Troll in The Shadows Read online

  Holding me in place more firmly with her lips than any handcuffs ever could have, she licked, sucked and nibbled till I was moaning and writhing, begging for her to fuck me, make me come.

  At the same time I was missing out, because I couldn’t reach anything but her hair. I pushed her away, picking her up easily to spread her out on the large rectangular table. The next time we had a drug dealer in here strung out on “O” the smell of sex would drive him insane. I laughed at the thought, then set about spreading more female pheromones all over the place.

  Like a Troll stalking her victim I pounced -- OK, crawled -- up on the table. Thank God it held. When I hesitated, she rolled up on her elbow, pulling my head to hers for another long, slow kiss. I modeled her position. Sixty-nine on the side, then. I mean yeah, there are other options for two women, but this one would play best to our audience, as well as giving us both equal access to one another. And if I didn’t get at her soon, I was going to scream from sheer frustration.

  I broke off the kiss to indulge in another of my fantasies, kissing my way down to her Hershey’s Kisses nipples. God she was hot. Her nipples were softer than a man’s. Larger. Sweet tasting. The texture against my tongue sent a shudder through me. I was so hot from just the thought of what she was doing to me, I knew the first touch would send me over.

  “Oh God. I love what you’re doing. Don’t stop!”

  OK, so the feeling was mutual. Maybe I should have wondered if she’d had sex with a woman before, if I was going to be as good as her previous partners, but ya know, I really didn’t care. I wanted to feel her, touch her, taste her, and right then, nothing else mattered. We were consenting adults -- she moaned again, thrusting her nipple deeper into my mouth, as I swirled my tongue through her nipple ring. I’d call that consent. Where was I -- oh. Consenting adults, we’d both been vaccinated -- the department gives us all physicals and checks our medical histories even before the insurance company screens us. No germ goes unturned, so I know we’re both clean.

  Anyway, aside from that little safe sex reminder, let’s get on with the sex. I know this is your favorite part.

  While I was tongue fucking her nipple ring Kara decided turnabout was fair play (old twentieth century idiom, sorry). While I was sucking her tits and playing with her nipple ring, Kara got impatient. Her fingers found their way to my clit and suddenly things got a whole lot more serious.

  Like I said, I’m new to this whole f/f thing, but I’ve got firsthand experience with all the girly parts. Letting her nipple go with a loud pop designed to make our audience hornier than the guard dogs at a breeding kennel, I quickly licked my way down to her cunt.

  She grasped my hips and pulled them to her, bringing my cunt to her lips. The feel of her tongue deftly slipping along the hood of my clit had me moaning over a mouthful of hot, dark pussy lip.

  I don’t know where men get that tuna-fish thing. If it smells like fish someone needs a fucking shower. She smelled like sex, pungent and aware, and very, very ready for me. I licked her, tentatively at first, then again, harder, discovering I had a taste for her. Sweet, with a little tang, not as acidic as a man.

  Fascinated with her nipple rings, I pulled and twisted at the one I could reach until she ground her breasts into my palm. I’d never spent much time looking at a pussy -- my own’s located in an inconvenient spot for that -- so her folds fascinated me as well. Careful not to scrape her with my tusks, I sucked her lower lips the way I had her mouth. She hissed and squirmed, then moaned my name a little too loudly, showing off for our audience. I’d almost forgotten them. The reminder made me even hotter.

  Just about then I found her clit and sucked it, flicking my tongue along the short length and swirling around the tip, paying special attention to the tiny little underside, which was harder to reach at this angle. This time when she moaned, it wasn’t for our audience. Reaching down, I ran my freshly polished, extra sharp crimson red nails up the inside edge of her thigh where I knew from personal experience it was sensitive to even the most delicate of touches. I’d seen her stare at those nails a time or two -- her own were short, neat, but unmanicured -- and I knew she’d be able to picture those claws of mine scraping over her flesh.

  At the top of her thigh, a mere inch or two from her pussy, I let them hover, playing with her curls as if they might not go further. Her whole body went rigid, waiting, while I leisurely swiped my tongue over her clit again and again.

  I backed off a little. “You taste so good,” I said with a smile.

  “Don’t stop now!”

  But then, she was the one who’d set me up for Candid Camera here. Her and a certain Cop. “I just want to look at you. You’re so beautiful.”

  “Screw that! Fuck me!” she shrieked.

  “Make me.”

  Shoving her pussy at my face, she sucked my clit, hard, and rammed her fingers deep into my cunt. God, I loved it hard. Hard and fast and rough. I’d sworn this was going to be different, something to treasure and savor, but now the show was over and it was time to fuck. Scraping my nails over the soft, smooth skin below her slit, I traced up, spreading her pussy lips as I thrust four long, elegant fingers deep into her cunt.

  At the same time I pressed my fangs on either side of her clit, hard enough to hurt, almost hard enough to break the skin. Then I changed my angle just enough to get my mouth back on her, lapping and licking and sucking and finger fucking till she writhed beneath me, coming with a screech like a cat.

  When she could breathe again she returned the favor, licking and sucking me till I forgot my name I came so hard. And then we did it again, just because we could.

  When at last we lay sprawled across one another, too exhausted to move, my finger still absently playing with her nipple ring, she chuckled softly. “I think that Cop of yours set me up.”

  “No doubt. What did he do this time?”

  “Bet me I couldn’t get you to show up at my party naked.”

  “Show up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sex wasn’t part of the deal?”

  “We never mentioned what was going to happen after the naked part.”

  “How did you and Sam get on the subject of me naked anyway?”

  “He asked about my party and I said parties were boring, I’d rather have an orgy.” She blushed hard enough for me to see the blood rising through the dark tint of her skin. “Sam said you’d never agree to get naked in public.”

  I thought about Sam and who else was in that observation booth watching us. “Gentlemen!” I announced, loud enough for the microphone under the table to pick me up clearly. “I believe the lady requested an orgy!”

  My sensitive hearing picked up a soft, muffled groan.

  “Get your asses in here, and you better be naked by the time you get through the door!”

  Right about then, I felt the need to enact another one of my fantasies… watching Kara have sex with her huge hunk of a fiancé, while Sam fucked me into oblivion.

  I’m not all that into voyeurism, either, but I do have a thing for men in uniforms. Or out of them. And these two were definitely out of uniform. No doubt who was leading this parade. Two stiff cocks, one fair and one dark, preceded two large, very masculine, utterly naked hunks into the room. Yeah, I know sex in the work place is against departmental policy, but I mean after all, what were they going to do, fire me?

  Did I mention Kara’s engaged to the Chief?

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  Shelby Morgen

  Award winning author Shelby Morgen loves writing off-beat tales that defy as many rules as possible. She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, Suspense with her Romance, and kink with her sex. She’s always had a hard time keeping Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Paranormal from mixing with her kink. Fortunately for Shelby, electronic publishing has opened many new doors for cross-genre authors and artists.

  Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her long time friend and partner, Bill, her husband of 23 -- err,
make that 24 -- years. Visit Shelby’s websites -- www.MargaretRiley.com to see what she’s been up to as an editor, and www.ShelbyMorgen.com for her latest releases.

  When you can catch her awake and not buried up to her eyebrows in work, Shelby will assure you this is the best job in the world -- she’s the keeper of dreams.