Free Coming Together: With Pride by Alessia Brio Page A

figures, who had been punished far more than they deserved, and a cultural tradition of shameless porn mixed with lurid accounts of true crimes. But contemporary men's bars, parties, and popular cruising-spots were unknown to her. For all she knew, she might have watched the subtle seduction of one man by another at one of the social events that she and Margaret constantly had to attend. Not knowing the signs, she wouldn't have known what she was seeing if it was done discreetly.
    It annoyed Paulette to think of herself as a Muggle, a Gentile, a colonial, an ignorant outsider of any sort. She didn't want sex with a man, but she didn't want to be rejected or excluded from a whole community, even if the exclusion was partly her choice.
    Margaret's warm, firm bottom felt increasingly distracting but reassuring. It was solidly there, pressing assertively into Paulette's crotch. She remembered reading the manifestoes of the pansexual, gender-fuck, anything-that-moves crowd who were fond of pointing out that every person on earth has an asshole, a puckered opening between two cheeks. It was a fundamental truth that no one could dispute.
    Paulette's hands cautiously wandered over Margaret's bum, past her hips, to her anus and her cunt. Paulette actually managed to approach both of Margaret's holes from opposite angles, and she was delighted that Margaret didn't seem disturbed. She slid her index finger into Margaret's asshole, but when she was in past the first knuckle, the muscles squeezed alarmingly. Paulette was reminded of a baby boa constrictor practicing its hunting skills.
    Margaret's larger opening was lush, wet, and easy to enter. It seemed so welcoming that Paulette could imagine it singing some raunchy invitation: Oh, baby, come this way .
    Paulette rearranged herself enough to slide two fingers along the wet folds and deeper into the center, like exploring an underwater cave. Margaret moaned and shifted, but didn't open her eyes.
    Paulette used one arm to press against the whole valley between Margaret's lower cheeks as she pushed deeper with two, then three fingers, heading steadily toward Margaret's cervix. With the other hand, Paulette found the hood of flesh at the highest end of Margaret's vulva, and used two fingers to tease the magic pearl, her swelling clit.
    Paulette felt thrillingly competent, like a conquering barbarian at the gates, and she refused to analyze that feeling. Margaret's physical reactions, which were apparently below the radar of her consciousness, made Paulette feel as if she could awaken and satisfy any human body. She responded to Margaret's twitches and gushes to give her the kind of attention that would produce the best results.
    "Ah oh!" yelled Margaret, jerking upright. Her sudden movement dislodged both of Paulette's hands, but Paulette refused to pull away altogether. She held Margaret by the hips, hoping that she hadn't caused any damage. She realized with dismay that her fingernails weren't short enough to be really safe on sensitive tissue.
    Margaret turned like a dolphin in water, wrapped her arms around Paulette, and pressed her down into the mattress.
    "Pauly! You are something else." Margaret kissed her mouth aggressively, then paused for breath. "Honey," she demanded in a stage-whisper, "did you really expect me to sleep through that?"
    Paulette was gasping for air, and the urge to laugh didn't help. "I wanted—you—to have—sweet dreams," she explained.
    "I did, babe. You are some sneaky intruder. Next time I really need my sleep, I'll have to wear a chastity belt. But really, Pauly, we can't play any more. We have a big day tomorrow."
    "Shh," answered Paulette. "I'll hold you, and you can sleep so hard it won't matter if you only get a few hours. You'll be refreshed."
    "I bet I will." Margaret closed her eyes. Paulette knew that she would eventually be thanked, rewarded or at least paid back for her sneak attack on her spouse. In the meanwhile, Margaret's breathing became so