Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Lily and Cammy get ready for their night out|
Chapter 14, In which Cammy comes out
Cammy found me primping in my tiny bedroom. "Hey, Lily, are you almost ready to go?"
"Just about," I replied, checking my hair a final time in the mirror to make sure every platinum blonde strand was in its expected place. It was a process I could perform in my sleep, and thankfully about the only one I needed to worry about; the remainder of my makeup was permanent.
I appreciated the convenience. I knew I was the low girl on the totem pole, just the Richwell house slut, but I couldn't escape the feeling the entire place would implode if I wasn't on hand to keep things moving along. When the job required long hours and high-maintenance uniforms, anything that saved time was a winner in my book.
"What are you going to wear?" Cammy asked, twirling a finger in one dark pigtail and aimlessly twisting a foot back and forth.
She was the new intern Linnea Richwell had hired, and I hadn't made up my mind if she was going to make my life easier or harder. Cammy seemed to be the latest in a series of ditzy eye-candy staffers that Linnea was prone to hiring.
I'd mumbled about it, ever so indirectly, to my boss, Irene, the only person in the place who seemed to have a shred of business sense. She'd smiled, told me not to worry myself over the business end of things, and reminded me that if Linnea wanted to hire every centerfold model in the city, it was her prerogative.
Cammy wasn't a model, that I knew of, but she was undeniably attractive. All of us were, the same way we were all lesbian or at least bisexual. Although Cammy had admitted she hadn't been with a girl until she'd started her internship! All of us sported the same look -- heavy mascara and eyeliner, glossy lips, and bared pussies -- that drove me, at least, wild with desire.
Speaking of which... "Come over here, Cammy." I watched her sway across the room on her deliciously high heels, the hem of her short plaid skirt almost high enough for me to see her bared cunny. A single button struggled to hold her sheer black blouse closed over her midriff. "Are you wearing that tonight?"
She giggled. "Do I look like somebody who wants to get raped or arrested?"
I suppressed a quelling look. Her outfit wasn't particularly unusual; it didn't show anything more than my uniform did, although just at the moment I was still naked after having gotten out of the shower.
We hadn't even left, and already Cammy was getting on my nerves. The evening ahead was starting to look worse and worse to me, but people didn't say "no" to Linnea. At least I didn't, unless I wanted to wet myself uncontrollably. I couldn't understand how she thought any of this was a good idea.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd been outside the Richwell residence, but Linnea had tasked me with tracking down this mysterious man who'd been sniffing around asking questions about her that morning. I didn't know anything about him except his name -- Xavier -- but she seemed confident I'd be able to do it.
Assuming for the sake of argument I was successful, my assignment didn't end there -- I had to get one or more of his hairs, preferably without him noticing, and then return them to Linnea. He was a hefty guy, probably twice my weight, and there was no question who would come out on the losing end if we got into a tussle. Linnea's response to that consideration had been to stick me with Cammy for backup.
Listening to my "backup" worry about getting raped while tugging on her pigtails wasn't helping my confidence. It wasn't the raping part -- I had a sincere appreciation for the male anatomy and not much chance to indulge it. It was the disappointing Linnea part; my bladder was twitching just thinking about it.
Without any preamble, Cammy abruptly announced, "Linnea's really upset with you!"
I lost it completely and a heavy stream of urine jetted from my urethra. It traveled only a short distance before encountering the delicate bell hanging from my clit ring and then spraying all over my legs and the floor. I'd have to get the puddles cleaned up before they damaged the hardwood flooring, but first I needed to apologize to Linnea about whatever I'd done!
"Hey, cool down," Cammy told me, blocking my path to the door. "I was just kidding, okay?"
My heart settled back into something approaching a normal rhythm. "Jesus, Cammy! Why did you do that?" I glared at her, my annoyance at having to spend time cleaning up overcoming any embarrassment.
"I could see you were nervous," she said, giggling again. "You wouldn't want to be fighting it all night, right?' Her eyes dropped. "Besides, it was so cool; your bell tinkles when you tinkle!"
It was hard to stay upset at somebody who was so irrepressibly upbeat. That still left the floor, but I realized the solution to that problem was staring me right in the face, so to speak. "Just clean up the floor and don't do it again."
She snagged my damp towel off the foot of the bed, dumped it on the floor, and then pushed it around in vaguely mop-like fashion. I would have used my tongue, but that was Cammy -- unconventional and resourceful. She'd been clever enough to help me snag a hair from Xavier's companion, too. Maybe she'd be more help than trouble, after all.
"Now my legs -- and no towel," I told her.
Cammy grinned and knelt, obviously aware of where I was headed, and all too willing to oblige. I was forbidden to masturbate, but I needed to get cleaned up and technically it wasn't self-administered. Part of my conscience thought that maybe Linnea wouldn't see it that way, but she had Miriam licking her all the time, and my bladder was empty anyway.
By the time my legs passed muster, they were trembling. Cammy was admirably methodical, and by the time her kitten tongue finally reached my dripping pussy, I was leaning against her in order to maintain my balance.
Her questing fingers found the string trailing from my ass. "What about this?" Cammy asked, tugging gently in case I didn't understand.
Irene had pushed the anal beads into me that morning, and then forgotten about them. <I>I</I> hadn't, but I knew there was no way I'd get the entire string out without cumming. "I think you'd better take them out," I said breathlessly.
The intern smirked, and began pulling -- slowly. She blew gently on my bell, making it chime, and then turned her attention to my throbbing clit as the first bead emerged.
I gasped convulsively as Cammy's tongue pushed at my clit and the two rings that trapped it, sending jolts of arousal through my body. My labia glistened with desire, and I couldn't hold off an orgasm when the next bead popped free. If she was as new to this as she claimed, I shuddered to think how good Cammy would be after some additional practice.
"Get on the bed," I panted after I could think straight again. I loved everything the brunette was doing, but I wanted more and I was desperate for the taste of her pussy.
She quickly looked up at me, understood what I wanted, and then scrambled into position.
I climbed on top of her and flipped up the plaid skirt so I could admire her bared mound. It looked almost as inviting as Linnea's, and a moment later I discovered it tasted just as good, too.
Cammy made broad strokes of her tongue down the length of my pussy, now that my bell was hanging out of the way, and started jiggling the string of beads.
There was no way I was going to let a beginner show me up, even if I wasn't at least as aroused by the giving as by the receiving. One thing I knew my way around was a pussy -- why, I'd been servicing Linnea even before Miriam! -- and I was delighted to demonstrate the extent of my knowledge.
"Fuck! Fuck! Oh, fuck!" I heard Cammy gasp before she retaliated by yanking the remainder of the beads free in one inexorable pull. My bell was clinking almost continually, tossed up and down by the frantic jerking of our bodies. I thought for sure I was going to explode, and take her with me.
I wasn't sure if Cammy had cum once or twice, but we were both flushed and sated by the time we were breathing normally a few minutes later. "So, what are you going to wear?" I asked from where I'd collapsed beside her on the bed.
"Jeans," she said, making it sound like a question. "We don't want to attract too much notice, right?"
"Um." I grimaced. I wore shorts when exercising, primarily to keep my bell from getting tangled in any of the equipment; jeans were a nonstarter, if I'd even owned any. It seemed like the dresses I wore during the day were out.
Feeling suddenly grumpy, I rolled onto my feet and surveyed the sorry state of my wardrobe. "I don't have anything!" I complained.
"What about that skirt?" Cammy asked, standing beside me. "It looks cute."
I looked where she was pointing but didn't see anything. "What?"
"The denim one," she prompted. After a minute without any response, she reached out and snagged a garment.
The light must have been bad, because I literally hadn't seen where Cammy had gotten it from, but I had to admit the little denim miniskirt looked fiendishly attractive once I'd slipped it on. "I didn't even remember owning this!" I told Cammy after checking the mirror. For some reason, just the sight of me in it made me feel more upbeat.
I couldn't feel bad, even after both of us failed to locate a top that passed muster. I had a pair of staid three-inch heels that would be okay, but I couldn't very well go topless.
"Don't worry," Cammy reassured me. "I have a top you can borrow. Just use this for now." She handed me her black blouse, which was tighter on me than it had been on her, but apparently we'd torn off the button she'd been using anyway, so I just used the next one down.
I put on some costume jewelry Linnea had loaned me, and I was ready to go.
Almost. "Do you have your ID?" Cammy asked.
"No." I looked at her blankly. I knew I'd put my license... I shook my head, frustrated. I was sure I had one -- well, pretty sure -- I knew how to drive, even if I hadn't done it recently. Now that I thought about it, my credit cards were in the same black hole. "I don't know where anything is; they must have gotten lost in the move."
Cammy looked at me a little strangely. "You don't have anything?" She giggled then, and added, "I guess we'll just have to go somewhere that won't try to card you."
I smiled back, feeling better. "Linnea did give me some cash!" I tucked the bills into one of the skirt's diminutive pockets. I touched up my lips with a tiny super-wet hot pink gloss, and tucked it into the other pocket. "I'm ready!"
"Let's get my stuff and we can go," she replied.
We trooped down the back stairs to the exercise room. It had a large bathroom, verging on a spa, and a small bank of lockers. I hadn't realized, until she started changing, that Cammy didn't arrive in the same clothes she wore during the day.
My eyes went wide when I spied the pistol in the bottom of her shoulder bag. "Cammy, a gun! Isn't that dangerous?" I had a scary mental vision of her giggling while randomly shooting holes in things, including me.
She giggled, not reassuringly, and finished pulling on her jeans. "Don't worry," Cammy smiled, "I'm a cop."
"You are not!" I blurted, totally off balance.
"Am too!" she replied, sticking out her tongue at me. Reaching into the bag, Cammy fished out an official-looking badge on a lanyard, displayed it to me, and then pulled it over her head.
I couldn't see any reason for her to pretend to be a police officer if she wasn't, but it just seemed so bizarre. "Well, but Cammy, if you already have a job, why would you want to be an intern here? Not that it probably isn't safer than getting shot at all the time."
"There isn't a lot of shooting," Cammy replied. "I work in Vice." We both looked at each other for a moment before bursting into peals of laughter.
"No," I gasped helplessly, "they didn't send you here, did they?" She managed to nod, setting us both off again. It was so ridiculous! Finally I got myself under control, not wanting to disturb the Richwells with our noise. "I'd think Vice would be a lot more fun than here; sometimes when Irene gets busy, I feel like I'm going to burst."
Cammy let a trace of unhappiness show as she pulled on a knit shirt. "It's not what you think, Lily; there's a lot more talking and less doing, if you know what I mean." She gave me a grateful look. "You made me cum harder than I have in a long time."
My cheeks heated a little; I felt embarrassed to be thanked for something I'd done mostly for myself. "But why here?" I asked, refusing to let myself be distracted. "There's nothing weird going on, and I'd know it if there was."
"I know," she agreed, stepping back into her shoes. "I've told my Captain that until I'm sick of it, and he just tells me to keep digging."
We shook our heads at the institutional idiocy of management and headed for the lobby. "Well, that's just dumb," I spoke up again. "Maybe somebody's lying to him; the Richwells have a lot of money and I suppose a few enemies, too." It was a novel idea; Linnea was overpowering at times, but how could anybody not love her?
Cammy snorted. "More than a few. The parents have reputations, although I suppose you know that."
I nodded. Both of them were perverts or sex maniacs, which was why Linnea was running everything. I'd never seen Mr. Richwell when he wasn't jacking off and cursing up a storm, and Mrs. Richwell had a thing for young girls, which through continuous efforts had so far remained unrequited. The family fortune had been sufficient to keep them out of the public eye, but it didn't surprise me the police were aware of the situation.
"But there's a lot more," the brunette continued. "Rumors of girls gone missing, prostitution rings, kidnapping, you name it. We had somebody at the precinct swearing up and down that Linnea was being held hostage and we needed to rescue her." She smirked at me and I laughed at the thought of it. "Right. I've been all over that place, and if somebody had a harem stashed somewhere, I would have found it."
The thought of having a harem, or being in one, actually was a little arousing, but I tried to concentrate on the problem. "Do you suppose Xavier and Kim are related to this somehow?"
There was momentary silence while we rode the elevator down and Cammy let out her pigtails and collected her hair into a loose ponytail. It and the expression on her face added nearly a decade to her apparent age. "I don't know," she said finally. "I distrust coincidences, and the Captain thinks with this much smoke, there has to be fire somewhere."
My misgivings about our outing were coming back in a rush. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this -- I knew how to be a house slut, and enjoyed it. What if I got kidnapped, or worse? Who really knew what this Xavier character wanted?
"Don't worry," Cammy said, apparently reading my thoughts on my face. "I'll take care of us." She hesitated. "Just don't go around telling people I'm a cop, okay? Linnea knows, of course, but I don't know who else is really trustworthy."
I nodded and smiled. "Sure. But, Cammy -- how do you know you can trust me?"
Cammy giggled. "You're an open book, Lily. Everybody knows you're kind-hearted, and I've seen the way you look up to Irene and Linnea. You can't even think of disappointing them without peeing yourself -- there's no way you could betray them and hide the fact."
She had a point. "Okay, but--" I realized I'd stopped in front of the building like I thought a car was going to be waiting for me or something, and hurried to catch up with Cammy. A few passers-by eyed me, giving me a bad moment, but then I realized they were just watching to see if my boobs were going to fall out of Cammy's blouse or not. I didn't see Xavier anywhere.
"Don't you have a partner?" I asked when I caught up again. An extra pair of eyes in the back of my head would have felt pretty good about then.
"Not on this assignment," Cammy said, looking momentarily morose again. "You may have noticed Linnea doesn't hire many men. I don't think it's a problem, but we probably shouldn't discuss any of this in public."
We talked about inconsequential things on the ride across town, like what Miriam's tongue piercing must feel like or the relative merits of mascara and false lashes. Cammy made a terse call to somebody, reporting no progress but mentioning she was following up on a possible lead. It was sort of nice, being out for a night on the town with a girlfriend. Well, acquaintance.
"We aren't being followed," she commented at one point after I'd looked behind for about the hundredth time. "I've been watching, and I'd know."
"This is it," Cammy finally told me, standing in front of a little walk-up duplex. "Just don't say too much, okay?"
"I'll be good, I promise." I gave her a quick hug since she seemed a little nervous, and we walked up onto the porch.
"Mommy!" screamed a little toddler, before we'd even made it through the door. "Mommy's home!" He propelled himself straight at Cammy, and she swooped him into her arms and then lifted him for a sloppy kiss.
"J.J.!" she cooed. "How's my little man? Did you miss me?"
A man, this one full-sized, stepped out from the kitchen and gave us an appraising look. "An unexpected dinner guest, Cameron? Couldn't you have called?"
Cammy lowered the boy back to the floor. "Sampson, this is Lily; she's an associate of mine. Lily, this is my husband, Sampson, and my son, J.J." Perfunctory introductions completed, she turned back to face him. "We won't be able to stay for dinner; I have something to do tonight."
The man's face clouded over; I had the feeling I'd offended him somehow. "Yeah, I know," he grumped. "You don't get to plan your hours."
J.J. was less restrained. "She has a jingle bell!" he announced to the world, before raising his curious eyes to my face. "Are you an elf?"
He was so precious! "No, I'm a slut," I corrected him, unable to restrain a smile. "Do you like it?" I asked, raising the hem of my skirt so he could have a better view of the bell.
"Jesus Christ!" Sampson exploded, making all of us jump. "J.J.! Get away from her, right now!" He looked daggers at both me and Cammy. "What are you doing? Don't you have any decency?"
Cammy grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the room before I could respond. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "but he's been so up-tight and grumpy lately. It's not your fault."
"Do you pay your associates by the hour?" her husband shouted from the kitchen. Cammy ignored him and slammed the bedroom door behind us.
"No, it's okay. I should have thought. J.J. is still a little young, isn't he?" I giggled at my joke, but Cammy just looked depressed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
She flopped on the twin bed, staring at the ceiling, and her eyes looked suspiciously wet. "I don't know. Do you ever feel like your life is just completely off track?"
I sat beside her and clasped her hand. "What do you mean? Sampson's just upset with me. I'm sure everything will be fine."
"It's more than that," Cammy sighed, sitting up and staring morosely into space. "I think I'm starting my midlife crisis early." After a moment of silence, she continued, "It's been really rough with Sam; our sex life is in the dumps and we just get on each other's nerves all the time."
"Maybe I could help," I offered. "Do you think he'd like a three-way?"
Cammy's mouth twitched, but didn't quite reach a smile. "That's sweet, Lily, but he's not the problem -- I am." She took a deep breath. "I'm just not attracted to him anymore, or any man."
I nodded understandingly.
"Ever since I met her, all I can think about is Linnea. I get all distracted and flustered just thinking I might see her -- I know you must think I'm an airhead. I've had these dreams, too. It's not fair to Sam, but I can't help how I feel."
"But, Cammy," I protested, "it's completely normal to feel that way. Linnea is so hot I think you'd have to be dead not to want her." Just talking about it was making me wet. "You know everybody else thinks so, too. When she let me lick her this afternoon, I could have stayed there all day!"
She sighed. "Stop it! You're making me jealous -- and horny." A smile reassured me she was just teasing. "I think I'd give almost anything to trade places with Miriam; that's why I've been thinking about getting a tongue stud. But when I mentioned it to Sam, he looked at me like I was crazy!" Cammy appeared to be at her wit's end.
"You're not crazy!" I told Cammy, hugging her for extra reassurance. "And you don't need to have a tongue stud to be twice the babe that Miriam is." Our embrace grew a little tighter.
Cammy wriggled just enough that she could look me in the eyes. "You think you're just a slut, Lily, but you're more than that. Something about you always catches my eye, and I think you have more heart -- and more brains -- than anybody else at the Richwells'. Even Linnea!"
I thought she was going to say something more, but instead she kissed me hard. My mind was whirling, trying to take it all in. I was afraid maybe Cammy was crushing on me, confused by her conflicting feelings for Linnea and Sampson. My heart was curiously empty; perhaps the depth of my adoration for Linnea had left me incapable of feeling romantic attraction towards another.
Physical desire, however, I could do. I kissed Cammy back and palmed a tit through the fabric of her shirt, squeezing it until she moaned around my tongue. She reciprocated, the gaping blouse providing easy access, and my back arched as I reacted to the stimulus of her rough fingertips on my turgid nipples.
We broke apart by mutual consent and began fumbling with our clothes. I was lucky; the button on the blouse was already gone, so it was the work of only a minute to slide it off and cast it aside. Cammy was struggling with her jeans, the strength of her desire making her clumsy.
"Let me," I insisted, batting her hands away and quickly stripping the soft denim down to her knees. At that point, there was no way I wasn't going to bury my face in her creaming snatch and eat her out. I was rewarded with her sweet moisture and a loud moan.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted us. "Are you okay in there? You're upsetting J.J." Sampson sounded suspicious.
"We're fine," Cammy gasped, and then sucked in her breath as I blew softly across her wet pussy.
I stared at her, willing her to take a chance, reach out and invite him in. The moment passed.
"We should get moving," Cammy shakily announced.
The slut inside me wanted to argue, but the rest of me remembered what Linnea wanted -- and I wasn't going to find Xavier between Cammy's thighs. Reluctantly I let her go and climbed to my feet while she kicked off her jeans.
Cammy opened the closet door and revealed a wardrobe lifted from a pervert's wet dream. "You didn't think I worked undercover in my uniform, did you?" she smiled, clearly pleased by my obvious delight. "Here's the top I was thinking of."
It was sparkly and metallic, but ran smoothly through my fingers like silk or satin. Once I got it on, I understood why Cammy hadn't worried about the sizing; for something with so much fabric, it covered surprisingly little. The drape was feminine and attractive, but came below my breasts in front and nearly to my waist in back and under my arms. The fabric hung from the tips of my nipples, emphasizing them and gently teasing me into the bargain.
By the time I'd finished admiring myself in the small mirror on the back of the door, Cammy had finished changing. "You like?" she asked, turning so I could see the full effect.
"I thought you were going to wear jeans," I replied. "Not that I'm complaining." The skin-tight leather shorts had no inseam to speak of, sat low on her hips, and had a big chrome zipper that ran from the front down between her legs and all the way up the crack of her ass. A pair of matching leather triangles more or less covered Cammy's tits. The chains holding them in place didn't look adjustable, except for the hook clasp between the cups, so it must have been made for her.
"It's your fault, for getting me worked up," laughed Cammy. "I couldn't wear anything as boring as a pair of jeans now -- especially with you looking as hot as you do." She pulled a pair of boots from the closet and stepped into them; they came up past her knees.
I swallowed as I watched the curve of her ass beneath the shorts when she reached down to zip up the boots. "How is this going to help us find Xavier, again?" It was really hard to stay focused with her in front of me.
"Trust me," Cammy said. She tucked her badge down one boot, and opened a gun safe I hadn't noticed in the back of the closet. "Remember, we're trying to let him find us, right?" She exchanged the handgun from her bag for a smaller pistol that went into the other boot. "We'll just hang out at some places that Linnea goes to; if he's looking for her, he'll probably know them, too."
She pulled on a little bolero jacket that matched the rest of her outfit. "How do I look?"
"Ravishing, I think. But your makeup needs a lot of work." The thought prompted me to pull out my gloss and bring my lips back to their full luster.
My brain finally caught up to her earlier comment. "Linnea goes out to clubs?" It was hard to think of her anywhere except running the Richwell Trust from her office, but I supposed she deserved time off just like anybody else.
"Sure," Cammy said, tracing her eyes carefully with liner. "I think we'll try 'Slutz' first -- it's a lesbian fetish club. You know Miriam used to work there?"
"Really? I thought she was born between Linnea's legs"
"I think I detect a faint hint of jealousy," jibed Cammy, smirking. "She was a bar girl, I hear."
"And now she makes a living licking Linnea," I sighed, and shook myself. "Talk about deja vu!"
"What?" Cammy asked, looking over at me.
"Nothing. Here, let me help," I said, taking the mascara brush from her to cover my momentary discomfort. "You'll be all night."
"Mmm. Obviously you've had more practice," she complimented me a few minutes later.
"You'll pick it up," I assured her. "I didn't learn it all in a day, either."
"That's reassuring," Cammy said dryly. She paused and looked more closely at me. "What did you do before, Lily? Before you started working for Irene? You're the only person at the Richwell residence we couldn't get a background on."
Her question took me by surprise. "I've always been a slut," I whispered, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. Trying to remember more hurt; a dribble of urine leaked from my empty bladder. "I -- Linnea is my life," I blurted, feeling obscurely comforted by the statement.
Cammy reached out and brushed my cheek gently. "You don't have to talk about it," she assured me.
I shuddered and took a deep breath. "Maybe later," I prevaricated, hoping I wouldn't ever have to think about it again. The past meant pain and hurtfulness and loss. "Let's just have fun tonight."
The brunette winked at me. "It's a deal. And now, for the crowning achievement..." She lifted a tousled auburn wig from a stand on the closet shelf and set it atop her head.
It looked wild, like she'd just left an orgy, but it wasn't right. "Oh, no," I said impulsively, "your own hair is so much prettier, Cammy!"
She looked in the mirror for a moment, and then put the wig back on its stand. "I guess you're right," she admitted. "But not like this." Cammy unfastened the ponytail and teased her hair out with her fingers. "I don't want to wash it. Damn."
Her dark locks were dirty, and unfortunately looked more like bad bedroom hair than good bedroom hair. "Maybe the pigtails?" It was the way I was used to seeing her.
Cammy giggled, suddenly sounding like the intern I knew, and held her hair in two handfuls on either side of her head. "Oh, you watch!" she giggled again, quickly brushing out her hair before beginning to braid it. "I am so going to get carded tonight!"
"Don't let Mrs. Richwell see you," I told her when she finished. Cammy looked absolutely adorable, and I already knew I wasn't going to make it through the night without doing her again. "And stop playing with that unless you intend to use it!"
She stopped flicking the zipper on her shorts and stuck out her tongue at me. "Ready?"
I checked my pockets for the lip gloss and cash. Courage, I wasn't so sure of, but I had Cammy. "Ready."
We exited the room and I wondered what she was going to tell her husband, but it turned out not to matter.
"Ladies," Xavier greeted us from his comfortable sprawl on the sofa, "I thought we might have a little talk."
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