The Faces of Alice: Part Three

Alice woke up disoriented, hand clawing for her glasses. Her vision blurred and sharpened like a bad camera. The ache in her head kept pulling her under. Then something else did. Something stronger. Her feet hit the floor before her mind caught up. One Alice was still in bed, but another—Al—was already claiming the body. Al walked straighter, smiled slower. All the nervous flutters Alice usually had were gone. Christy stepped out of her room and stopped short. "Hey. You okay?" Al didn’t answer. She crossed the hall and pushed Christy against the wall, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I want my fingers inside you until you soak these pretty panties." Christy’s breath hitched. Her knees nearly gave. Al didn’t wait. She kissed her hard and let the kiss answer every question. The bulge against Christy’s hip was unmistakable. "Packing?" Christy gasped. "Purple. Double-ended. One side’s already inside me." Al shoved her hand down Christy’s waistband and pressed two fingers over cotton. "Take your clothes off. I want your cunt on my tongue." Christy stripped and lay back. Al went down without preamble. One slick stroke across her clit, then the press of fingers hooking up and forward. Christy’s thighs jerked. Al sealed her mouth around the swelling clit and pumped steady, coaxing, coaxing, until Christy moaned and burst wet against her wrist. Al smiled into the flood and kept working her. Christy trembled, legs wide. When she came again Al did not let her down easy; she kept licking, tasting every shake, every fresh spurt, until Christy’s voice cracked. Only when Christy lay spent did Al finally pull back. She disappeared into the bathroom still wet and throbbing and lost her grip on the body. A new voice slipped in. Alicia blinked in the mirror. Pink gloss, hair brushed, robe cinched to show the line of her waist. She walked back out. Christy was still breathing hard on the couch. Alicia took the strap, held Christy’s gaze, and climbed into her lap with deliberate grace. "Put it inside me. I want you to feel how tight I am." Christy obeyed. The shaft slid home. Alicia rode slow at first, hips circling, back arched, making sure every downward stroke dragged across Christy’s pubic bone. Wet sounds filled the room. Alicia leaned forward, hair brushing Christy’s face, and whispered, "Harder. Take me from behind." She turned, offered her ass, and Christy gripped her hips and drove in. Each thrust bottomed against Alicia’s cervix; she whimpered but stayed upright, soaking the length. Christy’s breath quickened, her thrusts grew erratic, and then she cried out as Alicia milked her through a long, rolling orgasm. Alicia slid off only to drop between Christy’s thighs and take the final squirt across her tongue, licking Christy clean. When she rose again, the light in her eyes shifted. Alice was back, small and trembling, eyes wet. Christy reached for her. Neither of them knew what normal looked like now.