STORM By Beta Smith
Katharine awoke from her early evening sleep, the shrieking of her alarm clock pricking her from a fragmented dream and half-awake plotting of the evening ahead. It was eight o'clock, and time was still plentiful. Having lived in Madrid for six months now, she was used to nights that started an hour before midnight and stretched way into the start of the next day. Her hand darted out to silence the alarm then slipped between her thighs where it had been resting through her sleep.
Brigitte had said she would be round about ten. Katharine figured she had plenty of time for washing, dressing and perhaps grabbing a snack before setting out to town. The friends had no plans, preferring to go wherever their moods took them. Katharine was keen on trying an outdoor nightclub she had read about in a listings magazine that week, a suburban hangout with a swimming pool and patio bars. It sounded like fun.
Katharine's fingers traced between her thighs, half-thinking of where she wanted to go and half-thinking about her friend. She had met Brigitte when she first came to Madrid in February, both women coming to the city to teach English, and they hit it off immediately. They complemented one another nicely, Katharine as thoughtful and enigmatic as Brigitte was loud and brash and confident. So confident, thought Katharine, so aware of what she wants in life and how she wanted to please herself. Katharine found that attitude sexy, and closed her eyes to concentrate on thoughts of Brigitte.
Music started from the flat below, a low house beat and bass. Katharine's fingers pulled up to her mound, slightly moist from sweat. The heat in the city was still rising, getting ever closer to the skin, everyone still hoping for a storm that never came. The fresh sweat had mixed with Katharine's juice, which she softly scooped from herself to slowly suck from her finger, smooth over her top lip, enjoying the fresh taste. She looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror on the other side of the room, and pushed back the white sheet that enshrouded her to take in the sight of herself, naked, brown from the sun, her legs spreading, her cunt opening. When she dipped her finger back in for more juice, her clit hardened immediately, waiting for a touch, but Katharine resisted the temptation. She wanted to keep herself heightened for the evening, and for Brigitte.
After a cooling bath and some food, it was about half past nine when Katharine started to dress. She laid out some potential outfits on her bed, thinking how much more she had started to consider her clothes since meeting Brigitte. When Katharine had left London she was still wearing the clothes she had worn when a student, the usual array of loose jeans and shirts which, although practical, had done nothing to accentuate her figure. Boyfriends had never considered to encourage more feminine dress, afraid that they might offend Katharine. It wasn't until she had been dressing to go out with Brigitte one evening, one on of their first nights out together, that Brigitte had told Katharine that she had a wonderful body, why conceal it, why not show it off? With a little trepidation, Katharine had let Brigitte dress her in her own clothes, first selecting items of underwear and then a well-cut dress which Katharine felt has been made for her, so well did it curve round her boyish breasts and slim hips and slender legs. Brigitte took much time to dress her new friend, the pair of them finding the experience so sensual they did it all over again, but this time in reverse, Brigitte peeling her clothes off Katharine's body until she was naked again, and ready to eat.
Katharine could hardly dress, standing in her half-lit bedroom now, replaying that first encounter together, which had been Katharine's first. Brigitte was the more experienced one, and it was her who first trailed her wet lips up the length of Katharine's inside leg, nestled her mouth over Katharine's pussy and ate her steadily, brushing her hot tongue over Katharine's flesh until she came, came many times.
'You're like a boy I want to dress up in girl's clothing,' Brigitte had said to Katharine as she had taken her underwear to dress Katharine in. 'Does that sound strange?'
'Yes, but intriguing,' replied Katharine. 'You're full of surprises.'
'Damn right,' Brigitte grinned and clasped Katharine's ankles gently. Katharine clenched, but relaxed as she got used to the sensation. Brigitte stroked her ankles, a vague tease, before slipping her feet into her own little red lace panties. Katharine looked at them as her friend pushed them slowly up her legs. She had never worn such underwear, but loved the dirty feeling of them and the anticipation as Brigitte's hands wandered along her thighs and up to her hips.
'You need dressing up,' whispered Brigitte as she pulled the panties tight over Katharine's slit, quite visible under the flimsy material. 'I want you to look like a lady.' Katharine gasped with every pull of the panties against her, feeling hotter, more receptive, as Brigitte gently bit the insides of her thighs and took in the sweet, musty aroma of Katharine.
When the doorbell rang, Katharine sat up with a start. She had slumped into a chair in replaying the dressing up scene over and over again and now it was nearly ten and her friend was here to collect her. Katharine slipped on a dressing gown, ran to the door and pressed the intercom to let her friend in. Brigitte soon appeared from the stairwell, smiling broadly and opening her arms wide for an embrace. 'Katharine, lazy girl!' she boomed. 'Always sleeping!' Katherine hugged and kissed her friend on both cheeks and let her in. 'I'm ready, darling,' she replied, 'I just have to dress.' 'Well, make it quick, said Brigitte. 'I've had such a dull day and I'm determined to enjoy myself. There's a taxi outside.' Katharine told Brigitte to pour herself a drink and wait in the front room while she pulled some clothes on. Clothes. Dressing up. Pure sexual energy ran through Katharine's brain like lightning, causing the hairs on her arms to stand up and a pounding that ran through her belly and down to her now aching pussy, which she could feel moistening with every thought and sight of Brigitte.
Brigitte shouted her conversation from the front room between mouthfuls of vodka while Katherine dressed herself, although not really listening. Her mind was focused on Brigitte's entrance, her outfit having burned its image on to her brain, pushing reason and sobriety aside. Brigitte was wearing something guaranteed to make heads turn. Her beautiful, strong legs were topped and tailed in shorts and strappy sandals, the shorts so short they strapped her ass tight and so white her pubic hair was visible underneath the material, a moistening triangle on view, if one dared look. It was quite obvious to anyone to dared look that Brigitte had not bothered with underwear, preferring the feel of the shorts against her cunt. A matching tiny white top matched the look, making Brigitte look so sexual and so available Katharine, for a moment, feel like a guy who had hired her for the night. And when that thought popped into Katharine's head she only then smiled to herself and allowed her to relax into the fantasy. She allowed herself one last stroke of her now dripping pussy, and dressed herself, slipping into hold-up stockings, even though the night was warm, so she could turn on Brigitte in the same way Brigitte had thrilled her to the very core.
Katharine emerged from her bedroom to find Brigitte balanced on the edge of the sofa, a drink in one hand and a joint in the other, gently rocking from side to side, smiling again. 'You look lovely as ever,' said Brigitte. 'Smoke?' Katharine took the spliff from Brigitte's fingers, their eyes locking for a moment as the butt burned between them. 'Your fingers are wet,' remarked Brigitte. Katharine's mouth pursed into a wicked smile and she tossed her sleek red hair away from her flushed face to take the spliff and smoke it, letting her eyes trail to the sight of her Brigitte's fit body on her sofa, feeling her heart expand and her head constrict, getting happy and high with the smoke and the anticipation of what might happen in the coming hours.
'Kiss me,' Katharine said, surprising herself with being so forward.
'I'll make you wait,' said Brigitte, ever the tease, again in control. Without saying a word, she took Katharine's hand and sought the fingers she had been exciting herself with. Brigitte's mouth closed over a damp finger, flicked it with her tongue and then withdrew.
'The taxi's still waiting outside,' said Brigitte. The girls left the flat and stepped outside, feeling the hot, sweet air of the city summer night on their faces.
In the taxi, Katharine rifled through her bag whilst Brigitte took in the sights of the city as the car glided through it. All lights and all people, although nowhere near its busiest point. Katharine had said she wanted to go to the club with the swimming pool, and Brigitte agreed.
Katharine pulled out a lipstick from her bag and searched for a mirror.
'Here, allow me,' Brigitte replied in mock-courteous tones, and pulled a lipstick from her own bag. She applied it to Katharine's mouth, sure and steady as the taxi bumped over cobblestones, careful not to smudge, rubbing a fingertip against Katharine's full lower lip. Her fingernail and then finger slipped into Katharine's mouth, which sucked it in delightfully and bit it gently. When Brigitte's finger was wet, she took it from Katharine's mouth, slid it under Katharine's crisp white shirt and wettened a nipple, tweaking it between thumb and forefinger. 'Please kiss me,' implored Katharine, so heavy with lust that her question sounded desperate. It looked for a moment as if Brigitte would reject her again, but instead she stretched a long neck and opened that full mouth to offer a glistening tongue to Katharine. Katharine closed her eyes, tipping back her head to let her cinnamon-coloured hair stream from her head, and the two women's tongues met, almost tentative at first, but soon finding a rhythm, punctuated by tantalising grazing of lips, then tempered sucking of each others' tongues. When Katharine opened her eyes again, the car had stopped. 'Disco,' the driver muttered.
When inside the disco, the two women could not wait to explore further, almost forfeiting a welcome drink from a girl on rollerblades holding a tray at the entrance to the disco, so eager were they to find a private place. Once the drinks were taken and the friends were walking into the club, Brigitte turned to look at the girl on the rollerblades. 'Gorgeous, isn't she?' Brigitte remarked to her friend. 'Look at her.'
'Don't you want me?' Katharine asked, slightly hurt.
'I'll show you how much very soon, baby. I want you like you don't know.' She sighed and looked at the waitress again. 'But you have to admit that girl has a fucking lovely pair of tits...' Katharine laughed, because her friend was sounding like a man, and when she thought about it, there was something undeniably desirable about that kind of assertiveness.
They got to the bar, sat on stools and ordered their favourite drinks. Two men standing at the bar opposite were watching them, fascinated by their glazed looks of meditation upon each other. Katharine caught their looks and crossed her legs again, only slower, letting them get a glimpse of her snatch under underwear which barely pretended to conceal it, which oozed the last vestiges of come through its lace material. She sat back slightly, parting her strong legs to the men, biting on her lower lip. Brigitte, sensing the tease, outrageously trailed her hand up Katharine's thigh briefly, before taking her hand and leading her for a walk to the toilets. I know what's going to happen, thought Katharine, I know what, and her eyes glazed.
In a cubicle, Katharine and Brigitte kissed for long minutes, their tongues dry at first, then moistening, until they could exchange droplets of saliva, the beads twinkling and half-observed through almost closed eyes. Brigitte loved to trace her long tongue over Katharine's top lip, teasing until Katharine clutched the nape of her neck to gulp her, electricity running through her body in tiny shocks. Katharine kissed so deeply, so eager for more and more of Brigitte's generous mouth. 'Eat me,' she asked. 'Now. Please. I can't wait any longer.' And without delay, Brigitte squatted, feeling the material of her shorts pull taut over her cunt, snagging on its tucks and folds. Her head tipped back and Katharine, with trembling fingers, pulled open her lips to give Brigitte access to her pounding flesh, the hard little ball of her clit shining in the yellow light. Brigitte's eyes were wide open and looking up as she thrashed her lips over the clit, watching Katharine's face contorting and twisting, feeling the firm ball in her mouth, like a pea, firing up with her every suck, slowly draining this beautiful girl away. Katharine was starting to crumple as the woman below her relentlessly fired away, every stroke of her tongue like a flame that weakened her, that fuelled waves in her belly, which spread throughout her body, surge upon surge, until she came, her whimpers echoing, half-wondering if anyone could hear her climax..
Brigitte smiled, licking juice from her lips, seriously turned on now, but content to wait for her own climax later into the night. 'I could do with a drink,' she said. Katharine was still shivering with the aftershocks as the storm that everyone had been waiting for finally arrived outside. Sheltered in the cubicle, stroking each other in the afterglow, the two friends listened to the clouds opening and the rain which started to crackle like electricity. The storm, finally, had arrived, and they weathered it holding each other, suddenly vulnerable as the thunder boomed to its own climax.
Copyright 1999 Beta Smith