The characters from The Incredibles don't belong to me. They belong to Pixar Animation Studios (who in turn belong to the home of the Mouse, Walt Disney Pictures). Nor do I own the characters from Heroes, they belong to Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. I'm just borrowing them and muddling them up
Heroes/Incredibles: Heroines Part 5 - A Night to Remember (Ff,inc)
"Darlink, you look stressed," Edna Mode raised the china teacup to her lip and daintily sipped, looking through her oversized glasses at her friend Helen Parr.
The Milf raised her own teacup; it always astounded her how astute Edna could be. But then she had known Helen since she had been starting in the superhero business, so if anyone knew her Edna did. Sipping the tea Helen paused before answering, "A few issues with Vi."
Edna nodded sympathetically, "Are you getting enough?" she frowned as if she couldn't quite believe what she was about to say, "Or too much? Vi is young vith all the hormones racing..."
"It's not sex... that's good. It's just a couple of small problems," explained Helen.
Edna raised her eyebrows, "Vot problems, darlink? Tell Auntie Edna..."
Helen blushed, it seemed so silly to say there had been a few arguments, but she and Vi hardly ever argued, so it worried her, "She's been a bit temperamental about being driven to and from school the last couple of weeks."
"Aacht, darlink you still haven't told Violet about Mirage," there was a slight scold in Edna's voice, not much, but enough to make Helen grimace. The other woman did have a point, thought Helen, Mirage had almost certainly fled to Brazil after she'd escaped from jail. But there was a small risk that she had stuck around for revenge and Vi did deserve to know why Helen wasn't letting her take the bus to school. On the other hand, Vi could be a worrier, and if Helen mentioned that the witch who'd help killed Mr Incredible was on loose she could imagine Vi wouldn't cope well.
"Not, yet," conceded Helen.
"Vot a tangled veb ve veave vhen ve practice to deceive," scolded Edna pleasantly. She raised her teacup again and took another sip.
Helen shifted uncomfortably as Edna's owl like eyes seem to burrow into her; the older woman knew Helen too well, that was the problem. Carefully Helen chose her words, "I'm not exactly deceiving..." she said.
Putting her cup down Edna pressed her fingers together in a triangle, her eyes, magnified by her glasses, were penetrating. If Edna had a superpower, which luckily she didn't, it would be connected to her gaze. She waited for Helen to shift uncomfortably before speaking again, "Darlink, do you vant my opinion?" she continued without waiting for an answer, "You have Violet as a lover and you let her take charge. It's vot you both vant, but you cannot go back to being Mom and daughter and you being the boss. It doesn't vork darlink."
Helen nodded. She hated Edna being right, but she was and there was no escaping it. The path had been set that night she had let Vi into her bed. The only way it could be changed was to break up with Vi; and that was something that Helen couldn't do. There was nothing for it, but to tell Vi the woman who killed her Dad and brother had escaped. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but it had to be done, "I'll tell her."
Edna nodded. Her expression switched from that of a stern matron to a sympathetic aunt, "It is the vight thing darlink, vu vont regret it."
Helen was sure that she would, but that didn't mean that Edna wasn't right. She nodded and tried to smile confidently, ignoring the churning nervous feelings in her stomach and legs, "I just have to do it at the right time."
Now Helen had made the decision Edna was all smiles and solicitous attention, "Of course darlink," she paused, "I hear that band that Vi likes... Blue Dye?"
"Dying Purple," Helen smiled as she corrected Edna's mistake, whilst still being impressed that she had come so close to remembering the lesbian girl guitarists Vi was currently raving about.
"Dying Purple... that's it. I hear they are playing at Lucy's on Friday," Edna smiled, impressing Helen more that she kept on touch with these things, but then Edna had always liked to keep in touch with the private lives of her superheroes and it was no different now she had been retired, "I vill take Jack-Jack, vu vill take young Violet, spoil her, book a hotel for the night, allow her to make sweet and heavy love to vu. It vill help ven vu tell her. Anyvay vu don't spend enough time together, it vill be good to spend a night not need to worry about school in the morning or Jack-Jack."
Helen nodded. It sounded like a good plan.
* * *
"Sit," ordered Elle. She paused for a few seconds, then said, "Stand."
Chastity Church did as she was told. She stood totally still, her face emotionless and her eyes unblinking, the only sign she wasn't a mannequin the gentle move of her diaphragm as she slowly breathed. Even Elle sliding her finger under the teen cheerleader's skirt and into her pantyless pussy got no reaction. Elle pulled out her finger and gave it a quick suck, more from habit than because the cheerleader had juiced up. She took a step back, "Lift your skirt and do a happy dance."
A smile broke onto the cheerleader's face as she pulled up her skirt and began to do some weird sort of rhythmic jigging, which Elle decided must be the happy dance in this Godforsaken town.
"Stop playing with her," Mirage entered the room, frowning at Elle.
"I'm not," replied Elle, quickly slipping the bracelet from her wrist. It was such an obvious lie that even Elle, who could normally tell untruths with a fluency which marked her out as a candidate for high political office, blushed and then shrugged, "I was just testing it still worked."
"You think it might have broken down since you tried it this morning?" Mirage asked dryly.
"I told you I was just getting her to scratch at itch I couldn't reach," replied Elle.
"With her tongue? And just how deep up your ass was this itch?" Mirage smiled, then she shrugged, "Doesn't matter. I've just been checking our e-mails. We've got one from the boss."
"Oh, what does she want?" Elle's interest was peaked. They hadn't heard from their mistress for a couple of days, allowing them plenty of time to play with the cheerleader, gradually removing her freewill so that she became a mindless automaton for Elle to play with. And Elle had been playing with her, especially games like find the strap-on (usually to be found up Chastity's ass) and hide and seek (with Elle's strap-on usually hidden up Chastity's ass).
"She wanted to see how the cheerleader was coming along..." replied Mirage.
"What did you tell her?" asked Elle, a grimace crossing her face.
"The truth, she's totally under control," said Mirage. To prove her point she picked the bracelet from coffee table and slid it on her wrist, "Chastity - sit down, spread your legs and play with your pussy."
The teenager cheerleader did as she was told. She lifted her skirt up again, as she sat and slid a couple of fingers into her smooth snatch. Elle and Mirage looked as the young black girl began to work herself. Her digits began to move back and forth, slowly and then increasingly quickly. Moans escaped the cheerleader's lips, harsh, primeval cries of pleasure. Her hand moved faster; a splashing, squelching noise came from the teen pussy as Chastity drove her fingers through liquid and into the soft flesh surrounding her clit. Girl juice leaked out staining the chair.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her back arched as she came, "Aaaarrggghhh....."
"That's enough," ordered Mirage, aware that the cheerleader would otherwise continue to play with herself until she was literally raw. Mirage turned to Elle, "The Mistress wants me to drive her up to see someone in New York. You can look after yourself?"
Elle tried not to be insulted at either the question or why she hadn't been chosen to take Chastity. Instead she said, "I'm sure I can cope without you. There's a band playing I wouldn't mind catching."
"What band?" asked Mirage, though it was obvious she wasn't interested.
* * *
"Claire... wait up," Jackie Wilcox elbowed a small child out of the way, sending her face-first into a locker with a thump. The head cheerleader looked at her, with a scowl, as if it was the child's fault she had connected with Jackie. Faced with an obviously annoyed Jackie the girl apologised, continuing to say sorry even as Jackie had forgotten her and was sliding her arm through Claire's in a gesture of cheerleader solidarity, "Hi Claire."
"Jacks," Claire smiled back. Jackie always looked good, but she looked even more heavenly today with her golden hair glinting under the corridor's cheap lighting and her lipstick just a touch away from detention by a randy history teacher. And the perfume her friend was wearing was delectable, it seemed to promise romantic evenings under desert skies and secret liaisons with well hung sheikhs. Unfortunately it didn't promise what Claire would have wanted, which were sweaty evenings under Texan skies and a secret liaison with your cheerleading squad number two, "Ready for Friday night?"
Even if Claire couldn't see any chance that she and Jackie were going to dance the naked tango, that didn't mean they couldn't go clubbing together. Okay, it made Claire a bit jealous to see Jackie making out with some college stud, and she wasn't keen if she had to make out with their best friend, which often happened. But on the plus point she and Jackie would sometimes dance so close that there bodies touched and collided and rubbed. It was well worth the cover charge and the cost of a fake ID. And they seldom had to pay for drinks...
Jackie pulled a face, it was a face Claire had seen before, even if few others had. It was Jackie's apology face, "Sorry Claire. That's what I was meaning to tell you. I've got to go out for the weekend, you know big crisis, end of the world type thing."
"Oh, okay," Claire's face creased in disappointment, she'd tried to shake her head, hoping it wasn't too obvious that her expression was caused by more that not having a friend's company on a Friday, "I'm sure I can find something else to do."
Jackie smiled and patted her friend's arm so tenderly that if Claire hadn't seen the cheerleader captain make out with half the town's eligible bachelors, that Claire might have thought she had a chance, "Sorry Claire, you know I'd go clubbing if I could. We'll do it next week?"
"Sure," Claire forced a smile. It wouldn't do to let Jackie know it was a big deal, if her friend knew how much Claire wanted it, she might start to ask why and well, the more she dug into Claire's feeling the uglier it could get; somehow Claire didn't think that Jackie was a liberal when it came to girls loving girls. She decided it was best to change the subject, "You think Chastity will come to practice tonight, she's been low profile."
"No-profile," corrected Jackie, "I rang her house, nadda, zip, she's totally incommunicado... I think she may have got herself in the family way. I always told her she should get herself some condoms."
"Does that mean...?" Claire spoke and faltered.
"That you're on top of the pyramid still... well you're my best friend so work it out for yourself," Jackie grinned and stopped by Claire's locker, "Look and I really am sorry about Friday, I'll make it up to you."
"Not a problem," lied Claire as she opened her locker to get her textbooks for the next class, "I'm sure I'll find something to do."
As she turned to face back to face Jackie her eyes were drawn to a cheap poster on the wall opposite; it seemed Dying Purple were playing in the neighbouring town. Claire wouldn't ever tell, but she loved Dying Purple - not their music, which seemed to her to be worse than listening to cats being methodically strangled and dumped in metal bins, but the fact they were out and proud lesbians and the club they were playing in had a strict no men allowed policy. She grinned at her friend, "I might even go to a gig."
* * *
The woman stared at Vi and Helen strangely, as if she'd never seen a teen dating a Milf. It was only for a brief second, but it was long enough for Helen's hand to drop down to feel her daughter's butt. The teller inwardly shrugged, the bouncer at the door had decided that the teen was over eighteen, the rest was not the tellers business, even if she thought the older woman, attractive though she was, stood out like Barry Manilow playing the drums for Metallica. She took another chew of her gum and stamped onto the backs of Vi and Helen's hands.
The club was crowded and Dying Purple weren't even due on stage for another hour. Shrieks of enjoyment, the shouted babble of conversation and the collision between high heeled boots and the ground competed with the loud booming of music as the DJ hammered out track after track. The smell of perfume wasn't yet crowded out by the smell of sweat, but as the place got busier and the dancers more energetic perspiration would combine with stale alcohol and tobacco to create the distinct aroma of crowded clubs.
The average age of the clientele of the club had about four or five years on Vi, which meant they were nearly twenty years younger than Helen. Even with tighter than normal jeans and a tight denim jacket bought specially Helen was a Mom not a rock chick and it showed. Vi fitted in; her dark hair, luxuriously long hair brought more than one envious glance and her Dying Purple T-shirt looked lived in, not bought minutes before from an overpriced tout outside.
"You want to dance?" Vi leant forward and shouted in her Mom's ear.
Helen blushed, it was a long time since she'd been clubbing and she wasn't sure she still had the moves. She looked around at the women gyrating and rubbing against each other; sleek nubile bodies grinding and touching. She nodded, she could manage that. She nodded and yelled back, "Yes, why not."
Vi took her Mom's hand and pulled her out onto the floor. It was even more crowded, the dancers moving so close together that there was no choice but for couples to dance intertwined. The smell of sensuality was overwhelming, as all around women touched, pawed and made-out; first lovers intertwined in their timeless passion and more worldly lovers for whom the touch was a fleeting, but exciting moment in time.
Vi was moving close to Helen, her hands wrapped round her Mom's ass pulling her closer. Helen allowed herself to fall into Vi. She slightly increased the size of her chest, stretching her bosoms just a cup size or two higher so that they bounced underneath her T-shirt as she moved. Vi seemed to appreciate the extension, she shouted something which Helen couldn't quiet hear and tweaked at her Mom's ass through the Milf's tight jeans. Helen purred passionately at Vi's wandering hands, they squeezed at her and touched her, promising things to come. Vi smiled, it seemed like their problems forgotten, and moved her leg up the inside of Helen's calf. Slowly the teen moved it higher, so that she was wobbling precariously and rubbing the inside of her Mom's thigh with her knee. It was only because the crowd was pushing so close the two women could hardly move and that her hands were still clamped to Helen's ass that stopped the teen toppling on her back. Helen growled appreciatively again, she bent her own knees and lowered herself so that her cunt was sliding over her daughter's knee. Vi pushed a little higher, pushing the denim of Helen's jeans into her panties and the cotton of them into the wettening slit.
"Mmnnnn," moaned the Milf appreciatively and lowered her lips, opening them so her daughter could claim her reward. Vi opened her mouth in return, letting her Mom's tongue enter her. The two of them swayed and sucked as their tongues battered against each other. Vi's hands were scraping at the back of Helen's jeans, the fingers beneath the denim and under her Mom's panties to touch the flesh beneath. Helen in turn had her hands up and under her daughter's T-shirt, running her hand over the teen's back, feeling the hardness of her spine beneath her fingers.
The two of them continued to kiss passionately, taking no notice of the other women in the club, many of whom were using the time before the band to do exactly the same. Eventually they broke. Vi cupped her hand and shouted through it in an attempt to beat the pounding beat of music, "Want a drink?"
Helen nodded, her mouth was dry despite the saliva she had just exchanged. She let Vi take her hand and lead her to the bar. It was a bit quieter, loud talking not yelling level, which meant when Helen turned to Vi she was able to say, rather than shout, "Isn't that the girl from your school?"
* * *
"Want a drink?" the blonde in her early twenties gave Claire Bennet a dazzlingly attractive smile as she took the spare seat at the table
"I've already..." Claire began to hold up her glass, half-fill with rum and coke. The blonde grinned and arched her eyebrows, before pointedly looking at the cheerleader's chest and the bosom straining against the blouse. Claire blushed, of course the woman wasn't asking for a drink to be polite. The cheerleader had took a deep breath, if she agreed to have a drink, it didn't mean she'd have to go any further - a drink could just be a drink, even in a club filled with attractive lesbians. At the same time, well, it made it more likely that she would kiss a girl and if she did, she hoped like Kate Perry, she would like it, "A rum and coke, would be nice."
The blonde grinned and snapped her fingers at a waitress. The waitress came over, taking the order with ill-grace as the blonde said, "Two run and cokes, easy on the coke."
The blonde turned back to Claire, "First time?"
"In this club? Or first time seeing Dying Purple?" Claire pushed away her unfinished rum and coke, it seemed rude to drink it whilst waiting for her bought drink.
"Either... both," the blonde smiled back. She had the most attractive face, framed perfectly by her long blonde hair. Her body wasn't bad either, though the oversized bracelet she was wearing didn't really fit with her more stylish T-shirt and jeans.
"Both," laughed Claire, "I told my Mom I was out with friends and I told my friends Mom was dragging me to see some classical gig in Dallas. What about you?"
The blonde grinned, sliding her hand across the table to rest her fingers on top of Claire's hand, moving her tips between the gaps of the knuckles, "Oh, I told my friends I was going out to pick up some hottie..."
Claire blushed, the woman was a bit straight forward. That was good, because Claire would have spent the entire night dropping vague hints or being so enigmatic about what she wanted that she'd have left both her and the blonde confused. But at the same time it meant that Claire couldn't pretend later that she'd misinterpreted woman's attention. If she wanted to stop anything happening, she'd have to stop it now.
The waitress arrived and slammed the drinks on the table. She waited, her expression a mixture of surliness and boredom, as the blonde pulled out a ten-dollar note. The expression changed to pure surliness as the blonde didn't dismiss her without waiting for her change. She didn't get a tip. Claire raised her glass to her lips, despite what the blonde had asked for the waitress hadn't gone easy on the coke, indeed there was so much in it you could barely taste the rum. The blonde grimaced as she sipped her own drink, "Fuck, that's gross tasting. I'm Elle. You want to dance?"
The bracelet seemed to shimmer in the light. Claire looked down at her drink and then up again at the blonde. She held out her hand, "I'd love to."
* * *
"Thank you and goodnight," the lead singer of Dying Purple raised an arm in a salute which was probably supposed to be reminiscent of the Romans, but was actually more like something from thirties Germany. The crowd either didn't notice or if they did they didn't mind. Two hundred woman stamped their feet, clapped their hands and shouted for more.
But Dying Purple had already done two encores and their repertoire was exhausted. The crowds cheering slowly petered out, being killed completely when the club's sound system began to belt out records spun by the DJ. Vi took her Mom's hand, they'd been going through a rocky patch recently, where the sex was good, but not always enough. Tonight had reminded her why she was fucking the Milf, not only was her Mom great looking and a slut in the bedroom (and other rooms), but she could also be pretty cool, such as buying tickets for Vi's favourite band. Vi squeezed Helen's hand, standing on toes to kiss the Milf. She slid her tongue round Helen's mouth, before pulling out. She grinned, "Thanks for tonight."
Helen gave a pleased looking smile, "Enjoy it?"
"Mmmnn, yes," grinned Vi, "Especially the dirty dancing."
Helen giggled as Vi's hand moved to her butt and moved over it in a repeat of its earlier movements. The teenager's own mouth slowly moved into a wide grin as she looked up and down her lover's body, taking in the long legs encased in tight denim and the toned stomach and large tits squeezed into an equally tight top, "You fancy heading home for an early night?" asked Vi, though by the time they got back it wouldn't be so early.
Helen reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a hotel key. She had told Vi she was parking whilst the teen had queued up outside the club, instead she'd used the time to book into the hotel and deposit a secretly packed night-bag. She whirled the key round her finger and looked lustfully at her daughter, "We don't have to heard home for an early night..."
Vi bit her lip, as if she thought she should be cross with her Mom for spending so much money on a hotel room, but was secretly pleased at the thoughtfulness, "You shouldn't waste so much money..." she said, but the smile that crossed her mouth gave lie to the scold, "but as you have..."
Helen gave a little squeak as her daughter's fingers pinched both hard and seductively at her ass. The teen's arm slid round the Milf's waist and led her through the club and out through the back entrance. The outside was still crowded as women milled around, smoking, chatting, making out. Vi guided her Mom past them and down the street.
In a side alley, they could see a blonde leaning against the wall, as another blonde knelt in front of her. The one standing was groaning passionately, as the other lapped away. Helen nudged her daughter and gestured with her head at the couple in the darkness, "It's lucky I got the room."
Vi giggled, "You are such a dirty thinking slut."
* * *
It was lucky that Claire didn't think much of Dying Purple's music, because she'd heard hardly any of it. Indeed about the only noise Claire had been conscious of during much of the set was the beating of Elle's heart as she touched her, the rustle of the older blondes clothes as she moved against the cheerleader and the slurping as their tongues passionately explored the open mouths. On stage Claire was dimly aware that the drummer was tossing a stick into the audience and the singer was removing a sweaty T-shirt to send flying into the crowd. Normally she'd have blushed and tried not to avert her eyes at the sight of two bosoms bouncing. However as Elle's tongue was currently trying to touch her tonsils and as the twenty-something's hand was, at the same time, under the cheerleaders top and heading upwards, well Claire had other things she was interested in.
She briefly pulled her head back, panting, and licked a tiny bit of saliva away from her lip. Elle's eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at the cheerleader, an expression at once sardonic and sultry on her face, "Taking a break for air?"
"Yeah, it was getting a bit hot," Claire tried to move her hands in a fanning gesture, but she had managed to get herself pushed against the back wall and somehow pin them both behind her back. It was slightly embarrassing that she had managed to get herself in this position and she wondered if her subconscious was trying to tell her that cheerleaders didn't make out with other women in dyke clubs. If so, well her subconscious could go to hell.
"Hot's one way to describe it," grinned Elle and Claire blushed as she realised that the word didn't only describe the temperature. The twenty-something laughed as she saw Claire displeasure, but it wasn't a cruel cackle, more how a parent would laugh at the discomfort of a small child confused by a new toy. Elle moved her hand from under Claire's T-shirt and pushed away a strand of hair that was sticking to the cheerleader's brow, "Tell you what cutie, that's about it from Dying Purple; let's head from some fresh air before we crushed in the rush."
The air was cooler outside, though as it was the middle of a city perhaps not fresher, with the smell of sweat simply being replaced by exhaust fumes. The bouncer nodded a farewell as they passed and a T-shirt vendor shouted out a couple of prices. Claire ignored them both, instead her arm slipped further round Elle's waist. The older blonde's gave a light laugh and let her own hand drop onto the cheerleader's butt. Claire almost collapsed as she felt her legs go weak, though whether from lust or terror she couldn't decide; it was, she decided, probably a combination of both.
A little way along was a small alley, the lights from the main street hardly penetrating into its darkness. Elle stopped; the hand resting on Claire's butt tensed and then squeezed. Claire gave a squeak and looked up into Elle's face. The blonde was smiling down at her. Elle lowered her head and kissed the tip of Claire's nose, "You horny?"
There was a tingle which was spreading through Claire's body, creeping over her like Ivy. She had felt it before, often as she read her porn mags or secretly watched the dirty movies, which her brother kept stashed under his bed. And each time she had either ignored with it or self-medicated. She looked up at Elle, the older blonde was still smiling, her hand moving lightly, but sensually over Claire's ass. If Claire said she was horny, well it was a thin narrow bridge that was crossed, beneath that bridge the water looked stormy and cold, but the other side was filled with sunny meadows and beautiful butterflies. Claire was aware her voice was so dry she sounded as sultry as Marlene Dietrich, "I'm horny, I'm so horny I could burst..."
"MMmmnnn, you look horny, horny enough to suck pussy, I bet " Elle grinned, as she gently guided Claire into the alleyway.
Claire nodded, before blushing, "I've never licked anyone out before," she admitted.
Elle laughed and leant against a wall. Her arms reached up and she gently set her hands on Claire's shoulders, "It's as easy as falling off a log..."
It was a clich‚, Claire thought, but she hoped it was true. She could feel Elle putting just enough pressure on her shoulders to persuade rather than push. The blonde teen bent her legs and crouched down. Luckily the alley was clean, if not enough to eat off, at least enough to eat rug in. Nervously Claire reached up to Elle's jean buttons, even in the darkness she could see the shake of her hands and it took her much longer than it theoretically should to undo the buttons and lift aside the denim flaps All the time Elle made light groaning noises and massaged Claire's shoulders, the older blondes long, slender fingers playing with the blades through the teen's skin. Claire gulped as she looked at the white panties, suddenly exposed to her glare. Elle moaned again, "Pull them down cutie, stick your tongue in."
It wasn't much of an instruction, but it acted as a spur for the cheerleader, allowing her to pretend she was doing this because she was being told to, rather than because it was what she wanted. She dropped the jeans and then pulled down the panties. In neither case did she take them down far, but in both cases she lowered enough that there was room for her face in Elle's pussy. The blonde's cunt was tight and shaven; Claire was glad to discover that the twat looked as alluring as they did in the pictures - it would have been a disappointment if her first twat hadn't been porn star standard.
"Go on baby," Elle gripped harder at Claire, "Eat me."
Claire pushed her face forward. Her tongue touched twat. Elle quivered, "Oooohh, that's it."
Claire stuck her tongue out a little further. This time she pushed it between the lips and into the hole. The taste of pussy juice fizzed on her tongue; it wasn't unpleasant, slightly bitter with a tang of aniseed. The blonde cheerleader slid in a bit deeper, the hole was warm and moist; the walls soft seeming to retract and expand like jelly as she ran her tongue over them. And the more she touched and ran her tongue round the hole, the wetter Elle got. Girl cum dripped down Claire's throat, the more she tasted the more she liked it.
"Ooohhh, lick me baby, take me like a slut," groaned Elle. She was scratching her back against the wall, quivering like an arrow which had just hit its target. Her hands were still gripping at Claire's shoulder, squeezing the teen and encouraging her to continue, "Go cutie, go in deep, baby."
Claire continued to explore, pushing her tongue deeper and deeper, flicking it around, touching, pushing, prodding. Elle groaned and gasped, her moans loud and the cries echoing from the alley into the street. From the corner of her eye Claire could see that the gig must have finished as Dying Purple fans exited the club. It was obvious what Claire was doing and a few stopped to giggle and point, or take photos on their phones. Claire didn't care, all she cared about was the tasty twat in front of her and lapping Elle to orgasm after orgasm.
Suddenly the cheerleader stopped her munching. Standing and giggling at the end of the alley were Vi and her Mom, the teen nipping the older woman's butt and saying something. Helen laughed and nodded towards Claire and Elle. Claire felt her stomach flip like an acrobat; Vi knew her, she could tell everyone how Claire had got her kicks on Friday evening. Elle grunted in irritation at the pause and moved her hands from Claire's shoulders to her head, pushing her deeper in. Claire decided that burrowing her face deep in the twenty-something's cunt was a good idea; the further she was in the less likely Vi was to notice it was her, at least that was the theory.
Luckily Vi and Helen had other things to do. After a few moments giggling and rubbing each other, they left. Claire relaxed and let her tongue go deeper into Elle.
"Mmmnn, that's better," moaned the twenty-something blonde, "I thought you'd fallen asleep down their."
Claire pushed harder and licked faster, she didn't want Elle ran deeper; a giggle which turned into a squeal as Claire hit the special spot. The cheerleader ran her tongue back and forth over the hard skin of the clit. It made Elle go wild, her ass pogoed against the wall like a child on a trampoline as her body shook and quivered. The squeals of lust got louder and more high pitched, drowning out the distant sound of traffic and the rustle of denim against flesh. There was a larger scream from Elle and she shoved Claire so far forward that if Elle had a large pussy the cheerleader would have gone headfirst into it.
"Aaaarrrghhh," screamed Elle, "I'm cuuuummmiiinnggg."
Juice had been trickling into Claire's mouth. With little warning it became a torrent, flooding the cheerleader and gushing over her, before dripping down to land in pools beneath her.
Elle stepped away and did up her jeans, as Claire wiped the excess cum from her face and clothes. Elle straightened her hair and turned back to face the cheerleader; she looked as fresh as if she'd just stepped out of a shower, much better than Claire looked with her hair bedraggled and her lipstick smudged with girl cum.
"Will I see you again?" asked Claire.
Elle winked, "We'll see..."
_ _ _
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