Page 113 of Deliverance

I know I swore this would never happen again. The guilt was killing me for so long. I convinced myself I didn’t need to feel guilty anymore because it wouldn’t happen again. Ask me why I’m centimeters from Bridgette’s mouth, though, and I don’t feel a damn thing but want.

A slight bump is all that’s needed to initiate, and as soon as I feel her silky lips against mine, we’re both goners. Our hands are everywhere, mouths everywhere. I need her more than I need my next fucking breath. She hikes her dress up as I hike my own. My entire body is vibrating and I literally don’t know where to start.

“Lay down. Rub your pussy against mine,” Bridgette gasps between kisses.

My pussy pulses at her words as my fingers tangle into the back of her hair.

“Ask me nicely,” I say as I yank her hair gently.

“What?” she gasps.

“Beg mommy to grind her pussy against yours, baby B,” I murmur against her lips.

She shudders in my arms as she lets out a whimper.

“Please mommy. I want to feel you.”

“That’s my good girl.” I smirk before we both lay down on the floor.

I know coat closets have a reputation for being small and dark. For some reason, though, this one is at least five feet wide and twelve feet deep with several recessed lights above. Plenty of light to see Bridgette’s pretty bald cunt as she slips off her panties and spreads her legs. Fuck. My mouth waters as my pussy soaks my panties.

Slipping my own off, I toss them to the side before slipping my legs through hers. Pulling down the top of my dress, I begin pinching and tweaking my nipples when our pussy lips touch. We’re both soaked, and we slip against each other at first, pulling moans out of us both.

“Holy shit!” she gasps as she grinds into me again and again. “Oh my god. Maggie.”

“Yeah, baby? You missed this?”

“So much,” she whimpers, thrusting against me, grinding against my clit in the process.

“Have you played with any women since me, baby B? Let any women scissor fuck you like this?” I rasp.

She shakes her head. “Of course not. It’s only you, Mags. It’s always you.”

“Right answer,” I moan as I hump and thrust against her.

Her silky smooth body is like butter against me, and I feel my orgasm steadily building.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter.

“I’m gonna come,” Bridgette moans.

“Good. Come for me, baby B. Come for mommy.”

“Shit, that’s hot,” she gasps. “Oh fuck, oh fuck! Mommy!” she cries out as her thrusts become stuttered.

I fall right over the edge with her, grinding my clit against her as quickly as I can, milking every second of pleasure that I can out of this moment.

When that post orgasm bliss begins to fade, I wait for the guilt to set in like last time. It doesn’t come, though. Maybe because deep down, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and I’m done turning my back on it.

Gently, I untangle my legs from hers before sitting up on my knees. My tits are still out of my dress and Bridgette reaches out, cupping one of them before flicking her thumb against it. A needy moan escapes me and she smirks.

“You going to let me play with these next?”

“Soon. First, we’re going to go out there and enjoy my best friend’s wedding.”

“And then?” she asks, desperation thick in her voice.

“Then I’m taking you home and fucking you until we’re both raw.”

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