Part One — Karen's Narrative

Something foul smelling woke me up, that and the rubbing sensation on my face as well as the pressure on my chest. I opened my eyes just a crack. The slightest hint of a new day, the barest light that precedes the morning sunrise, pushed back the darkness of the night. I looked around at the room. Unmistakably a hotel room, it looked nothing like the one I had checked into the previous day. That one, non smoking, had contained one king sized bed, a large, wonderful playground for Evie and me, a place for us to snuggle next to each other and make love all night long. This one had two queens and ashtrays on the night tables. And that other bed was occupied as well.

I shivered as I realized that the ash tray next to me, full of cigarette butts, also contained a used tampon, unmistakably showing its success in containing my menstrual flow. I knew that I hadn't removed it or placed it in that ash tray, and the violation, the thought that this fucking bastard next to me had removed it from my body, made my blood boil.

I could identify the smell easily as that of dried perspiration on the groin of the man who had fucked me front and back sometime during the night. My eyes recognized the source of the rubbing sensation as his cock, waking me in order to be sucked. Again! The pressure on my chest had to be from his ass cheeks, which always followed his cock closely.

What I couldn't figure out was 'Why'. I mean, I knew why he had fucked me and why he wanted me to suck his cock. It was just something guys always want to do with women, and the one with the cock was a guy, while I am a woman. No, I guess the one word question should have been 'How', not 'Why'. How could I have let this guy into my bed — shit, it must be his bed, how could I have let him into my body every which way, leaving my ass really sore? My ass had been cherry as recently as yesterday. I couldn't believe that I had let him do me anally.

Him? That was all I could call him, for I had absolutely no recollection of what his name might be. Not his, nor the name of the other guy asleep in the next bed with Evie. The previous evening was sort of hazy. Evie and I had flown out here for a programmers' conference. Actually, Evie had come for the conference, I had come to keep her feet warm at night. After dinner, she and I had gone to the hotel bar for drinks. Sure enough, two guys, still wearing their Exhibitor badges, came over to our table to hit on us.

We've been hit on often enough. Evie is about five feet tall, a hundred and five soaking wet. She sports 34B breasts under a head with blonde pigtails. When she walks, her ass swings her rounded hips very gently. The average guy would call her exceptionally pretty. Because of my prejudice, I call her beautiful. As for me, I'm a little bit taller and bustier but not much. I'm not ashamed to look in the mirror, and guys trying to get into my pants have called me beautiful.

You may have figured out the Evie and I are what people would call lesbians. I phrase it in that circuitous way because I'm not one of those women who likes to fuck other women. To the contrary, I only fuck one woman, the woman who I love, my Evelyn. And since I hate all men, you can't call me bi-sexual, so the popular word for me would be lesbian. The same applies to Evie; a man-hater like me, and monogamous with yours truly. I'm Karen, by the way.

We let them sit with us and we had a lot of laughs. That was the mistake; they must have taken the laughing for teasing. I still couldn't remember the names of either one of them. The problem I think was caused by the fact that we had taken a very long flight to get to the conference and so were very tired; then we had too much to drink. And some of what we had to drink hadn't come from the bar, but apparently from a small bottle or packet hidden in one on their pockets, which must have been emptied into our drinks.

I hadn't had a cock inside my pussy since the second year of high school, and that had been Mom's boy friend of the evening, one of an ever-changing procession of strange cocks to service her needs and desires. Coincidentally, he had also been my first, ripping the shit out of my cherry without foreplay. It might have actually been fun if he had taken the trouble to seduce me instead of just jumping into my bed and forcing his cock into me while Mom slept off a bottle of wine. And all dear old Moms did the next morning when she saw the bloody sheets was to shrug. Because of him, and Mom too I'm almost positive, I began to hate all boys and men, especially the teachers who let it be known that my grades would miraculously increase in direct proportion to the amount of enthusiasm that I put into fellating their scrawny little cocks.

And then one day I saw Evie — short for Evelyn — in the girl's room, kneeling in front of a toilet and puking her guts out. I went to help her but she pushed me away; I could see her heaving and crying at the same time. Not willing to leave her alone, I leaned against the wall of the stall until she finally stood up, flushed and went to wash her face.

"What's the problem, Evie? Something you ate?"

She began to laugh hysterically. "Something I ate? You're fucking right it was. I ate that fucking Griffin's cock and swallowed his cum so that he'd raise my grade in Physics and then the bastard said that he wouldn't raise it unless I let him fuck me in the ass."

I was in the same class as Evie. She and I were the only two girls in that Physics class; the rest were all boys. Griffin had been sticking his cock into my mouth for three weeks before he started on Evie. Strangely, he had never tried to fuck my ass. I wondered if I should have been insulted by his interest in another girl or felt lucky because it would cut down on my mouth work.

"That no good fuck," I said. "I've been blowing him for weeks and I'm still waiting to see the new grades."

"What are we going to do, Karen?"

Long story short. The next time I sucked his cock, I had a recorder in my purse. The following day Evie and I showed him the recorder, gave him a duplicate copy of the tape, and told him that if he wanted to get blown by someone in that class, he would have to switch to one of the boys. End of problem.

But not the end of Evie and me. We became close friends and then more than that. Oh so much more than that, so very much more. It happened for the first time one Saturday morning at my house, when we were studying for a Spanish quiz. All of it was over my head; I didn't have the slightest idea how I would pass the exam. My head went down on my desk; I sobbed in frustration. Then I felt Evie behind me, her hands on my neck, massaging. And caressing.

I knew what was about to happen. Evie knew all of my emotions, my loves, my hates, my pet peeves, and also obviously my hatred of the male sex. The touch of her hands, soft, silky, sent my emotions rushing to the forefront, as well as my juices rushing to my pussy. I turned in my chair and put my head into her stomach, my hands around her waist, hugging her as my tears dried on her blouse. Her hands continued to massage my neck.

I reached up and brought one of her hands around to my lips. They kissed her palm and I looked up at her. Years of emotion passed between our eyes, like electric pulses jumping the gap of a switch. Years of laughter, of tears, of successes and failures, years of trust especially, and years of love too. Love that we hadn't even realized, had never expressed or even consciously considered, but love created out of friendship.

Evie bent to kiss me and I stood to meet her lips. The kiss, so soft yet our lips stuck like glue, felt like it would last forever. When I saw her eyes close, I shut mine also. I could hear our breaths over the low background music. My hands went around her back; I could feel her bra and forced myself to resist unsnapping it. Her hands held my face to hers, as if to prevent me from escaping. Then they dropped to my ass as she pulled my loins against her. I barely heard her whisper.

"Where's your Mom, Karen?"

"She never came home last night. This new one she's doing it with is a regular; she won't be home for hours."

Neither of us would speak again for another hour. I led her over to my bed where we kissed again. This time there was ferocity in the kiss; our tongues tangled, our lips smashed against each other, our noses bumped. Evie again pulled hard against my ass while my hands mangled her sweet breasts. I fumbled with the buttons of her blouse while she pulled my sweat shirt off over my head. With all the buttons undone, she let her blouse fall to the floor. We stood breast to breast, her white bra rubbing against my black. My pussy oozed; I was sure that hers did also. The kiss resumed, softer again.

Evie turned around so that her back faced me. I had never unhooked any bra except my own, yet I needed neither instruction nor help. The single hook opened easily; my hands on her shoulders pushed down the straps and the entire bra slid to the floor, joining her blouse. I laid a full open palm on each breast, barely touching them but still feeling her nipples harden. I pulled her around and bent to suckle on a nipple; she pulled my head tightly against her chest, moaning softly.

Her hand reciprocated with my own bra, which soon added to the rapidly growing wardrobe at our feet. I straightened up for yet another kiss, rougher this time, as our nipples pressed against each other. We rolled onto my bed and lay there, attached at the lips, our hands feeling each other's breasts like boys in a movie theater. We necked, as it were, topless, with neither of us wanting to be the first to touch below the waist. We kissed eyes, ears, necks and breasts, especially breasts.

My pussy was screaming for attention, for her fingers to do the job previously only reserved for my own. Evie wore slacks, in deference to the outside temperature. My fingers worked her belt rapidly, actually tore off the critical button and peeled down her slacks. She looked down at her panties and giggled at the dark damp spot covering her pussy. I knelt alongside her and slowly removed the last barrier.

Her damp pussy hair gleamed in the reflected light. Her aroma filled the room, that same scent that I give off when my fingers are giving me relief. Eating pussy is one of those things that a woman doesn't have to be taught; she knows instinctively how — and why — to do it, and I bent my head to begin. Evie closed her legs and shook her head. I understood; the fun would not begin until the last of my clothing left my body. I lay on my back so that she could do the honors.

Not having yet left the house that day, I wore shorts with an elastic waist band. Evie pulled them down in a single swipe. My pussy oozed as much as hers did, yet the black bikini panties hid any obvious spot. She ran a finger over me to find the wet spot, grinned and then ran the finger again, but harder. It was my turn to moan. My ass came off the bed so that she could peel off the panties.

Evie stared at my bush. One might say that she stared with lust, but I saw something else in her eyes, I saw love. At least I thought so. She stretched out next to me and we kissed, just as we had kissed when our pussies were hidden behind clothing. But this time our fingers explored, probed those private parts where cum is inserted to make babies.

My barrier cherry was long gone, courtesy of Mom's boy friend du jour. Evie was still a virgin, provided that you don't count sucking our teacher's cock, but she had admitted to me that her barrier had fallen to cucumber and fingers. Our lips were joined, our hands caressed breasts and nipples and our legs interlocked. We rubbed clits against thighs, the other's thigh substituting for our own fingers. My room reeked of sex; we loved it.

My orgasm came first, accompanied by my moaning; Evie was right behind me, her noise the sound of a whimper. Our legs separated but we remained attached at the nipples and lips as we allowed our bodies to cool down.

It took a while before Evie pulled away from me and began to nibble her way down my body toward my pussy. She nursed on my breasts with the tenacity of a baby before moving to my stomach with a series of little kisses. Her tongue stuck out to clean my belly button. Meanwhile, her hand preceded her mouth to my Holy Grail, two fingers sliding back and forth inside my wetness. Her thumb busily attacked my clit long before her mouth neared my pubic hair.

Not wishing to be the submissive, I reached down to grab her hips, bodily twisting her around and bringing her pussy down toward my face. I spread her legs so that her knees could straddle my face; when they hit the bed, her pussy sank against my mouth. Evie used her fingers to thread her way through my tangled bush and then to spread my labia; my body opened to her, pink and wet.

I on the other hand stretched out my arms so that my hands could caress Evie's lovely breasts and their hard-nipple centerpieces. My tongue had no help as it pressed its way inside her pussy. The aroma of sex hung in the air, raising arousal to mania. The world sat somewhere out there, unseen. In my room, on my bed, two rutting animals, females both, licked and sucked and bit and hummed and moaned. And then screamed; the soft noises of our usual orgasms gave way to the release of lesbian lust. Evie's fingers had triggered my occasional squirting, soaking her face and my bed.

We lay there quietly, still in our sixty nine position, trading cool-down licks of each other's bodies. When we were ready, we resumed our face to face. Before we fell asleep, I set my alarm for an hour; there was no sense in bring Mom into this situation before we had to. Spanish studying was forgotten. We both failed the quiz but managed to pass the course anyway.

When Mom got home that day, bowlegged from an evening and morning of fucking, my bed was made. Evie and I became regulars at eating and fingering each other, sometimes at her house but usually at mine, since Mom had no hesitation in spending the night with some guy she had just met.

My Mom, who is not your average American mother, found Evie and me one day when Evie was sitting on my face while I diddled my own clit. This is the Mom who, in our first mother-daughter talk about sex, said something about the fact that she had never met a cock she didn't like, almost in those words. Basically, she shook her head in disbelief. Her words were soft, calm.

"I didn't know my daughter was a carpet muncher. Guys are supposed to do the muff diving, not girls. You two ought to get yourselves some good cock."

Having exhausted her entire vocabulary concerning two women making love, she left the room. She never mentioned it again, but she always supported us when someone would make a comment. Those comments came from the fact that Evie and I never tried to hide our relationship. Male teachers abandoned their efforts to use us as fuck toys, though a couple of the female teachers hinted at it. We might have been tempted, but both Evie and I were monogamous right from the start. The boys and some of the girls made fun of us, but our attitude was 'fuck 'em.'

Although we knew of a few other lesbian couples, they stayed in the closet. Surely the school also had some gay guy couples, but I didn't know who they might have been. We were thus the only girl-girl combination at the Senior Prom, and wound up being voted the 'Couple Most Likely to Remain a Couple.' That felt nice, because we truly were deeply in love with each other. We went off to college together, sharing a room, and after graduation we shared an apartment together. We were in love, but never bothered with this gay marriage shit. Evie free-lanced as a computer programmer, I modeled underwear. It gets me a lot of propositions but I easily turn them away.

So there I was, naked in bed with some guy whose name I didn't know and he was flopping his cock against my face, trying to get me to open my mouth for it. I took his cock and used it to push him out of the way, halfway off the bed.

"NO! Go away, I'm not interested."

"You were last night, baby."

"I was not. I don't do cock, ever."

"We knew that before we sat down; we could tell you two were an item."

"So what did you have in mind? Did you want to be able to brag to your friends that you fucked a lesbian?" I spat it out at him. He said nothing, and I continued.

"What did you put in our drinks, you prick?"

"What do you care? It's harmless."

I started to swing at him but he grabbed my hand and held it tightly, away from him. All that did though was to divert his attention, so I drew my foot back and kicked him, with bare toes as stiff as possible, as hard as I could in his balls. He screamed — OK, he just yelled loudly — and Evie sprang bolt upright in the next bed. I saw her look around, see the prick still sound asleep next to her, see her naked breasts in the strange room. She pulled the sheet off her and a look of shock crossed her face; she later told me that it had been caused by the sight of dried cum on her pubic hair, a sign that a cock had violated her vagina for the first time in her life. The asshole in my bed, bent over and holding his jewels, ran for the bathroom.

"Grab you clothes, Evie. Let's go!"

Slacks and unbuttoned blouses. That's all we put on, the shoes and underwear were in our hands. As we headed toward the door, I grabbed wallets off both night tables. And two wedding rings. Understand now, I'm not a thief, I just thought that it would be a nice way to punish these fuckers, making them go through the trouble of getting new credit cards and drivers licenses, as well as explaining the missing rings to their wives at home. We looked at the door to find out what floor we were on, took the stairs and ran down three flights to our room.

We were both in tears. Inside our room, we held each other and kept crying.

"The bastards drugged us. The one in my bed even fucked my ass. Are you OK?" I asked her.

She sobbed through her tears. "I've never been fucked before, but my rear end feels OK. Let's call the police."

"Hold on a minute, Evie. First of all, they're going to claim that we consented, and it'll be our word against theirs. Secondly, most cops don't give a damn what happens to two lesbians. Unless one of the cops is a lesbian herself, they'll never even bother to check it out. And besides that, there is the fact that I took both of their wallets."

"Why'd you do that, Karen? We don't need their money."

"I took the wallets to give them grief. They're going to have to cancel every credit card in there and get new driver's licenses too. They may not even be able to get on an airplane to get home." I laughed at the thought.

We looked through the wallets, finding a treasure trove of goodies for an identity thief. Unfortunately, the cards would be voided as soon as the two fuckers realized that their wallets were gone. The cash totaled almost two thousand between them. While Evie showered and made ready for her conference, I put in a new tampon and made myself just presentable enough to avoid drawing attention. Then I walked down the stairs to the garage level and left the hotel that way. One wallet went into a city garbage can a half mile from the hotel, the other with both rings a quarter mile past that, and the cash went into the collection box of the first open church that I saw on the way back. I smiled at the thought of the shock they would get when they counted it. I didn't even care what they thought about lesbians.

Back at the hotel, I showered and dressed appropriately for a visitor to the Exhibitors' booths at the convention. Then I went looking for two faces that I thought I might recognize. Evie had made sure to avoid that area until I got back, and I assumed that they hadn't found her. But me they found, which was the plan. The badges identified the one who had fucked me as Todd, his pal was Glenn.

"You cunt, we've been looking for you." Todd's voice was low, but it had a snarl in it.

"Well, you've found me, prick." I said it with a smile, though he might have called it a smirk.

"Give us back our fucking wallets and rings," he demanded.

"Why, Todd — yes, it is Todd, I'm sorry, I had forgotten your name — I don't know whatever you might be talking about." I put on an obviously fake Southern drawl.

"We're going to call the police about both of you cunts," he threatened.

"To do what, Todd baby? To search our room for your wallets? Maybe to test our blood for drugs? Date rape drugs?" He was boiling and I was loving it. "I'll tell you what. Both of you pricks can search our room right now if you want. Just bring the convention chairman as a witness, and don't be surprised when we tell him what really happened. Oh, and by the way, do you pricks think that your wives will believe that the guys who mugged you for your wallets also took your wedding rings?"

It was hopeless and they knew it. Silently, Glenn left to start calling the credit card companies. Based on what I had seen in their wallets, he had a lot of calls to make.

Evie was quiet whenever I saw her that day, pensive even. At dinner I asked her about it.

"You're still thinking about last night, aren't you, Evie?"