Biker Bitch
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Ten: Sisters of Satan

Natalie Styles decided to cool things down with the Cartel for a while. The listening devices Cassie had planted in Carlo’s house were providing valuable evidence and intelligence for the FBI and a strategic decision was made to allow the Medici’s to keep importing drugs, girls, and weapons into the USA. Intel was passed onto local law enforcement agencies as a third order effect so when busts were made across the south and mid-west, they were not linked to the point of importation, leaving the Medicis to think their operation was safe.

Cassie did the normal sort of things bikers did. She went to church, she provided security for the illegal imports which was now the Chapter’s main source of income, she went on runs, her chapter met up with other chapters of the Beasts of Burden to party; and she drank. She drank a lot; as did all bikers. She stayed away from drugs though and she kept herself fit with gruelling workouts every day. Once a week she met up with Natalie during one of her tortuous cross-country runs and they talked business; and when their schedules allowed it they would meet and make love.

Theirs was a strange relationship. Natalie was Cassie’s boss and had no compunction sending Cassie into danger to achieve the FBI’s objectives but she also had a genuine fondness for Cassie that went beyond friendship. It was an acute balancing act, keeping their love lives and professional lives apart.

As for Cassie, she too was intimately attached to Natalie but mature enough to realise it wasn’t quite love. She had feelings for Dale Clifford too and allowed him to hop in and out of her bed when it suited her but she was irritated by his jealousy and possessiveness.

Cassie was still enjoying the freedom and exhilaration of being a trans woman. After years of being a secret crossdresser, it was empowering and gratifying to be out and about as a woman. She didn’t care if she was identified as a transsexual woman, she was happy being trans and did not yet aspire to fully transition.

It was at least two months after Cassie got busted by the ATF when Natalie dropped a case file on Cassie’s coffee table. Natalie had called ahead to make sure the coast was clear for her to visit.

“You heard of the Sisters of Satan?” Natalie lit a cigarette and sipped the coffee that Cassie had made.

“Nuh! I don’t think so. Wait a minute…that thug Paul Zabinsky from the ATF mentioned them when he was questioning me. They’re an all girl MC out of Nevada I think; but they’re a Riding Club right?” Cassie flicked open the file.

A Riding Motorcycle Club is not really that different to an Outlaw Motorcycle Club in how it operates except for the obvious; they do not get involved in illegal activities. Some OMCs have Riding Clubs affiliated with them so they can carry out legitimate business through them but law enforcement soon figures out who is who.

“They used to be a Riding Club but they have gone outlaw,” Natalie explained.

“They only have six full-patch members and about as many prospects, so they are a tiny one-chapter MC operating out of Las Vegas. They operate as an all-girl MC with a Miz Jill Saint John as their President.”

“While they stayed legit the big three OMCs weren’t interested in them because they don’t take women members and up until now the Sisters of Satan were small fry,” Natalie stubbed out her cigarette and finished her coffee.

“Got anything stronger babe?” Natalie winked at Cassie who reached for a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and two glasses.

“So what’s changed for me to be interested?” Cassie poured drinks.

“Turns out Jill Saint John used to work in a Casino. She’s educated; went to college and did a business degree; started out as a croupier and worked her way up to shift manager.”

“Anyway the Kansas City Mob wanted to open a small casino in Las Vegas, something off the strip but big enough so that they can launder their money through it. Somehow Jill Saint John came onto the scene and she got a casino licence and opened up using mob money. Her and her MC operate the Medusa casino,” Natalie lit another cigarette and waved her empty glass at Cassie.

“Anyway it’s lucrative and it works for both the MC and for the KC Mob,” Natalie said as Cassie topped off her drink.

“The mob uses hired patsies to lose the mob’s money at the casino and the Sisters return the laundered cash to KC during their runs. It’s a pretty smart operation.”

“It’s all in the file. Read in and get yourself educated. I’m going to drop the file into our Pasadena Field Office and make sure our double agent gets her hands on it. The information is too juicy for her not to give it to Diego Martinez and for him not give to Steve Monahan,” Natalie smiled conspiratorially.

“And Steve ‘Beast’ Monahan proposes we cut ourselves in because the Sisters aren’t aligned with any other MC so they have no protection. And the Mob can’t touch the Beasts of Burden without starting a war with the Medici Cartel,” Cassie clinked her glass against Natalie’s and sipped the burning liquid.

“You’re not just a pretty face are you?” Natalie pulled Cassie to her and kissed her.

“I suppose the file can wait until tomorrow,” Cassie grinned and returned Natalie’s kisses.

At the next office holder’s meeting Diego Martinez was invited and so was Cassie. Steve Monahan invited Diego to speak.

“This one I give you for free. The Medici’s have no interest in the proposition other than for the Beasts of Burden to profit from the information and of course, for a certain mid west Mafioso to start losing a lot of cash,” Diego chuckled.

“What’s this about?” Dale Clifford asked.

“Diego’s people came across some information about this little OMC in Las Vegas called the Sisters of Satan. They’re running a casino on behalf of the KC Mafia. They’re a tin pot Club with half a dozen members and few probies so they’re ripe for the picking,” Steve explained.

“The Beasts os Burden have a Chapter in Vegas, Beast; why not send them in and get them to pass on a cut of the take to us?’ Snake Gibbons, the club secretary asked.

“Good point Snake. But this little OMC is different. They’re all slits,” Steve grinned.

“Oh! No offence Cassie,” he apologised.

“None taken boss; I don’t have one,” Cassie smiled back.

“We could just hijack the money during the runs but I’d prefer a permanent piece of the pie so I’m sending Cassie in,” Steve said.

“Why Cassie?” Snake interjected.

“Because in case you haven’t noticed Snake; and I’m sure you have, you’re not stupid; Cassie is one hot chick. She’s our chick!” Steve replied.

“And I think the Sisters are more likely to negotiate with her than any of us,” he went on.

“Cassie you hook up with Brent Peters, the Sargent at Arms for the Beasts of Burden Las Vegas Chapter. He’ll show you how things work out there and provide backup. The Sisters might be half a dozen coozes but they have a reputation and they’re connected with the mob,” Steve finished up.

Cassie could see the expression of frustration on Dale Clifford’s face and she deliberately looked away.

“So these coozes run a casino?” Cassie played dumb.

“It’s all here; care of Diego,” Steve handed Cassie a file identical to the one Natalie had given her to study.

“I’ll study it tonight and hit the road tomorrow early; its about a four hour ride,” Cassie replied taking the file.

She had half expected Dale to follow her when her rode into her yard and she wasn’t disappointed; she hadn’t even had time to dismount. He followed her inside without speaking and she took two beers from the fridge and gave him one.

“I’m not here to drink beer Cassie,” Dale started.

“If you’re not here to fuck me then just leave. I’m not interested in anything else right now,” Cassie dropped her jacket on the floor.

Cassie moulded herself to Dale’s body and kissed him. She felt him become erect immediately. She smiled to herself; she liked that she had this effect on him.

He shucked out of his jacket and Cassie snatched and clawed at his jeans, ripping open his belt and his flies, pulling his jeans down his thighs until they bunched at his knees. She took his hard cock in her hand and stroked it; she felt the precum leaking from the eye and used it to lubricate the shaft.

“Oh baby I want you so bad,” Dale mumbled through crushed lips.

“Shut up and fuck me!” Cassie hissed back into his mouth.

She shucked down her jeans and pantyhose and her own erection sprang free. Dale reached for it and Cassie slapped his hand away.

“Don’t! I’m close and I wanna come with a cock inside me,” she moaned.

Cassie spun around and leaned on the breakfast bar thrusting out her soft white derriere; offering it to Dale.

“Goddamn Cassie,” he groaned and moved behind her.

He gripped her hips and pushed. His cock slid inside her nice and easy all the way. She was tight but she was pre-lubricated.

“Fuck me Dale! Fuck me!” Cassie gyrated her buttocks and clenched and unclenched her sphincter.

She could sense that he too was close; they had made love so many times that they knew each other’s signals. Dale slowly eased himself in and out of Cassie’s tight ass but she was impatient.

“Stop that shit and fuck me like a whore!” Cassie pressed back against him and began to rock on her heels.

Dale hated it when Cassie referred to herself as a whore or used any derogatory phrase to describe herself, but she often did in the throes of passion.

Dale gave her what she wanted and fucked her hard and fast, grinding his pelvis into her soft buttocks, gripping her hips so tight that he left bruises. Cassie thrust back and forth in time with him, moaning and mouthing obscenities.

He felt her come. Her anus spasmed and her scrotum retracted, her seed splattered on the tiles and she screamed with rapture. He pushed his cock against her prostate as she had taught him to do and more creamy issue fell to the floor. She hadn’t even touched herself.

Dale held her tight against him and emptied himself inside her. Cassie tried to rut but Dale held her still. He wanted her to feel his love but all she wanted was lust.

It was awkward when they’d finished; wiping body parts, pulling up pants, zipping flies and adjusting clothing. Cassie dropped to her knees with a dishtowel and wiped up her semen.

“Jesus Cassie!” Dale hated the way Cassie was so practical when it came to having sex with him.

She liked the sex but showed him little affection.

Cassie declined Dale’s offer to sleep over; she was up early and packed her panniers ready for the trip. She dressed for the road and to impress the Las Vegas chapter of the Beasts of Burden but more importantly to impress the Sisters of Satan.

She’d recently had her hair styled keeping it straight, shoulder-length, with bangs; dyed black with subtle ruby highlights. She worked hard on her makeup. She would make a rest stop just outside of Vegas and brush out her helmet hair and fix her makeup but she wanted to look good for the road. It gave her confidence.

She slid into pantyhose and tight skinny leather pants. The leather pants looked great and also helped keep her tucked. She had pushed her testes up inside her body and tucked her penis between her legs, wrapping her empty scrotum around it and then taped it in place so that she had a smooth mound in the front of her pants with no unsightly bulge. Cassie had noticed that when she met someone for the first time or announced that she was trans, that was the first place they looked.

Cassie pulled on a pair of black work sox over the footlets of her pantyhose and squeezed her feet into a pair of Falco Ayda black leather calf-high boots. She preferred the shorter boots as they showed off her well-formed legs encased in the tight leather.

Next she pulled on a plain black spandex-cotton-blend shortsleeved t-shirt. She had decided not to wear a bra; the skintight t-shirt showed off her trim figure and pert titties.

She grabbed her panniers in one hand and her helmet, and cut in the other; she put her jacket over her arm and kicked the door closed behind her. She half expected Dale to ride up and badger her but her pebbled front yard was quiet except for distant road noise and the sounds of birds in the trees and rodents in the underbrush. She fixed the panniers to the side of her bike and kicked it over and let it rest on the stand.

She stepped back and surveyed the Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide, with its custom painted cherry red Fat Bob fuel tank and smiled to herself. She put on her black leather jacket and zipped it closed and then she put her cut on over it. The admired the colours and patches she wore on her cut, especially her road name and emblem ‘Biker Bitch’.

She smiled to herself. She was about to tangle with a whole club full of biker bitches.

She pulled on her full-face helmet with the tinted visor and stretched her neck to unclamp her hair. She caught her reflection in one of the bike’s rearview mirrors and she definitely looked like a foxy, mean-looking, sled-riding bitch.

Cassie pulled into the Beasts of Burden Las Vegas Chapter clubhouse around noon. Half a dozen members came out into the courtyard to meet her.

Cassie had stopped at a rest stop and fixed her makeup and rode without her helmet for the last couple of miles of the ride. Her makeup was heavy, lots of black eyeliner and mascara, maroon and dark blue eyeshadow, rouge and ruby red lips with a shiny long-lasting lipgloss. Her hair streamed behind her.

She expected wolf-whistles, derogatory comments, and the usual misogynist bullshit and was ready to have to lay out one of the patch holders in a fight to prove herself.

She was pleasantly surprised when Brent Peters came over and introduced himself. He was taller than Cassie but had the same lithe build; he was remarkably free of tattoos and well groomed with flowing blonde hair. He too wore tight leather pants, a black t-shirt and polished engineer boots. He wore the familiar snarling wolf insignia on the back centre of his denim vest. A rocker above the wolf insignia, emblazoned in gold letters on a black background read ‘Beasts of Burden MC’ and below it read ‘Nevada’. On the front of the vest was the usual OMC 1% badge high on the right breast and he wore his Sargent at Arms and Men of Mayhem patches.

Brent held out his hand and instead of his eyes going straight to her tits and crotch, he instead glanced at her Men of Mayhem patch and then checked out her ride.

“Harley Davidson Super Glide; but you’ve modified it. Big bike for a small framed woman but I see you ride it well,” he commented.

Cassie was again taken aback; she was expecting comments that it wasn’t a true OMC sled and also Brent called her a woman; not a chick, a cooze, a babe, a hump, or her favourite derogatory title, a cunt.

“I’m Brent Peters and you’re Cassandra Rivers. I heard a lot about you and it’s all good. Always great to get a visitor from the mother chapter,” he pointed to the ‘Original’ insignia on her cut.

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew but let’s get inside out of the sun and get you a beer to wash away the road dust,” he smiled and patted Cassie on the back.

Her gaydar was lighting up like crazy but Brent was obviously no pansy; but nor was he trying to be something he wasn’t. In the few seconds that Cassie had spent with him she had him pegged for a decent guy but not one to be fucked with. He wouldn’t be Sargent at Arms if he was in any way weak.

“Call me Cassie, please,” she smiled back at him as they strode to the clubhouse.

Introductions were made while Cassie sipped a beer and the rest of the members were as polite and gracious as Brent. She guessed they’d been warned out by their Sargent at Arms not to fuck with her.

“Our President sends his apologies. He knows you’re here and why but he and his old lady had this holiday in the Bahamas planned for months and she’d have killed him if he reneged,” Cassie bet Brent’s smile had broke many a girl’s heart.

“Can we talk business?” Cassie looked around the clubhouse.

“Sure. Let’s go to the meeting room and we can compare notes so to speak,” there was that smile again.

Brent was well briefed and knew what their objective was. He too was packed and ready to roll.

“So we go in hard wearing our colours, no subtleties?” Brent offered for Cassie’s approval.

“That’s how I see it. They’re a tiny club and except for their ties with KC they have no clout. We don’t dishonour them though. Let’s go to the casino not their clubhouse,” Cassie finished her beer.

The two Harleys burbled and growled angrily as Cassie and Brent revved the engines before shutting them down. It was a small act of defiance in the casino’s small parking lot. There were probably around fifty cars parked there, nothing flash, a few were junkers. There were no high-rollers parked here.

Cassie and Brent took the panniers from their bikes and threw them across their shoulders, their helmets were locked to the sides of their bikes. The panniers were heavy but they strode easily and confidently to the casino entrance. The casino was called Medusa and a huge neon sign of a stylised woman’s head with snakes spouting from it hung over the entrance.

The air conditioning hit them like an icy blast as they stepped inside the lobby which was spacious given the size of the place. There was a check-in counter, a concierge desk, and some nice leather furniture so sit on while you waited. Not that you ever had to wait to be checked into a Las Vegas casino hotel, you might have to wait in the lobby for a ride or to meet a friend, but never to check-in. They wanted you in their hotel casino and no one else’s.

Through a smoked glass wall Cassie could just make out the cashiers windows and walls of slot machines behind which were a few gambling tables. Cassie had read the file and knew that the KC Mafia had half a dozen blue-rinse, tracksuit-wearing grannies putting thousands of dollars a week through the poker machines for them. Money earned by the casino through the slots was almost impossible to trace but high rollers on the tables who repeatedly lost large sums attracted the attention of the Gaming Commission.

The grannies got to keep any winnings they made; no one ever asked someone how much they had put in a slot before they won.

A lithe, elegantly dressed woman who was stunningly attractive stepped forward and gave Cassie and Brent a welcoming smile. She was wearing a turquoise, floor-length sheath, split up one side to the waist and cut low at the front to show off her ample but firm decolletage. Her accessories were silver including her high-heeled sandals and the jewelled pin holding her blonde hair piled high on her head in an elaborate do. Her pantyhose shimmered in the casino lights; one leg thrust forward from the split sheath-dress. Her lips were bright red and shiny.

She offered a hand with long delicate fingers, her nails were manicured; polished red and shiny to match her lipstick. Her slim wrist was adorned with a silver and diamond bracelet. The woman smelled wonderful and Cassie was very much aware that she smelled of the road and had beer-breath.

“I’m Jill Saint John, the hotel and casino manager,” her smile was dazzling.

She shook their hands daintily.

Then she gripped Cassie’s hand in a vice-like grip and her eyes burrowed into Cassie’s.

“I’m also president of the Sisters of Satan Motorcycle Club and you two have disrespected my club by wearing those colours in here without first requesting a parley,” her smile returned but her grip remained tight.

“Woah! Steady sister! We meant no disrespect. We came to the casino with the understanding that it’s neutral ground and we could introduce ourselves and talk,” Brent tried his best smile.

Jill didn’t let go of Cassie’s hand.

“You’re Brent Peters and she’s Cassie Rivers; both of the Beasts or Burden, although she’s from the LA original chapter; and this casino is by definition an extension of my clubhouse. We own it and we run it.”

“But you know all that and you’re not here to play the slots are you?” she let go of Cassie’s hand.

“Well…” Jill put out a finger and pressed it to Brent's lips.

She turned her head towards the concierge who was a tight little number in a business suit; she reminded Cassie of Natalie and Cassie bet she was probably just as tough.

“Comp these two a couple of deluxe suites Jenny; and give them two hundred each in chips. Get their clothes cleaned while they freshen up and drop a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in Miz Rivers room and a bottle of Bundaberg Rum in Mister Peters. It’s an Australian rum but I’m sure it’s available somewhere on the strip,” Jill’s smile had returned and she removed her finger from Brent's lips.

“Is there anything you don’t you know about us?” Brent gave her his best smile.

“I’m pretty sure I know most things about you both but I want to know a lot more about you,” she pointed a finger at Cassie.

“You intrigue me,” Jill smiled.

“I’ll see you both for dinner. My table at the sky lounge,” Jill dropped her hand and sashayed away into the casino.

Cassie and Brent looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Follow me,” Jenny ordered.

A fresh-faced young female bellhop in a micro-mini and knee-high boots took their panniers and hung them from a baggage trolley.

Cassie suddenly realised that all the staff, every single one of them, were female.

Cassie relaxed in the huge spa bath in her deluxe suite. Jenny herself had returned with Cassie’s black cocktail dress, freshly dry-cleaned and pressed, she also dropped off the bottle of Jack which Cassie eyed off but decided not to touch. She’d had two glasses of champagne in the bath and had a nice buzz going but she didn’t what to be drunk before dinner.

She stepped into fifteen denier thigh-high stockings, tucked and gaffed herself and slipped on a pair of red satin bikini panties and a matching half-cup brassiere. Her dress was short hemmed and low cut, she wanted to show some flesh. She fixed her hair and makeup and pushed her feet into a pair of cherry-red Christian Louboutin heels. She wanted to stand out, when she flashed her undies her shoes would match, she smiled to herself.

Brent Peters came to her door in a black dinner suit which impressed Cassie.

“You’re the best dressed biker I’ve ever seen. Well let’s qualify that statement; best dressed male biker I’ve ever seen,” she hooked her arm through his and they walked to the elevator.

“My dad rode with the Hells Angels when they opened their Nevada chapter. Mom died when I was five so it was just him and me. I was riding cycles before I even went to high school,” Jill Saint John looked into her glass of burgundy.

They had finished dinner in the casino’s Sky Lounge, the desert stars twinkled through the glass ceiling.

“I used to ride with him all the time and then less so when I got older. He’d take me to the clubhouse and I knew all the members. Some of them tried it on when I came of age; dad was ready to bust heads but I took care of that myself and gained the respect of the crew.”

“But it didn’t matter. I was still just a chick. I could be fender fluff, a momma or a hook up or I could become some guy’s old lady but I couldn’t wear the colours. You know what that’s like,” Jill smiled knowingly at Cassie.

“You seem to know a hell of lot about the Beasts of Burden and me in particular,” Cassie lit a cigarette.

“Yeah I do. Our stories our similar but not the same. I had to form my own club. The Sisters of Satan take shit from the other clubs, they call us the pussy posse, slits on sleds, bimbos on bikes, all sorts of derogatory names but that’s ok. They leave us alone. They think we are some insignificant riding club whose members all work at the casino and ride for a hobby,” Jill took her own cigarette out of her purse and Brent reached over and lit it.

Jill looked him up and down.

“Such a waste,” she smiled.

Brent grinned back at her.

“I tried it when I was younger. Tried real hard but it just didn’t stick. I am who I am I guess,” he smiled at the two women.

“You on the other hand are a dichotomy dressed in leather. I find you intriguing. I’m mostly full-on hetero but I um; let’s say I like to dabble with the right lady when it suits me,” Jill gave Cassie her full attention.

“What about you?” Jill extended her foot.

She’d kicked off her silver heel and ran her foot along Cassie’s calf.

Brent saw this as an opportunity to leave Cassie and Jill alone and hopefully talk business as well as whatever else they were going to get up to. He pulled the four, fifty dollar chips from his pocket and made his excuses.

“I’m gonna see if I can get rich,” he grinned at the two delightful ladies.

“Good luck cowboy,” Jill replied but she never took her eyes off Cassie.

“You know about me; you’ve said so,” Cassie sipped her wine.

“I do but let’s see how much I have right. Born Cameron Rivers, son of the founding father of the original chapter of the Beasts of Burden. Highly ranked Prospect who unfortunately was smitten with gender dysphoria and banished from the club. It gets hazy for a while, rumoured you went to Mexico and had reassignment surgery; how am I going so far?” Jill smiled, Cassie noticed her eyes were green like hers.

Cassie smiled back.

“Go on…let’s hear the whole story.”

“Came back to California and amazingly proved herself worthy enough to join the club and got herself patch. Claims to be the only female full-patch member of an OMC. Has been known to associate with Diego Martinez which confirms the rumours of the Beasts’ links to the Medici Cartel.”

“And now she’s here, talking to the President of the Sisters of Satan; that can’t be good,” Jill’s smile faded.

“How did I do? How much reassignment did you get?” Jill’s foot slid into Cassie’s lap and then under her dress, her toes went exploring.

“Oh no… it looks like I’m going to be disappointed,” she mimicked a pout.

“You never heard of tucking and gaffing?” Cassie pouted back.

Jill frowned.

Cassie eased Jill’s foot from her lap and smoothed her skirt. She leaned into Jill and whispered in her ear.

“Best explained by show and tell,” Cassie stood and offered her hand to Jill.

Jill put her high-heeled sandal back on, collected her things and took Cassie’s hand.

“I live right here in the penthouse,” she whispered in Cassie’s ear and seductively nuzzled her neck.

Jill lay back on the huge elevated bed her turquoise, floor-length sheath contrasting with the red satin bed spread. The split in her dress was wide open revealing her long gossamer-clad legs. She guided Cassie’s head so that her tongue lapped at that special spot.

Cassie had removed Jill’s panties and lapped at her cunt through the gusset of Jill’s pantyhose until Jill couldn’t take the torment any longer and tore out the gusset so that Cassie’s tongue could lick her sweet pussy.

Cassie strayed her tongue over Jill’s clitoris whilst concentrating on licking her labia. She knew this would drive Jill wild and it had that effect. Jill gripped Cassie’s head and lifted her crotch off the bed and thrust her pussy against Cassie’s lips and tongue. Cassie grinned and gently suckled Jill’s clit, send flashes of ecstasy through her body. Her hands reached up and freed Jill’s large firm breasts from her bra; Jill’s nipples were large and firm like raspberries and Cassie thrummed them with her fingers while her mouth worked Jill’s cunt.

“Oh my god you fucking bitch! Oh yessss! Right there! Right there!” Jill orgasmed, writhing on the bed, her feet drumming on the bedspread as she came.

Cassie gave Jill no time to recover; she climbed on Jill’s body, tearing away her gaff and freeing her angry hard cock and shoved into Jill’s wet, buttery pussy as her lips crushed Jill’s. Jill lifted her legs and wrapped them around Cassie as Cassie fucked her hard and fast.

Cassie was close to coming too and she arched her back and drove herself deep inside Jill’s cunt, grinding her pubis in to Jill’s eliciting her second orgasm as Cassie filled Jill’s pussy with scalding semen.

Cassie fucked Jill hard, smashing her mouth into Jill’s. Jill drew blood as she bit Cassie’s lips, She clutched Cassie to her with her arms and legs and physically rose up off the bed to grind herself against Cassie and force Cassie’s cock deeper inside her.

The two women ravished each other, clawing, biting, scratching and fucking.

Jill used her considerable strength and flipped Cassie on her back and rode her, slamming her groin into Cassie’s crotch, sliding her cunt up and down on Cassie’s hard flesh. She bent down and licked a trickle of blood from Cassie’s lips and then kissed her.

Cassie’s dress was almost ripped from her body, her nylons tattered, her panties soaked with Jill’s vaginal secretions, she’s long ago kicked off her heels. Jill fared no better. Cassie had pulled the bodice of her dress around her waist, her dress was a mere turquoise sash, her pantyhose shredded and her bra pulled down to her belly. Jill squeezed her own nipples as she rose up and down and rode Cassie; her back arched and her head thrown back.

Cassie gripped her waist and guided Jill up and down, rising to meet her thrusts.

Amazingly they orgasmed again, this was twice for Cassie and thrice for Jill. Jill ground herself into Cassie who held her tight and pushed up with all her might as she ejaculated deep inside Jill. They froze like that in a paroxysm of pleasure and delight, they allowed their orgasms to course through their very beings, they shuddered and spasmed and screamed obscenities until they were both sated.

Jill fell forward, her slick body pressed against Cassie; her hair a dishevelled mess of sweaty ringlets.

Cassie kissed her and held her softly. Jill’s breathing slowed and she kissed Cassie back. They lay in each other’s arms, Jill on top of Cassie, stroking and caressing each other now that they were sated.

Jill shivered in the air conditioning.

“Shower?” she smiled down at Cassie.

Cassie smiled and nodded.

“Then we can come back to bed. If you’re up for it we could do this again,” Jill grinned down at Cassie and kissed her playfully on the nose.

“We can talk business over breakfast.”

Cassie nodded again and leaned up and kissed Jill tenderly.

To be continued.