We were always close. Friends and relatives often commented on it. But last week... Was just ridiculous. I'm not sure I should have gone there. I'm not sure I should have let him. I'm not sure I should have enjoyed it. But I did.
*****
"James and Sophie should come away with us next week, they'd love it out there. We could have a little couples' holiday."
Letty smiled, showing her neat little teeth, as she delivered this fateful remark. "There's plenty of room in the house, we won't be too squashed together. And he's such a good cook, it'd save us forcing down my attempts at food."
Her eyes flashed happily, lighting her face as they always did when she poked fun at herself. There's no way to refuse that beautiful face, and nor would I want to- a couples weekend did sound like fun. The hetero pair of my brother James and girlfriend Soph, and we two, the visibly-lesbian-but-actually-bisexual couple who drew prolonged admiring glances from other Londoners when kissing in public. Me, 5'5 and curvy, Letty a few inches taller and with a tight, slim body sculpted by her passion for all things exercise.
"I'll call him tomorrow," I promised. Night was already upon us, two bottles of white behind us, and I could see easy satisfaction ahead of us. I only staggered a little as I stood up from the kitchen chair and walked slowly in the direction of the lounge, curling my finger in a gesture of warm invitation. Letty needed no more encouragement- our usual foreplay was abandoned in a drunken scramble to have each other naked, as we tumbled back onto the sofa.
Her soft golden hair tickled my face as I grabbed breathlessly at the buttons of her blouse- four months after moving in together, most nights had culminated in some similar performance. Usually not quite so drunk, but with the same result- and I never tired of seeing her come, or feeling that warm rush myself.
Tonight was brief but drunkenly intense- our kisses were hard and heavy, her naked body pressed on top of mine as I lay back on the sofa, two of her fingers disappearing inside of me, a move I copied, feeling her heat and wetness, keeping the rhythm that I knew would bring her to the brink quickly. It did, and she broke away from my lips to arch her back and give a little cry as she came, shaking as if doused with cold water. The smile was back.
Now in no rush, Letty kissed me gently, before moving slowly down my body, tracing a falling line with her tongue from neck to navel. She paused there, using her fingertips to lightly tease my entrance, glancing upwards to meet my eyes with her steady gaze and knowing grin. She shifted herself on the far end of the sofa, finding the right position.
My intake of breath was a sharp rush when her tongue caressed my labia, and I grasped my right breast, almost involuntarily, squeezing it's plumpness as I raised my hips to Letty's mouth. She slipped her finger into me, moving it in and out as she licked, deeper with each new upwards pull of her tongue.
Someone in next door's apartment slammed a door loudly, as Letty quickened her pace, my breathing following suit, my fingers around one nipple, my other hand reaching down to run through her hair. One finger inside me became two, the way she knew I liked it.
Her tongue found my clitoris, flicking it gently, bringing me closer to climax- I couldn't stop myself from whimpering softly- her cue to bring things to a close. She took my clitoris carefully, sucking it whilst I raised my hips, again, off the sofa, and moments later, with one hand in her hair and the other sqeezing my breast, came with a shuddering gasp.
Pleasure radiated from my clit to my core, intense for several seconds, before it slowly subsided and my body went limp on the sofa. Letty emerged from between my legs, beautiful face flushed, mouth wet and mascara smudged in dark smudges.
She crawled up along the sofa, looking into my eyes before kissing me passionately- she knew I didn't like to taste myself, really really didn't like to, and it gave her a perverse pleasure to make me do it in my moments of weakness.
"Stop it, that's disgusting!"- I broke free and pouted, half joking, half genuine annoyance.
"You love it," Letty replied, her usual brash self.
She sprung lightly from the sofa and headed for the bathroom. I lay back, trying and failing to get rid of the taste of my own genitals. A few minutes later we were in bed, entwined as we always slept, and I was drifting off. My mind raced through the day- work at the council's housing office, the tube home, dinner... sex.
The fresh memory of our passion was beautiful to me. But for the kiss afterwards, my fluids on her lips, then mine. Not something I wanted at all. Letty thought that everyone else should be as kinky as her. At that point I strongly disagreed, proud to be vanilla. I didn't know it, but that was to change.
* * * * * * * *
The following few days passed quickly, uneventfully. I extended the invitation to my Brother and his girlfriend, who responded with enthusiasm, and I worked diligently at the council- pushing through a hefty workload of housing applications and various negotiations with landlords. The time for our Dorset countryside getaway was fast approaching, and I was determined to be ready for it. Saturday was in my sights, and a week of scenic walks, evenings out to restaurants and bars as a pair of couples, seemed perfect to me. On Friday afternoon my brother called me during my lunch break.
"Hey Claire."
"Hi James," I replied brightly. I expected a simple discussion of the time at which we would depart from London the next day. He always drive when we were together- he loved to drive, and always had. A year and a half older than me, he had earned his driving license at the first opportunity, and served me generously in my teenage years- chauffeuring me around to parties and gigs and friends' houses. Our drives were filled with lively conversation, jokes and general catch-up about each other's lives.
"Some bad news, Claire." His words came reluctantly, and I instinctively braced myself.
"What?" I feared some awful news about our parents- we were in our early twenties, but our parents had us late, with my Dad being older- by this point he was in his seventies, and with a few health-scares behind him. I worried about him routinely.
"Soph can't come away tomorrow. Work stuff, her hands are tied." My first emotion was wonderful relief, but after a moment I felt disappointed- our couple's week spoiled. "I was really looking forward to it, but unfortunately she just can't get out of this one. I'm sorry to tell you so close to the time," he continued.
"Don't worry, it's not a problem."
"I'm sure you and Letty will have a great time anyway, obviously."
"Yeah..." I paused, silence overcoming our normal chattiness for a few seconds.