Bee Sting, Part 4
It had been a week since that amazing afternoon. I didn't think I'd ever stop cumming -- to have my beautiful Lissa grinding against me as I fingered myself... after about an hour or so of riding this ever-crashing, ever-changing surf, I began to think that somehow my body had morphed into a state of eternal orgasm. Which brought me back to reality: picking up Kayla whilst twisting and moaning might look bad. So Lissa went back home, and I went about my... life... (sigh)
Sleepover! Apparently, the kids had been playing on the swing set while I was erranding (NO swimming without an adult present), and Kaylee had asked Lissa if she could sleep over. Lissa had immediately assented, ("my Mom doesn't care!"), and now Kaylee was asking me.
Trying to still my beating heart, I replied casually. "Is it OK with her mother?"
"She says her Mom doesn't care."
"Well, I do, and I still want to hear it from the horse's mouth."
"From her mother."
"Oh. Okay." And Kaylee went tearing out back to inform Lissa of this condition. I watched them. Kaylee had my dark blonde hair and fair complexion, and my size, too: she was already almost a foot taller than 10-year-old Lissa, and her dance training gave her straight-backed posture an inch more. Lissa, though, was naturally muscular: her tanned tummy muscles rippled, and her little bubble butt jutted out saucily. And one could tell, even in this little unheard exchange, that Lissa was Boss. She leaned on one foot, head tilted, as Kaylee explained, then seemed to point at Kaylee as she responded. Kaylee put her hands up, as if to say, "it's not my idea," at which Lissa made a face, looked up at the window with a slight smile, then headed off to her own house at a jaunty trot.
The afternoon and evening were filled with pool fun, games of "Operation", "Hungry Hungry Hippo" and Go Fish, and a movie ("The Princess Diaries"). Every so often Lissa would give me a look -- her eyes would widen slightly and her mouth would open -- or she'd sigh subtly. But we were both very aware that Kaylee was her host, and her friend, and I was not about to let my own perverse desires intrude, in any way, upon my daughter's life. Then the girls went to bed.
Not to say I didn't feel a slight sadness, even dare-I-say-it Jealousy?? Good Lord. Jealous of my own 11-year-old daughter for getting to go to bed with her 10-year-old friend... nothing wrong with that!! But I did harbor some small, helpless hope of a visit in the night? Maybe?
I got into my own solitary bed and picked up my reading (I liked Patricia Highsmith's "Ripley" series). The sound of muffled laughter from across the hall. I put down my book. Some bumping, then more laughter. I picked up the remote and clicked the TV on. The minutes droned by...
Ahh, sleepovers. Those two across the hall reminded me so much of me and Tina. Even though Lissa, as the smaller, seemed to be the dominant figure. I was definitely dominant over my little Tina...
In summers, Tina spent the night at our house probably every other night. It sure seemed that way. Her mother was a bit neurotic, so having me over there kind of overwhelmed her, whereas having Tina out of her hair for the night seemed a relief. My own parents were pretty hands-off, so we were as free to pursue our own adventures as we were during the daytime.
And those adventures continued the same theme, generally: dominance, submission, nakedness, exploration... the difference, I suppose, was in the genre, or plot. Where the day brought pirates and slaves, the nighttime involved romance, drama, wrestling -- and of course nakedness.
Oddly enough, Tina would be the one to initiate our wrestling bouts. We would be lying in my queen-sized bed, watching TV, or chatting, whatever, and she would suddenly jump on top of me, usually straddling my middle, and begin telling me all sorts of hateful stuff. She was something, my Tina. Here was this cute little 7 or 8-year-old, in her unicorn or My-Little-Pony pink jammies (she wore pink everything), sitting on top of me and snarling something like, "You will never see your babies again, because I hid them! Because you are mean, and you always, always hit me, and, and you are always mean! So you will never find your babies!!"
And she would pummel me a bit, until I rose up in anger and outrage. "What??! My babies??! Ohh, now you're going to get it!" And so we would start wrestling -- I would flip her off me, she would hang on, I would manhandle her... and though I outweighed her, she was a tough little thing. Every hold I'd achieve would be well-earned.
But eventually, my size and strength would begin to tell -- and that's when I'd start tugging at her pajamas. It was actually a pretty hardcore scene we were enacting in our relative innocence: that of an enraged woman who taunts her abusive 'husband' until he goes nuts and pretty much ends up raping her. If I had had a penis, who knows? Because I was aware, even then, of how turned on this whole thing got me. God, I loved playing with Tina!
And, unlike the indignant 'slave girl' of the light, this hard-hearted woman Tina was portraying knew what she'd gotten herself into -- and, by the time I began ripping off her clothes, she'd developed a heated taste for it, too.
So she'd be facedown, and I'd be yanking at her pink little jammie bottoms, maybe growling about how she "was in so much trouble now," and she'd be breathing hard, still taunting maybe, "yeah? oh yeah?" And she's trying to pull them back up, but I hold her arms together with one arm, and then I tug -- and pull -- and get a grip on the crotch of her bottoms and yank the whole thing down to her knees! And she's pushing her little bottom up, and scrunching it in, bucking away... and then I give that white little butt a Smack! "Behave, you!" Enough to really sting -- but she's way into her role, and she just looks back at me with hatred in her big eyes. But she calms down...
So then I'd whisk the jammie bottoms all the way off -- I might give her bare bottom a hard squeeeze -- and then roughly turn her over. She's breathing heavy -- a lot of effort, wrestling me with her petite little bod -- but she gets up enough energy to hiss out more invective. Maybe "I hate you!" or "Go to hell!" or "You are so stupid!"
Enough to rile me up anew. And here's where I really can't believe sometimes how all-out we went. "Alright, you asked for it!" And I'd push her knees apart, kneel between them, and then throw her little legs up, and out. So far, and she was so flexible, that I'd be pushing at the backs of her knees about a foot away from each ear. Our faces are inches away from each other. We're both breathing heavy.
I lean in even more, to mash my nose against hers. "You stay like this. I wanna get naked, and make you watch." I stood up on the bed in front of her. "If you move, you'll be sorry."
And she stayed, her jammy tops pushed up to her neck, her chest and belly rubbed and blushing red, her legs hanging way out all by themselves, as she watched me with an open, panting mouth. Her bare little cunt was moist, and also deep red.
I kept my eyes locked on hers, and quickly pulled down my own jammie bottoms, panties, and top. The feeling of getting naked in front of a completely subjugated Tina was wonderfully naughty, and I was just starting to sprout as well, which made me feel even more powerful.
In my fantasies now, I grab her head and grind my wet pussy into her little mouth, making her squeal with anger and lust. But -- we weren't even teenagers, we had no idea of sex, per se. I think we both were aware that this playing was awesome, and made us feel Very Good, in ways that were rather mysterious to us. But we kept at the exploration, and it was good.
Now naked, I knelt in front of my open Tina. "I should beat you up really, really bad."
She looked up at me like a caged wildcat. With its feet over its head. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I laid my finger against her open slit. It was like a raw little wound. And pretty wet. I ran my finger up and down, feeling the slithering bumps and valleys. I watched her swallow and bite her lower lip. I pushed my finger in a bit more, and ran it up and down.
She bared her teeth and whispered, "you are so stupid."
Such a tiny voice for such large effect: for some reason, that did make me mad, and I frigged her. That's what it was, even though I had no idea of it, or its nature. I just did what I'd been doing, but faster, harder, and longer. All the while murmuring roughly, "Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?"
And little Tina, her eyes surprised, but still in character, opened her mouth wide, and began breathing in pants. And she was hissing to each of my queries: "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Until she started saying "Ohh!" instead of "Yeah!"
I just thought it was part of the game, these "ohh's", even picked up the pace and pressure, until Tina's feet came down all of a sudden, and she thrust her hips right up. Also, her little cunty was not just wet now, but kind of oily, and slick. It was really easy to frig her very fast, which I was now doing, a little unsure of the game now, but fascinated at Tina's total involvement.
Her mousy little voice very strongly crying out, "Oh! ohhHHh! Ooooh, Jen, I'm...Jen, JEN!!" Then her hips fell, and she looked at me in stupified astonishment. We looked at each other for quite a few seconds.
I leaned in and put my hands on her knees. "Are you okay?"
She could only look at me and nod weakly. After about a minute more of us breathing, she whispered, "what the heck?"
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