Summary: Yuri, Lemon, Candice/Cynthia/Dawn, Dawn/Cheryl. It was a silent night in the empty lodge in the middle of Route 216, and they unknowingly start to 'heat' things up, unknowingly watched by a poor, unsuspecting observer.
~※※※※~
White, it was all Cynthia could see. A whirling, ferocious and rippling white of a howling, merciless blizzard that was common in northern Sinnoh. All in all, the people of Snowpoint were tough and strong people, living in such ferocities of nature and also being sailors, and their Gym Leader, Candice, who was currently trekking through the snow with her, was no different, though possibly even more so.
"There should be a lodge for travelling trainers somewhere nearby, shouldn't there?" Cynthia half-shrieked over the screaming blizzard.
Candice gave a simple nod as a response; she knew to conserve her energy in the wilderness of the north. Anything and everything had a possibility of happening, and they humans couldn't do shit about it. Only Pokémon, who were one with their respective elements, had the slim possibility of rescuing them from the twitches of nature. With this in mind, however, Candice plowed on even harder, years of navigating through the northern routes guiding her with an impeccable sense of direction through the storm. Cynthia, with complete trust in her focused, frigidly-determined companion, followed suit, her normally graceful movement hindered by her bulky snow-gear.
Silence fell upon them, and after what seemed like a timeless eternity passing by as they cut through the thick, carpeting snow, they soon saw a large, almost manor-like house made of bricks and wood, with all the windows dark, hollow and empty. Not a soul was inside—it was in the middle of the winter after all, and even the most skilled and experienced of trainers hesitated to come out into Route 216 during the coldest season of the year.
A minute later, when they were almost to the sheltering porch, Cynthia felt like screaming in frustration in a very uncharacteristic way. Her patience was almost at its end. She was stuck in a small crevice that had been covered over by the harsh snow yet again, and this time, she felt that even her Garchomp wasn't going to bother to come out and fish her out or even half-roast her out with a Flamethrower, that grouchy old dragon.
"Candice?" she called.
A bland "Yeah?" was her response. Candice was always somewhat cold and stoic when she was travelling in the snow. In some ways, it fit her perfectly as a specialist of Ice-types, but it always contrasted against her normally cheerful personality. If Cynthia had to pick her favorite, it would be the frigid and stoic young woman, if only if it had her extremely aroused.
"I think I'm stuck again."
There was a sigh, and Candice trudged back to her expertly with just a few steps, and stepped experimentally with the ground beneath her. Once her left foot swept down unexpectedly, she gained her balance and asked Cynthia if she felt solid ground beneath her, or, at least thought there was. At her affirmative, the dark-haired young woman steadily lifted the Champion out, and gestured over to the lodge with a grim expression. Cynthia almost sighed in delight, a fawning sigh that most definitely would've fit her ten years ago, but not as a young woman in the prime of her youth.
As soon as they stepped foot on the porch, which had been precisely cut out of giant slabs of stone melded together with concrete, they swept off their hoods and shook off the snow easily off their snow-gear. Sighing in relief, Candice stepped forwards and opened the thick, polished mahogany door. It was certainly warmer inside, though to the two young women, it was nearly a spa compared to the outside.
Their boots, their gloves, and most nearly everything except for their clothes went off as they slammed the door close and stepped onto the smooth, wooden floor, which was warming up rapidly courtesy of an automatic-system set up to heat up the villa-like lodge once even a single trainer and/or a Pokémon passed the threshold. Soon, Candice and Cynthia were shuddering in relief as they turned on the main heater in the wide living room. The lodge had over ten guest rooms, four bathrooms and three kitchens. It made sense to have so many high-class, state-of-the-art facilities, since the only trainers who came by were strong veterans who earned their place, unless there was an extremely rare stroke of luck and the blizzard paused for a while or so.
Sighing in cozy delight, Cynthia shrugged off her heavy backpack and rolled her slightly weary shoulders, since she hadn't had the chance to get out and travel for a while. Being the Champion didn't mean all battles and speeches. There was a full load of responsibilities and power you had over the training world—being Champion meant that you were the king of the training world of each region after all.
"Ha~, I think I'll crash on the couch for a bit…"
"Go ahead," yawned Candice, stretching as she took off her own backpack and her bulky snow-gear, "I was thinking of doing the same."
Cynthia had abandoned her flare of style due to the weather they had trekked in, and as she took off her own snow-gear, she wore a simple, long-sleeved sweater and black pants. She had also recently cut her hair for better comfort, and it only came to her back, which, in Candice's opinion, should've been done the first second she had tried to keep her ridiculously long hair.
They turned on the lamps softly, but left the lights off, since both of them preferred to be in an illuminated atmosphere to fit the silence of the muffled rage of the snowstorm outside. Dinner was taken casually, as a trainer from Snowpoint came only once a fortnight to restore the supplies, though once a week during the summer, which was when the lodge of was mostly used. Being in the middle of the winter, however, there was no one but Cynthia and Candice alone in the lodge.
The TV was blaring out some kind of a chat show, and the two were immediately heavily interested as Fantina, Bertha and Byron appeared as the oldest authority figures of Sinnoh. Candice snapped into fits of laughter as Fantina started to mock Byron in her heavy French accent, though everyone clearly understood what was being said and bellowed into laughter along with her.
Cynthia gave a wide smirk and dug into her bag for a change of clothes. She might never be on that show, anyway, since she had only been sixteen when she took her place as Champion, and was now twenty-one. Red of Kanto had maintained his position for over a decade and a half before he fully retired to Mt. Silver. Candice, surprisingly, had become a Gym Leader at the age of ten and had been keeping the position for nine years solid now.
"Hey, Candice, I'll take the first shower, OK?"
"Yeah, go ahead!" exclaimed Candice brightly, her cold demeanor gone in an instant. With a slight pout at the quick departure of her more favorite side of the young woman, Cynthia turned on her heel and stepped into the wide, faintly perfumed and luxurious bathroom. The lights flickered on smoothly, showing a warm bark-brown and a pearly white as the main theme. The four bathrooms all had different themes, she had found out on her last visit to the lodge, and frankly, Cynthia liked this one the best.
She turned to the mirror and stripped. It was a habit that had followed during her teenage days, when she had been rather self-conscious of herself, though people wouldn't expect someone like herself to have such vanity. It had only been at least two or three years ago when she had realized that she was some of the most fortunate of women.
But she had come to terms with herself a long time ago, during her journey, when she had realized that she was only attracted to the fairer sex. It wasn't the gorgeous men in the fashion magazines or on TV that caught her eyes; there was just the one and only person: Candice. They had travelled together for a long while here and there, and had even shared a few intimate moments together, though those were short-lived and awkward, and she had no way of knowing if Candice even saw her that way. Her life would've been perfect if it wasn't for that one bitter fact knowing that she was apart from the rest of society. She had been forced to keep secret the side of her that she knew would doom her to a life of an outcast.
Of course, if the media caught wind of this, most likely the whole world would be abuzz with murmurs about her. She was as much as a model for trainers as she was the leading role-model for them. If the news of her sexuality leaked, then there might be a mass scandal.
She trembled and shuddered, feeling her burnished blond hair tickle her back with soft, pleasant trickles, arousing her in every way possible. She thought of Candice that day, when they had tried some of the hot springs in Survival Area, the black, silky hair that she could've stroked, the flawless, lightly-tanned skin that she could barely restrain from suckling and licking, and the mere, overpowering presence of the Gym Leader, bare as the day she was born.
She licked her parched, dry lips, still slightly rough from the rough trek she had endured. The lust was too strong, too tempting and too damn persuading and so, ever so sinful that she couldn't help but shudder again, racking her entire frame.
Cynthia couldn't help it. She was now only down to her black tank top over her bra and her pearl-colored underwear. A straining, burning and roaring feeling pounded at her inner walls, and she heard her blood pumping furiously in her veins. Looking down faintly, she saw a growing patch of wet darkness form on the flat front of her panties.
She decided to hell with it right then and there, and reached under the elastic rim of the fabric and felt the sticky dampness and the lumps of the opening of her inner sanctuary. Biting her lips, she pushed down both hands and began to stroke up and down, going stronger as she went and feeling the roaring grow louder until it was nearly unbearable. Her knees felt weak, so she slumped down and pushed her fingers inside, pumping herself eagerly as the roaring steadily grew more and more unbearable at each passing second. With a relieving sigh and a wracking shudder, she let go, and felt a hot substance burst out, guided by her hands to the tiled floor of the shower, which she hadn't even turned on.
But it wasn't the end of it, as she continued pumping with more fingers to compensate for her other hand, which she brought up to massage her left breast over the bra. She gritted her teeth and fought back a high moan of ecstasy, but allowed one word to pass.
"C-Candice…"
And she imagined herself there, stripping the Ice-specialist as she lay on her bed of silk and licked and sucked and bit and kissed every inch of her amazing body, inhaling her addictive scent and pressing her lips against her soft, delicious ones…
A soft knocking against the door snapped her out of her fantasy, and set her heart beating apace in panic and anticipation.
"Cynthia, is everything alright? I didn't hear you turn on the water, so…"
"N-no, everything's fine," she answered. With an exhale of relief, she turned on the water high, although she had to bite back a hiss as icy-cold water sprayed at her half-naked body. Allowing the water to warm up, she took off her bra and underwear, and threw them into the pile that was her pants, sweater and tank top. The underwear, she thought solemnly, would have to be kept a deep secret, and the bras weren't any better off, as dark patches could be seen. Looking down, she gave an experimental fondle of one of her furiously erected nipples, feeling the spasm of pleasure and allowing some of her juices to flow freely. She'd always pretend that Candice, or some imaginary lover who shared her sexuality, was the one having her way with her as they pleased. It was always some kind of a sick, perverted pleasure that she felt whenever she fantasized about acceptance, about finding another like herself.
Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom carefully, her clothes thrown into a basket to dump into the washing machine later on, with only a wet, damp towel wrapped loosely around her, raised only by hanging onto her dynamic, but slim curves. Sitting back down on the couch, she sighed in content as she felt her hair dry rapidly in the gathering heat.
"So, had a good time in there?" asked Candice slyly, "You were pretty loud, though I can't say that it wasn't bad, and not your first time, too, is it?"
Cynthia froze for a second, blinking at her best friend, and then her cheeks burned furiously as though there was no tomorrow. With a choking cough, she turned away, her flushing beating panic into her nerves and weakening her will. Did she hear everything, then?
"I heard you say my name, you naughty, naughty girl, Cynthia…," Candice smirked mischievously, vivid brown eyes twinkling in amusement, and then they were misted with lust and a steel-hard determination and focus that she was famous for, "So, then, are you going to fuck me or not?"
"W-w-w-what?" squeaked Cynthia, jumping and trembling, excitement and hope coursing through her veins madly. If anything, her blush deepened, if it was possible at all. The towel became slightly loose, and the hem parted to reveal her barely-covered hips. But now that she looked carefully, Candice seemed to have showered too, her loose, silky-black hair swept to one side to reveal her soft, young features and tumbling down her shoulders in a way unique like Cynthia's. However, she wore such familiar clothes that Cynthia barely noticed the change at all.
"I said, you bad, naughty girl, are we going to have the fuck of our lives or not…?" whispered Candice huskily into her ear, as terribly blunt and straightforward as always. She was hovering above Cynthia now, one arm supporting her from Cynthia's bare thighs and the other loosening the towel, her head set next to the blonde's.
Something inside of Cynthia's mind snapped abruptly.
"Of course we are, Sherlock…," she murmured before dragging Candice close.
However, before she could, Candice had beaten her to it and pressed her against the sofa tightly, and smashed her lips into hers. Cynthia moaned and writhed in perverted pleasure as Candice took total dominance, her strength and desire overpowering hers completely to her shock and amazement. Anticipation filled her then, and she felt the burning sensation in-between her bare, smooth legs, which were rubbing together in soft friction.
Hands, strong, clever hands violated her entire being, massaging, pinching and exploring every nook and cranny. Her towel fell in a heap around her flared rear on the couch as she arched her back with a high moan as her breasts were taken in strong hands. Her mouth was dominated, and the rest of her body went along helplessly at the mere one fact that she now had the woman of her dreams. Candice's hands went everywhere, secret places, where heat and lust and mystery fused, regions unexplored by no man. Warm electricity crackled and danced through her body, enacting shudders and gasps and stretches and strains. The feeling of her muscles tensing and relaxing rapidly as she was pumped and ravished for all she was worth was almost unbearable.
An eternity passed by in a haze of ecstasy and arching pleasure. Cynthia wasn't exactly sure when it had happened, but suddenly she was the one violating Candice, like in her fantasies, self-projected fairy tales which she was sure would never happen so long as she lived. Their tongues fought furiously for dominance, their hips pressed against each other, openings kissing and shocking their senses. Candice's fingers raked across her pale back, and her own hands were gripping Candice so fiercely that she felt the Gym Leader squirm in slight discomfort beneath. She winced at the stinging sensation of the nails digging into her skin, but buckled her hips and earned a hard, blazing orgasm. She had lost count of how many they had crossed, but she figured that the entire sofa was ruined by now, and most possibly the rug beneath them as well.
"This is crazy," whispered Cynthia as she dipped her head to bite Candice's earlobe affectionately.
"We were always deranged, weren't we?" she answered in a distracted, blind voice, "You never stopped wearing black, and I always wore skirts and a jumper…"
"You almost died of hypothermia that time…"
"I'll never do it again, anyway, so don't worry so much."
"I thought we were crazy?"
"Point taken…"
Crackle...!
They halted in their respective movement immediately at the abrupt sound and looked up to find the source of the crackle, and blinked.
There stood a familiar girl, seventeen, with black hair tinted blue and in a simple white blouse and a dark, navy-blue miniskirt. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, with her fringe styled to slope to the sides above her left eye and her pale skin seemingly glowed ethereally in the dull lamplight. Her brilliant blue eyes glittered faintly, but were mostly wide with shock. In her hand was a crushed plastic bag with a bakery logo embossed on its transparent surface. Her heavy black headphones burst music into her ears, explaining her deafness to their session while she had been poring over the contents of her PokéDex upstairs.
Dawn, a young prodigy soon to inherit Rowan's lab in Sandgem, stood frozen in the living room in a stunned silence that hinted that she could not immediately believe what she was seeing, which would've been the normal reaction of any sane person.
"Cynthia…and Candice, right…?"
And as quick as she was to shake off her shock, one of her delicate eyebrows started twitching erratically as she rotated her head and hyperventilated silently into the darkness of the kitchen, one of her fragile-looking hands clamped over her unpleasantly twisting mouth and slanted eyebrows stressed.
"I…I didn't expect you guys to be, well, you know, together and all that…"
"Oh no, most people don't, really…mind joining us?" taunted Cynthia teasingly, relaxing her muscles as she lay atop Candice, who groaned in disappointment into the crook of her neck. If it was possible, Dawn's pallid skin whitened further, and she shook her head vigorously.
"Oh no, no, no, no, I'll just leave you two to your business, shall I? I didn't see anything this night, all I did was throw away my trash and went upstairs, and I leave first thing in the morning after a big breakfast."
"Sigh…Dawn, I'd thought you'd know by now that when I want something, I tend to get it very, very fast—"
"Blah-blah-blah, I don't hear anything, I wonder why the house is so empty and dark and creepy? You know what, universe; I think I'll retire to my room already!"
"I don't think you quite understand my words, yet, Dawn…," whispered Cynthia, behind the teenager in a flash, "You see, I can't really let you off without giving you a rather…traumatizing experience to make sure your lips are safely sealed, you know…"
Dawn's head rotated back to look her squarely in the eye, almost creaking as she did so.
"A-and what would that mean…?"
The Champion gave a grin that would've made the devil proud.
"Candice~, do you think you're up for a guest?" she sang mischievously. Candice sat up on the couch, running a hand through the roots of her dark hair and looking over calculatingly and then lustfully at Dawn's blessed, fully-developed figure with hooded, hazed eyes, and she grinded her knees together in a vain attempt to appease and hold back her hungry desires, at least for a few moments, before she could strip down Dawn to reveal her full, pale glory and forcefully press in pleasure along with Cynthia. It felt somewhat refreshing to be the villain for once and enjoy watching others try to defy their sinful sides, the twisted joy that came with going against your own nature.
"I suppose we can squeeze her in, then," Candice licked her lips in anticipation suggestively, "But hurry up, anyway, this stuff cools down fast, you know…" She trailed a finger over a part of the large, darkened splatter on the couch and brought it up to her mouth to taste it. Licking up the damp fabric in a craving for more of the substance, she watched as Dawn kicked and yelped in protest weakly as Cynthia slammed her against the wall and steadily slipped her out of her clothes, distracting the frantic girl with swift, accurate bursts of sexual pleasure.
"Hmm, you're a bad girl, you know that, Dawn? No bra, no panties, and you've been wet before you even came down, lusting for someone else, huh…oh, mind me, you're bisexual, aren't you?" The blouse and miniskirt dropped to the floor, leaving a shamelessly, equally stark naked Dawn in their wake. With an audible sound between a whimper and a moan, Dawn gasped only slightly as Cynthia reached her long, slender fingers into her opening. "Aha, now I see, it's not your first time is it? Wow, even more of a criminal than I thought you were, and we only had our first time today…who was it?"
Dawn flushed a furious crimson at Cynthia's sly deduction, even as she was carried over bridal style over to the couch, where Candice sat like a queen on her throne, smiling coyly.
"W-well, maybe if I'm pleased enough, you'll have the privilege of hearing the first name…"
Cynthia's tone had a hint of sarcasm and danger in it as she answered in a lower tone.
"Oh, believe me; that would be so easy it won't even be fair…like using my Garchomp to hunt down a Bidoof…"
Dawn shrugged her slender, sloping shoulders carelessly as she was laid down on top of Candice, whose hands crept up steadily up her abdomen. Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled with amusement and an arrogant flash of challenge, slightly mockingly, as though she was confident that she couldn't be pleased with the mere lust of two inexperienced, fellow young women who were both older than she was.
"Try me, then, there'll be no harm done in the end, anyways—a-ah!"
Her eyelids slid shut as Candice reached down with both hands and dug her fingers unexpectedly into her womanhood. Her back tensed and her narrow fingers dug into the couch beside Candice's warmth as the Ice-specialist stroked her inner walls, several earning high cries while few extracted pleasant, mocking moans. Taking the challenge, Cynthia climbed up and straddled Dawn before leaning down and feasting upon the smell and taste of her pale, reddening skin. The smell of crushed pine seemingly overwhelmed her senses, with cherries and a faint, dusty smell of libraries with worn, dog-eared books. Searching for a stronger scent, her lips and tongue explored roughly to the crook of her neck, where she suckled and bit and licked mercilessly. Her hands crept up and treated the well-developed breasts without pause.
No doubt, puberty had been extremely kind on Dawn, and on all of them. Here they were, three beauties, blessed by nature, having a threesome sex out of the power of coincidence. Grinning even wider at her luck, Cynthia ravaged the teenage beauty below her even harder, feeling Candice's hands pressed against her opening as well, and bit back a moan. However, as fogged and drunken with sex as she was, Cynthia's mind started thinking dirty and tricky, and formulated a plan to initiate a long, eventful night that would forever be burned into their memories. She ran her tongue over her neat, pearly white teeth, and left the two younger women to their business reluctantly, before kicking the contents out of their forgotten bags.
It would be one hell of a night to remember, after all.
~※~
Dawn whined softly as she woke up, snapping her eyes open and feeling the flood of memories from last night rush into her mind. Her nose didn't betray her, and proved her memories as solid and real. And later, so did her eyes, as she caught sight of the sleeping scene in front of her. Now that she thought about it, had Cynthia and Candice been drunk? She had seen a pair of glass bottles in the kitchen, and the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that they had been intoxicated.
Well, at least it explains why they were so…out of character, I guess, she thought bitterly, before sitting up on the warm, heated, polished wooden floor. And it might also explain why they were even making out in the first place, along with a hint of madness here and there. They surely weren't eying me five and a half years ago, but I was eleven that time, and I'm sure that those stares from the boys weren't for nothing… Yeah, and now everyone knows that I'm bisexual. Ugh, first with Riley, then Cheryl and now a threesome with Cynthia and Candice? At least I can't be considered a whore as I really did fall in love with Riley and Cheryl…still; Cheryl is the better lover in…well, nearly every way, huh…
Pushing out the thoughts of the verdant-haired young woman without even a hint of success, Dawn frowned harder as she tried to remember the exact details of the night before. Cynthia had gotten rather crafty and dirty, with countless Escape Ropes, and other items that she couldn't have imagined would've been used for such…graphic purposes, although she had to admit that it had been a shockingly amazing night that she'd rather not forget, though she still preferred time with Riley, and more importantly, Cheryl than anything. Cynthia and Candice could be drowned in their own love for each other without her.
Yeah, they had been drunk, and poor Dawn could only be swept helplessly into their mad plan as she was steadily infected by their deranged sides. She didn't ever remember being as daring and challenging before in her life.
At least her mother was OK with the fact that her only child and daughter was a lesbian. That was a big reliever, though Dawn was hardly sure that she wouldn't explode in fury if she ever caught wind of this.
"This…will never leave the walls of this bloody lodge," muttered Dawn as she searched for her clothes. But her hair was mussed with things she'd rather not mention, and her skin was sticky and layered with the same substance.
Scowling, she realized that she could leave dressing for later, after a warm, heavenly and cleansing shower. Seizing her skirt and blouse with the tips of her fingers, she headed in all her naked glory to the bathroom with the ice theme, though not before taking a peek out of the window, pushing apart the thick woolen curtains ever so slightly. She drew back and hissed at the sudden burst of coldness that stabbed at her bare, pallid skin like frigid knives. But to her relief, the blizzard from yesterday had settled into a calm and soft snowfall, though they were still huge clumps of snowflakes that would make a journey by foot extremely troublesome.
Not like she was lazy and indecent when she felt at home like Cynthia, but the lodge was toasty and cozy despite its huge size, and she was more comfortable in just her loosely-buttoned blouse and miniskirt without anything underneath. Besides, nothing showed, and if there was no one on their way, the only inhabitants were the three girls. So half an hour later, having taken her time in the steamy shower, she stumbled into her miniskirt before stepping out of the bathroom.
Just how long were they going to go on sleeping? Of course, they would be far more greener to such a lengthy 'session' as it was their first time, but they were trainers, meant to be at least decently athletic and strong, though if yesterday night counted as a 'normal' type of intercourse was a terribly moot point. The dull screaming of the hair dryer, however, brought them around, and Cynthia was the first to sit up. A few minutes later, when Candice was groaning for a few more minutes of dear, precious sleep, Dawn was tying her hair up in the same style again, her fringe bouncing back stubbornly back to the sloped style. She cleared her throat to catch their attention.
"Well, sorry to disappoint you girls, but I've had better nights with my lover…," she made extra care to not say 'lovers', smiling enigmatically, "so I'm going to have to leave you two sulking in depression and hate for me."
Cynthia shrugged, smiling blearily.
"I thought as much. You seem to be the hard one to please. You and Rowan are alike in that aspect. Kind and generous, yes, but both of you are extremely hard to gain respect and friendly familiarity from…"
"Hmm…I'll take that as a compliment for now, then. Anyway, I just want to say, you're pretty good with your hands."
With a modest smile, Cynthia blushed pleasantly and huffed, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. It was somewhat hard to relate the word self-conscious to her current image as she was completely bare in a dried puddle of the results of last night while still connected to her new lover, but there she was, looking away as her cheeks burned shyly. Maybe it might be possible for her to fall for Cynthia, too, Dawn thought distantly, but immediately dismissed that idea. The memory of both subtle and passionate nights with Cheryl soon dominated her thoughts, and she headed upstairs to her room to pack up.
Although she packed up her bags, it was obvious that she hadn't come with a single hint of snow-gear. Her bag was the same sports bag as ever, and she didn't even bother to change her clothes, though she did lock a belt, attached with six magnetic clasps all filled with miniaturized PokéBalls, around her miniskirt. Plucking a single PokéBall off, she enlarged it and tossed it lightly into the air.
"Ah, Dante," she greeted as the Gardevoir materialized in a burst of blinding light, "I need you to Teleport me back to Cheryl's house, please?"
With a bland nod at her trainer's question, Dante drew upon her powers and formed it into a swiftly charging Teleport.
In a zap, Dawn was sitting in a wooden, polished chair in Cheryl's living room in Eterna City. There was a pleasant, soothing humming coming from the bathroom, where she could hear the rush of falling, uneven water. Dear Cheryl was taking a shower. For a moment, Dawn considered intruding and taking sharing the water, but decided on a surprising greeting for the herbalist. Returning Dante, Dawn stood up and stood beside the door of the bathroom one the side with the silver hinges with her usual enigmatic smile.
A minute later, Cheryl, wrapped in a loose, snow-white bathrobe and her usually braided, deep-green hair loose and reaching her waist, stepped out along with a burst of steam. Sighing in content, the herbalist headed over to the kitchen to grab a bite, unaware of the effect she had on her silent visitor. She was like a goddess, with her exotic hair, her bright, emerald eyes and slightly tanned skin, the way how her bathrobe hung over her figure, which she usually modestly covered up with old-fashion clothes.
"Cheryl…"
With a small shriek of surprise, Cheryl whipped around in alarm, shoulder hunching in fright, before she caught sight of Dawn and relaxed, an eager smile adorning her angelic face. She rushed forwards, taking Dawn's face in her slender hands and without a word, slipping into a passionate, loving kiss that they hadn't shared in such a long time. They were both seventeen, yet they were much more intelligent and wiser than most, they had explored more than any other teenager of their ages had.
In each other's warm embrace, they told each other everything and anything about themselves, anything new that had happened, without a single lie or a tweak of truth, leaving nothing out, understanding each other, consulting with each other, all the while kissing and treating each other subtly. To them, it was what their love was all about. They basked in it and lived in it, never leaving each other's presence if they could help it.
When they were together, everything was right in the world, and that was all that mattered to them.
~※~
"Are you going to try and have Dawn?"
The question made Cynthia raise one of her delicate eyebrows. After Dawn had left, they had cleaned up the living room, and had moved to one of the many, large guestrooms, along with all their backpacks and belongings. The morning had passed, and a new snowstorm had whipped, even fiercer than last time, and hence, trapping both of them happily inside with the knowledge that no one would be sane enough to intrude in their time together.
Candice dipped her head down and took as much of her round, left breast as she could in her mouth and sucked powerfully, biting, nipping. Her hands trailed up her arching back, and the tightening Escape Ropes pressed their hips together tighter than ever so that their openings poured their juices into one another.
Loosening the smooth, complicated knot with the jerk of her feet, Candice buckled her hips, causing the Rare Bone that connected their inner sanctuaries to shift its angle inside of them. Spasms of bodily pleasure sparked though their nerves, overwhelming and powerful as yet another orgasm burst out, adding to the puddle on the warm floor and adding to the addicting scent of hot, stifling intercourse. A spurt of milky fluid burst from Cynthia's hardened, erected nipples, and she groaned as she slumped back down on the floor, sending a small wave over the puddle beneath her.
"If I can…," panted Cynthia, her chest heaving and causing her ample bust to wobble, "And her fellow lesbian lover at that…I want to snag both of them…"
"H-how do you…how do you know that it's a girl?"
"Hmm…well, it's not like Dawn to speak of a boy like that…and a girl is the only one who can earn such a reaction from her. A girl can also understand her better, knows where her weak points are, understands how her mind works, and can wrap a girl like Dawn in her little finger frighteningly easily…"
"Mmhmm…"
Candice dipped down again and tightened their hips together, earning a small gasp of surprise. Her hands were wholly focused on the two mounds of soft, tender and sensitive flesh, and her mouth dominated Cynthia's easily. Feeling the warm, blazing body beneath her writhe and snap into involuntary motions beneath her, Candice carried on relentlessly, until the Escape Ropes loosened ever so slightly, and she climbed off the Champion, crawling down until the blonde's hips were level with her head. The Rare Bone was thrown away to the corner of them room, wet and dripping.
"Do you think we understand each other?"
Cynthia let out an unrestrained cry of shock and physical delight as she felt the burning, squirming muscle inside of her, the rough lips circled around her parted, shadowed and wet opening. With a great shudder, she twitched and jerked to match the puppeteer-like control the tongue inside of her had.
"Aaaaaaaaaah—o-O-O-OOOOH…y-y-y-y-yesss…"
The Escape Ropes were attached to Cynthia's ankles and wrists, anchoring her to different parts of the rooms, but without Candice's help, she'd be helpless and trapped forever. Yet again, it was one of her perverted, dirty games, made to please nothing but her desires. One would expect the Champion to be a little more pure, although Candice and Dawn knew better now.
"…Ugh, holy cow, fuck me harder, please…ah~, yeah, like that…"
"I-I-it's going t-to b-b-b-be pretty h-h-hard d-doing a-a-a-a foursome…," stuttered Candice as the ropes that Cynthia had tied around her breasts squeezed at her buckling, thrusting movements. The same white substance spurted out, and she slumped down on Cynthia's heavily breathing chest, still buckling every now and then to treat her own breasts.
They both shuddered as a double orgasm exploded between their vaginas and joined the widening puddle.
Cynthia stifled a mischievous grin.
"Oh, we'll manage somehow…"
"Through the power of…perverse pleasure, I suppose?"
"Yeah and also with some new…tricks and tools."
"It's going to be crazy, you know."
"I think we already are, Candice…"
~※※※※~
Notes: Reviews, especially constructive ones, are appreciated.
- Amaterasu07
