"Oh! Oh! Good idea!" Candace gasped, also close. Reluctantly, she staggered back when Jean raised her legs.
"Hurry!" Jean urged. "We don’t want to lose it…" She sounded selfish, but Candace was in full agreement. Candace arranged herself on the rug with the vibrator pointing straight up from her groin, and Jean aligned it with her channel and began settling on it.
"Yessss," Candace hissed. The buzzing pressure against her clit was exquisite, and Jean hadn’t settled fully onto her yet!
Instead of kneeling above Candace, Jean squatted. It required much more athleticism, but it allowed her crotch more motion. She settled her pubic bone against the harness — and against Candace’s, through the leather — and began rocking and rubbing — something that would have hurt a male with a firmly anchored cock, but that worked fine against the play of the harness. The effect was to vary the location and pressure of their buzzing interface — something that rapidly drove both of them nuts!
As intended, Beth minced downstairs to find the pair of them grinding against one another, deep in the throes of unfeigned passion. As she hit the foot of the stairs, Candace groaned to Jean, "Play with my nipples, please!"
Jean was by nature too inhibited to do such a thing — earlier, she’d asked Beth to play with her own nipples, too embarrassed to do it to herself in public. But they were too far along to get picky about the whole thing now; gingerly, she lowered her hands to Candace’s breasts — something she had never done before.
"Ahhhhh!' Candace moaned. "Rub my nipples! Yessss! Sssssoooo cloooose…" She stiffened and began to thrash under Jean as orgasm overtook her.
Now Jean, arguably even more stimulated and boosted by the novelty of handling nipples not her own, started quaking and jouncing through her own orgasm, red-faced, her little titties bouncing as she jounced up and down on the plastic shaft impaling her. "Ahhhggggghhhh! God!" She flopped forward, bracing herself stiff-armed, her hands in either side of the supine Candace.
"Shit, that was great!" Candace gasped. "Do you think you can do me again?"
Jean blinked. With eight inches of buzzing plastic inside her, she was under the impression that SHE was the one being done — but then again, she WAS the one moving… "Um, yeah, I guess…" Being bent forward didn’t stop the vibrator, and it didn’t keep her from grinding her pelvis into Candace’s. "How’s this?"
"Ooooohhhhh! Just fine, Honey!" Candace glanced up and collected Beth’s eyes, "Come over here and suck on my titties, Slut. Give Jean whatever she wants, too, while you’re at it."
Beth did as she was told; it was clear that while she was going to participate in this act, she wasn’t to get any satisfaction from it. Wondering how long it would take to live her mistake down, she lowered her face to Candace’s right breast.
Jean returned to the vertical to allow Beth to work, but moved Beth’s hand away from Candace’s left breast. "Leave one for me," she whispered, blushing. It was probably the bravest she had ever been where sex was concerned, but this was a week of firsts, and she found that pinching and mauling Candace’s rubbery nipples was fun … Candace just looked up and smiled, and Jean got back to the business of kneading their vibrating pussies together.
At the mall, Lon and Rick started making their own luck. They were kicking back at the food court, eyeballing the prospects with that somewhat less than urgent interest that confidence and access to a steady supply of feminine attention brings. Lon was avoiding Toby, for reasons that seemed good to both Rick and himself…
The usual gaggle of Barbie-doll knock-offs were flitting around modeling their fashion choices; the guys knew better than to get too excited by them. Theoretically, they were collectable, for either of them (but would not be for Toby, which brought Lon some vague amusement, when he thought about it; if they only knew… ) — but you either learned early that chicks who were primarily decorative were more trouble than they were worth, or you didn’t. Lon liked to think that this wisdom was why he didn’t bother, not the fact that they were so difficult to get a handle on in the first place.
Rick, who had a bit more difficulty with the group, was of like mind. One swaggered by, carrying four shopping bags, and Rick grunted, "Daddy’s charge card is smoking in HER purse!"
Lon chuckled, then sobered. "Think we’re out of the doghouse?"
"Yeah." Rick ruffled his dark locks. "Mom’s talking to me again as of this morning. I think she might even be talking to YOU again, after yesterday." He shook his head, remembering. "Yesterday was a bit much…"
"Sure was," Lon agreed. Eating pussy had been fun, but suffering through the one-sidedness of the situation had sucked…
Rick shook his head. "Mom just jumped out there…"
"Yeah. I thought she was a lot more conservative and hung-up than that," Lon ventured.
"Me, too," Rick agreed. "I think we’ve created a monster…"
Lon laughed, then sobered. "She was pretty tough on you, too…"
"Yeah." Rick’s expression became pensive. "I got to thinking about it … Never really had before."
Lon knew what it was. "Well, you had your nose rubbed in it, pretty hard! I can sympathize; Mama hasn’t been on her best behavior for a while, now. But it’s still not the game we want to be playing."
"Yeah." Rick sat back, sighing. Neither of them sounded totally convinced.
"Let’s head for Toby’s about one," Lon suggested. "We can get a little something from Beth before she goes to work…" Rick opened his mouth to agree, but Lon’s attention was gone; suddenly, he was tracking something, "Huh! I wonder…"
Sally Harkness was … Thick? Stocky? Wide-bodied? She wasn’t fat, or even necessarily pudgy; it appeared that someone had taken a more or less ideally shaped girl and over inflated her a little bit. She was just … more substantial — meatier, maybe — all over. She was no little slip of a thing in any dimension. Under her hank of somewhat thin, lank, mouse-brown hair (currently artfully streaked with blonde highlights), her face reflected a baby-doll beauty — but her size kept her off the top ten list of just about every male she had ever come into contact with, and the other few, well, didn’t deserve her. She was five feet nine and sported a pair of 40Ds, but she also sported a substantial ass, and while she could do a bikini, comments like That’s a lotta woman! kept her from doing it.
Why she and her girlfriend Teela Pendergast were at the mall escaped her; nothing good ever happened there. Usually, the pair would slink through the halls to the cinema and take in a movie — or two, depending upon vagaries of available allowance and the total lack of alternatives with any viability — then slink back out, hoping not to attract too much in the way of negative attention from the bright and perky in-crowd shopaholics lingering in the fashionable clothing outlets. The mall could be especially miserable for someone who everybody knew had to shop at Lane Bryant or Catherine’s — even if she didn’t, really (and Sally REALLY didn’t — or at least not all the time).
From a visual standpoint, hanging out with Teela (whose real name was Natalie) was a big mistake. Teela was a wannabe Goth girl — thin, knobby-kneed, wearing heavy, thick-soled knee-high boots or bright black buckle shoes over lacy black leggings. She did the white pancake and black lipstick and eyeliner thing, complete with ridiculous eyelashes, and her pageboy bob was totally black — except for the decorative spritz of blue or magenta she applied on alternate days. And everything she wore was black leather or spandex or had a ridiculously frilly lingerie look — and was plastered to her skinny body like skin. Placing Sally anywhere that she shared the visual field with Teela was unfair to her, because the scrawny girl made her look like a hippo — but it was a common sight, anyway; they went just about everywhere together.