Cruising the Strip Read Online Free PDF Page B

Marcie looked almost shy. “We’re going to be late if we don’t start getting dressed.”
    Reluctantly, Keri let Marcie go. Her own hair was drip dry, but Marcie took more time because the wild curls were always a challenge to tame. Keri went to get her best clothes out of the suitcase. They only differed from the rest of her clothes because the black jeans were new, sort of, and the shirt was black silk.
    She padded over the thick blue carpet, liking the way it felt under her feet. It was soft enough to fuck on, but floors didn’t have the appeal to her forty-year old body they once did. She couldn’t wait to try the king-sized bed. She went back to the bathroom to find Marcie leaning forward to peer at her face in the mirror. She wore only her bra and panties so far and Keri couldn’t help herself. She ran an appreciative hand over the curve of Marcie’s ass.
    Marcie’s responsive shudder took Keri’s breath away. Their gazes locked in the mirror and Keri slowly pressed her fingers into the crotch of Marcie’s panties.
    “I’m not sure you’re going to make it through dinner in this condition.” Keri hooked her fingers around the fabric and pulled it out of her way. Marcie was steaming hot.
    “There’s no time,” Marcie protested. “You know how long it takes me to—”
    “There’s time for this, honey.” Keri got right behind her, trapping her against the counter. She pushed two fingers inside Marcie’s heat, which felt fantastic. “I’ll go down on you later, I promise, and you know I don’t care how long it takes. I know this isn’t your first choice, but it could be faster. Could be what you need right now.”
    Marcie made a sound Keri hadn’t heard before, then she pushed her ass back into Keri’s crotch. “God, Keri, why does that feel so good?”
    “I don’t care why.” Keri couldn’t help herself. She wrapped an arm tight around Marcie’s waist, and used her hips to thrust her hand even more firmly inside. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t say words like pussy and juicy and explain, in between her own groans, how hard her own clit was getting from the way Marcie looked, her breasts heaving, her face flushed, her body braced to push back as Keri got even more forceful. “Come, baby, on my hand.”
    Marcie let out a surprised gasp and did just that.

    *

    “Okay, so we’ve talked about everything else over this wonderful dinner.” Marcie licked the spoon free of rum cocoa sponge cake. She lowered her voice. “Everything except what happened in the bathroom.”
    “What about it?” Keri’s pulse had still not recovered. She really enjoyed sex with Marcie, adored going down on her, and appreciated the same in return. Before they’d gone to bed the first time Marcie had explained her belief in the naturalness of the female body and how sex should reflect that. Even before that, their obvious chemistry had prompted both Nirvana and Sunshine to pointedly discuss, in front of Keri, the heterosexism that tainted much of lesbian sexuality these days. It still made her mad that they’d equated her butchness with thinking and wanting to be like a guy. They were Marcie’s closest friends, so she hadn’t retorted that she was a woman who fucked women who liked to be fucked by women, and anything she did, therefore, was about being a lesbian and not some secret longing to degrade her sex partners to the status of the little missus . “I gathered that you, well, enjoyed it.”
    “It felt, well, like…it was new. I mean…”
    “Was it okay?”
    “Yes.” Marcie’s eyes widened in emphasis. “It was, I mean if it was for you.”
    “Baby, I loved it.”
    “That’s new, too—you haven’t called me baby before.”
    Keri felt her cheeks color. She hadn’t realized she was doing it. “Sorry. I know you find it infantiliz—”
    “Not the way you said it then,” Marcie said quickly. “It felt…safe, nurturing.”
    “Okay.” An unexpected glow of pleasure radiated