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The Girl Who Wants to Live a Little

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Clit Clamp

Author’s Note: This is the fourth in a series of stories featuring the two female leads — Sarah and Katrina. The first story — The Girl Who Gets What She Wants — is particularly helpful for plot development and characterization, but hopefully not necessary to enjoy this story. It can be found here in the Group Sex category on Literotica, and is easily accessible through my author page (as can the other stories in this series).

It’s probably worth noting that these characters live in a fantasy world that — although identical in many ways to our own — doesn’t have certain negative consequences to sex such as sexually transmitted disease and unintended pregnancy. If you feel the need to mentally insert some sort of birth control and/or STD prevention into the story in order to make yourself feel more comfortable, I would encourage you to do so. The story also takes place in 2015, so some of the pop culture references may seem a bit dated — likely deliberately so.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

For the second time in a month, Sarah pulled her Audi into the parking spot nearest the curb and stared nervously at the townhouse’s front door. This time, Ryan’s truck was there, as well as a number of other vehicles that could belong to guests of theirs, or anyone else who lived in the complex. She picked up her phone, reviewing her recent Facebook PMs with Katrina for the umpteenth time, to try and get an inkling of what might be in store for her behind that door.

Katrina: you still planning on coming over Friday for my bday, right?

Sarah: Wouldn’t dare miss it. 7:00 you said? You told me you would let me know what to wear.

Katrina: oh yeah how about… hmmm

There had been a pause of several hours.

Katrina: just wear what you normally wear to work. Skirt no pants duh. And something sexy underneath.

Sarah: OK. Who else is coming?

Katrina: hopefully everybody! 😉

Sarah: Ha ha. You know what I meant. I know you invited Harper, anybody else?

Katrina: if i told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise!

Sarah: It’s your birthday. Why am *I* the one getting surprised?

Katrina: cause for my birthday, I want to surprise you!!! 🙂

Sarah: :eyeroll: Fine. See you Friday night.

Sarah surveyed the cars in vicinity of their front door a little more closely. She didn’t see anything necessarily out of place in the parking lot, but short of a football team bus from a nearby university, it was hard to tell what “Out of place” might mean. Based on her limited but memorable encounters with Katrina, there was very little which would truly surprise her.

She briefly reviewed the sequence of the last few weeks in her head. On two different occasions in the last month, she had done some things she had never expected to do. She had met two women on two different occasions, and had sex with each of them that same night. On both of those nights, she had jumped into a threesome — the second one was her first all-girl threesome– without a moment’s hesitation. She had told someone about her sexual experience with the NBA player (and his girlfriend), which she had promised she would never tell anyone about for professional reasons. She even had a Facebook conversation with that same NBA player’s girlfriend (who was now an ex), instigated by Katrina. And now, she had more than willingly come to Ryan and Katrina’s place, fully expecting to have sex with at least one and probably both of them. Or… maybe more than that. Who knew?

Sarah had never been the most prim and proper person — she had her share of casual sex and one-night stands. But this was a new direction for her — she was actually planning these things ahead of time. She also felt like this was a period of her life — she was going to be thirty-five next month — that she was supposed to become less sexually adventurous, and start settling down. But now, she was headed full-steam ahead in the opposite direction. This was Katrina’s twenty eighth birthday; if the stories of women peaking sexually at thirty were true, that made sense for Katrina to be going sex crazy, but why was Sarah doing the same thing?

All concerns aside, she had been very much looking forward to this night since she left the Nook she felt like a kid waiting for Christmas – it just couldn’t get here soon enough.

In preparation, she had gone so far as to take the afternoon off work. She had spoiled herself with a full treatment at her favorite spa. In addition to a massage, facial and sauna, she had booked a full Brazilian wax. This was unusual for Sarah; she wasn’t used to no pubic hair at all, and now she felt her nethers rubbing in weird (but mostly good) ways. On a whim, she had added a colonic cleanse. Based on her previous experiences with Katrina, being clean back there would be a good thing.

Oddly, Sarah’s biggest concern was her lack of concern, in the sense that she wasn’t feeling any real shame ankarada yeni escortlar or hesitation. She thought she should be feeling some reservations, but wasn’t. This discrepancy bothered her enough that she felt the need to talk to someone about it to see if she was crazy.

Her most common confidant in this type situation was Jocelynn. She’d known Jocelynn in high school, although they were never terribly close at that point. At their ten-year high school reunion, a childless handful of attendees had gathered at the bar so they could avoid listening to their classmates drone on about their kids. Sarah and Jocelynn had both ended up at this table, and quickly became far better friends than they ever had been in high school.

After high school graduation, Sarah had gone to college while Jocelynn had joined the military. Jocelynn still worked for the national guard in an administrative capacity. She normally worked in Salem at the state headquarters, but periodically was in Portland for work, so they periodically met for lunch when Jocelynn’s schedule allowed. Yesterday had been one of those occasions.

But when Sarah found herself looking at Jocelynn across the picnic table set up near the taco truck she had chosen, she couldn’t figure out how to bring up the subject of her new adventures with Katrina. All she could think about was what might happen at Katrina’s birthday party. Sarah found herself staring right through her friend while daydreaming, so Jocelynn reached over the table and tapped her on her temple.

“Hello? Earth to Sarah! Come in, Private McCormick!”

Sarah came back to her senses. “Oh, sorry, I was… elsewhere.”

“No shit.” Jocelynn looked down and wiped some crumbs off her standard issue fatigues. “So where is elsewhere today? Bora Bora? Las Vegas? Jon Snow’s sex cave?”

Sarah gave out what sounded to her like a guilty chuckle. “Sorry, no, just was thinking about work.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to lie.

Jocelynn peered intently at her. “I think you’re lying to me, McCormick.”

Sarah laughed again and shook her head. “No, everything is fine, really. What were you saying?”

Jocelynn sighed and moved on. “Did you see that Tracy Miller is getting married in December? She announced it on Facebook.”

“That’s kind of a surprise. When we saw her at the ten-year, she didn’t strike me as ready to settle down.”

“That reunion was six years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. People change in six years. Maybe her biological clock is ticking — she is pushing thirty-five.”

Sarah knew more about Tracy’s wild days than she was letting on – the two of them had gotten together and hooked up with a third classmate (she couldn’t remember the name of the guy — Andy? Aaron?) at the reunion in question. They hadn’t talked since, other than exchanging the occasional like on Facebook.

“Yeah. People change, I guess.” Sarah said idly. She had briefly been distracted by the Tracy news, but her internal monologue returned to Katrina’s party.

“You usually have something you want to talk about when you call up for lunch. What’s going on?” Jocelynn kept pushing.

“Oh, nothing new, really, since I broke up with Todd. You know, the –“

“Stop the fucking presses. You broke up with your boyfriend of two years and it took you until AFTER the food got here to tell me? Way to bury the lead! Spill!”

Sarah had forgotten that the break-up was big news in her life two months ago, and that Jocelynn had not known. She realized that Jocelynn wasn’t going to let her off the hook now, although at least she had that story to tell rather than the one that was truly distracting her. So, Sarah began to tell the final chapter of the tale of Todd Lang while Jocelynn ate her tacos.

While talking, she realized that a couple of younger Hispanic men at the table behind them were checking Jocelynn out while talking quietly in Spanish.

Jocelynn was half Mexican and had embraced some of the stereotypical spice that went with her Latino heritage. She was born and raised in lily white Eugene, though, so you would have never guessed her ethnicity based on how she spoke or acted. She had a darker complexion with more Caucasian features, and was quite striking. While she didn’t wear any make up for work, when she did, she could draw some serious attention. She had put on a few pounds since she landed her desk job, but still maintained a base level of fitness that was required by the National Guard.

As Sarah was trying to explain why exactly Todd felt it necessary to only empty the trashes on garbage day, regardless of how full they were, she saw Jocelynn’s eyes narrow and she held up a single finger at Sarah to interrupt.

“One second,” she said.

Jocelynn turned around and unleashed a string of rapid-fire Spanish at the two men sitting behind her. They stared at her in shocked silence while she went off. Sarah bayan escort elvankent stifled a laugh as she recognized a few key words such as ‘pendejo’ and ‘cabron.’ The rest of it was lost on her, but the tone of the words was unmistakable in any language. Other patrons at a nearby table turned and stared. They were obviously able to understand her words, because they were nodding in agreement at certain moments.

After a minute, Jocelynn switched back to English. “You think I don’t speak Spanish because I speak native English? What kind of bullshit is that? My last name is Gutierrez for fuck’s sake!” She pointed at her nameplate on her fatigues. “It’s written right there! In plain English or Español, either fucking way!”

She went back to Spanish for a few more sentences while the two men desperately looked around for any sign of escape. Eventually, Jocelynn stopped and just kept staring at them.

“Um, I’m sorry,” one of them said to both of them in accented English, as they got up. “We were just finishing, Corporal Gutierrez.”

“Corporal? Seriously? Why bother if you can’t read the stripes? “She pointed at the insignia on her sleeve. “That’s Sergeant Gutierrez. S-E-R…. you know what, it doesn’t fucking matter. Just get out.”

Jocelynn turned back around and asked Sarah “Sorry, please go on about garbage day,” if nothing had happened.

Sarah looked at the other customers who were deliberately not looking their direction, but several of whom were unsuccessfully stifling a smile. Eventually she resumed her tale of Todd and the trash.

Once the subjects of Jocelynn’s ire were gone, she spoke about it. “Sorry for the interruption, Sarah, they were saying dirty things about us at first, which I can ignore. But once they started calling me a sell out for joining the military, and a half-breed who spoke less Spanish than Jimmy fucking Fallon, I had to say something.”

Sarah nodded. “I get it. Looks like you handled it pretty well.”

“Racism: not just for white people anymore.”

Sarah chuckled uncomfortably and continued her story. Eventually, she felt like she had said enough, and wrapped it up.

“Sounds like you’re better off without him,” Jocelynn concluded.

“Yeah, I think so. He’s not an awful person, but we just wanted a lot of different things different in little ways, and it added up to the point every little thing was a symptom of a big thing, and we both needed to move on. I could probably hang out with him in a couple of years, but not right now. All the little things that annoyed me about him would stand out.”

“I get it. Not going back for post-breakup sex, then?”

“Hah. No. He wasn’t good enough at that to make that worthwhile unless I got really desperate.”

“But…” Jocelynn started with a conspiratorial tone, “it’s been over two months, so either you’re getting desperate or you’re getting some already.”

Sarah hesitated and tried to tell her about Katrina, but once again couldn’t bring herself to do so. She didn’t know why — she had told Jocelynn a lot of personal things over the last few years, but this — she wasn’t ready for it.

“Nothing serious. Maybe I’m just getting old and my libido’s slowing down. I hear thirty is the peak of a woman’s sex drive, and I’m almost thirty-five.”

Jocelynn stared her down. “I think you’re full of shit.”

Sarah protested weakly.

“Ok, it’s something you don’t want to talk about, which is weird, but I won’t push too hard. But I’ll get it out of you soon, McCormick.”

Sarah chuckled a nervous smile. “No, no, really, it’s nothing.”

“Riiiiight.” Jocelynn stood up and started to gather her trash. “That’s OK, I have to get back to work, so you’re off the hook. But next time we do this, it’s going to be after work and we’re going to have a drink or six and loosen some lips.”

“Only if it’s an Alabama Slammer.”

“A what?”

“Nothing, never mind.”

They cleaned up their trash to a nearby receptacle and hugged. As they were walking to their cars, Jocelynn turned around and spoke.

“Sarah, I don’t know what you’re going through that you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about, but my gut feeling is that it’s a good thing.”

Sarah paused, frowned, looked down and back up.

“I think it’s something you feel ashamed about, but shouldn’t. Don’t be afraid to live your life.”

A pause. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb; you know what I’m talking about. Just live your life; don’t be afraid what your future in-laws might think one day.”

Sarah feigned confusion. “So just live for today and forget tomorrow?”

“Not exactly. Just don’t be afraid to live a little. It’s OK.”

“Understood. Thanks, Joss.”

Jocelynn gave her a soft salute, closed her car door, started her engine and drove off. Which left Sarah pondering her own thoughts, sitting in her Audi while her air conditioning worked escort bayan etimesgut its magic. One of those thoughts was that her friend Jocelynn Gutierrez might have a side gig as a detective.

Sarah’s thoughts returned to the present, again in her Audi and again appreciating the AC. She was still staring at Ryan and Katrina’s front door, both excited and anxious.

She checked her makeup and lipstick in the rear-view mirror — she was much more made up than she had been the last time she was here. Her hair was tied up in one braid in typical daily fashion, but bright red lipstick and light blue eyeshadow were things she didn’t normally wear at work. Neither was the somewhat low-cut red blouse, although the black knee length skirt was straight out of her office wardrobe. Her red high heeled shoes weren’t practical for anything other than making her ass look good. What she was wearing underneath certainly wasn’t typical for anything she might do at the office… at least not as a normal part of her job.

After the Brazilian wax, she had gone to a specialty brassiere boutique in Portland where they had taken a number of measurements that she didn’t realize were important. They informed her that while she had always thought she was a 38C, she was more of a 36D. Although skeptical at first, she tried on one of their samples, and immediately felt the increased comfort from the more complete coverage and support. As it turned out, she had grown some since she last measured herself that one night in college with her friends. Or maybe bra sizing had changed. Or her drunk roommates hadn’t measured her right. Or all of the above.

As a result of this new information, she had immediately purchased a few bras from that store for comfort. Then she had hit up Victoria’s Secret in Washington Square, and purchased a matching lacy black bra, thong and garter set. The pantyhose were also sheer black, and she was really happy with how she had looked in the mirror in the changing room. She had debated whether to leave the underwear on outside of the garter, or slide them underneath. Outside made it easier to remove them without taking off the garter, but underneath was more comfortable and the intended way (she thought) to wear it, so underneath it was.

She decided that she had talked herself up enough. She got out of her car, locked it behind her, and strode up to the front door. There was a sign on the doorbell that said in a woman’s handwriting “Out of Order.” The note looked fresh and hadn’t been there on her previous visit. She knocked hard three times.

A good thirty seconds went by with no answer, and she checked her phone. It was only 6:50, ten minutes earlier than the time discussed. She tried knocking again, with no answer. She was just starting to wonder if they weren’t yet home when her phone vibrated. It was a text message from Katrina.

Katrina: That u? Come on in, we’re up in the spare bedroom.

Sarah opened the door and called out.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, we’re up here,” Katrina’s voice came back.

As Sarah walked in and closed the door behind her, she saw that the front room looked more organized than it did the last time she had been here. She recognized the couch where Katrina had seduced her (for a second time), and noticed that the weights were put neatly away on a shelf instead of strewn about. Other loose debris had been tidied up as well; they knew company was coming this time.

Sarah headed up the stairs; she was tucking her phone into her purse when she heard the unmistakable sound of sex. Somebody was having a good time.

Sarah reached the top step and took a right, away from the master bedroom. She passed the bathroom, and a closed door that she assumed was Katrina’s room. The final bedroom had been called an office when she had been a regular here, but Ryan had not really used it for that. It had just had a desk with a few shelves full of books and DVD’s, surrounded and covered by cardboard boxes full of things Ryan hadn’t looked at in years.

If it had ever been an office, it certainly was not one now.

The room had been almost entirely cleaned out. The desk was the only thing that Sarah recognized, and it was pushed into the far corner of the room. On top of it were some open cases with formed padding; they appeared designed to transport specific electronic equipment.

The rest of the room had been turned into a makeshift movie set. There was a king-sized bed against the center of the far wall, and two different professional lighting stands had been set up to provide controlled, artificial lighting for the bed. Above the bed were two boom microphones, fixed in place to rigid stands. Next to the bed was a night stand, upon which rested several bottles of what looked like lube. A comfortable red couch was on the opposite wall from the bed, there were two expensive looking video cameras pointed at the bed.

One of these was cameras was held by Katrina, who had it resting on her shoulder; the other camera was a mounted tripod, aiming directly up from the bottom of the center of the bed. The lens was about eighteen inches above the bedframe, so it had a direct view right at the focus of the action on the bed.

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