Art For Art's Sake Read online

  ‘I may owe you a dance,’ said Angie. ‘But you’ll only be sorry when I’ve trampled your feet.’

  ‘It’s too late for protests. My mind’s made up. As soon as those slow songs start we’re on that floor.’

  And that was exactly how it happened. Angie hadn’t been joking about having two left feet but Sandra patently didn’t care. Perhaps two inches shorter, she immediately stepped into the “woman’s role” and immediately took control.

  Angie simply had to be impressed. Sandra had long legs so down there they were groin-to-groin, hip-to-hip. And the beautiful black girl was steering her, keeping her in the same small patch of floor and out of danger of collisions.

  Their upper body contact was great too. Sandra had very nice, medium-sized tits. The small height difference meant hers were sort of below but still against Angie’s. And her nips rivalled Angie’s when it came to hardness. When it came to hardness they must have had two of the most diamond-like pairs ever recorded.

  Then Sandra whispered her first husky sweet nothing into Angie’s ear.

  ‘I want to shag with you,’ she murmured.

  That wasn’t an easy one to answer. Although the music was slow it wasn’t very quiet and Angie might have misheard. She also had Ronnie to consider . . . Ronnie who most likely was fucking at that very moment . . . or being thoroughly fucked.

  And Sandra was supposedly straight. Every guy on the planet lusted after her. She’d had countless boyfriends and had admitted Richard had been in her knickers . . . more than once.

  But she was here and now, duck. And Angie owed her.

  Well, didn’t she?

  When Sandra inclined her face, their bodies still pressed cosily together . . .

  No red-blooded woman could have resisted.

  Angie kissed her.

  Bliss or what! Half a dozen pints of Guinness and Sandra’s mouth still tasted like nectar. Darting and very daring, her tongue fought duels with Angie’s. Diamond-like nipples rubbed just as diamond-like nipples. Without pausing for thought Angie’s hands gripped the world’s sexiest, most shapely ass.

  Sandra responded by moving her groin against Angie’s. It was a parody of tribbing yet near enough to start an adrenalin rush. Introducing Angie to tribbing had been one of Miss Pearce’s greatest gifts.

  Except Miss Pearce wasn’t there and Sandra was.

  ‘I want to shag with you,’ Sandra repeated. ‘I want to shag with you here and now.’

  Chapter Five

  At least an hour of slow dancing flew by. Angie knew their schoolmates must have copped them being more than merely friendly. They would be the talk of the sixth form on Monday but she honestly didn’t care. And Sandra very obviously cared even less.

  ‘I’ll walk you home,’ she said when the DJ announced that was it for the night.

  ‘Yours is nearer than mine,’ Angie countered practically. ‘So I’ll walk you home.’

  ‘Fair enough, but I still want to shag with you.’

  Sandra lived in one of the city’s more exclusive areas. Her relatively newly-built home was maybe ten minutes from Angie’s outlying village. So it made sense for the two of them to leave the party together but that did not stop a million knowing glances as they left hand-in-hand.

  ‘Your reputation is shot at,’ Angie said, as soon as they were out of hearing range.

  ‘I’m well-known as a whore. Me hitching up with you won’t surprise anyone.’

  ‘No way are you known as a whore.’

  ‘Richard’s not the only guy who’s been there, duck. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Well I’ve never heard a bad word about you. I’ve only ever heard positive things.’

  ‘Hopefully you’ll still be saying that after you’ve shagged me. Like tomorrow morning, when you get asked all about it.’

  Angie spluttered at that. Even knowing what Ronnie was most likely up to, she felt loyalty.

  ‘I don’t know if I can,’ she managed. ‘Not that I don’t want to,’ she added hastily. ‘It’s just that . . .’

  ‘You’re sort of attached,’ Sandra finished for her. ‘I appreciate that. I respect that.’

  ‘Okay, as long as that’s established.’

  ‘It is. But I still want to shag with you, and not at some far-off future date.’

  ‘There’s nowhere to go,’ said Angie, conveniently “forgetting” her home was mother and father-free for another couple of hours.

  ‘We can kiss though.’ Sandra stopped in her tracks, surprisingly strong, pulling Angie to face her.

  They were currently in more or less open countryside. If it had been July Angie could very easily have been dragged into a field and ravaged . . . or maybe she could have done some ravaging of her own. But it was February and a wet one at that, so fields were out.

  Admiring Sandra’s height and figure, convinced she had a thing about tall, athletic women, Angie only had to stoop slightly to reunite their lips.

  Bliss; kissing Sandra was bliss.

  Screw Ronnie. Concentrate on the present. Ronnie was off fucking around so what did a kiss matter?

  In the greater scheme of things a kiss didn’t matter one whit.

  So Angie went for it.

  And Sandra responded by grabbing her tits. Externally at first then, when Angie grunted her version of encouragement through her nose, she progressed.

  Suddenly Sandra’s hand was inside Angie’s sweatshirt. Then it was slowly sliding up her flat belly and onto her big unfettered breast before quite viciously squeezing it.

  Angie came instantly.

  Even more encouraged, Sandra squeezed her other breast.

  Angie came so hard she almost passed out.

  ‘Fuck me, yes,’ she gasped.

  ‘No,’ Sandra countered, her lips against Angie’s ear, her voice lower and huskier than ever. ‘You fuck me. Fuck me now.’

  Angie had never heard Sandra swear before but didn’t hesitate. The lovely black girl’s bare thigh was smooth as silk and ten times as sexy. Edging up into her leather skirt was easy as pie. And her words certainly helped the progress.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she murmured. ‘Do it, please. Please do it.’

  If the front of Sandra’s thigh was smooth then the inside was . . .

  Was . . .

  Well it was beyond compare. Totally breathless, Angie ran her fingers along the joint between leg and groin. Sandra’s panties were damp and the flesh beneath was hotter than hot.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she reiterated. ‘Do it, please. Please do it.’

  Omigod, Angie thought, I can do it for her too. I can do it for any woman, anywhere on earth!

  Touching Sandra’s pussy was an incredible experience. She had a thin patch of short, crinkly hair (a landing strip, Angie supposed) but was otherwise clean-shaven. Finding her clit was no problem at all. Neither was finding the mouth of her hungry vagina.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she urged. ‘Do me, do me, do me!’

  Even at close quarters their interaction was astounding. Angie desperately wanted to get her tongue in there but they were at the roadside, vulnerable to passing motorists and police patrols. So she held control and did what she had to do. And in her own estimation she did it well. By then something of an expert, she used her thumb on Sandra’s clitoris while poking two rigid fingers inside her.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Sandra almost screamed. ‘Do me, do me, DO ME!!’

  Throughout all this both of Sandra’s hands had been in Angie’s sweatshirt. She’d squeezed almost as hard on Angie’s tits as she’d squeezed elsewhere with more intimate muscles.

  Then, after her billionth cum, she changed tactics. Suddenly she was undoing Angie’s jeans.

  Suddenly she was rubbing Angie’s pussy, not penetrating but giving it the most amazing friction.

  Angie came half a dozen times: bam, bam, bam!

  Each was better than the last and Number Six totally drained her.

  ‘Enough,’ she gasped. ‘My God, Sandra, what are yo
u trying to do to me?’

  Leaning against each other, still at the mercy of passing motorists, they struggled for breath.

  ‘I’m yours, duck,’ Sandra confided. ‘I know you’re committed but you can have me anytime. And I still want to shag with you more than ever.’

  ‘I think we just did shag,’ said Angie.

  Sandra took hold of Angie’s hand, raising it to her mouth before very deliberately sucking her fingers.

  ‘Like blood brothers,’ she said.

  Angie watched as Sandra sucked her own fingers.

  ‘Blood sisters, more like,’ she said.

  ‘We’re bonded forever,’ Sandra countered. ‘We just have to do it for real.’

  ‘For real,’ Angie echoed, laughing. ‘I don’t have any bones in my legs and my knees are jelly.’

  Sandra was silent a moment (quite an event in itself!). ‘I’m not a virgin,’ she said finally. ‘Not when it comes to guys. You’re my first girl, though. And haven’t I started off at the top of the food chain!’

  Angie just stared at her, unsettled and unsure what to say.

  ‘I mean it,’ Sandra went on. ‘I don’t fancy many other girls but you send out signals like a lighthouse. I so, so want to shag with you. And I don’t care if you are already involved with someone else; I need to shag with you urgently.’

  ‘Listen, Sandra, I’m flattered and I . . . I . . .’

  ‘Don’t dare brush me off like that!’

  Angie sighed deeply. Considered Ronnie for maybe three seconds . . . Ronnie who was currently up to God knew what.

  ‘Let’s take it steady,’ she said, speaking with no forethought at all. ‘I’ll be free again next Saturday. We can go out if you like . . .’

  Chapter Six

  Angie hadn’t been wrong about being the talk of the sixth form. By Monday everyone had classed her and Sandra up there with Liz and Suzanne. But in keeping with the laissez-faire tradition, nobody was bitchy about it. Indeed, comparing notes that afternoon, Sandra had confided she’d never had so many indecent proposals.

  ‘I’ve even had them from guys who’ve never been indecent before,’ she said, chuckling. ‘Who’d have thought that being a lezzie could be so alluring!’

  Then, seeing Angie’s dubious expression, she’d moved in close and personal.

  ‘I’m not sure I’m a lezzie,’ she said, ‘but I’m attracted to you. I can’t help myself. You’re just so frigging sexy it’s untrue.’

  Angie didn’t believe that for one second but did take it as heartfelt. And she did begin to wonder about herself. Large, broad-shouldered, a skinhead unable to smile without scaring folk . . . yet she’d pulled two of the most glamorous women on the planet.

  And both still wanted more!

  As did she, of course!!

  *****

  The next few weeks were slightly awkward. In other words, like the rest of the entire school, Ronnie soon heard about Angie and Sandra. Not that she was unpleasant about it. She actually commended Angie on her taste and congratulated her on her success.

  ‘You have something about you that attracts women,’ she said. ‘Even straight women always look at you at least twice. Trust me, Angie Baby; your life at uni is going to be a very full one.’

  Angie was still uneasy about receiving compliments. She was uneasy about the dates she’d had with Sandra on Saturday nights, as well. Sandra didn’t know about Ronnie. She took it for granted Angie’s “mistress” was older, possibly married but hadn’t a clue who she was. And, although she often asked for details, she never pressed.

  She did, however, regularly press for sex. Their Saturday nights always ended with kisses and fingers but never anything more. “I want to shag with you” became her standard parting phrase.

  Then it was Easter.

  *****

  Angie’s parents had had a timeshare for quite a while. They had the same four weeks every year: two in spring, two in autumn. Up until 1996 they’d always taken Angie with them when they vacated. Last autumn, taking into account the pressure of impending A-levels, they’d left her home alone. Being at the time sexually innocent, Angie had failed to take advantage of the freedom.

  But this time . . .

  Easter came early in 1997, much to Mum and Dad’s disgruntlement. Normally they’d been and gone before the kids were on holiday. This year they were getting the full load of squealing brats and Angie had never had any intention of sharing it with them.

  Liberated in every sense of the word, she had better things in mind than sun, sand and sangria.

  But sadly Ronnie had other plans. To her a break of over a fortnight was opportunity to paint and paint and paint.

  And it was the opportunity to fuck a few old girlfriends, naturally.

  ‘I can fill a dozen or more canvasses,’ she told Angie. ‘I’ve had everything arranged for ages.’

  And she quite evidently had. Her plans were to spend the first week in the Lake District, staying with Alice in Ambleside. Then to cross-country to spend the four days over Easter with Roberta in Robin Hood’s Bay. And then (as if proving she didn’t only have alliterative venues and lovers) she was going to backtrack to the Dales for a week with Clare in Kettlewell.

  Angie was disheartened to learn Ronnie’s plans but somehow held her tongue.

  It’s her hippy past, she reminded herself. It’s the way she is.

  *****

  Like most British holidaymakers, Angie’s parents flew to Lanzarote on a Thursday, the day before she broke up at school and a whole week before Easter itself. Ronnie’s plan was to drive up to the Lakes on the Saturday. Without having to answer to her mum that left Angie free to stay over for two nights and she greatly enjoyed the experience.

  Well, she didn’t enjoy having to sneak out of Ronnie’s early on Friday, before other pupils or teachers might be perchance passing by. Otherwise it was excellent fun.

  Saturday morning (with Ronnie back in Miss Pearce mode) Angie was woken by a shower of kisses followed by an assault by dildo and vibrator. Then, feeling as horny as she’d ever been, she decided she wanted to fuck Veronica more than anything else on earth.

  Veronica didn’t seem to mind. She obligingly rolled onto her back and parted her legs.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she sighed as Angie kissed first her gemstone, then her tattoo.

  And that butterfly was so lifelike! Angie had the irrational feeling that if she kissed it often enough it’d flap its wings for her. A thousand attempts and it hadn’t done yet, but naturally that didn’t keep a girl from trying.

  Veronica’s clit was tiny but noticeably erect. She sighed some more when Angie licked, nuzzled and nibbled at it.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she repeated before saying, in an amazingly normal voice: ‘I wish you could come with me. On my travels, I mean.’

  Angie put her tongue on hold and glanced up, her eyes passing over Veronica’s lovely body and tits. Veronica’s head was resting on a pillow so it was easy to meet her hazel-brown eyes behind the glasses she hardly ever took off.

  ‘I will if you will,’ Angie said, aware of her heart doing strange things in her chest.

  ‘It’s Alice,’ Veronica said. ‘She doesn’t do threes.’

  Angie’s heart suddenly looped the loop in the opposite direction. ‘Threes,’ she echoed.

  ‘Threes,’ Veronica agreed. ‘Roberta does and Clare lives for them. But Alice is dead-set against.’

  ‘Are you talking about three-in-a-bed sex?’

  ‘Of course I am. And don’t tell me you’ve never considered the possibility. I can read you like a book.’

  Angie was silent a moment. She had fantasized about being in bed with Suzanne and Liz, but only in a vague sort of a way. And there was a world of difference between fantasy and reality, wasn’t there?

  ‘Maybe you could skip the Lakes and join me in Robin Hood’s Bay,’ Veronica went on. ‘The trains on Good Friday might be a bit iffy, though. I might have to pick you up in York or Harrogate.’

&nbs
p; Angie moved back up Veronica’s body, only stopping when their tits were together and her nose was about an inch from her lover’s.

  ‘Are you suggesting I have sex with women I’ve never even met before?’

  ‘It’s a kick, isn’t it?’ Veronica laughed. ‘I can vouch for their integrity. And I know having two pussies to fuck will get you off. I know what you’re like, remember?’