Not hearing an answer, Martha put her head between Zelda’s tits and kissed her there, then she squeezed the fleshy mounds so hard that the woman squealed, the hurt as delightful as Martha’s kisses.

“Oh ma’am, more,” Zelda moaned.

“You lovely bitch,” the older woman softly exclaimed. She nibbled at Zelda’s soft pink nipples, then bit the white skin, sinking her teeth into the pearly flesh. When she backed away, there was a quarter-sized red mark against the pale background. Martha smacked her more, on her thighs, her breasts, her raw ass, making her way about the eager body with equally eager intent. She pulled the red pussy hair, and listened to Zelda squeal. She pulled on it harder until tears formed in the slut’s green eyes. Three of Martha’s fingers slipped inside the wet sloshy cunt, while her mouth descended on a bright pink swollen clit.

Zelda gasped loudly as her body tensed, released and tensed again, so that Martha could feel the muscles pulsing against her penetrating fingers.

“Oooo, my yes more,” Zelda’s quiet wh

imper continued, as she lifted her groin to meet the hardworking mouth.

Then, suddenly, she went limp… the climax had come and gone in one crazed moment of bliss. For some moments, a calm silence surrounded the two until Zelda opened her eyes to see Martha staring at her from between her wide open legs. “You’re a fine Domme, ma’am,” she purred, meek as a kitten. “I’ll bet you want yours now, don’t you, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’ll have mine now, little bitch, or I’ll really whip you,” Martha said.

“Hum. What a choice!” Zelda pulled Martha down against her sweaty flesh, and they exchanged places on the chaise. With Martha’s legs spread wide, Zelda made a feast on the succulent cunt, running her tongue along the wet hole, sucking at the hard bud of her clit, and pulling gently at Martha’s plump labia. The redhead listened for the response, hearing a welcome groaning noise greet her ears, so melodic and intensely private a sound, until Martha’s cumming deepened. As the fluid orgasm rippled through the voluptuous body, she let out a vibrant, “Ahhhh, yes.”

The two remained pressed against each other on the small space of the chaise lounge, quietly recovering. So intimately intertwined, it almost seemed that they had been lovers for years, not just an hour. They heard the birds and their pleasant afternoon chirping, the hum of insects, and the distant sounds of the city.

“Maybe this was a way to repair ourselves after the death,” Martha suggested, as much to herself as Zelda. It had been a good release.

“Maybe, I guess for you perhaps,” Zelda suggested. “But I hardly knew her.” The once warmly passionate redhead sounded strangely cold and detached now.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Martha agreed.

Zelda propped herself up on one elbow and looked at the naked body next to hers.

“Felicia let you make love to her?” the redhead asked curiously.

“I wouldn’t call it making love. Love was never the feeling I had with Felicia. She liked to play with me, and she liked me on top,” Martha replied.

“You were her Mistress?”

“Not really, I always had the feeling that she had someone else that took her places I’d never even think of going.”

“You mean the really nasty stuff? Why didn’t you?”

“I do what pleases me. This pleased me, it pleases me now. It was the same sort of thing that I did with Felicia,” Martha answered pleasantly, although she wasn’t planning to answer any more of the woman’s questions.

Zelda nodded.

“Ah, so what do we have here?”

The reclining women looked up to see Jane Hugh standing on the other side of the screen door. Her shadow loomed over them, clouding the sunshine that had warmed them so well. “An ode to the dead?”

“And you haven’t made love since she died?” Zelda said with a touch of sarcasm.

“Not in Felicia’s bed,” Jane said.

“Oh, so you are in mourning for the woman? You sound so respectful, now that she’d dead,” Zelda answered maintaining a slightly caustic attitude. No one expected Jane to be mourning Felicia’s death, not the way they’d fought.

“I don’t give a shit what you two do, but I need the keys to Felicia’s car. I have to drive it out and get some equipment from behind it.”

“They’re hanging where they always do,” Martha said, pulling away from the voluptuous little nymph beside her.

“The bitch redhead needs a trip to the club, you should bring her,” Jane suggested as she walked with Martha into the house.

“I don’t think we have that kind of relationship. But she does like it nasty, why don’t you take her? I think for all her talk, she admires you.”