine, ribs, waist, hips and buttocks, these, I stroked quickly and I promised him:

"I will return here very soon."

To what he responded nicely:

"I will be waiting for you."

I rubbed his thighs vigorously, and I moved along for his knees, calves, ankles, soles and toes. I traced my return to his pelvis with my fingers barely hovering over his skin and then I manhandled his buttocks shamelessly, as if fondling a woman. I sat down on his knees, in order to pin him down, and I furrowed his perineum in order bring him to a small orgasm, when I achieved it, I became sadistic and I began to stroke his anus, pressing into it with the tips of my index finger or the one which one sticks out when insulting. This alarmed him, because that is off-limits for him and this represented a threat to his last shred of macho pride and homophobia. I leaned on him, making him feel my bristled nipples on his back and buttocks, and I soothed him, by saying:

"Daddy, I don't want to demean your manliness, but in the erotic massage, anything goes, as long as it is not painful. Also, all of me is yours, so all of you belongs to me. Please, open up for Mamma!"

My intention was to infect him with the fever of multiple orgasms, and I got close to that goal, although he achieved them with some minutes of spacing. Finally, after caresses, loving words and much more cream, he relaxed and I got my finger inside. I morbidly enjoyed disrespecting him that way. I dilated him little by little, in order to reach more deeply with one or two fingers. I whispered to him mockingly:

"How does my beautiful girl feel, my little woman?"

Getting himself fully in my game, he replied:

"As if were your prostitute."

I stroked him in and out, excited with my power over him and the heat that his cavity irradiated in my finger. I was even able to find his prostate gland and I used my technique in order to give him a masculine version of the G-spot orgasm, as homosexuals do with sodomy. When he ejaculated, his voice fluctuated wildly in volume and pitch, and when he calmed down, I exclaimed:

"You truly are my slut!"

In any another circumstance, this would be a serious insult for him, which might cause him to beat me to death, but after such a powerful orgasm, he felt happy that I dishonored him so.

I turned him around and I reassured him with these words:

"I will now return your manliness, my big and strong man!"

I gave him a fleeting kiss in his lips and after washing and pouring fresh cream, I caressed his skull, his forehead, cheekbones, jaw, neck, shoulders, clavicles, armpits, biceps, inside his elbows, forearms, wrists, palms and fingers, to return, in inverse order, to the shoulders, and move on to his breastbone until arriving at his nipples, which I caressed until drawing another orgasm, another little bit of feminine illusion. By this time, I was moved to tears and I nagged him, like a Hindu "mantra":

"I love you, I love you, I love you...!"

I continued to the ribs, and I went on to compulsively knead his belly, full of fascination, furrowing toward the "love handles" around his waist, as if trying to reduce them. I fondled his abdomen, his bladder, and I traced his penis and testicles, again promising him that I would give them special attention later. I continued with his thighs again, his knees, calves, ankles, soles and toes. I traced my return path to the perineum and I surrounded his testicles and penis with both hands. It seemed longer and harder than ever before and I masturbated him frantically, alternating my hands, craving the blessing of his hot semen.

"Feel this, my man...!"

The abundant spurt of semen amazed me and I squealed, laughed and cried, because I was bursting with sheer love for my great John. The magic thing about the erotic massage is that it takes none of the vigor from the one who receives it, so he was ready to pay me back. He did to me all that I had done to him, but adding his special touch, masculine, urgent. I reveled in his "anal revenge", because when he put his fingers in my anus and rectum, he led me to an orgasm that made me look forward to his eventual penetration, and when he did my front, my orgasm through the breasts left me delirious, and his fingers on my labia, my clitoris and then inside my vagina (remember, boys and girls, we washed our hands before working on the front) drove me crazy. I was also energized and not drained, although he stimulated my G-spot and I let loose a female ejaculation even farther than his.

We got hungry, so we washed the cream off our bodies, which left a refreshing and smooth sensation on us. We got ready to cook and I put on an old-fashioned apron in order to be in front of the stove, wearing nothing else. He paid me this compliment:

"You look sexier wearing that than with all those erotic clothes that you brought along. Not even naked would you be more beautiful. I want to keep seeing that garment on you in your old age."

He meant it. The cloth barely covered my breasts and my nipples escaped around the sides and all of my back and my arse were exposed; he even gave me a playful little spank, which far from offending me, made me proud. That benevolent aggression made me realize that we would be together forever. When he had to watch over the stove, I put the apron on him and I also noticed that he looked very sensual dressed like that, and although I would have preferred to see his penis sticking through the garment, I acknowledged the protection that it afforded him, above all. I expressed myself:

"You're beautiful, too!"

He only looked at me and beamed me a smile. Impressed, I blew him a kiss.

We had dinner happily, and sometimes, we crossed the table to kiss and get mouthfuls of food from each other's mouths. We also spilled some sauce on ourselves with the full intention of mutually licking it off. We had already left behind the disgust, the shame, the fear and the pain. There was only room in our hearts for love, appreciation, tolerance and understanding.

Upon having dinner, we put the dinnerware away hastily and we sat down in the sofa to rest, holding hands. Later we washed everything very well. I had to go to the toilet and upon defecating, I reminisced on his finger through my anus and I got excited again, so I took a spent bottle of vaginal douche, I refilled it with water in the sink and gave myself small enemas, in order to be very clean and fresh for John. He was already lying on the bed, with the expectation of what else we would do.

I sat on his thighs and leaned until I touched my nipples against his, and we shared this sigh:

"Oh, Nelly, you are insatiable!"

"Are you getting tired of me?"

"I still need you."

"So do I."

I dragged my vulva over his testicles and his penis, and upon passing beyond to his belly, I let his manhood rise again, in order to feel it against my buttocks. I teased myself with it, wedging it in the cleft between my buttocks! I was able to slip the ever-present condom on him without glancing backwards, and I aimed it toward my rear hole. I murmured, more for myself than for John:

"I am about to fulfill your darkest wish."

"How do you know so much about my dark wishes?"

Then, I loosened my sphincter and I lowered myself to welcome my beloved intruder in my rectum. There was some pain, on which I masochistically relished, and when it subsided, I began to rock in order to make anal love to myself. He grabbed me by my breasts to support my body and to boost my pleasure, but I felt selfish, so I spun around with his member still in me to face his feet and to jump up and down. He lifted his hips sometimes to match my rhythm, and when he didn't follow anymore, due to his orgasms, he just fondled my buttocks. I allowed myself to spiral into the kinkiest and sleaziest climax that I have ever experienced. When he lost his erection due to exhaustion, I ejected his limpness and I leaned on his side, lingering on the irritation as a reminder of such an explosive experience.

Part IV

Late that night, a strange noise woke us up. John recognized it as the intercom buzzer, newly installed as a consequence of the ruckus that Marilyn caused, and we jumped off the bed to answer it; I was not going to leave him alone, although we still were naked and a little sticky. The voice seemed to say:

"Nelly, John, help me! Please...!"

John remarked, a little annoyed:

"I don't recognize this voice!"

"But I do: It is Marilyn! Open quickly!"

My emotions coursed through me faster than light, and it felt like an eternity while my boyfriend pressed the button that unlocked the main door. She entered, and I saw the image of death in her: her make-up was smeared on her face, with a few streaks left by tears, and her clothes, usually sexy and elegant, were dirty and a little disheveled. She was barefoot, because her usually luxurious shoes lost their high heels. A sob escaped from my throat and I hugged her impulsively, interrogating her with barely-contained hysteria:

"What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

"There was a riot at the "disco," and I fled. I didn't know where to go, so I wouldn't be followed to my home...!"

Her body trembled violently and she broke down in tears. I pressed her against my body, trying to infuse some strength and serenity to her. But my own knees betrayed me, and I had an urge to urinate, either for the cold of the night or the horror that she transmitted to me. I took her by the shoulders and I led her to the bathroom, inviting her to:

"Come wash and freshen up."

I looked at John and I told him, as if by telepathy:

"I have pending matters with her..."

I turned on the light and she saw me naked, but she was more concerned about other things, so she allowed me to take off her already useless clothes, and she went in the shower. Marilyn couldn't figure out which faucet to turn to get the right water temperature, so I went in with her, with the pretext of helping her. I began to wash her myself, so I could check if she was hurt, I felt so much relief when I saw that she was OK. Upon making contact with the water, I could not control myself any longer and I urinated on her legs. She looked at me shocked, but I attacked her with a full-mouth kiss. She struggled to pry herself free and I insisted to her, also telepathically:

"You won't escape that easily from me!"

She settled on lathering me too, because she missed the feeling of my body. I later washed her beautiful hair, because it reeked from alcohol and cigarettes; and while we rinsed, we continued to hug and caress each other. I shut the shower off and I lay her daintily on the cold floor of the bathroom, and I placed myself over her in the famous 69 position, where we devoured each other with lust. We didn't afford a thought about John, in the same way that I had pushed her out of my mind when I justified myself by thinking that he needed my affection after such a difficult day at the office. After two or three quick orgasms, I raised her and I told her:

"Now I want you to get to know John, the real John."

We left the bathroom already in another mental plane and I signaled my man so he could get ready. They opened both their mouths in order to babble some protest but I put my foot down on them with my air of dominatrix, and becoming aware of an unexpected erection, John sheathed himself while waiting for us to make the trek to the bed. I introduced them, with a playful excitement:

"Marilyn, please meet John; John, I present to you: Marilyn."

They mumbled "How do you do?" almost in sync.

She looked at me perplexed and I encouraged her to kiss him. She touched her cheek against his and I scolded her:

"Not like that! Like this!"

And I smooched with him, and immediately with her, shamelessly. Then I took their heads and I aligned them; the closeness of their breaths did the rest and she melted against him. I didn't feel jealous, on the contrary, it was my greatest hope that this encounter between my two great loves would happen. I grabbed her breasts and I steered her body so that she inserted the virile member in her vagina. I reminded her:

"Do you remember that I asked you once about dildos? Now I want you to try mine; only this one is alive."

I pressed their bodies with mine so that the penetration became deeper and neither of them could withdraw. I rubbed my torso against her back in order to put some rhythm into her rediscovery of heterosexuality. She took over and began to shake, finding the orgasm for herself and for him, while their friction against my body gave me that full-body orgasm. The three of us collapsed exhausted and I admitted to them, excited:

"I love you both! I will never allow any one of you out of my life, ever!"

I cried with happiness, fondling them and kissing them relentlessly. They patronized my caresses, while they fell asleep. I stared at them for a while lying together before I also fell asleep.




Divided



Epilogue

Upon awakening, all of us were surprised of finding ourselves in such a compromising position, but I addressed them sternly and I told them:

"There's no turning back. I love you both very much. Nobody can change that. John, I made you..."

I turned my face from John toward Marilyn, and I continued:

"...stick it to you, Marilyn. You two are irrevocably joined through me."

I gave a tender kiss to my favorite lesbian, took her hand and I joined it with that of my man, enveloping them with mine.

"I don't know if this can work."

Both commented with skepticism.

"This means that I am neither straight nor lesbian. Perhaps, I am bisexual. Marilyn, I missed you so much, and by what I could understand from the gossip about you, I know that you missed me too. John, this is not about something in which you may have failed me. The same goes to you, Marilyn. I saw the need in both of you and I know that you both love me too. And it is not so much for the sexual part. You have such beautiful feelings, as much as this young man here."

As I spoke, I sat down next to John and I attracted Marilyn so that she sat by my other side. Then I threw my arms over each shoulder, and I pulled them toward me. I turned their faces on mine in order to experience a triple kiss. Then she became broke free to stand up and she said:

"All right! You win; I won't be jealous of him."

I replied to her:

"Come on, Marilyn, you can do better than that."

I stared at her, and I raised my chest, insinuating to her how much her body vibrated upon contact with a man, one which I know that she already loves. I noticed that her nipples were erect, and her skin sweated, evoking feelings that she believed forgotten for so long. Suddenly, John began speaking:

"Marilyn, I also discovered that I love you. At first, I was afraid of your feelings that night in which you arrived here; that was your pain talking through you. In fact, I allowed Nelly to drag me to that "disco" and I even swallowed the ridicule of not being able to dance, because privately, I also wanted to see you, to see you smile, to see you dance, to sense what you really feel, who you really are. I don't love you merely as an imitation of how Nelly loves you. Oh, Marilyn...! I don't know what more to say to you!"

Marilyn began to cry like a little girl, and that struck a chord in me. John wanted to be chivalrous by comforting her, but his feelings got the best of him. I stood up to support them, and I squeezed them to me as hard as I could, telling them lovingly:

"Don't you worry, I know that we will all be happy from now on."

I helped them to lie on the bed and I embraced Marilyn, while I drew John over us; I ordered him:

"Enter me from behind, and don't you put on a condom."

He obeyed, as if hypnotized, so he pierced my anus, and although we were dry, I didn't feel any pain. I coiled myself around one of Marilyn's thighs so that our vulvas and clitoris touched. The lunges of the male governed our rhythm, but I broke the contact, so that we girls fingered each other feverishly, so to reach G-spot orgasms and I could get my hand wet with our feminine juices in order to masturbate John, so he would also ejaculate on Marilyn's abdomen, in order to seal our pact of love by mixing all of our goo upon joining my skin with that of my estranged lover. We all anointed ourselves crazily with that dribble before having to wash it off.

We got dressed and I dressed Marilyn wuth the outfit that I was wearing when she saw me for the first time, so to leave my mark on her skin, and we drove her to pick up her car. It had a broken glass, but nothing serious. We escorted her until she parked in her building. She parted from us, saying:

"Excuse me, guys, but I need to be alone to assimilate what has happened to us today. Later I will bring your dress back, Nelly."

I replied, a little melodramatic:

"No way! It is yours now, and even if you don't ever want to see me again, I will stay with you for the rest of your life through it."

She stretched her body to hug us, and we then reminded her:

"Go get some rest."

She locked herself inside her apartment and John and I returned home. We had to relieve each other at times on the way back, because the emotionally-charged atmosphere overwhelmed us. However, upon arriving at home, all the tears were gone, because we felt that we had made peace with ourselves.

Marilyn's independent spirit wouldn't allow her to settle down with us, but she visits us very frequently to share in our passion. I decided to get married to John, so I could introduce him to my family in a traditional wedding, and Marilyn agreed to be my bridesmaid, in order to also feel married to him without scandalizing my country people. Thus bonded, we stopped using birth control so I could feel his hot semen inside all my holes. When my husband and I began to have children, my girlfriend allowed him to get her pregnant once, and when all of our children grew up, they began to understand the facts of our lives, since we raised them with equal love, without any kind of stigma. They accept and love each other as good siblings, much like their three parents are united to each other. We have an understanding that, if I were the first to die, John should marry Marilyn at once, in order to protect her rights as mother and domestic partner, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...