Top Down

By Evecho

Synopsis:  Two butches meet for a long overdue hot encounter, but jealousy and pride hold them back from more.

Foreword:  Even though they will never know it, this story is dedicated to the butch women in my fantasies, especially C, who always inspires me.

Disclaimer:  Characters - figment of my imagination. Locations - figment of my imagination. Hot torrid sex - I'll leave that up to your imagination.

This here writing gig can be hard so please send accolades, chocolate or gift vouchers to   All other comments are welcome too *G*. 

My super appreciation goes to N for her constant support and encouragement. 


“Hey, Mitch! Can you go over to the café? They're waiting to confirm the week’s orders with you.” 

Mitch shoved the last tray of clean glasses under the bar and flicked the tea towel over the drying rod. “Yeah,” she shouted back. 

As she ran over her mental ‘To Do’ list for the day, Mitch absently eyed the bar counter and the dark interior of the club to pick out any outstanding tasks. Her broad hands rubbed over her jean-clad thighs and butt, patting the pockets for her keys and drying her hands at the same time. 

The faint sounds of the radio tuned to a Hip-Hop station crept into the bar area. It became louder as Mitch stepped into the kitchen. Weaving her way to her tiny office located near dry storage, she winced a little at the volume of the music. She wouldn’t say anything, though. She knew rock and roll was the best way for the kitchen crew to keep their energy high while they worked in hot surroundings. 

Grabbing a clipboard and a folder of invoices, Mitch told the first person she came across, “If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be at the café.” 

Outside, the road was wet from a short afternoon shower. The late spring weather humidity blanketed her as soon as she exited the club from the staff entrance at the side of the building. Mitch was glad she wore her sleeveless workshirt on days like these. 

Her destination was directly across the street. Slipping behind the counter of the café, she accepted a kiss from a couple of girls cleaning up after the lunch hour.  

“Hi, Stud. TC will be out in a sec,” one of them informed her. “But if you’re in a hurry, she’s in the office.” 

Mitch winked at them. “Thanks. I’ll come back and chat later.”  

“You do that, sugar,” the two girls laughed as they rubbed her bare biceps. 

Mitch noted that the café was quiet, with only a few patrons located in random spots. One or two sat in the middle, right under the fans. More were nearer the windows and the occasional one lurked in the corners. Some had papers and books around them - they looked like students and business people taking advantage of the quieter hours to get some work done, much like herself. 

Just before she ducked into the back area, Mitch caught a glimpse of long, pant legs flowing from beneath a light grey business suit. The owner of the legs had her face turned towards her companion, but her blonde hair winked sexily under the lights. Mitch felt an appreciative tug on her senses. Damn, she had a weakness for blondes and this one looked yummy. 

Greeting the staff who were in various stages of prep work and those taking a break in the back alley, Mitch headed for the office space – it was little more than an alcove – to find TC. They met as TC was coming out. 

“Mitch! I was about to come over.” 

“How are you, darlin’?” Mitch kissed TC’s powder soft cheek and got one in return. “You know I always prefer to do work on each business’s premises.” 

“Uh huh. And I bet it’s not because of my cute staff that brings you over,” TC laughed.

“It’s not my fault you seem to hire half the city’s best looking girls to work here,” Mitch teased.  

“And the other half come to the club,” they both said simultaneously and burst out laughing. 

“Alright, let’s do this outside. I’ll bet the girls are dying to make you a glass of iced tea… or coffee … or anything you like with cream.” TC hooked her wrist around Mitch’s muscular forearm and sashayed out to the front. 

True enough, as soon as they were seated, both girls rushed over and giggled over what Mitch would drink. In the end, Mitch and TC decided to have lunch while they worked. 

“Let’s do Venus in the Kitchen first,” Mitch decided after they ate.  

The café was named after a book by Norman Douglas. Mitch had been taken by the aphrodisiacal references and now, the café was a very popular, and cheerful, gay centric location.

When Mitch needed someone to manage the café, she turned to TC, who had just sold off her share of a strip club downtown and was looking to come out of retirement.  Sceptical at first, Mitch quickly found out how enterprising TC could be. Venus’s success was attributed to the skills TC brought to their partnership.  

TC was an ex-drag queen who had transitioned fully. Few people knew of her past but she was known affectionately as TC or Top Cat – “someone has to keep you pussies in line” – but her official name was Theodora Cunterbury. There was a little showmanship left in the old gal yet. 

A little later, when the building across the street came up for auction, Mitch overheard a conversation between the brokers and owners. Acting on a hunch, she introduced herself and made an offer for the building, with some conditions. Four months later, Scarlett was open for business.  

Mitch was more at home at the club - Goddess knows, she had spent more time in bars in her younger days than she could count. There were three stories circling a huge dance floor in Scarlett. Each level had a different decor and impression. The lower ground courtyard hosted a restaurant that was very popular for its discreteness. 

Nowadays, TC and Mitch would meet on early in the week to work out the schedule for the rest of the week. 

After their second cup of coffee, the admin work was wrapped up and TC went home to freshen up for the evening. Mitch would finish at Scarlett and lock up. The club was only open from Wednesday to Saturday. The restaurant inside was closed on Monday anyway, but prep work and deliveries were done then. 

A couple of days later, Mitch dropped by the café in the afternoon. To her delight, she saw a familiar pair of legs by the window. Checking out the owner of the legs, she saw a blonde head slightly bent over some papers and an open laptop. Mitch’s eyes traced the pert profile, which didn’t suffer from the rimless glasses perched on the nose. So intent was she on paying attention to the stunning blonde that she didn’t notice when the subject of her perusal did the same to her. 

There she is. And she’s looking this way. Look at her, after all these years she’s still as hot as I remembered. Gret had come looking for her first love. 


Greta Berner was caught in the middle. She was going to be the cause of an explosive meeting between two rival groups in the school when she hit on a girl who had a not so understanding boyfriend. 

With quaking knees but an unrepentant bravado, Greta bravely stood up to the meatheads who were intent on teaching her a lesson. Luckily, the only pain she felt was from embarrassment because once word went out about the showdown, Mitch and her girls descended on the scene and brawled it out with her captors.  

Greta was cringing on the ground amidst the dust storm after the scuffle. She remembered a warm hand pulling her up and the feel of a hard body supporting her as they walked away from the yard.  The smell of dusty sweat combined with the hardness of muscles held her safely. Mitch had stayed behind to carry her home. It was the only time Greta almost swooned in relief and exhilaration. 

After that event, a grudging respect developed for Mitch and her gang. Mitch was their de facto leader, a dark-haired muscular butch who seemed to have groupies around her all the time. Standing a respectable 5’ 10” in her boots, Mitch was an only child living with her father.  He ran a small cleaning company and gave her a lot of independence.  

Mitch was the quintessential soft butch - quiet, courtly and built like a truck. She had a warm smile for everyone and her eyes seemed to twinkle with secret amusement at the world. Mitch developed an affinity with the idea of strengthening her whole body and by her late teens, she was more buff than the average schoolboy. Girls lusted after her, and rumour had it that she could show them a few extra muscles in private.

Greta had a huge crush on Mitch. She wanted, more than anything, to be the centre of attention in Mitch’s chocolate, brown eyes. But looking at her own baggy clothes and short cropped blond hair, Greta knew she didn’t stand a chance against the femmes. In clever despair, Gret started cultivating similar butch mannerisms. She asked Mitch, "Teach me everything. I want to be just like you." 

Bemused, Mitch took her under her wing, thus inflaming the worship in the younger teen. Other girls were drawn to the pair but they always made time to be alone – whether to go to the gym or hang out. Those were secretly cherished times for both of them. Gret fantasised that, one day, Mitch would realise her lean musculature and intelligence would hold the person she was looking for to complete her life. 

Mitch graduated a year ahead of Gret and almost missed seeing her grow into her looks. In their time together, Mitch would only recall a skinny, blonde kid with a short haircut who eventually picked up on body sculpting at the gym.  

Once, Gret delicately prodded a potential minefield. 

“Mitch, why are we butch?” 

“What do you mean? ‘Coz we like girls!” Mitch stated the obvious. 

“But we don’t have to be bois to like girls, do we? What if two alike people liked each other?” 

Mitch frowned and said, “You mean like two midgets?” 

Blushing in frustration, Gret forged ahead, “Um … more like two femmes or two butches.” 

“Is this one of your crazy ideas?” 

Gret shrugged. 

“I’ll tell ya this, I’m not telling ya what to think but don’t you think seeing two femmes get it on is like watching fluff? It doesn’t feel real. And as for the other, not unless you wanna be a faggot on top of being a dyke.” 

Sweating a little under her arms, Gret pressed the issue. “So, why do butches spend so much time together comparing their looks?”

Mitch growled, “Why, you tired of spending time with me? Want to get a boifriend, do ya?” 

“Heh, no. NO! That would be like… um… weird…, right?” Not waiting for an answer, Gret jumped off the bench they were sitting on. “Come on, the shopper chicks should be swarming the mall by now.” 

Throughout the following weeks, Gret made it a point to be seen with as many girls as possible and talked about them non-stop until Mitch told her to keep it in her pants.  

“If there’s one thing I hope you learn from me, kid, is that you should always treat women with respect. Chivalry is not out moded behaviour but more importantly, it teaches you to think of the other person before yourself. Good manners and good grooming will take you places in life. And chicks love it when you treat them like a queen. Keep yourself real, don’t try to be a super stud and you’ll be fine.” 

Gret positively melted at the special attention from her mentor. She smartened up and worked to make herself into the ultimate, gentlemanly butch persona that Mitch obviously approved of. 

At Gret's graduation, when Mitch hugged her after the ceremony, Gret let herself melt into the stronger body. The familiar cologne wafted from the crisp, freshly laundered suit Mitch wore. As she slid her hands around Mitch’s back in what she hoped seemed like platonic affection, she almost missed the close feel of warm breath near her ear. In later years, she would conjure up the moment and imagined Mitch nuzzling her neck. 

For the graduation party later that week, Gret wore her new black slacks and a tight, dark blue shirt. It highlighted her eyes and showed the results of hard work at the gym. Mitch would be coming to the same party and Gret wished in her heart that she would notice the extra effort.  

Not only did Mitch notice the flattering build, “Nice,” but so did many others that evening. Gret was swept away to be circled around the party with a woman on either arm. She barely noticed that Mitch spent most of the night in the garden, smoking, alone. 

By the time the party started to wind down, Gret was almost falling on her face. Too many drinks and a lot of attention had gone to her head. Woozy, she distantly recalled that Mitch was still somewhere around and that she had to find her. Stumbling around the venue and silently thanking the architects for putting walls in convenient reach, Gret searched for her ride home. 

“There you are,” she slurred when she saw Mitch, who had her back to her. 

As she made her way over to the trees where the silent figure stood, she saw a pair of pale hands reach round and grasped Mitch’s ass. Confused and enraged, Gret fairly charged into the pair and shook off the person who had latched onto Mitch. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” squealed the girl she had grabbed. 

“Yeah, man. Are you crazy?” said the guy whom she had mistaken for Mitch. 

Kicking herself internally, Gret stammered, “Oh, sorry … sorry. I thought you were …”

“Looking for me?” came a deeply amused voice nearby. 

Before anyone could say more, Mitch took over the situation by leading Gret away. “No worries, folks. I’ll just get this little one home. She’s had enough for tonight.” 

The couple did not recognise Mitch in the dark. “Keep a leash on your girlfriend next time, dude.” 

“She’s not my grrllmmphh…” Mitch clamped a hand over Gret’s mouth.

 “G’night, folks. We’re sorry to have bothered you,” Mitch said as she dragged the blonde away. 

Gret struggled against the binding force of strong arms that held her loosely so she could walk. “I can walk, you know.” 

“Sure you can,” said Mitch of little words. 

“Let go of me.” Gret’s order was ignored. “It was a mistake. It was dark, y’know.” Giggling, Gret recalled the look on the couple’s faces. 

Stopping abruptly, Mitch pulled her upright. Holding Gret by her upper arms, she said harshly, “You’re going to get into trouble if anyone finds out.” 

“Why should they care?” Gret yanked herself away from the close proximity of Mitch’s alluring presence. Her emotions were only thinly veiled by her inebriated state. “Who’s going to fucking care if I thought some girl was … she had no right to touch you.” 

Frowning, Mitch shook her head, “You’re getting yourself mixed up. Come on, it’s time to go home.” 

“No, I don’t want to go home. I want to … to spend the night with you.” 

“OK. We’ll go to my place.” 

Flabbergasted, Gret could only gape. Mitch took the opportunity to bundle her into the car and drove them back to her apartment. When they reached it, Gret had fallen asleep but Mitch managed to drag them both inside. 

Placing her friend gently on the bed, she started to undress her. There wasn’t much to take off but as Mitch reached to untuck her shirt, Gret’s arms came up and around her neck. 

Caught within a closing circle, Mitch breathed in the smell of the woman in her arms. Mixed with the alcohol, there was a faint scent of CK1 and the heat of her warm body. Unconsciously, her large hands slid the tight shirt off and palmed the hard torso. She closed her eyes and let her hands map on and around Gret’s upper half as it curved into the embrace. 

Mitch sighed when her fingertips gently bumped Gret’s breasts. The blonde was small breasted and didn’t feel the need for a bra on occasion. Her nipples were slightly puckered from exposure and they hardened into tight peaks when Mitch brushed them. 

Gret turned her face into Mitch’s neck at that moment. In her haziness, she dreamt that Mitch was admiring her body and touching her with desire. She kissed the sweaty neck and moved up to tongue an ear lobe. The vibrations of what sounded like a groan sent a rush of heat to her groin. Enjoying the sensations sweeping her body, Gret tightened her arms to pull her lover closer. 

Mitch felt herself falling forward and had to stick out an arm to keep them from crashing onto the bed. As quietly as she could, she murmured soothing words to calm Gret to sleep while she disentangled herself. She kissed her way across her cheek and brow as she laid her charge comfortably on the bed. When she brushed her lips on the ones below, she lingered long enough to feel their shape and breathe in Gret’s sweet exhalations. 

Mitch’s hands were slightly trembling as she unbuckled the belt and slowly slid off Gret’s pants. Her fingers followed her eyes as she lightly traced the definition of Gret’s legs. Up and down they went. The fine blonde hairs barely stirred under Mitch's gentle touch. Gret’s lanky frame was held up by beautiful legs.  

Unaware of the thudding of her heart, Mitch’s breathing was shaky and laboured as she reached for the waistband of Gret’s Jockey shorts. Swallowing hard, she pulled downward. Mitch could just see the wide vee of Gret's pelvis narrowing to the start of blonde tufts when Gret turned over in her sleep. Now, she was presented with the perfect globes of Gret’s buttocks clearly outlined underneath the fitted shorts. 

Wiping her sweating forehead, Mitch muttered to herself, “She doesn’t need to sleep in the nude.” Disgusted with herself for almost acting on a long withheld impulse, Mitch drew the blankets over Gret and left the room. 

She changed into cotton boxers and a singlet, and got herself a drink before turning down the sofa. As she lay in the dark, she put the television on mute. Surfing the channels, she flicked onto the adult stream and slipped her hand inside her shorts as she followed the movement of hard bodies thrusting smoothly on the gay channel. 

The next morning, a suffering Gret shuffled into the kitchen drawn by the sounds of movement. Mitch was buttering toast. Next to her, a glass of cranberry juice on the counter stood like a proud penis in the morning light. 

“Morning.” Mitch picked up her breakfast and moved to sit at the dining table.

“Ugh!” Gret grunted. She had put on her shirt but not her pants. Opening a cabinet door, she searched for some Alka Seltzer. Finding it, she struggled with the rubber lid on the tube before successfully dropping a tablet into the juice. 

“Let the fizzing clear before you drink it. Otherwise, you’ll be burping all day,” Mitch said without looking up from the newspaper. 

Gret dropped into a chair opposite her host. Still dazed, she tranced while looking at the bubbles in the juice dissipate. Mitch pushed over the plate of toast which also had bacon on the side. “Eat.” And Gret dutifully did. 

On her second cup of coffee, Gret asked, “Did I do anything uh … embarrassing last night?” 

Hiding behind the paper, Mitch blithely said, “You got a little drunk.” 

“Well, yeah. That’s pretty obvious.” 

“Nothing happened.” 

“Really? I have a memory of someone kissing me.” 

Mitch froze. 

Gret continued, “Boy, there sure were a lot of cute girls at the party.” 

With a quiet sigh of relief, Mitch agreed. 

Over the next weeks, Gret prepared to leave for college. She would be taking up Urban Studies at Portland State University. When Mitch started work at Town Hall, it had inspired Gret to chart the long term programme offered by PSU. 

Before she left, Gret and Mitch spent a lot of time together. If it wasn’t for gathering her stuff, it was to harbour memories of a time in their lives that was ending. It was an unspoken understanding that their paths would diverge.  

Gret was packing the last of her bags on the final day when a knock on her door announced Mitch, who came in with a garment bag slung over her arm. She was dressed in dark jeans and polo top that stretched over her muscular shoulders. It was a familiar sexy style Gret would remember fondly. 

“You almost ready?” 

“Yeah. What’s that you got?” 

Holding out the bundle, Mitch said, “This is for you. A little going-away-and-starting-college present.” She couldn’t meet Gret’s eyes. 

“Mitch, you shouldn’t have.” 

“You’ll be glad for it when you want to impress a date.” 

Inside the cover was a soft, butter coloured leather jacket that deepened Gret’s natural complexion and set off her blue eyes brilliantly. Her streaked blonde hair stood out even more when she donned the coat. 

“Oh, Mitch. It’s beautiful,” Gret was awed by the gift. 

“You look good,” Mitch said sadly. 

Looking over at her friend, Gret noticed how she stood with her head slightly bowed, hands in pockets as she rocked on her heels. Her expression was forlorn and Gret felt a surge of her own heart ache for leaving. Walking over to Mitch, she hugged her tightly. 

“I’m gonna miss you, so much,” Gret laid her chin on Mitch’s shoulder. She absorbed the strength and warmth of a body she had wanted for so long. 

“Me too. More than you know,” Mitch answered gruffly. 


Thursday night at Scarlett was quiet this week. After happy hour, Mitch went over to assist the café as they were short staffed during the university semester. When she returned, she spied Alistair sitting in his usual corner. 

Striding over, she saw that he was absorbed in his notebook. Pulling up a padded stool to sit on, she faked a grab for his writing pad. 

“Hey!” Alistair squawked. 

“What are you reading this time?” Mitch smirked. 

“If you must know, I am drawing,” the floppy-haired Alistair huffed indignantly. 

“Ok, what are you drawing?” 

“The usual, sorta.” He glared at her. Mitch took the notebook. 

“Alistair, you’re the only straight man I know who loves male bodies and who writes gay porn on the net. Are you sure you don’t have homosexual tendencies?” Mitch enjoyed irking her friend. 

“Piss off, Michelle,” he pushed back. “I don’t see you taking any offers from the women who throw themselves at you every week. Are you sure you’re a lesbian?” 

Mitch chuckled, “Oh my, the biatch is back. Or did you forget your meds? Don’t let dear Mommy hear you talk like that.” 

“I won’t, if you’ll be my Daddy.” Alistair batted his eyelashes coquettishly. 

“You’re sick.” 

“That’s why I take drugs, dearest. Happy happy drugs, hmm hmm.” 

“Are you done? It’s not good for business if you sit here reading all the time. I’m going to have to toss you out if you don’t buy a drink.” Pointing at the glass on the table, Mitch said, “Soda water is not a real drink.” 

“And one night stands are not real healthy. But do I tell you what to do? Nooooooo. Besides, it’s not like the place is jam packed with customers tonight. Why don’t you go bother somebody else for a change?" Alistair nodded to his left, "Like her.” 

Ignoring the suggestion, Mitch stood up. “I’ll see you later.” 

After a quick tour of the three levels of the club to check on the staff and clients, Mitch went back to the main floor. She relieved one of the bartenders since it wasn’t a busy night. Glancing round, she saw Alistair concentrating on his drawing. To his left, a blonde head could be seen in a dark corner. The person’s features were obscured but they had a long leg up on a table. Mitch sensed there was something familiar about the person but dismissed them as a non-regular customer. 

Gret slouched in her seat with her hands locked on her steepled arms. She had been watching Mitch ever since she came in. She saw her speak with a guy sitting nearby then disappear, only to return to work the bar. 

She was grateful for the dark corner where she sat. Her eyes were glued to Mitch’s figure – the dark jeans she wore encased stout, muscular legs and a prominently tight ass. Her back swooped up in a curve from a narrow waist to broad shoulders which her black shirt could not hide. An upper body developed from years of labour could be seen, even under cover.  Her shirt was tucked into black jeans, and Gret had a hard time tearing her eyes away from the sight of the crinkling material which betrayed a flat stomach and hips. Mitch had folded the sleeves of her shirt, and her forearms corded and bulged as she worked. 

But above all that was the slightly curly cut of Mitch’s brown hair and the easy smile she had for everyone around her. Gret felt a sense of déjà vu as her emotional past caught up with the present. 

It was getting late, time to make a move. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the bar. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Mitch saw her approach.

“Hi, what can I get you?” she opened with the standard. 

“Hello, Mitch,” Gret was amazed she that could speak evenly. Her head was a little dizzy from anxiety and her palms were sweating. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing well. How about yourself?” Mitch wracked her brains to place this familiar person. 

The blonde had expertly styled short hair, finely arched eyebrows and deep blue eyes. She wore a light, tan shirt that fell just over the waist of her leather pants. Her overall look was taut, lean and very toned. Leather pants lovingly flowed over her thighs and the blonde stood in a way that exaggerated the posture of a male model in the frame of her torso and arms. 

“Not too bad.” Gret was looking intently at Mitch, noting the fine lines around her eyes and her fuller jaw. Her smile made her look wickedly charming, and a persistent forelock just added to her appeal. Gret could see the puzzlement in her eyes as she tried to remember.  

Gret herself had changed a lot in the last twelve years. An active sporting curriculum at college had stretched her body into a lithe and lean figure which she kept. What was once a gangly teen now stood confidently well attired and composed before the world. 

The hungry look in her eyes was disconcerting Mitch, even as her body warmed under the perusal. This was definitely not one of the regulars. 

“It’s been a long time. But it’s just me, Gret.” She flashed a grin at the surprised look on Mitch’s face. 

“No! Really? Gret! Wow, look at you ….” Mitch was shocked. Her mind warred with her body on the appropriate response. In front of her stood an ex-flame, albeit secretly, who looked liked she had just stepped out of a dyke fashion catalogue. Long practice smoothed over her awkwardness. 

“You look fantastic! Little Gret, after all these years … how’ve you been? Here, let me buy you a drink.” 

“Actually, I have to run. Long day tomorrow and all. But I would love to buy you a drink … or dinner while I’m in town,” Gret proposed. 

“Is this a business trip?” Mitch was still reeling at the appearance of her friend. 

“Yes, this time. Have dinner with me and we’ll catch up.” 

“Alright. Uh … when?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Gret was ready to bolt as soon as Mitch agreed. 

“Friday’s are quite busy here… could we make it early?” Mitch was not about to pass up the opportunity. 

“I’ll probably be working. How bout, I’ll pick you up after the club closes and we’ll have a late supper?” 

“That’s going to be pretty late …” Mitch protested. 

“That’s alright. I can use the time to finish off some work I had planned for the weekend.” Before Mitch could defer, Gret placed a card on the counter, “My phone number’s on the card. Call me or I’ll see you here late tomorrow night at … say, 2am?” 

Mitch nodded mechanically, “That’s a good time.” 

“It was nice to see you, Mitch.” Gret tapped Mitch’s hand as she turned and left, leaving a dazed bar owner staring after her. 


A very busy Friday schedule occupied Gret's time but her mind was tumbling over Mitch.  

It had been a momentous day when she was offered the job in Hurstville. As a consultant, Gret’s work took her to many places and this project was just the latest in a long line. When she was scouting around Hurstville for a client’s project, she came across a ghost – or whom she thought was a ghost. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the handsome butch striding into the café. 

It was good fortune when Gret chose to use Venus in the Kitchen as her part-time office. Seeing Mitch there had clicked a few ideas in her head and, for the first time, Gret seriously considered relocating. 

She squeezed as much as she could to finish work on Friday. Very late that evening, she went back to her suite and got ready for her rendezvous. Gret chuckled to herself, “A post-midnight meeting, how clandestine.” 

After catching up with the news, she threw on her jacket and decided to walk to the club. The buzz of nightlife grew the nearer she got to the area. She was happy to be out of the dead business district and into the gay quarter. Venus in the Kitchen was lit and crowded with slow diners and the coffee crowd, who were killing time until it was seemly to enter the nightclubs. 

Gret swept her eyes over the crowd in the dark and noisy Scarlett; gay men in undersized t-shirts and tight fitting shorts, a few drunken well-dressed women on a crazy night out, small but loud groups of fag-hags and their queeny men all vied for attention. Lesbians ranged from the straight looking, students, chicken hawks, and the scowling, scoping, androgynous baby dykes smoking and playing with their cell phones.  

Sidling along the perimeter of the main floor, Gret fluidly moved between lines of patient patrons at the bar, through pockets of people, and skirted the jumping bodies at the edge of the dance floor, all the while looking at the two bars for Mitch. She was early but it didn’t look like the place would be calming down soon. If anything, it seemed to be getting more crowded. 

Then, suddenly, the music changed and the lights dimmed even further. People shuffled and craned their necks to look at the stage which was lit in a red and orange glow. A drag king show came on with lots of rude gyrations which the crowd lapped up. Gret smiled at the sudden animation of the younger butch crowd that had appeared bored till then. 

With the crowd’s attention on the show, she found it easier to move around. She decided to head upstairs where it was roomier and quieter. Gret hooked a spot near the banister and watched the crowd from above. There was also a good view of the bars. 

A shorter body parked next to her.  

“Got a light?” 

Turning to look at the requestor, Gret noted the petite frame in a short black dress, almond shaped eyes and shiny black hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t smoke.” 

The femme slowly looked her up. Licking her lips, she said, “Too bad. You’re a really hot butch thang.” 

Gret flashed a lop-sided grin, “You’re not bad yourself.” 

Moving closer, the woman stood two inches from Gret. They were so close Gret only had to drop her head and their lips would have met.  

“Oh, trust me, I’m veerrry bad,” she purred. 

In spite of herself, Gret almost laughed. The situation was ripe for the plucking, yet all she felt was glee at being in such open company. This town could be fun after all. 

Sticking her hand out, she introduced herself, “I’m Gret. I’m here on business. And you are?” 

Pouting with a mischievous look, her companion replied, “I’m Moira, and I’m here for pleasure. All night and all weekend.” She scratched her nail lightly on the inside of Gret’s palm. 

“Well, Moira, could I buy you a drink?” 

“That would be nice.” She laid her hand on Gret’s arm as she made to leave, “But a lady shouldn’t drink alone. Join me, won’t you?” Gret nodded her assent.  

When she brought their drinks back, she noticed the man Mitch had spoken to yesterday sitting in a corner. Making a decision, she offered Moira her drink and invited her to sit, choosing a space next to the man. 

“So, tell me, Moira, are you local?” 

“Pretty much, I’ve been to places but this is home for now.” She held her drink delicately as she sipped, her pinky finger straight.  

“Do you like it?” 

“It’s alright. But enough about me. Tell us about yourself. You’re new, aren’t you? I would have spotted you earlier if you weren’t,” Moira was still leering at her slightly. 

Gret laughed, “That’s right. Like yourself, I’ve been around and this is my current pit stop.” 

“So, you’ll be looking for an oil change and someone to rotate your tyres?” Moira quipped. They both giggled at the awful line. 

“Forgive me,” she said as she laid her small hand on Gret’s thigh, “I have a feeling I’m barking up the wrong tree but you can’t blame a girl for trying, especially with someone like you.” The ice breaker had relaxed them. 

“I’m flattered you think so,” Gret acknowledged the compliment. 

“Don’t be, darling. It’s the truth. But I don’t know how many takers you’ll get here.” 

“I’m not looking …” Gret started to protest. 

“Oh, we’re all looking. We might not be fishing but if a trout landed in my lap …. who do you have your eye on?” 

“What makes you think I do?” 

“You were searching the bar pretty intensely.”

Gret was glad for the dark. “An old friend,” she dismissed. 

“Must be a special old friend. Does she know you want her that badly?” 

Before Gret could answer, she heard a familiar voice, “How’s it going, Alistair? Are you blind yet from reading in the dark?” 

Whipping her head round, Gret saw Mitch standing near their table. She stood up.  


The club owner turned round, “Gret, hi! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”  

Mitch moved closer for a hug. Her eyes flicked between Gret and her companion, an imperceptible frown lining her forehead at their proximity. 

“Mitch, this is Moira. Moira, Mitch. We were just having a drink.” They all shook hands.  

Moira’s gaze flew to the two women. They were standing closer than friends. Gret had a slight lean towards Mitch and the latter stood with her legs apart with a tilt of her hips towards the other.  

Alistair was watching the pair, and Moira, when she caught his eye and winked. Picking up her drink, she deliberately stepped over Alistair’s legs. She saw his eyes widen when her tight skirt rode up as she straddled across his knees before sitting down next to him. She placed her hand on his thigh and whispered something in his ear. 

Gret and Mitch both raised an eyebrow. 

Alistair blushed so brightly it could be seen even in the dim light. Moira drained her drink and stood up, holding his hand. 

“Well, gentle … dykes,” she cocked an eyebrow at them, “We’re going to call it a night. I hope you get what you’re wanting, Gret. If not, call me.” Moira handed her a slip of paper, then barked, “Come, Alistair.”  

Alistair mumbled something and meekly followed Moira out. Mitch and Gret looked at each other and burst out laughing. After the laughter died down, Mitch invited Gret to wait while she had a word with her managers. 

A long break and a couple of women had to be declined before Mitch showed up again. She apologised for the delay but it also meant she wouldn’t have to close up later. Then, she led them outside. 

As they walked away from the bright lights, they saw people still being attracted to the area. Traffic was busy for another block but Mitch ducked into a laneway that opened into a badly maintained car park. It was next to corner shop with tables outside for smokers. Mitch walked right in, waved to the proprietor and picked a cleared table.  

“What’s good here?” Gret looked at the menu printed under the clear tabletop and the blackboard. 

“Almost everything, but since there’s not much it depends what you’re in the mood for. If you’re hungry, I’d recommend the pastas or big breakfast, or whatever is on the grill.” 

“I had a quick bite for dinner so, I’ll have the matriciana with spaghetti, please.” 

Mitch gave their orders, opting for a big breakfast herself. The food and coffee arrived quickly and, in contrast to the venue, they were heavenly. Mitch and Gret had fallen into an easy silence as they ate and soaked up the atmosphere. It was like the years had never passed. 

“So, Moira, eh?” Mitch asked with a barely suppressed smirk. 

“Hey, she approached me.” 

“Wonder how Alistair’s doing.” Gret almost choked on her drink at the comment. 

Mitch smiled. She was having a hard time keeping her attraction in check as she felt the soothing yet exciting presence Gret brought. All day, she had been distracted by the upcoming date. She kept bringing out Gret’s card and playing with it. It was now wrinkled and fraying at the edges and burning a hole in her wallet.  

She couldn’t forget how good Gret had looked standing under the lights by the bar. She seemed a little nervous but her demeanour was confidently laid-back. Tonight, she was dressed simply in a khaki T, brown jacket and dark olive pants, so different from the days when she was a scruffy tomboy. Gret had grown into a beautiful, androgynous woman carrying subtle masculinity. Mitch had to forcibly tamp her surging libido when she caught sight of her friend, which was practically all the time, as her eyes roamed over Gret at every opportunity. Mitch felt like a sleaze, achingly desiring what she couldn’t have. 

Gret was sitting comfortably in the dingy café with her legs crossed as she looked over the place and at Mitch. In profile, Mitch suddenly realised where she had seen her. 

“You were at Venus in the Kitchen the other day!” 

“Uh hm,” Gret nodded, “I really like that place. I hope the owners don’t mind that I work from there.” 

Spreading her hands, Mitch announced proudly, “Rest assured, they don’t mind. In fact, coffee for you is on the house for as long you’re there.” 

“Yours?” Gret was happily surprised. She now had an even better excuse to patronise the cafe. 


“And the club too. Wherever do you find the time?” Gret shook her head in appreciation. “So, how did you get into the business? When I left, you were working for the Council.” 

Mitch explained her career path, making Gret laugh at stories about Theodora’s past. Gret could hear the quiet satisfaction in Mitch’s voice and she felt a sense of familiar awe for the quiet strength and humble resolution Mitch projected. It was easy to see why she was successful. 

As Mitch talked, Gret took the opportunity to openly study her appearance. She was dressed in the uniform of the club – black shirt and black jeans. The sleeves were once more rolled up to the elbows and Gret tried not to stare at Mitch’s hand and forearms while she ate. The muscles jumped under the skin and her hands were solid and sure. Everything about Mitch was sure; from the steady clomp of her bootsteps to the calmness of her presence. Gret knew she was hopelessly attracted to the ingrained butchness of Mitch’s personality, and to Mitch herself. 

The years had been kind to her friend. Small lines were forming here and there on her face but overall, she glowed with vitality. Her hair was a little different but she had grown into her features. Mitch’s body was nicely rounded with muscle, she moved with the ease of bulk settled in her bones. One could tell she could as easily have swung a keg of beer as much as handle fine china. Her brown eyes looked at everyone warmly, her manner hospitable, yet, there was a hint of privacy and loneliness in the quick smile and shift of her eyes. 

“How long will you be in town?”  

Gret almost missed the question. She had been intently admiring the changes in her friend's appearance. 

“Another week. Actually, I’ve finished most of my report which gives me a few days to relax, and I’m thinking of doing that here.” Gret didn’t reveal that her plans had changed on account of meeting Mitch. 

“You still live in Portland?” Mitch asked. 

“I’ve lived in many places, depending on where the work takes me. Sometimes they run for months and years. Currently, I’m in Arizona but I might be moving soon.” 

They were interrupted by the waitress. Gret paid the bill and they walked back to the main drag. “My suite isn’t far from here, Mitch. Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” 

“Sure, if it’s not too late for you.” 

They changed direction and strolled to the suite apartments. Mitch alternately kept an eye on the dark shadows and spied on Gret as they walked. Gret’s smooth gait would have made a dancer envious. 

They walked closely together with Mitch pointing out parts of interest. Gret felt reassured by her presence in this unfamiliar city. She was so proud of her friend that she hung on to every word. Gret could feel the surge of unrequited pangs for more of Mitch’s attention, something she had never stopped craving. 

At the suite apartments, they sat in the bar and caught up on their lives and reminisced about their schooldays. Gret was close to blurting out her feelings still raging after all these years and which had been further stoked by watching Mitch throughout the evening. 

As dawn grew closer, Mitch regretfully excused herself, explaining that Saturdays were busy days. Reluctantly, she stood to leave.  

“Can I help? I’m pretty free for the next few days,” Gret offered. 

“Nah, you should be enjoying your holiday.” 

“I’d really like to. This will give me a good idea of life in Hurstville,” Gret pressed. If she could spend more time with Mitch … 

“Tell you what,” Mitch countered, “If you’re gonna help me out, then I insist you stay with me, as my guest, and let me show you around Hurstville.” 

“Deal.” Gret didn’t hesitate. 

“Come by the café anytime tomo… today, later.” Mitch grinned at her, “I warn you, you might regret the offer.” 

Gret shook her head. It had already paid for itself.  

“I’m glad you could come out with me tonight. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” Gret said as she hugged Mitch tight. 

The full body contact was warm and firm. Mitch unconsciously led her hips into the hug, her right thigh nestling snugly between Gret’s. Moving in and out of the hug, Gret could feel the muscles of the thigh tense and lightly swiped her hand over Mitch’s butt. 

The slight graze electrified Mitch. She drew back and searched Gret’s eyes for a reaction. A veiled but smouldering look was returned. 

“I …ah … I’ll see you later.” Mitch slowly released from the embrace and left the bar, turning to look back once from the doorway. 

On the way home, Mitch admitted that the evening had unearthed and confirmed that her feelings for Gret had not abated despite the years. She had been drawn to Gret then, and the attraction was still alive now. She wondered if the look in her eyes meant the same. 


Saturday was a furious rush. Mitch had not been joking when she said it was their busiest day of the week, from the breakfast regulars through to lunch, then dinner and a rush across the road for the biggest weekly night for the club. Mitch had apologised when Gret arrived but Gret insisted on helping out, which is how she found herself, for the first time since college, bussing tables. 

Mitch had given her one of her workshirts from the office. Gret thanked her own good sense for wearing Rossi boots that morning. She started to change her shirt when she caught Mitch staring at her bare chest. Just before she opened the shirt lapels, Mitch shoved her an apron and ran out, muttering about busy naked ladies. Gret laughed, she was looking forward to today. 

Despite the hard work, Gret enjoyed the camaraderie among the staff. She discovered that they were as excitable as some of the customers. Within the first hour, she had worked up a sweat. She was glad for Mitch's sleeveless workshirts, and the other girls were glad for them too.  

Her blonde hair was artfully styled, working arms warmed to show a light sheen of perspiration and she moved comfortably around the café. Her leaner body type contrasted against Mitch's bulkier build but they both moved with quiet efficiency. Mitch's eyes strayed to her as often as Gret would constantly peek at the brunette. 

After they parted earlier, Mitch had contemplated the change in Gret. Not just the physical changes but the openness and confidence she possessed. Mitch was responding to her laid back sensuality. She was uncomfortably aware that Gret was perhaps looking to finish or start something and Mitch wasn’t used to being on the back foot when it came to playing the game. But she found herself helpless to resist being close to the blonde.  

Gret had fun fending off teasing offers from the customers - the other workers would send her to wait on tables with single women. Mitch smiled cheerlessly at the game but soon developed a headache from gritting her teeth. She decided to bring Gret back to work with her behind the counter. The two of them danced smoothly around each other, working in harmony in the limited space.  

Theodora pursed her lips and eyed the couple knowingly. 

At first, Gret was happy to keep busy, she could see that the café was slammed and everyone needed a hand. But after a couple of hours on her feet, she was tired and started to lose focus. When Mitch asked her to work behind the counter, she was grateful. But the smaller space and quicker pace kept them brisk. On top of that, Gret was very aware of Mitch's nearness. The feints and ducking in and out of each other's personal space was heightening Gret's sensitivity to a pitch. Mitch's cologne was mixed with the aroma of coffee beans and they were bumping against each other almost every other minute.  

On more than one occasion, Mitch's arms would fall around her to reach for something. Their bodies would touch and Gret could feel cool breath on her nape. She wasn't sweating from the steam then. Her nipples were straining beneath her bra and her crotch was damp from the teasing. Gret knew she would have to excuse herself soon before she did something foolish with her pants on. 

Mitch was being extra solicitous. She reasoned her behaviour on the need to get Gret up to speed but her hands and body were straying closer to Gret, taking items that were near her, seeking an excuse to be close enough to smell her fruity shampoo and brushing their bodies together. 

During a lull in the afternoon, Gret disappeared to the back. Theodora positioned herself by a side table and motioned to Mitch, who made two coffees and a gin and tonic. She sighed as she flopped down next to her manager. 

Sipping her drink, Theodora inquired, "You gonna tell her before you both explode?" 

"Tell who what?" Mitch played dumb. 

"Her, that buff blonde babe you dragged in here." Theodora was in TC mode. 

Glaring at her colourful friend, Mitch growled, "What am I telling her?"  

"Put those eyes away. You don't scare me," TC chided. 

Mitch's jaw jutted out even further. 

"Honey," Theodora said soothingly, "I've been around this ole drag trip for a long time, I've known you a long time … and in all this time that we've been friends, I've never interfered in your personal life, mainly because you had none." 

She held her finger up for continued silence. "And now I see why. Don't think I don't know about your trips to the Jillboy club. I've never seen you last more than a month with some girl who's determined to catch you." Theodora glanced up to watch Gret wiping down the counter. "You and I know why they never lasted. I don't know why you feel you have to hide your preference, it's not exactly a state secret," Theodora tsked and rolled her eyes. 

Shocked, Mitch didn't know what to say. On the one hand, it was humiliating to know that her privacy was non-existent yet, on the other, it was freeing to know that it didn't matter either way. 

"Your secret lust is coming over, make sure the coffee is hot," TC laughed. 

Gret had finished her solo session in the washroom, it didn't take long. Then, she needed time to recompose so she pretended to clean up the bar.  

She sauntered over to join Mitch and TC. "Is that coffee for me?" she asked. 

"Sure is, sweetie. Strong and creamy, just the way Mitch likes it." Theodora winked at her. 

Mitch and Gret both spewed their drinks. 


Later, Mitch brought Gret and her bags home before the dinner rush hour. They barely had time to unpack and shower before racing back to work.  

At the club, Gret had shown a flair for bartending - she claimed she used to do it during her student days. Once again, Gret was the centre of attention. More than one phone number was slipped under the tab for her. One of the staff cattily said, "Fresh meat." 

Mitch was thankful for the never-ending stream of orders and chores behind the bar. After the conversation with Theodora, she kept her distance from Gret. She was afraid her behaviour had become obvious. Luckily, Gret was too busy to notice. 

By the time they came home in the morning, Gret was utterly exhausted. She mumbled an apology and dropped off like a light. 


Sunday morning and Gret was still snoring in bed. Mitch was up by ten. Force of habit and nervousness pricked her awake. She went out for some bagels and croissant but Gret was still sleep by the time the coffee was made, so Mitch had hers outside on the deck. 

The coffee by her hand was cold now. She had forgotten about it while thinking about yesterday. They would be spending time in close quarters today, with no third party demands. Mitch shook her head. She was fretting for nothing. Whatever misguided notion Theodora had, it would not come true. No, Siree

Shuffling noises could be heard from inside. The familiar sound struck a chord in her memory and Mitch shivered. 

Gret slowly made her way to the deck, yawning as she held a mug in her hand. "Good morning," she said as she touched Mitch on the shoulder. 

"Morning. How'd you sleep?" Mitch was suddenly aware of her nipples. 

"Like a log. Sorry for ditching you like that. I was just so tired. Man, I don't know how you do it every week." 

Mitch couldn't help smiling at her friend who had a serious case of bed head. Her eyes were half-lidded and her sleep shirt was wrinkled diagonally across her chest. Her boxer shorts flapped loosely around her runner's thighs. Mitch's eyes were drawn to her bare legs. 

"How long have you been up?" 

Startled, Mitch folded the newspaper and stood up, "Not long. Would you like a fresh cup?" she babbled before rushing inside. She took her time making up fresh coffees and blushed when she recalled Theodora's wicked comment. 

Gret had glimpsed solid thighs in rugger shorts when Mitch ran inside. Now, as she came out with two more mugs, Gret could better appreciate her powerful legs. Mitch wore a crew neck T-shirt which made her look comfortable and sporty at the same time. A slight breeze and her strides whipped the top against her torso. Gret could almost make out the toned upper body still hidden from view. 

She had not missed the way Mitch looked at her earlier and the slightly flustered look she wore now. With an internal grin, Gret stretched her arms above her head and straightened her legs in a full body stretch. The action pulled her shirt above her belly and strained it across her breasts while her leg muscles flexed. 

Mitch’s jaw dropped, and so did the two mugs she was carrying. 

“Shit!” Hopping back to avoid the splatter of hot liquid, Mitch stared at the mess, but she was still seeing the tautness of Gret’s body displayed moments before. 

“You OK?” Gret hadn’t meant to startle her that much. 

Greatly embarrassed by her reaction, Mitch bent down to clear the mess, “Yes, yes.” This time, it was Gret who was treated to a view of Mitch’s haunches and her broad back. When she walked inside to wash the mugs, Gret ogled her ass all the way. 

The brief departure gave them both a moment of respite. Silently berating themselves for different reasons, they were nonetheless aware of the heightened awareness of each other’s company. 

Sunday was a nominal day at work and after checking in at the café, Mitch and Gret drove out of town. They were spending the day in fruit country. Mitch explained about the orchards in the area and they stopped to sample from more than one producer. 

When they wanted to stretch their legs, Mitch went off road for a few miles and stopped by a quiet river. They set out their lunch and lazed on the grassy bank. Mitch was wearing cargo shorts and a singlet which showed her magnificent upper body, to Gret’s delight.  

In the bright sunshine, Gret decided to take chance on the vibes she felt. Ever since the incident this morning, she put two and two together to complete the picture. She was hoping the attraction was mutual. Standing opposite Mitch, she dropped her jeans and pulled off her tank top. 

Oh my god. Mitch couldn’t breathe. Gret was clad only in a sports bra and under shorts. Her body was lean, well defined and pale gold. Mitch could see years of dedicated running practice in those legs. 

Flinging a blanket on the ground, Gret slowly lay down and wiggled herself flat. She knew Mitch was watching so she made every move deliberate. 

“Is this place pretty private?” she asked. 

“Yes, very,” Mitch strangled out. 

Gret debated whether she should take off the rest of her gear. Teasingly, she called out, “I think I’ll sunbathe in the nude.” 

Mitch tripped over the hamper, “Ouch! No, wait. You don’t want to do that.” 

“Why not? You said there’s nobody here.” 

“I’m here,” Mitch said under her breath. 

Gret threw a tube at her. “Could you put some lotion on me? I don’t want to burn.” 

Hoboy! Mitch started to sweat. 

As she approached the prone figure, Mitch could only hear her own harsh breathing echoing inside her head. She dropped to her knees. “Aren’t you going to turn over?” 

Gret shaded her eyes as she lifted her head. “You can do the front.” As Mitch helplessly looked down her body, she challenged, “Or don’t you think you can handle that?” 

Mitch whipped her gaze to meet Gret’s clear blue eyes. Pleading brown eyes begged silently. 

Without breaking their visual connection, Gret reached for Mitch’s limp hand and placed it on her warm stomach. The contact made her abs clench and her eyes fluttered at the sensation.  

Mitch gave a small gasp and dropped her eyes to where her hand lay. Before she could think further, her hand slowly wiped and stroked the expanse of flesh. She was so fascinated by Gret’s heaving chest and the slight arch upward for more contact with her hand that she barely heard her hiss of pleasure. 

Mesmerised, Mitch trailed her fingertips under the bottom of Gret’s bra, along her ribs and down to her jutting hip bone. She continued the trail along the waistband of the Jockeys until the other side and completed the circuit back to where it started. Then, she splayed her large hand on the flat belly before slowly leaning in to place a kiss on the navel. 

Gret was trying not to pant for fear of breaking the spell. With a look and a touch, Mitch had aroused her so quickly she feared she would explode. Her nipples were high peaks straining for more contact and her breasts felt tight and urgent. Down below, she could feel her lower lips engorged as her pussy opened for attention. 

They were both waiting for the next move. Even the birds were silent. 

Knowing that she was the one to make or break the moment, Gret threaded her fingers through Mitch’s thick hair and pressed her head down gently. “Please,” she whispered. For a second, she felt resistance, then, with another brush of lips on her lower tummy, Mitch started pulling her shorts down slowly. Gret lifted her hips to aid the process and before even it was off, her legs were splayed open in readiness for the experience she had only dreamed about. 

Mitch was looking at her feet where Gret’s under shorts lay on the grass. She laid a finger on its crotch and felt the dampness. Lifting the finger to her face, she smelled it and sucked it. The line had been crossed. Although she was nervous, her desire to touch and taste Gret was too strong. She had been waiting for so long, never believing she would ever have the opportunity. It was now or never, and she knew such chances came only once in a lifetime. 

She turned her head and looked up the length of the body laid out in supplication. She crawled up to the centre of heaven, all the while kissing the legs that had driven her crazy for years.  

At her destination, she did not wait. She was driven by both her hunger and need to take from Gret. The urgency of her bottled desire after years of denial made her like a wolf. Mitch devoured Gret hungrily, pushing her higher and higher until she crashed though the gates of pleasure and still Mitch wouldn’t stop. Her tongue whipped and plunged into Gret’s depths, her hands cupped the feast in place so that Gret was helpless to evade the onslaught. She was treated to the skill of Mitch's agile tongue as it frenched every crevasse of her cunt, tasting her deeply and playing with her clitoris till the bundle of nerves enslaved her body. Her cries of ecstasy filled the Garden of Eden where they lay. 

Mitch fumbled with her own shorts when Gret finally pushed her head away. She tore them off and dragged her top off too. Gret was awed by the display of rippling muscles. Mitch was deeply tanned and her torso was sculpted down to flat hips. A proud, dark bush covered her mound and that was all Gret saw before Mitch settled gently on top of her. Her eyes snapped shut as Mitch finally paid attention to her breasts. Firm hands covered her breasts as she felt their lower halves mesh together. Mitch played with her nipples and nipped at her neck.  

Gret heard the harsh rasps coming from Mitch and her own answering. Their pussies were meeting furiously, straining to hit a rhythm that would take them over the edge. Gret grabbed Mitch’s ass cheeks and pulled them apart to better feel their clits meeting. They were humping desperately now. Gret ran a fingernail under Mitch's clit and plunged a finger into her ass. At the moment Gret felt Mitch coming, she kissed her hard. Mitch pressed into her clit and Gret met her at the crest of their orgasms. 

They stayed in that position, Mitch slumped on top and Gret stroking her back. Their breathing slowly metered out. Mitch still hadn’t said a word. Slowly, she lifted her head and started to kiss Gret. Memorising and relishing the taste of her mouth with long, slow kisses. Gret was treated to a languid exploration and felt her need rising. 

They made love again. This time slower, taking the time to learn about each other’s bodies. The wonder of a body hard that was soft in places, the bulge of muscle and corrugated abs, and the spots that elicited gasps and jerked to a sensitive reaction. Most of all, each absorbed the feel of a solid body they could wrap and hold, squeeze and press, without limitation. 

After their afternoon activities, they finally ate the picnic. Talking quietly, they shared their harboured crushes from years ago. Blushing, Mitch revealed that she frequented a private play party where she met women with similar preferences for other butch women. 

Gret didn’t know whether to be jealous or grateful. 

“You know, it’s not like that anymore. I wouldn’t want to have to hide what we have, but I can understand if it will affect your standing in the community.” Painful though it was, Gret felt she had to make the offer. 

“I’m not hiding anymore. I’ve come too far to stay in the closet.” Clasping their hands together, Mitch leaned in for a kiss, “And I’m glad you made the first move. I’ve wanted you ever since you decided to latch on to me.” 

“I didn’t know how to compete with those girls," Gret smiled slyly, "I had to find some way of getting your attention.” 

“Well, you got it now. Wanna go back and get more of it?” Mitch ran her hands over her lover’s boyish figure. 

“Who’s driving?” 


The ride home was full of shy smiles and touches. It got serious in the driveway when short kisses became more heated and hands started roughly grasping. Mitch led them into the house, stumbling up the stairs before Gret could tear her clothes off. There were some things best done in the bedroom. 

She didn’t get far. Gret crashed in after her and they were soon rolling on the bed. Gret had never had to wrestle anyone in bed and Mitch wasn't giving up her top position easily. Switching tack, Gret surprised Mitch when she stopped struggling.  

Gret lifted her thigh to Mitch's crotch when she crashed on top of the blonde. The contact activated Mitch's already excited clit and she roughly rode on it. The feel of Mitch's juices soaking her thigh made Gret painfully ready. She started to peel back her nether lips and stroke herself to Mitch's rhythmic grunts. 

To her surprise, Mitch stopped her hands and got off the bed. After quickly shedding the rest of their clothes, she rummaged in the bedside drawer and drew out a leather harness. She buckled herself in with her favourite tool inserted. All the while, Gret continued stroking herself. When Mitch was ready, she dragged Gret to the edge of the bed and slowly spread her legs. The taut calves and smooth funnel of Gret's legs rested comfortably on Mitch's shoulders. Mitch lightly scratched her nails along the back of the blonde's thighs, the stimulus causing Gret's pelvis to tilt up and her thighs to relax. 

Mitch held the phallus firmly at its base and rubbed its tip around Gret's clit. Her pussy was slick with juice and red hot. Mitch gently spread the swollen labia and used her hips to rub the ridged body of the dildo on Gret's clit, bumping it more as it distended. Creamy secretions coated the phallus and wet Gret's pubic hairs, plastering them against her crotch. Gret's throbbing arousal made her pull on the harness. 

"Just fuck me already!" she demanded. 

Looking intently into Gret's eyes for any sign of discomfort, Mitch slowly slid into her depths. The cock went in smoothly and Mitch swore she could feel the warmth surrounding the appendage. She set a slow light rhythm, thrusting in and out - alternating the length of her strokes and circling her hips. 

The sight of Mitch's naked, muscular body standing above and between her legs turned Gret on even more. The solid thighs and hips were in control, pumping and swaying. Her stomach twitched with each thrust and Gret could imagine Mitch's ass cheeks clenching and unclenching in time with her movements. She watched Mitch's eyes glaze over with pleasure, her breathing was harsh from excitement and sweat rolled down her chest. The feel of the cock sliding in and out was exquisite but as her body accommodated to the girth, Gret needed more. The initial friction was smoothed by the pre-cum easing the passage inside. 

"Oh yes, fuck me harder. Do it, Mitch!" 

Mitch was holding up Gret's knees. Watching hungrily as her cock drove harder into the welcoming space, she could feel the reverse pounding on her clit. At Gret's demand, she increased the ferocity of her fucking, her hips pistoning to hit the wonder spot. They were both groaning in rhythm. She reached out and placed a hand between Gret's breasts, the better to feel the effect of their movements. When Gret's inner muscles seized and pulsed around her cock, the tension reverberated back up to jam into Mitch's clit. Her hips snapped and jerked, roughly thrusting. Gret groaned long and loud as she reached her peak, and Mitch came with a loud shout, her orgasm following closely on Gret's. 

"Oh god, oh god!" Mitch was sniffling and breathing hard. She slobbered kisses all over Gret's chest and face, unmindful of her sweat raining down.  

Gret was in another headspace. The aftershocks were still milking the phallus deep inside her after that incredible fuck. She wanted to hold Mitch but her arms were too limp. Turning her face instead, she kissed the dark head on her shoulder. 

“You’re something else, babe,” Gret panted the words into the air.  

In the quieting aftermath, as the sweat cooled on their bodies, Mitch was assailed by doubts in the midst of heavy satiation. Where do we go from here?  

Gret had slightly different thoughts. She was overwhelmed by the explosive conclusion to her lifelong infatuation. Nothing had ever felt so right. The years apart and the women before then, all faded when compared to her attraction to Mitch. Their fiery sexual connection cemented their bond and Gret started to hope for more. 

Mitch wasn’t sure if Gret knew how much today meant to her. Losing control over someone who knew her from way back … Mitch felt a little vulnerable. Not only had she finally exposed a secret she had buried in her heart, but that unleashing it had given it the strength to beat down the walls of resistance.  

She was aware of the limited time they had. Was this a fling for Gret, a closure she sought for the crush she carried all those years ago? After all, she was on a business visit. Mitch didn’t even know what Gret’s life was like in Arizona. Was she attracted to the baby dyke she knew then or the older, confident Gret who had just blown the cover off her feelings? 

All Mitch knew for certain, at that moment, was the pull they could not deny. The sparks between them had started as friendship but the underlying passion had broken free. This time, they couldn’t have stopped it if they tried.

Determined to hold back the doubts, Mitch did the only thing she could control. Using her stomach muscles to lift her upper body, she rolled a surprised Gret onto her front and slowly started to rock her hips. 


Their marathon love making stopped only when Mitch was called into work the next day. They hadn’t exactly had time to talk but Gret was hoping to avoid any awkwardness when they did. 

She sent in her report and checked her emails. One of them caused her to frown. Picking up her cell phone, she dialled the number on the screen. 

“Jacquie Lomas speaking,” said a husky, female voice. 

“Jacquie, it’s Gret. I got your message.” 

“Hello, baby,” came the sultry reply. “You are always quick to call me.” 

“I don’t have time for games right now.” Gret tapped her pen rapidly on the table as her knee started bouncing. 

“You used to enjoy our little games, as I remember.” 

Sighing, Gret pointedly ignored the reminder, “What can I help you with? You sent me an email about a contract?” 

“Oh yes, that. Does it have to be business with you all the time?” 

“That depends.” 

Jacquie laughed throatily, “Of course. After all, that’s how we met.” 

“Look, I’m not anywhere near the office. You can send me the file and I’ll get back to you in a few days.” 

“Actually, the client is looking at a development near where you are. How fortunate is that? I can be there tomorrow with the file and we can recon the site together.” 

“What, tomorrow? I can’t! I mean, I’m still working on my last job.” Gret did not want to deal with Jacquie anywhere near Mitch. 

“Well, I’m printing out your report as we speak. I’m sure any corrections will be minor, which leaves you free to look over the next proposal.” 

“Jacquie, my contract expires in less than 2 weeks. We agreed this was the last job.” 

“I promise this won’t take long,” came the firm reply. “I’ll see you tomorrow around noon.” 

After the call, Gret held her head in frustration. Jacquie was a partner in a development company in Reno that had used Gret’s services for the past couple of years. They met at a function the company threw for its long list of contractors and affiliates. One drink led to some conversation and then, less clothes. They were casual lovers but Jacquie loved the thrill of conquering. She was possessive of their relationship at first, but then moved on to the next man or woman. However, when she wanted Gret, she expected to get her. 

Sighing at the whirlwind of events in her life, Gret mussed her hair with a vengeance. She knew why Jacquie was coming but she had future plans to make and she didn’t want to jeopardise her budding relationship with Mitch.  

Gret jumped when her phone rang. It was Mitch, asking if she wanted anything as she was on her way home. 

Gret tidied up her papers and jumped into the shower. She would deal with Jacquie tomorrow. 

Mitch let herself into the house and placed the flowers on a side table. 

Walking into her bedroom, she started to strip when the door to the ensuite bathroom opened and steam billowed out ahead of a naked Gret, who was towelling her hair dry. Mitch stopped her motions and took in the sight. The lean body had a slightly curved tummy and the hairs at the apex of her thighs were still darkly damp. 

Unable to stop herself, Mitch walked right up Gret and enfolded her in her arms. Gret dropped the towel and met the open mouthed kiss. Her nipples tightened upon contact with Mitch’s chest. The hands roaming her naked back and sweeping her bum caused her to gasp even as she hungrily devoured Mitch’s mouth. 

The open belt buckle was cold. Gret moved it aside and quickly pulled on Mitch’s fly. The buttons holding it close easily slipped out of their eyeholes. Mitch’s hand found its way to Gret’s crotch even as Gret’s hand crept inside her briefs. Together, they started rubbing and sliding their fingers on each other’s clit. Their tongues duelled in a frantic pattern and their thighs strained to open yet keep them standing. Gret held onto the back of Mitch’s neck as her fingers temporarily faltered, overtaken by the unstoppable orgasm building quickly inside. Her hips took up the rhythm over Mitch’s fingers and just before she came, Gret whipped her stiff fingers over Mitch’s clit, causing her to follow Gret over the edge.  

They sank down to the floor, their legs trembling from exertion. Gret lifted her hand and licked her wet digits. Rolling on top of Mitch, she pushed off her shirt and started kneading her breasts. Straddling lower, she ground herself on Mitch’s hard abs, then she bent over and suckled hard on the nipples she had been tugging. 

Mitch was panting. She placed her large hands on Gret’s ass and slowly moved her upwards. When Gret was kneeling over her face, she tugged on her hips and plunged her tongue straight into Gret’s sopping wet pussy. Using her lips and tongue, she worked the whole area, loving the way Gret cried out and gripped her hair. 

Feeling her body start to unravel again, Gret shifted herself to face Mitch’s centre. She buried her face in the musky redness of her lover’s pussy. She sucked and nipped at her clit, rubbed her puffy labia and unceremoniously fucked Mitch hard. She cried out as she felt Mitch do the same for her. Together, they rode out the intense storm of passion. 

Gret forgot all about tomorrow. 


Mitch was working in Scarlett, catching up on the admin work she had delayed because she and Gret had been having too much fun. Even this morning, it was hard to tear herself away from Gret’s body. Sitting in her office, she swivelled on her chair, all the while quietly smiling at the deep satisfaction and contentment she was enjoying. Her groin throbbed as she fantasised about their activities last night. 

A loud rap on her door snapped her awake. “Mitch, You gotta get over to Venus’s kitchen now!” The messenger wheezed, he had run over to her office as fast as he could.  

The clanging of pots and pans crashing over raised voices could be heard as Mitch got closer to the anterior of the café. She nodded to the wait staff who seemed stricken and hurried her steps. 

Inside the kitchen were three groups of people, two of them were pointing and arguing with each other and the third was watching the spectacle.  A few pots and lids sat off the rack but otherwise the place looked in order. Mitch moved in front of the quiet group. “Could y’all please wait outside?” 

“But what about the food orders?” one of them asked. 

Glancing at the arguing kitchen staff, Mitch said, “Take them to Scarlett’s restaurant. They’ll sort it out.”  

Mitch turned around in time to see one of the chefs waving a knife. “Hey!” she yelled. 


Gret glanced at her watch again for the tenth time. Jacquie was late, not that that was new, but she was impatient to get this meeting done and over with, and she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Jacquie’s ego. 

Shifting in her seat, she pulled one leg across over the knee of the other. The move reminded her of the tenderness still lingering in her groin. Her foot wagged in delight as her daydreams rolled in. She had a plan to relocate to Hurstville and make it her base. In her imagination, the future included Mitch. 

“There you are, darling.” A cloud of Shalimar preceded Jacquie’s arrival. 

Gret stood and kissed her perfunctorily, “How are you, Jacquie?” 

“Much better for finally catching you.” Jacquie gracefully lowered herself into the loveseat next to Gret. The skirt of her Donna Karan suit stretched high until it was barely covering her mound. She crossed her legs discretely. 

Jacquie was sensually groomed, as always, even in business attire. Her teased blonde hair fell generously into the square cut of her blouse, drawing attention to her pert breasts. The waist high red jacket she wore cinched above her hips, allowing their full curves to be displayed when she walked, swaying on delicate legs. If one could tear their eyes away from her killer body, her face was arrestingly beautiful. Jacquie’s mixed parentage had produced sloe eyes, bow shaped lips and coffee cream skin. Gret was not unaware of the sexy creature sitting next to her but their time together had passed. 

They ordered drinks from a roving waitress. Jacquie insisted she couldn’t move without a drink. When she passed over the file, Gret took a look at the location on the proposal and frowned, “This is near Houston. I thought you said the site wasn’t far from here.” 

Jacquie flicked her hair and shrugged, “It’s only a couple of hours drive, we’ll be back by tomorrow.” 

Annoyed, Gret threw the file on the table and said tersely, “I had plans tonight, Jacquie.” 

Her companion played with her fingernails and thought, Interesting. Picking up her glass, she swung it by a limp wrist. 

“Well,” finishing her drink, Jacquie picked up her handbag, “we’d better get a move on then.” She stood smoothly. 

Gret had already called for the check. She followed her client out of the lounge where they waited a few minutes for the car to be brought round. Gret got into the driver’s seat of the sedan. 

“You might want to pack an overnight bag,” Jacquie said as checked her make up in the sun visor.  

Clenching her jaw, Gret drove to Mitch’s place to pick up her bag, much to Jacquie's surprise. When she asked, Gret curtly said she was staying with a friend. 

“I didn’t know you had any close friends here.” 

“You don’t know everything about me, Jacquie,” Gret said. 

Then, she rang Mitch at her office but could only leave a message that she would be away for the night. 


Mitch’s hand was throbbing from a minor burn and a big bruise. After settling the argument in the kitchen, Mitch had to stay around to lend a hand, which accounted for her injuries. Ruefully, she reminded herself belatedly that she was not qualified to meddle in a busy kitchen. Glancing at the mark, she thought, well, the other scars will keep the new one company. 

Scarlett was hosting a small bridal party that night and her chef there was not happy to be diverted from his work to provide support for the café. Mitch had had to soothe egos all around the whole day and hers was worked thin by the evening. To top it off, every time she thought of Gret, restlessness would creep in. She tried to ignore her insecurity but experience prepared her for the worst. 

An empty house greeted Mitch on a quick trip home for a shower. The temptation to peek into the guest room was strong. She passed it several times, fiddling with unnecessary items on pretext. On one crossing, she noticed that Gret’s files and laptop were gone. A cold tingle shot up her spine. Her hand fumbled for the doorknob. The door opened to reveal a room that was neatly tidy. No open bags or unused clothes could be seen. 

Disappointment batted against wariness as Mitch carefully closed the door. She didn’t want to think beyond the usual reasons. She could be working, probably had to meet a client. The missing items stood at the edge of her mind, mocking her thoughts. 

When she crawled in later, she knew by the still air that Gret had not returned. Grim faced, Mitch took out her business card and placed it in the bottom of a drawer. 


Jacquie did not become successful by being obtuse. Gret’s manner throughout the day had been short. It was obvious that the side trip was not a welcome diversion. 

The client insisted upon showing them the entire location, taking great pains to point out the special features that had attracted them in the first place. Jacquie could see Gret taking it all in with an experienced eye. The blonde was professionally switched on and Jacquie felt a tingle when she remembered her own ulterior motive. She brushed the dust from her red skirt and made a mental note to send her shoes in for a clean. This brought her back again to the intimate contents of her suitcase. Sighing at the approach of the group in hard hats, she prepared herself for a long evening. 

Several meetings ran into each other and it was late by the time Gret and Jacquie checked into their hotel. Gret just wanted a shower to remove the dust and manly odours accumulated from the site and being in the company of too many men. She trudged behind Jacquie’s crisp pace and followed her into a room. Dropping both their bags beside the bed, she then checked the bar fridge for water. Jacquie was already on the phone. 

Drinking thirstily, Gret slumped into an armchair, waiting for her next instructions. This whole trip was on company time but Jacquie always needed extra attention. Gret crossed her ankles on the footstool, half listening to the tinny sounds from the receiver. Unclipping her cell phone from her belt, she checked the message bank again. There were no calls from Mitch. 

“Pour me a drink, will you, darling?” Jacquie said. Gret mixed a gin and tonic and brought it to her. “Mmm, lovely.” 

They both imbibed in silence, neither thinking about work. Jacquie slipped her heels off, then, sauntered into the bathroom with her bag. Gret heard the shower run. Despite herself, her mind conjured the image of a very wet, full breasted, naked Jacquie under the shower, water sluicing off her curves making her brown skin sleek. 

The bathroom door opened and Jacquie walked up wearing a red lace teddy under her gaping robe. Gret gulped as Jacquie leaned forward, exposing her cleavage. The hapless blonde was surrounded by warm, moist scent. Her lips parted as the vision moved closer.   

A plastic tag was dangled in front of her eyes, startling Gret from her stupor. She took it. It was a room key. 

“Don’t let me keep you up late,” Jacquie said with a smirk before returning to the bathroom. 

The key was for the room next door. 

Jacquie was in the shower enjoying the cleansing hot water. Steam swirled and rose around her, light enough not to obscure but slowly filling the bathroom. Her face was upturned into the waterfall, forcing her eyes close but not wetting her hair. One leg was slightly bent and both hands slowly traversed her body, lightly stroking. 

The shower stall door opened silently. The shift in temperature made her shiver slightly and she moved to let the hot water beat down her back. A warm cascade was now her mantle. 

She felt the touch on her shoulder. The hand slid from behind to cup her throat. Jacquie relaxed into the touch by sweeping her head to one side and exposing her neck. The kiss that followed on the tender area made her closed eyes tighten. Another hand slipped down her front, brushing her breasts and headed straight for her pussy. Strong fingers covered it, then one made its way in. Jacquie gasped at the masterful touch, her nipples were already erect and the water beating down made them even more sensitised. Her hips started moving, inviting more pressure from the finger. She could feel the wetness from inside slicking the invader more than the water.  

A hot body pressed up against her back, with unceasing lips nipping and sucking on her sensitive shoulders. Despite the moisture in the air and the tiny drops falling on them, Jacquie’s lips were dry. She needed more. 

Turning around swiftly, she looked into dark brown eyes for a heated moment before bringing Mitch’s head down for a hungry kiss. 

“Arrgh!” Gret’s limbs flailed in a fight to remove the bed covers. They ceased when she realised she was in her own room. What the hell? 

She fumbled for the light switch and winced at the sudden brightness. Damn! Her hand rubbed the back of her sweaty neck. Unsettled and disturbed from the dream, she kicked off the top sheet and rolled out of bed. In the bathroom, she poured herself a glass of tap water after wetting her face, then, she walked to the window, drew back the curtains and watched the lights below. The quiet hum of the air conditioning and an occasional closing door did not disturb her involuntary vigil the rest of the night as she tried to reconcile the images in her mind. 

It was a solemn breakfast affair. Jacquie and Gret read the newspapers while nibbling on the complimentary buffet. Then, they adjourned back up to their rooms before meeting the client. Gret printed off the draft report she had worked on when she couldn't sleep and took it, and her bags, next door. She watched Jacquie finish packing and slip on the grey jacket of her suit. They checked out of the hotel just in time for the next meeting. 

As Gret drove back to Hurstville, her earlier tension returned. Jacquie had insisted on staying for a couple of days and the possibilities posed by her presence were worrying, although she had been nothing but professional and civil. By her increasingly relaxed sitting posture, Gret knew that Jacquie was looking forward to the evening, and the knowledge tightened the stress in her own shoulders. 


Theodora's lot this morning was dealing with a scowling Mitch. For someone who was always careful to project a friendly image, her black mood was an unusual occurrence, leading to some gossip and whispers. Fortunately, most assumed it was a hangover from the kitchen drama. 

Mitch tackled the unending list of tasks like the IRS was conducting an audit. She resolutely stayed in the kitchen or behind the counter, chasing paperwork and being curt with the staff. Her mood was affecting them all. 

Just when Theodora thought it was just a bad day, Mitch suddenly glared thunderously over the café. TC followed her line of sight and saw Gret enter with a stunning woman on her arm. Looks like trouble in paradise already. She saw Gret's eyes search for Mitch immediately but the café owner's face was expressionless. 

Gret's mood lifted when she saw Mitch. She willed her to look up and started to smile when Mitch returned her gaze. But the eyes that greeted her were cold set in a stony visage. 

"This is nice place," Jacquie said as she flipped over the menu. "Hasn't changed much since I was here last." 

Startled, Gret looked at Jacquie. "You've been here before?" 

"Who hasn't? It's one of the most famous places on the strip," Jacquie licked her lips and added, "I've found the personal service from the owner to be quite exceptional." 

The insinuation brought back last night's dream and Gret felt her stomach plummet. That, and the cold reception from Mitch was creating nervous frissons. 

While waiting for their order, Jacquie studied her quiet companion. The drive back was filled with tension, and not the good kind. It seemed her little gamble in the hotel room not only failed but had also exacerbated their already strained trip. "So, what are your plans after Reno?" she asked. "Have you had other offers?" 

"I think it's time for a change of pace," Gret said absently. Her mind was weighing the idea of relocating for a temperamental relationship. 

"Mitch, darling. How are you?"  

"Jacquie, always a pleasure." Mitch had stopped by their table at TC's insistence. "Gret," she nodded at the blonde. 

When Mitch saw Jacquie hanging on Gret’s arm, she knew there could be only one reason Jacquie would be so close to another. She herself had felt the effect of Jacquie’s attention. Until now, Mitch had never had reason to be jealous of her lovers but seeing Jacquie acting possessive over Gret drove the doubt home. Mitch must have been just a fling, and her anger after a long night bubbled over at Gret’s deception. She felt a fool for wanting more. Obviously, women like Jacquie would always have Gret’s interest. 

Gret was aware of the tightness of Mitch's smile which didn't reach her eyes. Then, Mitch turned away from her and spoke exclusively to Jacquie for a few minutes, completely ignoring her. Gret stared at the ramrod straight back and tense shoulders, then down Mitch's ass and solid legs. She remembered what they felt like in her hands, hard and smooth. 

The conversation slowly filtered through. "… so I'll be around for a few days. I hope you'll save an evening for me." Jacquie's cocoa painted nails were lightly stroking Mitch's arm. 

"I'll see what I can do," Mitch smirked cruelly, "but won't Gret mind?" 

Jacquie's eyes twinkled, "It's only business between us," she said coyly, "but if you'd like her to join us …" The thought was suddenly, very tantalising to Jacquie. 

Both Gret and Mitch looked at each other, shocked. 

Angry, Gret threw her napkin on the table. "Excuse me, I have to confirm our hotel reservations," she bit out before storming outside. 

Jacquie looked at Mitch only to see that her gaze followed the blonde all the way out the door. 

Patting Mitch's hand, Jacquie explained, "It was a stressful trip. Demanding clients, you know." 

When Gret returned, she scowled all through lunch. Jacquie's blatant flirting and Mitch's cool attitude were wearing on her already thin nerves. When Jacquie went to powder her nose, Gret settled the bill. TC was at the counter.  

"Everything all right, hon?" she asked. Gret's eyes were shadowed and her black mood was a match with the other one. 

"Everything's just peachy, TC. Just freaking peachy," she sighed. 

"Who's the shady lady?" TC dawdled with the bill. 

"A client." Gret wasn't in the mood to chat. 

"Mitch know that?" 

Bitterly, Gret said, "Seems they know each other well enough." 

Intuitively, TC asked, "Will you be leaving us soon, then?" 

A muscle in Gret's jaw jumped and she blurted, "Funny you should say that. I had an idea about moving here but I don't think that's going to work out now." 

TC handed her the credit slip. "Why, what's changed? This is a great place to live, especially for girls like you." TC was pointedly looking at her. 

Gret shook her head. "What would I do here, TC? I've been moving around for years and each city is the same as any other. The only difference would be if …" she couldn't say it. 

"If you had something special invested?" 

"What? Yes, I guess so." That wasn't exactly what Gret had in mind. 

Closing her wallet, she looked up to see Mitch in deep conversation with Jacquie. The woman's body was tipped very close to Mitch and they had their hands on each other’s arms. TC watched all three carefully. 

Scribbling a note, she said, "Gret, I have a proposition for you." 

Gret tore her eyes away from the pair. "What is it?" she said harshly, struggling to control her frustration. Mitch and Jacquie were obviously making plans for later, and she didn't have to guess what kind. In one day, she had gone from elation to despair, and now, jealousy was tearing her heart out. 

"I'll be home this evening. Here's my address, can you find your way there?" TC held out a small card. 

Looking at it, Gret said, "Yes." 

"I'll see you then. And Gret, it's important. For both of us." 

Gret solemnly nodded. She tucked the card into her breast pocket just as Jacquie walked up and they left the café. Gret did not look back. 


TC's ground floor condo was in an exclusive residential complex. Tightly regulated but immaculately kept, the walled enclave looked very straight to Gret. She couldn't reconcile the atmosphere with the colourful character she was here to see. 

The chime of the doorbell was greeted by muffled yapping and the sound of nails scrambling to the door. TC opened it wearing a caftan and carrying a furry terrier. A scarf covered her hair and blue slippers protected her feet. 

Shushing the dog, she let Gret in, leading her into the kitchen. 

An hour later, Gret closed the folder she was reading. TC had left her alone while she tended to her orchids in the courtyard. Gret walked out and found her humming away as she played with one, the dog at her feet. 

"It's a good proposal." Gret picked up a seedling. There were other plants and herbs in the modest yard but the orchids had pride of place. 

"I know," TC hummed. "Would you take it?" 

"I might, but that depends on your long term plans. It's a big investment." She fiddled with a trowel. 

TC sat down heavily on a bench. "Mitch and I want it. In fact, we've already put in a deposit," she said. 

"Okay?" Gret was puzzled. 

"But it's like you said, a big investment. And I won't be here to look after it." She flicked a speck off her lap. 

"Why not?" 

TC looked up, a smile lighting her eyes, "A … gentleman friend would like it very much if I moved in with him, in Florida." 

"Florida … does Mitch know?" 

"Not yet. I wanted to be sure before I told her." 

Gret said sympathetically, "He's not sure?" 

TC laughed, "Oh, he's sure. As am I." 

Gret grinned, "Good for you." 

"Would you consider buying my share?" TC laid her plan out. 

"Of the new shop?" Gret was surprised. 

TC nodded, "Yes. It also includes my share of the café, since they will be connected." 

"Have you asked Mitch?" 

"She has her hands full. She needs a partner, Gret, and I think you'd be perfect," TC smiled encouragingly. 

Gret crossed her arms and plucked at her lower lip. Commercially, she was intrigued, personally, she wasn't so sure. The thought of being with Mitch everyday swayed her decision. 

"I'll have to think about it." 

"Of course, but I should warn you," TC said, "I have to tell Mitch by the end of the week. My plane ticket is already booked." 

"Gee, you're confident," Gret said, amused. 

"Fate has a way of bringing us what we desire, child." 


While Gret was away, Mitch decided to take up Jacquie’s offer of a drink. So what if it’s early? It's Happy Hour somewhere, but she knew that going up to Jacquie’s room would lead to more than a drink. 

Jacquie greeted her, obviously coming out from a shower. She wore the hotel’s thick fluffy robe and her hair was curling damply. Mitch gingerly sat in a huge armchair, well away of the presence of the big bed in the room. She accepted a mixed vodka from Jacquie, who then made herself comfortable on the ottoman. Her robe slipped open to reveal her crossed bare legs. 

“It’s been a while, Mitch,” Jacquie purred, licking her lips. “Why don’t we get you more comfortable,” she said, putting down her glass and walking over, her hands slowly sliding out the tie on her robe. She sat on Mitch’s lap and leaned in to kiss her slowly. 

Mitch was confused by her own reaction. What am I doing here? I’m not the kind of person to step in between a couple. Even if there’s nothing going on between Gret and Jacquie, there is … was something I wanted with Gret. Fucking this woman is not going to change what happened. Wake up, Mitch. You’re not a barbarian, she scolded herself, it might be fine for people like them to use others but it’s not your style. 

Her hands, which had automatically clasped Jacquie’s hips, now steadied the woman as she stood up. Mitch slowly ended the kiss. 

Jacquie felt the lack of response, tilted her head back and looked into Mitch’s eyes. She saw regret but no interest. Her hand moved over to Mitch’s breast, pressing into and feeling the slight rise of the nipple. But before she could continue, Mitch gently drew her hand away. 

“No,” was all Mitch said. The look in her eyes brooked no argument 

My god, two butches have rebuffed me in two days. Am I losing my touch or is everyone in this town impotent? Jacquie huffed in disappointment. Embarrassed, she stepped back and retied her robe. 

“I’m sorry, I assumed …” 

Mitch smiled sadly, “It’s not you,” she assured her. 

Oh, thank god, Jacquie was relieved. “Would you like to talk about it?” She had never seen Mitch so distracted. 

“Not really. But you could say I’m getting over someone.” 

Jacquie clapped her hands together and grinned, “I know just what we need to lighten a very awkward afternoon.” She opened the fridge and started picking out the miniature alcohol bottles, “I’d prefer Tequila but these’ll do.” 

A few drinks later, Mitch had pushed her boots off and was slouching in her chair, laughing at Jacquie’s anecdotes about disastrous encounters. 

“Yep, I don’t always score, even with this body,” Jacquie gestured wildly at it. “You know, about Gret …she wouldn’t even put out last night.” 

Mitch’s heart rate picked up. 

“She’s really not like that at all. Did you see the look on her face when I said …” Jacquie giggled uncontrollably, then sobered, “Anyway, as you can tell, I was a bit frustrated. I’m sorry, Mitch,” she placed a hand on Mitch’s thigh, “I hope I didn’t offend you.” 

“Not at all,” Mitch smiled widely, “you just made me feel a whole lot better.” 


It was late by the time Gret returned to the hotel. She slowly made her way up to her room, her mind still on TC's words. As she approached the door, she tucked the folder under her arm and extracted the card key from her pocket. While jiggling the unresponsive card in the slot, the folder dropped. Gret bent to pick it up just as the door next to hers opened and Mitch stepped out. 

Gret's eyes trailed up Mitch's boots, jeans, her untucked shirt and her tousled hair. Mitch had a surprised look on her face. Then, Gret saw Jacquie come up behind Mitch, barefooted and dressed in the hotel bathrobe. 

The breath left Gret's body in a rush. She felt like she had been punched in the breadbasket. The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale and dumbstruck. 

Schooling her features to hide her crushed hopes, she tersely said, "Hello, Mitch." 

"Gret," Mitch stammered, "Hey, I was going to see if you …" 

"So soon?" Gret said snidely. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from …" she waved her hand, "I have some business to attend to, if you'll excuse me." Gret violently swiped her card and this time, the door opened. 

Mitch picked up the folder and read the cover. She frowned at Gret, "Where did you get this?" 

Snatching the folder back, Gret snarled, "That's my business." 

Mitch growled, her brow arching deeper into her frown, "Not when it concerns mine." 

Jacquie was watching the standoff. Her eyes widened at the tension. 

Coming to a decision, Gret took a deep breath and said calmly, "Then I suggest you speak to Theodora tomorrow," before walking into her room and slamming the door shut. 

What the fuck? Mitch stalked off fuming, leaving a bewildered Jacquie standing in the open doorway. 


The next day, Mitch waited impatiently for Theodora at the café. It was noon by the time she swooped in, beaming and air kissing her way through the patrons. Mitch stood, arms crossed over her chest, in the doorway to the back area. Her legs planted solidly apart as if to brace herself against bad news. 

"Mitch," Theodora cooed as she held out her arms. "I have the most wonderful news to tell you." 

"Really," Mitch said flatly, "it wouldn't be about the shop next door, would it?" 

Tugging the bigger butch towards the back, Theodora said conciliatorily, "Let me explain everything." 


"Is this the change of pace you were talking about?" Jacquie shouted over the din of construction work. 

Gret smiled and waved at the figure below. Then, she hopped her way down to greet her friend. 

Jacquie couldn't help admiring the blonde as she made her way easily down from the scaffold, using paint cans and any steady object as stepping stones, and dodging stacks of materials and tools. The whole place was a huge mess and very noisy, but Gret was grinning happily. She was dressed in a singlet and denim cut-offs. Her tool belt weighed heavily on one side of her hips and her arms and legs were covered with fine dust, but she never looked happier.   

Gret’s boots raised powder as she walked to the entrance but stopped a few feet away from Jacquie. She raised her eyebrow at Jacquie’s designer attire. 

“I’d hug you but then you might kill me,” Gret grinned. 

“Definitely,” Jacquie laughed. She glanced up, “This looks busy.” 

“Yep, come on. I’ll show you around,” Gret said as she handed Jacquie a hard hat, “mind your heels,” she pointed out. 

After a quick tour, they went outside.  

“You’ve done good, Gret. I’m so happy it all worked out for you.” Jacquie was sincerely pleased about Gret's new venture. When Gret confided about the shaky start, Jacquie had casually thrown help her way.  

“Thanks. Are you here on business?” 

“No, but speaking of business, how’s Mitch?” 

Gret looked away, “She’s fine. We’ve been very busy, what with the renovations and launch coming up.” 

Theodora had had a hard time convincing Mitch to accept her decision but ultimately, she had to as Gret had signed the papers that morning. Still, Mitch was not happy at the change of events. Despite the hostile reception, Gret focused only on the new venture, taking on the load of executing Mitch’s original plans. She had planned on being a silent partner but quickly realised that Theodora was right about the workload. Determined to stay on an even footing, Gret kept the relationship professional, only speaking to Mitch about the business and keeping their work areas separate. But she would venture into the club on the busy nights when she could watch Mitch unobserved. The muscular woman moved confidently in her environment and Gret’s eyes would caress what her hands ached to touch. 

“Have you told her yet?” Jacquie prodded. 

Gret mussed her hair and sighed, “Don’t go there, Jacquie.”  

The shock of seeing Mitch that afternoon was hard to shake, even after she found out that Mitch had not slept with Jacquie. Gret had berated herself for falling for a sexual animal who didn’t seem to care who she slept with. The stoic faced Mitch she faced everyday was wearing her down, making their brief time together seem surreal. 

“Why the hell not? You know nothing happened between us that day,” Jacquie was indignant at her friend’s stubbornness.  

Gret glared at her, “You didn’t have to try and fuck both of us, Jacq.” 

Jacquie rolled her eyes and clutched her handbag tighter, “I’m not going to apologise for that again. It was a mistake. If you’d told me why you weren’t interested, it would have saved me a lot of embarrassment, did you think about that?” 

Throwing her hands up in surrender, Gret said contritely, “You’re right.”  

Jacquie smiled, “Let’s not fight. It’s been months since I saw you, and this time, I’m here to get me some boo-tay.” She snapped her fingers. 


“And then, the music will cue and stay in the background as the emcee runs through each candidate,” The organiser informed Mitch and handed over a list of names, “I have ten slaves confirmed, including you.” 

Mitch cringed at the term and shook her head in distaste, “Are you sure we have to do this?” 

“Hey, you wanted to raise funds and launch the bath house. This is the perfect way to do it. Slave auctions are very very popular, you know.” 

Rubbing her forehead, Mitch sighed, “Alright, but make sure everyone knows the rules.” 

The queen made a note on his clipboard, “The rules, yep, sure,” he grinned and flounced off. 

Stepping outside to get away from the rehearsal in the club, Mitch peered across the street to the new bath house, still under renovation. It wouldn’t be ready by tomorrow night for the unofficial launch but it was on schedule. 

She moved back into the shadows when she saw Gret and Jacquie come out to sit on a bench. They were talking and laughing until Gret looked across the street, her face sombre. Mitch felt a flash of guilt because she knew that she was the reason for that expression. 

Their affair was a no-go area, but the desire between them still smouldered. Mitch tried to ignore the fact that her eyes followed Gret everywhere. When she saw Gret at moments like these, dressed in work boots and body hugging gear, or at the club occasionally, all slick and shiny, she could feel herself get wet and hard. She ignored the flirtation from other women. Her visits to the Jillboy club did not give her pleasure anymore. She was aware that quick fucks were not the answer for what she truly wanted. 

Sometimes, in the heat of discussion, they would glare at each other, each daring the other to face the white elephant in the room. The arguments about the business, the insecurity Mitch faced, Gret’s early hurt, all served to aggravate their working relationship. It eventually settled down but their distrust did not abate the attraction between them. Mitch knew her pride and suspicion held her back from clearing the air. 

Seeing Jacquie brought back the confusion. Even though Jacquie and Gret were not lovers anymore, the dread that Gret would prefer a sultry skirt to a hard butch like herself, combined with the abandonment that night, lay heavy on her self esteem. Mitch had never felt so vulnerable then, and she still struggled to keep that hidden. Yet, she wanted so much to show Gret how she felt.  Mitch's inability to express her feelings and the circumstances blocking her need to demonstrate her affection discouraged her even more. 

Frustrated, she turned back inside. 


The boom of the bass was shaking the air outside Scarlett. The bouncers fancied that they could see the windows of the other shops and cars shudder from the sonic vibration. The line to enter the club was streaming up the whole block. The strip, already busy on a weekend night, was locked by the increased traffic to Scarlett.  

Inside, the drag king and drag queen shows kept the crowd entertained, lucky draw prizes to the new bath house kept everyone happy. Mitch had to be dragged away from the bar by TC, who was here to emcee the auction. Right now, Mitch was fiddling with her tuxedo. It was hot in the club and she didn’t want to soak the shirt with perspiration. She was also nervous. The women in the crowd looked hungry. 


Mitch was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door to her office open. Through the mirror, she saw Gret step in. She turned round to face her friend. 

“I knocked,” Gret gave a small shrug. 

Mitch nodded, her eyes taking in Gret’s leather outfit that looked like gold, or butter cream. Her hair had been stylishly highlighted, setting off the soft spikes. Her lean body looked delicious, long and endless in the customised Buck Rogers racing suit design. The simple white tee shirt underneath and white boots completed the chic look. 

Suddenly, Mitch was aware that she was shirtless. She quickly shrugged it on, fingers fumbling to button it up. Her nipples were poking through her white sports bra and she knew Gret had noticed. She busied herself tucking the shirt in her pants. 

Silently, Gret walked up to face Mitch. She closed the collar and slid her hand behind Mitch’s neck, cupping it. Mitch was forced to look at Gret. They stood barely six inches apart, each noting up close the pupils that dilated instantly and the sudden intake of breath at the touch. Mitch’s eyes dropped to Gret’s lips. Her own slightly parted as they both leaned in. 

Gret’s fingers secured the pin at the back of Mitch’s collar. Then, her arm retracted, bringing her hand sliding back to halt in the middle of Mitch’s chest. Still watching Mitch’s lips, Gret reached down and picked up the bow tie from the desk. 

“I can help you with this,” she said as she held the item up. 

Mitch swallowed and just nodded. 

Gret set to work, expertly looping and settling the bow tie on perfectly. She kept her eyes level with Mitch’s chin, the intimacy of the act not lost on either of them and it raised their suppressed arousal level higher. 

Gret kept her eyes averted until the suit jacket was firmly filled. She adjusted the lapels and shirt buttons to the fly, feeling the soft bulge inside, keeping Mitch helplessly immobile. After checking the sleeves, she then smoothed her hands all over the jacket, using the opportunity to feel the hardness of Mitch’s body trembling under her touch. 

When Gret finished, she looked up and saw glittering eyes staring at her intently. Mitch was standing erect, a half smile on her face. Her silk blend suit was perfectly tailored, just hinting at her muscles. The cut of the jacket emphasised her broad shoulders, and the low hips of the pants would bring attention to her thighs and groin when she swaggered down the catwalk. 

“You look good,” Gret said sadly but covered it up with a grin. She wouldn’t wait to see who won Mitch tonight. “You are going to cause some heartbreak tonight,” she teased. “Shall I tell the bouncers to have the fire hose ready?” 

“No,” Mitch’s voice rumbled from her chest. She had forgotten about the auction as soon as she saw Gret. If anything, she was the one who would need a hosing down after what Gret just did. 

Gret crooked a grin, “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, patting Mitch on the shoulder, only to have her hand grabbed. 

“Gret, we have to talk,” Mitch said earnestly, curling her fingers firmly over Gret’s hand 

Mesmerised by her body’s reaction to the rough feel of Mitch’s touch, Gret said huskily, “Sure. Later tonight.” 

“Oh, God, I can’t. I’m … uh … a slave for the whole weekend,” Mitch ran a hand through her short hair in frustration. It flopped back rakishly, the forelock escaping to curl against her forehead. 

Gret’s heart clenched at the reminder. “I’m sure it can wait,” she sighed. 

A rap on the office door was the cue for the show. Mitch looked at Gret and the door, torn between the auction and saying her piece. The knock came again. 

“I have to go. Wait for me,” Mitch pleaded. 

“Always,” Gret smiled with her eyes. 


All ten candidates were paraded to the crowd, then one by one. Five men and five women were up for grabs. The club was packed, serious jostling for a good view kept the atmosphere charged. Bidders were registered with a number that they flashed during the auction.  

As it got closer to the last candidate, the energy became more desperate. Previous losers and those saving for last were determined not to go home empty handed. When the bidding opened for Mitch, the last candidate, it quickly escalated. TC made Mitch walk up and down the catwalk to tease the howling crowd. A couple of women had to be dragged off the stage. Mitch was amused by the lingerie and flowers thrown her way but she kept well centre of the walk. Grasping hands could be quick. 

Despite her initial decision not to watch the auction, Gret was fascinated by the event. When it was Mitch’s turn, Gret could feel the rush of approval in the crowd. She herself could only gape as Mitch confidently walked the aisle. Her first run was a confident stride to the beat of the music. This was followed by another pass but with a slower gait, hands on hips making her crotch thrust forward on every step. The sexy roll of her hips teased the crowd and the bidders could barely be heard above the roar. Gret found herself breathing a little harder when Mitch finally finished her walk. 

Keeping the flow fast, TC moved the bidding along until only a few women were left in the race. The auction figure moved up until two women battled it out. Gret couldn’t see who they were despite the spotlight. 

In the end, the winner was announced and Gret watched in disbelief as Jacquie was helped onto the stage. Amid huge applause, Jacquie signed over a cheque for the full amount. She made the crowd laugh when she winked and grabbed Mitch’s butt. They kissed for show and TC finished the night to music. 

Stunned and bitterly disappointed, Gret almost broke down. She had not expected this, betrayed a second time by the person she had grown to trust. Fuck you, Jacquie. Gret felt sick to her stomach. She blindly pushed her way out, feeling the surging press of bodies impeding her way. Bar smoke mixed with the sour smell of alcohol made her head spin. As soon as she stumbled out of the building, she ripped off her jacket and hailed a taxi home. 


The balmy night carried the mating calls of crickets and frogs. Gret lay on the damp grass in her garden, a bottle of rum and a glass by her hip, smoking a cigarette to chase a joint. Her eyelids were mere slits as they took in the stars, her ears full of night sounds and the crackling of cigarette paper.  

The buzz was wearing off when she heard the doorbell's soft but insistent chimes. Sounds like fucking Christmas, Gret groaned as she rolled to her knees before standing up, swaying for a moment. Sniffling when she felt goosebumps on her arms from the air hitting her damp tee shirt, she loped her way to the door. 

Jerking it open, she barked, "What?" 

Mitch looked from Gret to the card she held in her hand. The address Jacquie had given her was Gret's place? Gret was sleeping with Jacquie? 

"What are you doing here, Mitch? Shouldn't you be at Jacquie's beck and call somewhere?" Gret had had it with being nice. Nice had kept her waiting for nought. 

"Obviously, this is a mistake," Mitch said coldly as she hefted her black bag. "Tell Jacquie she can reach me on my cell phone." Then, she turned round to head back to her car. 

"Tell her yourself," Gret grabbed her cell phone and threw it at Mitch, yelling, "I don't fucking know where she is and I don't care. You can take your games elsewhere and leave me the hell alone!" The phone bounced off Mitch’s broad back. 

Mitch stopped walking. Her back stiffened and she turned around. Stomping back to Gret, nostril's flaring, eyes glittering, she growled, "Listen you … I'm just keeping my end of a bargain. It could have been anyone who won me tonight. Is it a coincidence that your girlfriend did? I don't know!" Pressing her hands to her head, Mitch moaned, "This is completely fucked up." She looked at Gret, "Do you even know what you want?" 

"You have a nerve asking me that," Gret said. "Wait, how did you find me?" 

Mitch waved a small card, "Jacquie told me to be at this address for the whole weekend." 

Gret frowned, "She's not here. She only stays in hotels when she travels." 

"Then why am I here?" 

"Fuck if I know," Gret mumbled, her head drooping. 

Mitch jerked Gret's chin up and said, "Don't be a smart ass."  

Gret could smell the heady scent of Mitch's leathers as she tried to knock off Mitch's grip, but her hand was too slow. "Piss off," she grumbled. 

Sneering, Mitch poked her shoulder hard, "Don't tell me to piss off, kid." She kept jabbing at Gret, moving her backwards into the house. 

Gret tried to avoid or swat at the annoying hand but she kept missing. The jabs were hurting more and she felt her temper rise, "Stop it, Mitch," she warned. 

"Or what? What're you going to do about it, kid?" Mitch kept on pushing her hard. After what happened in the club, she was not about to deal with Gret's hot and cold moods - first coming on to her and then, kicking her out. Mitch was going to take matters into her own hands. 

Gret started pushing back but Mitch was a lot stronger. A few steps further and suddenly, her back was against the wall. Then, her wrists were gripped and forced above her head. They struggled against each other, panting and pushing until Mitch ground her muscular body against the length of Gret's arched body. Her thigh pressed between Gret's, and Gret gasped when she felt it flex strongly. Her hips surged forward, allowing her clit to ride on the immovable limb. 

Mitch swooped in and kissed her hard. They were breathing harshly through their clashing kisses as their hips rocked against each other. The rhythm gathered intensity until they bent their knees to mash their clits harder, trying to quell and give in to the urgent need to come. Gret's hands were now clutching at Mitch's shoulders to steady herself even as Mitch used her broad hands to slide Gret's leather clad ass over her thigh. 

With a small cry into Mitch's ear, Gret's hips jerked frantically as she peaked. Mitch nuzzled her sweaty neck and whispered encouragement, "Oh yeah, come for me, Gret."  

While Gret tried to recover her breath, Mitch dropped to her knees and unzipped Gret's leather pants. She peeled them down, along with the soaked thong. Hungrily, she eyed Gret's red and puffy pussy. She used her fingers to spread Gret's wetness all over, and then she dived in, sucking on Gret's hard clit and mercilessly lashing it with her tongue. Her fingers pushed into Gret, fucking her slowly and gently in contrast to her demanding mouth. 

Gret groaned, clutching Mitch's head and humping her face. Her pants prevented her legs from spreading further and her legs trembled from the strain of keeping herself standing. Her orgasm hit her without warning. Gret's mouth opened in a silent scream as her cunt pumped its juices into Mitch's greedy mouth. Gret slumped over at the waist, her shaking legs bracing her against the wall. Mitch's fingers were still moving slowly in and out. Gret's spasming vagina tried to hold on but the steady rhythm was frustrating. 

Then, slowly the fingers were pulled out. Gret gasped at her warmth spilling out. She pulled Mitch up from the floor and kissed her. Using her tongue, she tasted herself and duelled with the other tongue. Gret was horny and aroused by Mitch's dominating nature. She could feel her need rising again. 

She kicked off her pants and brought her hands to open Mitch's fly but she was spun round and pushed into the wall, her hands gripped behind her back. Gret could hear the tinkling of metal buckles, the sound of the bag zipper and the squeak of leather.  

Mitch kept one hand in the middle of Gret's back, keeping her in position and restraining her wrists. Then she moved in and pressed against Gret's back, forcing her body to bend. Mitch's left hand slid under the front of Gret's shirt and pinched her nipple. 

"No bra," Mitch said appreciatively, "you never wear a bra when you're with me." She squeezed Gret's breast and rolled the nipple. Nipping the back of her neck, she growled, "and you know what happens when you tease?" Mitch rubbed the dildo between Gret's ass cheeks. "It gets me hot," she whispered into her ear. Gret whimpered at the feel of the dildo caressing her butt. She was so wet that her juices dribbled down her legs. 

Mitch wiped at a trail with her finger and sucked it. "Mmmm," she hummed. Then, she leaned back and said to Gret, "Hook your fingers onto my belt and hold on. You're going to need it." 

Questing fingers fumbled for the metal rings on the belt. Mitch pulled Gret's hips away from the wall, causing her front to scrape against it. Gret's hands were locked behind her back, her body arched in position for Mitch. She jumped when she felt cold liquid smeared on her arsehole and a finger slowly rimming it. 

Oh my god, she's not she is … Gret moaned at the exquisite sensation, her legs spread further apart and her rosebud relaxed, letting the finger slip in. 

Mitch patiently played with the puckered opening, lubing it generously and working her fingers in. Gret's muskiness was still on her face, the aroma was stronger dried and driving Mitch to distraction. She needed to fuck Gret now. 

Gret started moaning louder and moving her ass back on the finger. Mitch looked down to see Gret's hamstrings tense in her half bent position. Pouring more lube on the phallus, Mitch started jacking it, spreading the slimy liquid and warming up the tool, and also hitting her clit with each downward motion. She pulled out her finger from Gret and replaced it with the cock. Positioning the head, she clasped Gret's hips and steadily pushed it in. She felt Gret tense for moment but when the dildo passed the inner ring, they both let out their bated breath.  

Gret’s eyes rolled up at the intense pleasure and she moaned, “Ungh, fuck.” 

Mitch leaned over Gret's back, resting in place and letting her feel the girth of the cock  but she kept her hips rocking slightly. She knew the pleasurable sensations could be easily heightened by the slightest movement. Mitch swayed her hips, rocking and lightly thrusting the dildo into the sensitive passage. Slowly, she increased her range of movement until she was plunging into Gret's ass in a long steady rhythm. 

Gret felt so full. The cock twisting and rubbing at her back entrance was making her dizzy. When Mitch's movements picked up power, Gret was panting and pushing back against her. She felt Mitch cup her breasts and play with her already turgid nipples. Then, Mitch changed her rhythm to short fast thrusts. Gret could hear her grunting in her ear, her breasts rubbing against Gret's sensitised back. One hand moved down to rub Gret's clit hard and she exploded. 

Mitch felt Gret shudder in her arms. She was so close herself that she kept pumping even as she felt the waves rush through Gret. Her cries joined Gret's as she hit her peak, her hips snapping spasmodically, driving the dildo into Gret recklessly. Hearing Mitch groan her release and feeling the increased thrusts sent Gret over the edge again. 

They fell to the floor still joined back to front. Mitch had one hand on Gret's breast and another still between her legs. She could feel the throbbing in Gret's cunt and her hand moved in to gather the abundant wetness. Bringing that hand to her mouth, Mitch licked Gret's essence from it. 

Gently, she pulled the dildo out and unsnapped it from the harness. Gret reached up to cup her head. Turning, she brought their lips together in slow, open mouthed kisses.  

Rolling on top of Mitch, she pulled both their shirts off. Admiring the sweaty muscles of Mitch's upper body, Gret grinned and taunted, "Is that all you got, butch?"

The End

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