Free Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia by A.L. Bryce

street Porsche breathed in the crisp air. She walked down the block, gazing across the street, taking the occasional glimpse into a townhouse window, a man bouncing on his couch cheering as his team scored, a woman yelling at her teenage daughter who stood with her arms on her hips and her face fierce, an empty dining room blazing with lights. The rows of bare cypress trees that lined the streets resembled sentries on duty. For some reason, all these things made Porsche even sadder.
     
    Willow walked gingerly to her shower and climbed in. She let the water cascade over her nipples, which still carried the indentation of the clamps, and over her oh-so-sore pussy. Her lips felt like they were on fire. She gently soaped up her body, slipping a finger into her pussy then out and in again to recreate the feeling she’d experienced at Sophia’s. Mistress Sophia’s. She leaned against the shower wall and gently fucked herself, barely able to take the pain she relished.
    What an odd girl I am, she thought as the climax covered her like a cloak. She slid to the floor of the shower and let the water wash over her.
     
    “What a waste of great lingerie! They didn’t even last long enough to see it!” Sophia chuckled. “I am GOOD.” Next time I’ll make them wait. But it was perfect. They were at my command. She was Mistress again and felt the power of that position flowing through her like a drug. She stretched out on her bed, rolled to one side then the other, and then stretched again. She purred like a kitten, then her thoughts turned to pleasuring herself. She petted her bush a half dozen times as she contemplated which of her toys she would use on herself, but before she could put thought into action, the phone rang.
    “Hello!” she said gaily.
    “Hello, dear, I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home but I was just thinking about you ... ”
    The color drained from Sophia’s face. It was the voice of Mrs. Pea.

 
    15
     
    “D EAR? ARE YOU THERE?”
    “Yes ... ” She spoke in a little girl’s whisper. Then Sophia bit her lip and swung herself into a sitting position. “Yes. What can I do for you?” Stronger.
    “I really enjoyed this little pair of frillies you gave me, but the stink has worn off them, dear, and I was wondering if I might obtain another pair of your little delicate panties to sniff at my leisure. Shall we meet?”
    Sophia’s mind was racing. She desperately wanted to meet Mrs. Pea again but she knew she didn’t want to fall back into the confusion that had so engulfed her the last time.
    “Dear?”
    “Yes, yes. I’ll meet you.”
    “Let’s make it the same place, shall we? Tuesday at, oh, let’s say…5:30.”
    “5 will work better for me.” Sophia tried for equal footing.
    Mrs. Pea chuckled. “5:30 is when I’ll be there. You do what you will.”
    The phone went dead. Sophia stared down at it, then threw it across the room.
     
    “Next!” Porsche called out, surly as hell. God, she was sick of the smell of coffee.
    “A double cap mach.”
    “Double cap mach. $3.95.”
    The customer handed her four ones, then dropped the nickel change in the tip jar and walked away.
    “Oh, thanks a lot! The college fund is ensured now, moron,” Porsche muttered.
    Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She whipped it out and checked the screen. Willow. Again. Willow had called half a dozen times in the last two days but Porsche ignored the calls. She loved Willow. At least, sometimes she thought she did. No, she did love her. But she was stung by the realization that she couldn’t replace Sophia. Willow would always want and need Sophia in her life. Porsche would never be enough. She wasn’t ready to be an addendum to Willow’s sex life. She wasn’t willing to share that little pussy with Sophia. If she couldn’t be Willow’s one-and-only, she didn’t want to be her anything, certainly not her friend—at least, not yet. She was embarrassed to tell Willow all this, so she just ignored her