Cherry Lip Gloss

Vegas baby…Vegas. Saturday night. Not like it matters in the city of sin, not like I could keep track in the labyrinth of casinos threaded together by a glistening yellow brick road of slot machines. I was only vaguely aware of it being Saturday because that’s the night I had plans to meet friends at The Rainbow Connection. Apparently they had a stellar drag show on Saturday nights. Chicks with dicks you can’t imagine where they put them! Tits so perky they look like they’re trying out for the cheerleading squad! Abs so well-defined someone in a third world country could use them to wash their laundry in a river!

The effect of transitioning from bright desert sun to dark seedy bar was blinding. I put the heart-shaped sunglasses back on my head, raking my raven hair. It’s always bliss escaping the blistering dry heat. I couldn’t even brush my hair that morning from the static it created, I merely could finger the knots out while waiting for my macchiato; lick the tip of my ring finger and reconstitute the eyeliner that was still on from the night before but was now giving me the illusion of having black eyes.

It’s a stark contrast coming in and out of buildings in Vegas. Day and night having no say between the profane and urbane. A smattering of neon lights over the monotone beige of the desert glitter and flash all hours of night and day making the distinction superfluous. No sleep. No rest for the wicked. My experience of Vegas had already been that of escaping the light in pursuit of deeper, darker, more nefarious, rouge-colored, smoke-filled rabbit holes.

I clocked my friend immediately after my eyes adjusted to the darkness of The Rainbow Connection. She was sitting at a high top table abutting the currently lifeless dancefloor among a variety of friends I didn’t know or particularly care to know. But Gemma noticed me and her eyes sparked as if by flint rock. She waved for me, her face radiant in the sparce bar light, green eyes alight, her breasts heaving under a nondescript top. I felt that rush that went from my heart to my clit whenever I saw her and knew in an instant the drive was worth it.

I wanted Gemma the moment I saw her, the moment she came into my bar in East L.A. Sometimes I wondered if it was because she was the only one of her kind that drew me to her. Gemma was an educated, pale, blonde goddess of European descent.

But I knew what I was. I was the diversion on an endless spring break that only white privilege can afford. I was the lesbian bartender, descended from Latin Kings, that dropped out of nursing school, that would just be a pitstop on her way to a serious (and probably heterosexual) relationship. She was slumming with me.

Introductions were made between me and the group, perfunctory niceties, a round of drinks were ordered and then another. The circulating waitresses were flagged down for Jell-o shots and then for their array of glowing test tubes filled with different flavors organized by color but somehow uniformly resembled some form of radioactive ooze. Lights were dimmed, others flashed for effect, drawing our eyes to the stage.

Glitter. Sequence. Feathers. Dramatic makeup that reached their eyebrows in a better impression of Pogo the Clown than any female I knew save the cholas that would come sleazing around my bar cruising for tricks. Pageantry, bustiers, corsets, rainbows, and gay! So much gay! It’s white dudes spearheading the LGBTQAI+ movement because it’s white men who have to prove they own the monopoly on everything, even femininity and the gay identity. Rub it in everyone’s face ‘til they have to accept their way of life. I’ve never seen things work that way. Being a lesbian has its own pitfalls, because it’s somehow the only universally accepted form of gay. It’s accepted because straight white men think it’s for their entertainment, as if every gay woman is faking it, as if we’re all gay until we find that one magical dick that turns us. That’s not how shit works either. That being said, Gemma was supposedly straight and I had every intention of eating her pussy that night.

The finale. Lights go out and then dimly return. Small talk. The crowd disperses as the queens retreat to their green room. The bar thins, her friends leave. It’s just her and I as if I orchestrated the whole thing. Life manifested from fantasy. I noticed our bodies getting closer. Doubt crept into my mind for a fleeting second. She just wants to be friends. It’s hard to hear in this bar. But no, she had a chance to leave with her friends but didn’t. That was promising, wasn’t it? I wanted her but I didn’t want to make an ass of myself.

She laughed at something I said. Her hand touched my arm before wiping the sweat off her beer and I felt that familiar rush—my pussy becoming wet and engorged as images of sitting on her beautiful face danced in my head. She brushed some hair back over my shoulder, casually mumbling some weak justification as she did. This was a dance I was familiar with—the one where they seem hesitant or unsure but ultimately come to you. She was giving me an opening. I knew now she wanted it. She just didn’t know what to do next. She was out of her depth. This was an away game for her. I wanted to leave the question on her lips a little longer. A psychological cat-and-mouse. The longer I withheld, giving her an inch at a time, the wetter she’d be for me.

I brush her hair away this time, giving no justification as she felt she needed to. My hand stops behind her neck and I draw her to me a little closer. She succumbs to me with no resistance. She’s supple. She’s waiting. Her eyes move over my face, dodging between my eyes and my lips, expectant. My hand traces her jaw to her chin. I run a thumb across her lips. They’re perfect—pink, voluptuous and moist, a mimic of the ones below. I ease my thumb into her mouth to see what she’ll do with it. Her eyes close as she wraps her lips around it, her tongue flicking the tip of my thumb. For half a second I wished I had a real cock.

A hunger overcoming me, I kiss her neck and then bite it gently. Her mouth opening slightly, emitting a moan. I grab under her chin and kiss her on the lips. I kiss her as if I won’t be given another chance. Soft but firm, gentle but deep, passionate and wet. I sift through her hair and grab her at the base of her ponytail. Oh, I’m going to devour you, bitch, I thought as my hands traveled from her straw-colored hair, down to her chest.

I took a half-step back as my fingers traced her breasts as slowly and lightly as I could. I could see her nipples harden under her shirt. I flick them with my thumb and massage the soft, tender, round tissue. Her lips upturned toward mine, she moves to kiss me again. This was part of the game too. Maybe she kissed some girls in college, maybe she even liked it. Maybe she wanted more even then. But I wanted to establish dominance. My hand goes swiftly from her tits to her throat. I hold her aloft, squeezing gently.

“You’re mine,” I whisper in her ear. “You understand?” I ask gently, stroking her hair.

Another moan. She nods.She’s puddy now. She’s mine for the taking.

My eyes search the room for a new location and I find it in a u-shaped red pleather booth, partially hidden behind a set of drapes.

“Come,” I command.

She follows me like a well-bred mutt, eager, ravenous, curious at what I’ll do or say next. I sit and gesture for her to sit on my lap. She eases onto my lap, legs astride mine, her face angled down to kiss me, her tits in my face, her hair a dripping blonde curtain, her smell intoxicating. Her breasts heaved as her heart raced underneath. My hands slipped to her lower back. She bit her lip as she inched her crotch closer to mine. One hand snuck into the back of her jeans, the other trickled to her shoulder and forced her down on me. I could feel the warmth from her pussy, pulsing and radiating sexual energy. She gyrated instinctively as I kissed her deeply, both hands now in the seat of her pants. I pulled at her panties, clawed at her ass. She bit my lip and it incited me further. My hands trickled up her spine and tugged at her bra. I felt up and down her sides, my hands resting momentarily just under the wiring of her bra before sneaking under.

She was soft. Oh God, so soft. Her nipples were small and sensitive. She continued to grind in my lap, her body taunting, begging, pleading for more. My lips never leaving hers, I unbuttoned her jeans.

“No,” she meekly protested. “Shhhhh,” I assured her, looking around to make sure no one was nearby to police our licentious behavior.

She kissed the nape of my neck and nibbled my ear. I watched her face as my hand slowly reached into her jeans, the tips of my fingers sliding between her lips, expertly finding her clit. She was sooooo wet. She was wet enough to let me do anything to her, whatever I wanted. This was all new for her. She wanted me to give it to her and goddam it she had no idea how much I intended to. I was going to give her the ride of her life. I wanted to make her cum so hard, she’d swear off men forever or at least until I’d had my fun with her!

I felt her clit tense under my touch. I put a single finger inside and she gripped it. She was tight. I continue to finger her with my index and thumb as she writhes in my hands, her tits in my face. I suck at the flesh of her cleavage, leaving a mark. She groans, audible pleasure. 

“Oh God,” she said breathily in my ear and I knew she was going to cum. She groans intensely, gripping me.

“Oh Gooooood…fuck!”

“Mmmmm cum for me baby,” I whisper, coaxing. “You like that?”

“Oh yes, oh yes,” she whimpers. “Oh God yes…”

I felt her cum at my fingertips, felt her quiver and moan. She put a hand at my wrist supposedly for me to stop.

“Oh fuck oh fuck yes yes yes wait wait oh god…” she half-heartedly protested.

“You want me to stop?” I taunted, sticking two fingers in that tight pussy deeper and harder, hitting her g-spot.

“Oh no oh god no mmmmm…” I felt her cum again and again.

“Mmmmm you’re my dirty little whore aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whined, silk in my hands.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?”

“Oh God yes…” She said before kissing me again deliberately and hungrily.

One of the managers appears.

He tells us we have to leave. We inform him that we were already leaving.

“…You should’ve been paying us for the free show buddy!” I defended on my way out.

We drunkenly make our way across town to my room at one of the more popular casinos. In the backseat of the rideshare, I smell my fingers. She sees me, takes my hand and puts my fingers in her mouth, tasting herself. God, she knew what she was doing.

My nipples were hard. Fucking sploosh.

I barely get the door open to the room—those stupid fucking plastic keys!—and shut the door behind us before she grabs me and kisses me. She practically rips my jacket off and then she begins to take my shirt off.

“Nuh huh,” I tell her, pulling her hands away. I put my hands around her, feeling her body against mine. Her lips on mine, her ass cheeks filling my hands, I back her up to the bed. I take her shirt off, revealing her push up bra. She starts to take my shirt off.

“No,” I stop her again, letting her know I’m in full control.

I undo her pants again and guide them to the floor. She steps out. Lace panties, soaked with her cum. I inch them down as I feel her tremble in anticipation. She undoes her bra from behind as my hands go under to feel their tenderness. My hand drifts from her hip to her clit again as I put one of her fat tits in my mouth. Her hands in my hair and aimlessly caressing my body.

She is hot. Ripe, like a red luscious apple. I bite a little, looking up into her eyes to see the effect it would have. She inhales sharply letting me know when it’s enough. I kiss her on the lips again before turning her around.

I feel her body again. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I cup her breasts in my hand and she turns her head to kiss me again. I knock her down so she’s bent over, palms on the bed. I take my top off, take my pants off.

“You stay the fuck there,” I command.

I go into my duffel bag of treasures and grab my strap-on. A set of black and floral panties with a purple silicon dick attached. I pull them on, adjusting the 7 inch shaft to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere. I take the head of it and rub it against her clit. She’s so wet, her juices are dripping down her leg. She undulates underneath me, desperate for me to stick it in.

I stick it in her slooooowly, filling every last inch of that tight little pussy. I know she’s going to like the ride. She gives a great inhalation when it’s all the way in.

“Oh shit!” she exclaims.

I take it slowly out again and then aaaaaalll the way in, deeper this time. Each thrust, going a little faster, a little deeper, a little harder.

“Oh my God that feels amazing!”

“Yeah?” I say, pulling her by her hair, so her back is arched, angling the dick deeper still. “You like it when I fuck you baby?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh God Yes! Keep fucking me, please don’t stop! I’m gonna….I’m gon…”

I grab her by her hips and slow down again, easing all the way in and all the way out. I can see her adorable soft pink tits bouncing as I fuck her. I even like watching my own dark, tatted, pierced ones jiggle as I thrust into her.

“You’re going to what, baby doll? You’re gonna what?”

I slap her on the ass and then thumb her asshole as I thrust harder and faster into her, until she’s screaming.

“I’m cumming! Oh God I’m cumming! Fuck me so good daddy! Harder! Yes! Fuck me! Ooooooohhhh Goooooooodddd!!!”

I keep going. I thrust rhythmically into her as she screams and cries and makes horrible faces and rolls her eyes back in ecstasy.

Then I pull out and give her another smack on the ass.

“Lay on the bed, face up,” I dictate. Because now she wants whatever it is I’m going to give her, she does as she’s told like a good little girl.

I take off the strap-on panties, then I climb onto the bed with her. I lay beside her a moment to allow her to catch her breath. My hands dance over her pelvis, her navel, between her two mountainous tits, her arm pit which she flinches to cover. She must be ticklish there.

I roll on top of her, our lady parts overlapping. This is her turn to feel my body, my ass, my tits, all of me. I crawl up and start to straddle her face but she doesn’t protest. Quite the opposite. She wraps her hands around my thighs as if she had done this before. It wasn’t until she mal-adroitly tried to lick my pussy that I knew for sure she hadn’t.

I threw my hair up in a messy bun, gyrating on her face to try to make her tongue motions work but nothing doing. She would need coaching which was its own kind of hot.

“Find my clit. It’s higher, little to the left. Good. Now, not so much. With the tip of your tongue. Flick it.” I start at how quickly and adeptly she takes instructions. “Oh that’s good. Mmmmm that’s real good. Good girl. Now rotate your tongue in a…mmmmm fuck…” She knew what I was going to say. She rotated clockwise, counterclockwise, up and down until I felt that bubbling sensation in my core and my asshole tighten. This bitch was going to make me cum. “SHIT!” I pinch my nipples, feeling the orgasm take hold of me like a tidal wave of ecstasy, the euphoric tides rolling from my pussy outward.

“FUCK!” I say in one succinct, powerful, exclamation. I was used to cumming pretty easily but she was better than I thought she’d be.

“Mmmm that…was very good,” I say as I dismount, kissing her and tasting my pussy on her lips. Sweet, like cherry lip gloss.

I crawl to the bottom of the bed. “Your turn,” I say, licking my lips. I put my face between her legs, wrap my arms around her thighs and yank her down further into my mouth. I trace her lips with my tongue and nibble her labia. I lick her clit with a flat tongue before sucking on it lightly. My tongue plays with her, her body arching and writhing in pleasure. My hands come up to her breasts. I grab them and squeeze them as I do that same flicking, rotating set of motions on her clit, I’d instructed her to do. But better.

“Oh God!” she shouts. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m uuuuuhhhhh….”

I stick my pinky in her pussy, make sure it’s good and wet. Then I stick two fingers in her pussy and the pinky (lubed up with her pussy juices) in her ass all the while continuing to suck that perfect little clit.

“Fuuuuuuuuuccckkkk!!!!” I’m playing her like a fiddle now. I take my fingers out slowly and then force them in fast and hard. I do this several times in a row, getting immense pleasure from her gasps every time I do. “Oh my GOD! Nobody has ever made me cum like this!”

I resurface, a grin stretching across my face that I imagined resembling something like the one the Grinch dons before he steals Christmas. I look at my masterpiece—a spent Barbie doll wet and raw from cumming so hard consecutively. She laid there, spent, trying to catch her breath. I was almost done but not quite. I wanted to fuck her one more time and I wanted to get fucked. I went into my duffel bag again for my double-sided dildo and my bullet vibrator.

I inserted one end into her sopping wet pussy, “Oooooh,” she whined with pleasure. I thrust it in and out a few times, pushing as far as it would go, stopping only at her sharp inhalation. “Ow. Ooooohhh mmmmm…” I knew that feeling. I was hitting her cervix. It hurt so good.

I knelt and slowly sat on the other end of the dildo. I edged closer to her, our bent legs interlocked. She propped herself up on her elbows. From the looks of things, this was the best she could do. She was still shaking from cumming so much. I thrusted, the head moving awkwardly. She mirrored my motion, permitting simultaneous penetration.

Mmmmm it felt good, each thrust going deeper. I bent over and grabbed her by the back, pulling her to a seated position. I kept thrusting, watching the mild pain and elation play on her face. She licked my chest in between my smallish breasts and licked around my long coarse nipples before sucking on them and tugging at my rings.

“Mmmm suck harder,” I say. She does. “Mmmm bite them.” She does.

I hear the buzzing sound of the vibrator. She beat me to it. She buries it in my pussy, right on my clit. She’s a fast learner. She watches my face as I lean back, allowing myself to cum.

“Yes. Yes…Yes…Yes? Yes?! Mmmmm…Ooooooh you’re so beautiful. You’re so good! Uuuuuggghhhh…” The wave washes over me again, rolling climaxes over and over. I breath in through my teeth and emit a guttural groan of intense satisfaction. God I needed this. I needed her. Now that I had her, I wanted even more. She was addictive. She was heroine! Now that I had a taste, there was no going back! Not for me. Fuck!

We laid there, looking at each other, sweaty, breathing heavy, hair a mess, wet and raw. This was good. This was amazing, maybe even the start of something. But this was only one night. A fucking great night. The only one or the first of many. I guess we’ll see…