Me in You, You in Me

Shortly after Adagio had retreated to her bedroom, she was fingering the hem of her sheer nightgown. She hoisted the scanty garment over her head, giving it a perfunctory fold, tossing it away quickly; there were other, more important things for her hands to do.

A large mirror in front of her reflected her naked body back at her. She sighed softly, crossing her arms to run her chilly hands over her shoulders, then lowering them, arching her back and squeezing a handful of each of her breasts. That soft flesh surrendered to her insistent fingers; she molded, kneaded, purred at the reflection of her tending to herself.

It had been a good day so far. That lurid cocktail of lust and anger that’d glimmered in Aria’s eyes… how she’d stopped fucking Sonata’s face so she could feast her eyes on yet grander delights…

That morning, it’d gotten Adagio worked up in a heartbeat. She felt squirmy, tickled always by a stirring heat between her thighs. She dreamed lazily of Aria’s thick, juicy cock and bit her lip, giving her swollen breasts one more squeeze before crawling onto her bed, sprawling out and turning onto her back.

She stared up at another mirror, this one in the ceiling. Again she gazed at herself, let her smoldering eyes wander down over her supple curves. She followed her eyes with her hand, first caressing a silky-smooth thigh before gliding upwards to circle teasingly at her blooming folds.

You’re in for a treat, Aria.

She didn’t want to do much—pleasuring her was Aria’s job—just enough to make sure she could cut to the chase. She wanted that cock in her as soon as it was close enough—she shivered at the thought of it—so she had to be good and wet for it.

Fortunately, she didn’t need much encouragement. Muscle memory took over her fingers; they knew every step of this dance. They tantalized, tracing circles tight enough to make her squirm but loose enough for her to craze more. Her thumb flicked at her clit, and she gasped. When, finally, she slipped two fingers inside—with all the care her long, expertly-sculpted fingernails demanded—they emerged with a sheen to match the pant that came from her chest.

She looked at her clock. Three minutes left, if Aria was punctual for once in her life.

A temptation gnawed at the back of her head; she had toys, vibrators, things she could use to keep her eager snatch company. She forced herself to swallow it. That morning, there was a warm, throbbing cock waiting for her, and she wanted to milk every second out of it she could.

And so she amused herself by playing idly with her breasts, counting down from three hundred and flicking her eyes between the mirror above her and the door in front of her.

With well over a hundred seconds to spare, a harsh banging rang out from her door. She grinned at Aria’s desperation, hurriedly flitting over to her dresser to wrap herself in a clingy-but-opaque silk robe, tightly enough to be technically modest but loosely enough she could fall right out of it.

“Come in,” she called, sucking her voice dry of the eager impatience honesty would have given it, replacing it with measured boredom; Aria would have to work for that eagerness. She turned her back, pointedly preening in front of a mirror.

A clatter of a twisting doorknob, then a slam of a door, then the soft padding of bare feet on luxurious carpet.

Aria came up behind her, circling her shoulders with one arm, her waist with another, roughly pressing their bodies together. The impudence of it—Who said you could touch me?—coaxed a scowl out of Adagio, but the soft pressure of Aria’s bare breasts pushing into her back made her feel ever-so-slightly benign.

And the stiff, fleshy thing prodding insistently at her ass made her almost give Aria a smile. Almost.

She turned up her nose, lifting her hand to examine her fingernails. “You’re late,” she lied.

Aria’s breath warmed the back of Adagio’s neck. “Bullshit,” Aria growled, baring her teeth. One of her hands tried to slip into Adagio’s robe, until Adagio shoved it away.

“I disagree,” Adagio said. Aria’s cock pushed against her, nuzzling her butt through her robe. Tempting her.

But if Aria wanted someone who’d throw herself at a fat cock waved in her face, she should’ve stuck with Sonata.

Aria’s fingers, impatient, pressed into Adagio’s shoulder. “Why do I ever put up with you?” Aria growled.

“Because you’re not an idiot. Because you know I’m the best lay you’re ever going to get.” Adagio spoke matter-of-factly, letting a faint smirk play on her lips as she snaked a hand behind her back. “Because you know just how lucky you—”

Her fingers found a girthy, veiny shaft, and wrapped around it. Her lip twisted into a scowl; she tore her hand away, held it up, let out a hiss when she saw, felt, smelled the sticky smear of fluid marring her fingers.

“Aria.” White-hot anger pumped through her veins. “Get. Off. Me.”

The grip on her shoulder tightened. “The fuck did you just say?”

Adagio whipped her head around to stare daggers into Aria’s eyes. “You know what you did,” she hissed, glaring disdainfully down her nose at Aria’s messy cock. “Or who, rather.”

She twisted in place, lifting her hands, mashing one palm into each of Aria’s breasts, shoving hard. Aria lurched back with a wince and a curse. “What? What the fuck are you—?”

“Aria, I’m doing you a favor and assuming you’re not an idiot.” Adagio folded her arms, eying Aria’s still-hard cock. “What did you think was going to happen when you pulled something like this?”

The knuckles of Aria’s clenched hands whitened. “Are you seriously—what the fuck did you want me to do, drop Sonata mid-fuck because you got the horn?”

“What, did you think I invited you in here for your sloppy seconds? I’m not some cheap harlot, Aria.” Adagio’s scowl hardened; her eyes darted over to her drawer of toys. She made a swatting wave, turning her back on Aria. “Get out.”

“Oh no. No, come here, you—” Aria seized Adagio’s wrist, bringing her around with a yank. Adagio bristled, ready to shout before Aria’s lips pressed into hers, cutting her off. Her eyes went wide; Aria’s tongue invaded her mouth. She felt her robe sliding off her shoulders, felt a swirl of heat and anger and lust bashing its way into her head.

But she broke away, shoved Aria back again. Her robe had fallen, the sleeves bunched up on her forearms, her breasts sprawled out in the open air. “Aria—” she snarled.

“Don’t you dare,” Aria snarled back. “You expected me to pry my dick out of Sonata and couldn’t even be bothered to tell me upfront? What did you think was going to happen?” Her eyes fixed with laser-like precision on Adagio’s cunt. “I’ve been beating off for ten minutes thinking about this. You owe me.”

“If you say a word about me owing you anything,” Adagio said in a low, quiet, frigid tone, “I am never taking you to my bed again.”

The hesitation in Aria’s eyes was subtle, but not to the point where Adagio could miss it. “You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Aria said; her dick twitched proudly.

“Maybe it is.” Adagio dropped her arms, letting her robe slip the rest of the way down. It fell in a heap around her ankles with a soft sigh. “Do you really want to take the chance that it’s not?”

Again Aria’s knuckles whitened, her fists clenched by her sides. The tense silence wordlessly declared Adagio’s victory.

“I didn’t think so,” Adagio whispered. She rolled her shoulders, plastering a smug smirk on her face. Then she eyed her bed, then Aria’s thick cock; the thrill of asserting her dominance gave her an excited sort of tingle that defused her boiling anger and let the husky lust from before creep back into the forefront. “But I suppose you do have a point. And since you got to blow your load all over Sonata—” She curled her lip, but crawled onto her bed, lying on her back and staring up at Aria “—I’m feeling left out.

“So, if you’d like to…” She ogled Aria’s chest, leering as she made herself comfortable, spread her legs, and beckoned. “…put your tongue to work.”

Aria had been grinning; when Adagio finished speaking, that grin had turned to a hateful, tight-lipped glare. But she stomped closer, grabbing her dick in her hand. “You’re lucky we both know you’re too much of a skank to keep away from this forever.”

Adagio shot her a smirk. “No, you’re lucky you’ve ever gotten a chance to stick it in me.” She opened her legs a little wider, reaching down to trace circles around her eagerly parted labia, exaggerating a moan, daring Aria to do better. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Quietly, begrudgingly, Aria knelt in front of Adagio, gripping one buttery thigh with each hand, harshly spreading them wide. Adagio gasped, then, a moment later, let out another moan as Aria lowered her head and a current of warm breath stroked her pussy.

Letting her head sink into her pillows, Adagio reached down, giving Aria’s cheek a tender stroke, quietly delighting in how it made Aria’s lips peel back. “Well?” Adagio asked breathily. She hooked her legs around Aria’s back, dragging her down, lifting her hips insistently. “I’m not getting off just sitting here.”

Aria lowered her head. Her lips pressed to Adagio’s folds, inciting pangs of pleasure; then her tongue flicked out, seeking Adagio’s clit, leaving a jolt in its wake. Adagio bit her lip, sighing contentedly.

And then, Aria made it clear just how good she was at eating pussy. The next time her tongue darted out, it licked and swirled, prodding hungrily into Adagio’s needy cunt, drawing out a sharp gasp. Adagio arched her back, basking in the sensations washing over her. She pressed down on Aria’s head with one hand, while the other latched onto her own chest, kneading a plump breast.

The best part of it all, by far, was that Aria couldn’t talk. She just laid there, head buried in Adagio’s nethers, too grimly focused on her task to talk. And, at least for the moment, she kept both her hands up, pushing Adagio’s thighs apart; her cock was alone, forgotten.

Of course, noticing that just meant that, every time Aria’s tongue slipped into her, Adagio was left yearning for something stiffer, fatter, longer. Sonata could eat her out just as well as Aria, but she hadn’t asked Sonata to come to her bed that day.

On the bright side… she pictured Sonata in those skimpy clothes she liked, hoisting her shirt by the hem, letting Aria’s cum dribble down over her massive, jiggling breasts…

It’s not too late to get her up here too, she mused.

But then she squirmed, purred, quivered under Aria’s ministrations. It felt so good, letting herself relax a bit now that Aria had accepted some docility.

Aria’s tongue swirled; Adagio felt every sinuous motion, every electric spurt of pleasure that erupted from her soaking-wet vagina. Aria’s tongue lapped at her juices, prodded at her inner walls, drew back to tease her clit for the most insufferably brief moments.

“I should—” Adagio’s breath hitched “—have you do this every day,” she gasped, lifting her hips, pressing down with her legs. She panted, filling her palm with her breast, fixing Aria’s hair-shrouded head with a smirk. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Aria’s head lifted. She started to spit out a “Fuck you,” but Adagio rocked her hips up and cut her off with a faceful of pussy.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Adagio sang, “I’m not doing your job for you.” She giggled at Aria’s tense bristling, then promptly hardened her whimsy into a glare and clicked her tongue when Aria didn’t pick up where she left off right away. A swirl of Aria’s tongue drew out a breathy moan, and Adagio sank back into the mattress.

There were some days she wished it’d been Sonata who had that big, juicy cock; she was so much more docile, obedient, considerate… just such a sweet little thing, always ready to drop what she was doing when someone felt like being fingered or licked to an orgasm. Wrestling Aria into cooperation was so much trouble.

But, Adagio mused as she squirmed and stared down at the purple head of hair buried between her thighs, some days, totally worth it. She reached down to pet Aria’s head, biting her lip and groaning.

Soon, at long last, she felt her pleasure building to a plateau. Pressure rose in her nethers. She held it in, let herself writhe in vain attempts to stay at that fleeting bliss forever. But it climbed, ever onwards; a climactic zenith hovered so close, so agonizingly close…

Without warning, she lifted her hips, pressed Aria’s face down, and let it all go.

Her orgasm shook through her; she cried out, her spasming cunt drenching Aria’s spluttering face. Ecstasy took her. She rode on a wave of bliss.

When that high finally drew back and came to a simmer, she was treated to the sight of Aria wiping at her face, cheeks glistening with the sheen of her nectar.

“Now, see…” Adagio’s voice petered out into a woozy sigh muddled by a soothing afterglow. “…If you’d offered that straight away, I might’ve let you fuck me afterwards.”

Aria sat up, which brought her cock into clear view again; they both stared at it, highlighting the amount of attention it hadn’t gotten.

And, ever so slowly, Aria unfurled two middle fingers.

To which Adagio giggled. She stretched herself out, putting on her most blatant just-had-fantastic-sex face. “Go jerk off or fuck Sonata if you’re still so angry. I’d offer a hand, but, well…” She eyed Aria’s still-filthy cock and shrugged innocently. “But you’re welcome to stick around and do it yourself, as long as you promise not to make too much of a mess.”