Pete's Place

The coffee table was covered in open notebooks, her laptop, and piles of text books. Cowboy boots by the door. The HitFlix logo on the tv, as the screen shifts between suggested shows and movies.

The door closed behind us and Pete spun me between her and it. She wasted no time, pressing her lips to mine. My curious tongue explored her lips, finding the ring. “You like it?” she purred, before suppressing my chance to reply with her mouth.

Her touch burned up my sides as her hands swept under my shirt. She balled the hem in her fist, pulling me toward her and across the room. She released my shirt, it falling into place to hide my stomach as she sat on the couch. “I believe good apologies usually start on their knees,” she bit her lip, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” I said, lowering myself to the ground, maintaining eye contact, “I’m so sorry for how my mother acted towards you.” I placed my hands on her slacks covered thighs, “If there is any way to ease the pain and suffering caused,” I lowered my face, rubbing my cheek against her knee.

“Fuck, you’re good,” she said, “You’re actually queer aren’t you?”

I chuckled, “Yea? Did the offering sexual favors not give that away?”

“Honestly, I thought you were just a rich straight girl trying to piss off mommy. But your face is cute, so I wasn’t against grinding against it for a good time.”

I laughed, “Well, I’m a card-carrying pansexual, but face grinding isn’t necessarily off the table.”

“Good to know, but I think it’s going to be more fun this way,” she started with the button of her slacks, and I helped by pulling them down her legs. Her right thigh was covered in a large tattoo of a cobra.

She leaned in, pulling my gaze from the art, “Don’t worry he doesn’t bite,” her lips met mine, and she pulled my lip with her teeth, “But I do.” The sting of her teeth lingered on my lips as I pressed them to her inner thigh.

Her fingers laced through my hair as I kissed higher and higher up her leg. Little whimpers escaped her as I continued my path. I looked up into her eyes as my lips met the gusset of her panties, damp with her arousal. She tried to remove them, but they would only go so far with my face in the way, teasing her through the fabric.

She switched tactics, pulling my hair, getting me to rise from between her legs for a kiss. All the while she shimmied out of her underwear. With her plan successfully completed she guided me back down her body, until my face was once again level with her now bared pussy.

I kissed to one side, then the other, the patch of hair on her mound, “I thought this was supposed to be an apology,” she bemoaned.

“My apologies,” I giggled, pressing my lips directly to her slit. “Is that better?” I asked, my lips sliding over her folds with each syllable.

“Much,” she sighed, curling her fingers in my hair, holding me in place. I ran my tongue through her wetness, and she shivered. “Much, much better.”

She purred with each pass of my tongue, and gasped at the introduction of my fingers. Her hips rose, pushing harder against my face. I sucked on her clit, forcing her moans to fill the room. My fingers curled in her pussy, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her grasp on my hair tightened forcing me harder against her crotch, her thrusting hips grinding her against my face.

“Fuuuu-“ she screamed as her body convulsed at my touch, my fingers plunging into her pleasure, milking every ounce of ecstasy from her body until she collapsed into the couch. My face was soaked in her fluids, my fingers dripping wet, and my hair a mess from her touch. Her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, as I climbed into her lap.

Straddling her bare legs, I kissed her, “How’s that for an apology?”

“Mmm,” she said, nuzzling her face in my neck to whisper, “It’s a start.”

I giggled as she twisted us aside, my back hitting the couch cushions and her atop me. Ping my phone buzzed. Ping, ping, ping. Then a constant buzzing came from my purse. Pete stopped kissing me to look that way, “Do you need to get that?”

“Maybe,” I said, regretting the decision to climb out from under her. Delja’s name was emblazoned across the screen. “Hello?” I said answering the call.

“Are you okay?” she sounded panicked.

“I’m fine, it’s all good,” I started.

“You hadn’t come home yet, and then I checked the location sharing, and you were out in the middle of nowhere, I thought you were dead,” Delja was hyperventilating.

“Calm down, breathe. I’m fine, I met someone and they took me home,” I started but that was the wrong thing to say.

“You let some strange man take you to the middle of nowhere!” her voice rose in volume to reprimand me for the perceived danger.

“No, no strange men. A strange woman on the other hand,” I corrected.

“Oh thank the Goddess,” Delja sighed, “Will you be home tonight?”

I glanced over to Pete, her eyes hungry for my return. “Am I going home tonight?” I asked Pete.

She bit her lip, “I hope not. I can if you need to, otherwise I figured I’d drive you back to town in the morning.”

“No, I will not be home tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you,” I said.

Delja’s breathing sounded steady when she replied, “Love you too. Be safe, call if you need anything.”

“Your mom?” Pete asked as I set my phone down.

“No,” I laughed at the thought of Mom checking in on me. Or even noticing that I hadn’t come home for one night. “That was Delja, our housekeeper.”

“Damn, a gardener and a housekeeper, you are bougee as hell. Wait, why was your housekeeper checking in on you?” her eyes lit to life, “She’s your nanny isn’t she? You totally have a nanny.”

“She is technically not my nanny,” I started.

“Oh come on,” Pete laughed, “Technically, really?”

I sighed, “Fine, Delja is my nanny.”

Pete’s laugher filled the trailer, “I knew it!”

Support me on Patreon - patreon.com/Sarckle
Join me on Discord - https://discord.gg/t2sSqV7p5N