In Les Spirites city, in the shadows, two shadows vaguely feminine, moved through the night.
They entered a building complex. By light, plain to see. They wore long coats, wrapped around their bodies.
Swiftly they moved up the stairs, and into a room, an apartment.
The light comes on. Both women illuminated, revealing blond hair, bronze skin, the beacher’s tan.
Within minutes, another two women joined them: one with brown hair, in a tight bun, and the other with dark hair.
They carried a jar and a beverage (which they inserted into the fridge).
One of them placed a green-fold of money in the jar, the other added her own.
The two blond women ungarbed their coats, revealing only flesh beneath. Save for a strap at their thighs, with a cylindrical item (a dildo).
They doused their fingers with a light oil, and assumed a position on the floor, almost as wrestlers do.
Rhythmically, they fingered each other. The other women watched intently: as though watching a prize fight, silently rooting for one wrestling woman to victory over the other.
Over the night, lesbians did their normal routines. Just a few: slip off together with others for finger wrestling. Unlike actual wrestling, all required of them is their consent, submitting their vaginal zones to the other, in a calculated gesture: if the other bursts, first, the jar is theirs. Every green fold within.
Eventually, one of the onlooker paused the fight: the brunette with a tight hair bun, added to the jar, doubling its content. She nodded to one blond woman, who reached to her thigh, removed her dildo and inserted it into her blond sex sparring partner.
This move was the ‘upgrade’: where by increasing the stakes, an onlooker could unlock use of a dildo, for her ‘champion’. A dildo would hasten the end of the match.
So the other onlooker with ebony hair, did the same. Then both sexual wrestlers were moving together, each with a dildo in their hands.
Eventually, one of the bronze lesbians burst, slid to the ground, with a soft moan. The other withdraw her dildo from the defeated: and insert it into her own vaginal canal. (In some cases, the victor simply decides to finish off the yearning within their own loins, before collecting their win).
The victor collected the jar. A sheen of sweat on her brows and a sigh of relief. She placed it in her coat, and briefly, sit with her onlookers, currying favor for a future ‘sex sparring match’. They all sipped of a sparkling golden beverage that they withdrew from a fridge.
Soon, the victor retired to the next room, turned off the light. She laid quietly on silk sheets, only the moon shining through a window to outline her form, in a swathe of silvery light.
Pensive, but mildly fulfilled, she breathed slowly and more slowly and regularly.
Her drink and the soft murmurs of her associates and friends in the background, left a mild if pleasant buzz in her mind.
Blackness entered her vision, she drifted off to sleep. After that evening, she slept deeply, and dreamt only of a strange, but oddly consoling nightly oblivion: the deep, sometimes dreamless sleep of those who sleep in the southern Californian region.
***
From creative of commons for lesbians. Submitted by Erica Penn, Elizabeth Wite, Alicia Books. Shared with no conditions, for a lesbian creative writing club.
Disclaimer:
The views, actions, ideas in the story therein do not express the views or ideas of this account.