There's a space of a couple of hours after between the end of practice and the gig, so you busy Andrea with tending to the Varnsworth garden. It's tedious work, but the repetition is calming to her and the earth feels nice beneath your feet, so you let yourself fall into your host's native rhythm as you cultivate. However, the ring of a doorbell snaps you out of your zone in a way that it realistically shouldn't. You feel a wave of irritation overcome you as you gracefully rise to your feet and glide to the front door.
"It's been forever since we hung out, Drea!" Charles Hartlein, President of the Drama Club and constant annoyance to Andrea, wails melodramatically as he saunters in to your house without waiting for an invitation.
"It's been a week, Charles," you retort, closing the door behind him.
"Have you eaten yet? I'm dying for some home cooking," Charles responds while ignoring you.
"I was going to fix some vegetable soup," you lie, following him.
"Oooooh, I think I'll have some of that, right after I beat you at Monopoly." You feel a spasm of irritation at the impudent grin he shoots you. Andrea's patience is such that Charles' antics no longer bother her, but you aren't a particular fan of his attitude. Fuck it, you decide, now's as good a time as any. Quickly scrubbing her mind of anything incriminating, you speak up.
"Actually, Charles, I've got something else for you." He raises an eyebrow, quizzically. Andrea's never bothered to go out of her way to give him anything. "
"Oh? Do tell." Wordlessly, you stalk up to him, grab him by the head, and shove your lips against his. You feel him tense under your grip, and he tries to pull away, but Andrea's strong, and you're quick to leave her and enter him. Once you've got control you drag the sagging Andrea (who is quite heavy) and set her in front of her basket in the garden.
"You gave up your spot on the team for little old me, Drea? I'm touched, truly," you say to her unconscious form in your new smarmy voice. Then you wipe his memory of ever coming to Andrea's and totter him off to his car and send him home. You've no desire to keep Charles for long, but he can be useful in his own way.
======
You stare at yourself in the mirror. Jelena Petrovich, face covered in make up, looks back at you. Her hair looks messy, but upon closer inspection is deliberately styled to look unfettered and free, like a the mane of a wild stallion. Ruby lips smile back at you. You're dressed in a shirtless black t-shirt and ripped jeans. You look like a punk. It's intentional, though, as your setlist consists of faster-paced songs with more emphasis on instrumentals. Also, you want to look your best, as there has been a cute Asian college co-ed that's been to the past few gigs whom Jelena finds very fetching. And as your parting gift to your host it is your goal today to hook up with her.
"Yell, you ready?" K.C. asks, planting her hands on your shoulders, though in reality you who says it, as you've been in control of K.C. ever since you've absorbed her mind fully. "We're on in five."
"Yeah, I'm good," you tell yourself, adjusting the studded leather armbands on your wrists.
"You look good," K.C. says, then shoots you a wry smile. "Think she'll be here today?" You give your bandmate a knowing smile, but say nothing.
"Hey, we're up, guys," Zoe -the bassist- says, poking her head into the room. She's slightly heavier set than the rest of her bandmates, but her short blonde hair and penchant for black clothes give her a goth look that does her well.
"You ready for this?" you ask your younger sister, flashing a teasing smirk.
"Born ready," you tell your older sister, flashing that same smirk.
You walk onstage and pick up your guitar, giving it a few testing strums while you simultaneously adjust the volume on the keyboard and test the microphones. With two pairs of eyes you scan the not insignificant crowd -The Warehouse is usually packed on Fridays and weekends, and tonight is no exception- until you find your target, standing near the bar.
"What's up everybody!" You exclaim into K.C.'s microphone, prompting a cheer from the audience. "We are Slow Fast Hazel and you're about to have your fucking minds exploded!" You wait a solid five seconds for the hollering to die down, and then launch into your first song.
Glorious is the only word that could describe your performance.
Determined to give Jelena a badass send off, you let your fingers glide across the fretboard with a vigor that your host never could manage while at the same time your dextrous fingers dance about the keyboard. The energy between your sibling bodies is palpable, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Even your bandmates pick up on it, the intensity driving their performances to new heights. You scream into the microphones with two mouths, ignoring the sweat pouring down your faces. When it's all over, far too soon while also seeming like an eternity, it's probably the best performance the band has ever given.
Hell, it may be one of the best moments in the life of either Petrovic.
The crowd cheers for an encore, but Jelena's too busy searching for the girl to care. You're pleased to find she's still at the bar, watching you and the band intently. You look back towards K.C. pleadingly. She nods.
"Chase that rainbow, sis. We'll clean up here." You grin, and hop down from the stage. You wade through the crowd, thanking everyone who praises you and returning every high five offered, until you finally make it to the bar. You slip onto a seat next to her and try to get the bartender's attention. The girl notices you first.
"Hey," she says. You turn to look at her in all her glory: a cut off tee and tight jeans, make up wings spreading out past her eyes and dark hair that settles loosely around her. Oh yes, you can definitely see why Jelena's attracted to her. "You're with the band, right? Slow Fast Hazel?"
You nod and offer your hand with a smile. "Yeah. I'm Jelena."
She takes your hand in her own, elegant, spindly fingers wrapping around your digits. "I love you guys," she says, leaning in so you can hear her as the club's sound systems begin to pick up.
The two of you chat over drinks for what feels like an hour for Jelena but only about half that time in reality, during which time you learn the her name is Umeko and she's a freshman at Keyserling. You talk about meaningless things, like teachers and ideal vacation spots, all the while slowly becoming more openly affectionate with each other. By the time Umeko suggests the two of you go somewhere more private you've both got a pretty nice rapport going, and you happily accept.
"One room, please," you tell the large Hispanic man guarding the stairs to the second floor, where all the private rooms are.
"Fifty bucks," he says. Umeko begins to dig around in her pockets, but you produce fifty dollars instantly -you've extra money to burn- and place it in his meaty hands. "Room 3." The two of you giggle gaily and hurry up the stairs. The room, when you enter it, is dark, and once you turn the light on a singular bulb turns the room a sickly color. You waste no time in divesting yourself of your clothes the moment the door shuts, and within seconds your jeans and shirt are on the ground, leaving you in inly a bra and thong. Umeko giggles, but you capture her lips in a quick kiss. Then you do it again, and this time the kiss is deeper, then again, and you probe deeper still. You topple sideways onto the bed.
Eventually the two of you must come up for air, and when you do, she gives you a small smile. You lean back on your bed and grin at her. She crawls on top of you, spinning round till the buttons of her tight jeans hover just in front of your face. As your work your nimble fingers to undo the buttons, your feel her pull aside your thong.
You shudder and jolt as her tongue makes contact with your cunny. You try to redouble your own efforts with Umeko’s jeans, but your fingers are suddenly clumsy. You gasp, little sharp shocks of breath, as Umeko traces odd patterns with her tongue. Finally you manage to peel her jeans away, as well as the white panties underneath. Now Umeko’s shaven pussy is just inches in front of your face.
You twist gently onto your side, lowering Umeko’s hips in front of you. Then you pull her closer before leaning in and running your own tongue over her. She shivers and there is the briefest of breaks in the wave of sensations spreading up your back. Then you and Umeko both begin your efforts anew.
As you begin lapping at her vagina you let worm form on your tongue and send it slithering over her clit and into her. She groans loudly as you dissolve into her. Then, she cums with a shudder.
Your vision swims, and you feel your new body spasming erratically. A core of rests in your pussy, and you are somehow simultaneously dully and sharply aware of the tongue that's lapping at it. Instinctively, you press yourself against it, trying to get it deeper into you while clutching her head between your knees. As Jelena, you let your tongue roam inside Umeko to feed the post-coital buzz. Once you're recovered, you dive into Jelena with renewed vigor, lapping at her until she cums. A second worm comes scuttling out and over your tongue, and dissolves into you.
Then you sit them up and set them to cuddling and nibbling at each other's lips.
"That was amazing," you say aloud in Umeko's voice. "You're amazing."
"You're amazing too," you reply in Jelena's voice. "I'm glad you came today. You'll be especially fun to be, I think."
"Won't you stay in Jelena a bit longer?" you plead softly, burying your face in the crook of Jelena's soft neck. "I like being us. Being together."
"I'll think about it."
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author