ALICE Ch 333

“Ingrid, are you all right?” Glynda asks.

“Aki. Aki’s turn,” Lotte is saying.

“Ingrid doesn’t want to,” Aki replies.

“Of course you do. Yes?” Lotte puts her hand on Ingrid’s shoulder and shakes.

“Stop that,” Glynda tells her.

“Aki’s right,” Sun cuts in. “Glynda. Ingrid’s too shy. Why don’t you take her place? You’re the only one who can. Lotte and Aki can try, but it’s just kind of sad.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Glynda replies dismissively. “Why do you have to do it at all? Is this really so much fun? Am I too old to understand?” She shuts up when she sees the look that Julieta’s giving her. She swallows and tries to look stern. “You lot should save this type of behavior for behind closed doors.”

Sun smirks. “If you don’t want to hang out with us, we understand. I’m sure we’ll be fine down here. Unsupervised.”

“If you think I’ll be taunted by a skinny little wagon like you, you haven’t known me very long,” Glynda tells her.

“I think she did just taunt you,” Aki says quietly. “I think that the way that you’re replying indicates that what she’s doing is working.”

Glynda pulls off her glasses and rubs her face. “Idiots. What do ye want? A raise?”

Julieta leans forward and picks up a jug. She holds it up, staring at Glynda with sparkling eyes.

Glynda stares in disbelief at the four of them in turn. Even Aki seems to want her to cooperate.

“This is one of those things I’m just not meant to understand, isn’t it? Like when men want to see the bottom of my feet.”

Sun gravely places a hand on her flat chest. “I want to see the bottom of your feet, Glynda.”

“And I want you all to go to bed now.”

“But we are in the middle of a game,” Lotte whines ironically. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go.”

“Then get on with it,” Glynda says, irked. She mimics what Ingrid did, lifting and squeezing her chest to create a suitable vessel. She would have thought that she’d just given the four of them a large bonus from their enthusiastic reaction.

As Julieta brings the jug closer and closer, Glynda’s slightly buzzed mind reflects that perhaps this is for the best. Had Ingrid gotten on with it, no doubt they would have pressured Glynda to drink. She prefers this to the comparably more severe indignity of presumably lapping up a beverage from a far younger woman’s skin. Self-consciousness enters her calculus; she’s not as young as these four, and not confident that bending and waving her bottom around is a good idea.

Julieta pours, and it feels strange, but it’s hardly anything to get excited about. Unfortunately, Glynda’s imagination has already run for miles with the story about this Lara woman. And she’s still reckoning with the fact that her brief fling with Erica, if that’s the word, has stuck with her more than anything she ever had with a man. But there’s no time to worry about her sexuality, because it doesn’t seem to matter that Julieta has already had a turn. She seems immensely keen to do this, because she does not hesitate.

Glynda gasps as Julieta shoves her face into her breasts. She goes rigid as she suddenly understands what Ingrid experienced to make her react this way. Julieta does not daintily lap at the sake; she uses her tongue like a punk rocker on speed, then slurps and sucks as though she’s dying of thirst. It’s all muffled by Glynda’s cleavage and hidden from the others because there’s no view.

Glynda’s body was already feeling ill-advised things. This does not help. Sweat beads on her forehead, and she squeezes her legs together tightly as Julieta treats the spot between her breasts like an ice cream cone.