Written Down

Rochelle wanted Becky to pull her blue panties down and off, wanted Becky's mouth on her nipples, on her pussy.

Rochelle wanted to tell Becky that she was not gay. She might be somewhat, slightly bisexual; Rochelle wasn't sure at this very moment.

"Yyeess," Rochelle hissed as she felt her panties being tugged down.

She raised her hips, to allow Becky to pull her blue panties down over her tight backside, over her hips, down her muscled legs. When Becky had Rochelle's panties off, Rochelle spread her legs, exposing her fringe of blonde curls, her wet pussy lips.

"Yyeess, oh my God!" Rochelle screamed out as she felt Becky's hot breath blow across her puffy lips.

"I love you," Rochelle shrieked out when Becky's mouth covered Rochelle's pussy.

Becky licked and sucked on Rochelle's fragrant lips. She forced her tongue into Rochelle's pussy and waggled her tongue back and forth, tasting Rochelle's excitement.

Rochelle's pussy had a sweet, musky flavor. Becky had tasted her own pussy, on her fingers, on her vibrator, on Todd's cock, on Douglas's cock. Becky had also tasted Monty's musky pussy. Rochelle's pussy also had a musky flavor, with an underlying tinge of sweetness. Becky could tell that Rochelle kept herself clean.

Becky used her thumbs to open Rochelle's pussy. She thrust two fingers into Rochelle's slick pussy while lapping her tongue up and down.

"Mmph, augh, oh God," Rochelle cried out, clamping her thighs around Becky's head when Becky's mouth encircled Rochelle's clitoris.

Becky licked and fingered Rochelle to three screaming, grunting, thrashing orgasms. Finally, Becky pulled away, fighting against Rochelle's grip. Rochelle relaxed her thighs and Becky sat back onto her heels. Becky sucked Rochelle's juices from her fingers.

Becky wiggled out of her panties; the crotch was sopping wet with her excitement. She lay forward again, kissing from just above Rochelle's sprigs of blonde curls to Rochelle's tight belly. She knee-walked forward, kissing Rochelle's sweaty flesh until she reached Rochelle's 34D breasts. Becky suckled one nipple while her hand teased the other. Then she switched.

Finally, Becky wiggled forward and pressed her bald pussy against Rochelle's furred crotch. She lay fully on top of Rochelle, pressing Rochelle into the soft mattress.

"Uh, oh God," Becky suddenly cried out in orgasm; her clitoris rubbed back and forth across Rochelle's wiry sprig of pubic hair.

The two women kissed, tongue tasting tongue. Becky thrust and mashed and rubbed her pussy against Rochelle's pussy until she reached a second orgasm.

"Oh," Becky moaned, rolling off of Rochelle.

"Oh," Rochelle agreed, shuddering slightly.

"I uh, wow," Becky wheezed.

Rochelle wanted to tell Becky she was not gay. She enjoyed what they'd just done. Of course she'd enjoyed it; she'd had achieved orgasm from Becky's touches, from Becky's mouth.

Rochelle wanted to tell Becky she did not think they'd ever repeat this moment together. She liked men, craved sex with men. She was actively seeking a relationship with a man, hopefully one that could father a child, and more importantly, be around to help raise the child. She had profiles on three dating web sites, as well as on the U.L.D. on-line personals. Of course, because Rochelle was a cop, most of the men seeking women tended to steer clear of Rochelle.

Rochelle rolled over to tell Becky that she wasn't gay. Her lips pressed against Becky's lips. She tasted herself on Becky's lips. She tasted herself on Becky's tongue. Rochelle sucked fervently, sucked her taste from Becky's lips and tongue.

Her hands lifted, squeezed Becky's heavy breasts. Her hands sought out Becky's large areolae, Becky's tightly crinkled nipples. Rochelle pulled her mouth from Becky's mouth and captured Becky's right nipple in her mouth.

"Mm hmm," Rochelle crooned as Becky's arms hugged her tightly.

Rochelle sucked forcefully on Becky's nipple. Her fingers twisted and tugged Becky's other nipple. Rochelle switched, began to suck on Becky's left nipple while her fingers tugged and twisted Becky's wet right nipple.

"Ugh, oh God yyeess," Becky grunted.

"I love you," Rochelle whispered as she kissed her way from Becky's breasts to Becky's nub of a belly button.

Rochelle kissed from Becky's navel to Becky's bald mound. Rochelle ran her fingers, then her tongue over the smooth flesh. She ran her fingers, then her tongue over Becky's protruding inner lips.

Rochelle wiggled around and lay between Becky's spread legs. Again, she ran fingers and tongue over Becky's smooth flesh. She then began to lap in earnest at Becky's pussy lips.

Rochelle lapped from the bottom of Becky's wet slit to the top of Becky's slit. She did this several times, tasting Becky's musky pussy. Then she used her fingers to open Becky's pussy. Her tongue found Becky's fat little nub and she 'batted' the sensitive nub a few times before sucking it into her mouth.

Rochelle fingered Becky's pussy with her left hand. Her right hand, Rochelle brought down between her own legs. She sucked and fingered and licked Becky to two orgasms while fingering herself to two orgasms.

"No more, too, ugh! Oh God, too sensitive," Becky pleaded.

Rochelle rolled onto her back and used both hands to bring herself to one more orgasm. She then wiggled up until she and Becky were laying side by side.

A few moments later, Rochelle rolled over and pressed her lips to Becky's lips. The two women embraced, kissing softly.

"Stay?" Becky whispered. "Stay the night?"

"Going have to," Rochelle agreed. "I'm too wiped to drive."

They wiggled underneath the comforter and flat sheet. They kissed again, then Becky turned out the light. With one final kiss, they fell asleep.

In the morning, Rochelle woke up in a strange bed, alone. She took a quiet moment, reliving the previous evening's love-making. She reached her hand down and began to lightly rub her pussy.

"Damn it, got to pee," she smiled, wiggling out of the bed.

The toilet in the half-bath was a small one, close to the ground. Rochelle smiled; Kathleen would love it. She had Gloria and Kathleen one weekend every month; only two weekends to go. Rochelle wondered if Becky would like to meet her girls.

"Thought you're not gay?" Rochelle asked her reflection as she washed her hands.

"Oh, shut up," Rochelle told her reflection.

She dressed in last night's clothing; sticking her panties into her purse. Then she quickly made the bed.

She found a sweating, nude Becky in her living room, just finishing up her yoga. Becky smiled and stood.

"Give me a minute and I'll make us some breakfast," Becky said. "Nothing fancy; just some yogurt and fruits and nuts. Coffee machine's on."

Rochelle made herself a cup of coffee. Just as she sat at the table, Becky appeared, wearing just a U.L.D. Storm football jersey and panda bear slippers.

"Cute slippers," Rochelle smiled.

"Today's special is our Tropical blend," Becky said, dumping unflavored Greek yogurt into a bowl.

Becky sliced up two bananas, then added some pineapple chunks, some mangos, and coconut milk and coconut shavings. Each bowl was topped with a hefty sprinkling of slivered almonds and a steamy kiss.

"Okay, I'm off at seven tonight," Rochelle said, putting her breakfast bowl into the dishwasher.

"Need come over," Becky pleaded. "God, want you to meet Douglas; you'll love him, I swear."

"You love him? Good enough for me," Rochelle lied, sure she already hated the unknown man.

Douglas wearily let himself into the house at four that afternoon. It had been a very long two weeks of hard, physical labor, then a boat ride that seemed to take forever to get in. To his shame, Douglas had become seasick on the journey, but only a few men had laughed at Douglas's discomfort.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Becky called out from her office.

"Hey Beautiful," Douglas smiled as a nude Becky came out, wearing nothing but cowboy boots and cowboy hat.

"Leave it," Becky said as Douglas started to carry his clothes to the garage. "You got all week wash them. Becky needs something else right now."

Becky managed to keep the cowboy hat on her head while she sucked his cock to a teeth grinding ejaculation. She also managed to keep it on her head while she rode him to a second ejaculation. The hat did fall off her head, though, as Douglas pounded her greasy anus hard and fast.

Laying in the bed, cuddled in sweaty happiness, Becky told Douglas about her new girlfriend. Describing Rochelle's beauty, her physical appearance had Douglas excited. Becky's description of their hot, sweaty night of lovemaking had Douglas's cock rock hard and throbbing.

"Told her stop by tonight; we're having fried pork chops; that okay?" Becky asked, swiveling to straddle Douglas's renewed erection.

"Yeah, I guess," Douglas feigned disinterest.

"Okay, you being a butt hole about the pork chops? Or about meeting my new girlfriend?" Becky laughed, pulling her right buttock with her right hand while trying to guide him into her anus with her left hand.

"Both, I guess," Douglas laughed, then groaned as he slid into her tight back door again.

Douglas did start washing his clothes while Becky started their dinner. Every time he came within reach, Becky would pull him tight against her, reach up for a kiss.

"You know, don't think Vanessa ever acted like this," Douglas mused to himself as he and Becky shared yet another kiss.

Two years earlier, Douglas had been engaged to Vanessa Blanchard. The girl had been blessed with her mother's Latin good looks and lush body. She had also been blessed with her father's brains; at twenty three years old, Vanessa was just completing her doctorate in Statistical Analysis.

Although Vanessa was very sexual, almost animalistic in her appetite, there was always a coldness, an aloofness that Douglas just couldn't identify. Even after she asked her to marry him, after she agreed, Vanessa's emotions never did fully thaw.

When Douglas's grandmother died, Vanessa did not offer condolences. When he asked her to accompany him to Bender, Florida, to attend the funeral of his grandmother, Vanessa's answer was a terse 'no.' as she explained, it was not her grandmother that had died, it was his grandmother. Why did she need to inconvenience herself?

When he returned to their apartment from the funeral, Douglas found that Vanessa had moved out. She had taken everything with her. Every stick of furniture, every food item, every towel and wash cloth, every dish towel, every plate and cup and glass. She had even taken the bar of soap from the soap dish that sat over the bathroom sink.

"I found someone else," Vanessa shrugged when Douglas finally located her, confronted her.

Vanessa was not happy when Douglas was able to produce the receipts for much of the furniture. She also balked at returning the seven thousand dollar engagement ring to Douglas.

"You will pay for this," Vanessa coldly told Douglas when she returned the ring and handed him a cashier's check for the furniture.

He had lived in fear for the next seven months; Douglas believed Vanessa when she said those cold words. Thankfully, though, Vanessa Blanchard was confined to Northeast Wellness Center, in Paulton, Louisiana.

Vanessa had come home to find her boyfriend in bed with their next door neighbor. The murder of the two men had been cold, calculated, gruesome.

Vanessa had been beautiful, sexual, and Douglas had believed he had loved her. Becky was beautiful, sexual as well. And when Becky said she loved him, Douglas believed she meant those words.

At ten after seven, Rochelle sent Becky a text, asking if she still wanted Rochelle to come for dinner. Becky responded with a 'you better; it's almost ready.'

"Now, you behave yourself," Becky waggled a finger at Douglas. "You hear?"

"What?" Douglas laughed out loud. "Becky! What you think I'm going do?"

"Like I know how men think?" Becky asked as they both heard a car door slam. "Go get the door."

Rochelle was nervous. Suppose she didn't like Becky's boyfriend? She already didn't like him; he was Becky's boyfriend and therefore was competition for the beautiful girl's affections.

Suppose Becky's boyfriend didn't like her? Rochelle knew all too well the sway men had over some weak-willed women. Becky didn't seem to be weak-willed, but then again, Rochelle had not seem weak-willed, and she'd thrown away a good marriage, the chance of a good life because of Chad and Tommy, two domineering men and her own inability to tell those men to take a hike.

"Hi, you must be Rochelle," Douglas smiled warmly as he opened the door. "Uh, Becky? Uh, forgot tell me she's a cop, huh?"

"I told you; you just didn't listen," Becky called out from the kitchen. "Typical man. You just heard what you wanted to hear."

Rochelle felt her pussy get wet, looking at the handsome blond. He was model handsome, and his warm brown eyes were smiling at her as he ushered her into the home. His eyes were smiling at her, not leering at her, not sneering at her.

"And what did I want to hear?" Douglas asked.

"That she's beautiful and after that, your brain just stopped, I'm sure," Becky responded.

"Dinner's just about ready; I got us some white wine go with it. You want a class?" Douglas offered to Rochelle as he shut the door.

"I uh, yeah, I please," Rochelle stammered, feeling off-balance around the handsome man.

The wine was good. The food was excellent; Becky gave all credit to her sister in law, Layla. Douglas amused them with tales of his first tour on an oil-rig.

"And you got to be careful," Douglas said. "They find out something bothers you? They'll do it and do it and do it until you're ready to kill them, and then they're all like 'What? Can't take a joke?' when it's no joke."

"Sounds like high school," Rochelle smiled.

"Uh huh. Yeah, some of them? Hit their peak in high school," Douglas agreed. "Like Richard Richards? Comes up to me and says, 'Hey, Douglas, say you go camping with a bunch of us guys and you get really drunk and you wake up to find your ass is really sore and your lips are all sticky. You going tell anyone?'"

"What? That's, they would do that?" Becky asked.

"But I'd heard that one in high school," Douglas said. "You say 'no' and they come back with 'want to go camping?'"

"As if!" Rochelle snorted.

"So I said, 'no, I wouldn't tell anyone,'" Douglas said, tearing off a chunk of pork chop. "And before Richard can say that stuff about 'want to go camping?' I hit him with 'because if I tell anyone, they'll want to know where I buried your bodies.'"

"Cute. That's cute," Rochelle nodded.

Douglas resumed eating. Rochelle swallowed her mouthful of food and told them how she'd become a cop.

"I'm sitting in my dumpy one room apartment, Leslie and me, we'd just finished a gig; God! I hated dancing, always felt so disgusting afterward, Leslie loves it, she's still doing it," Rochelle said. "Anyway, I'm sitting there, and on Performance twelve? That Summer Duhon? That reporter is doing this thing on women cops."

"Eww, hate her," Becky interjected. "With that stupid 'Hi-yee' and 'Bye-yee' stuff."

"And she's showing this Becky Yuma; woman's been a cop longer than I've been alive, and Elise Richards; her dad's a cop and Elyse is drop dead gorgeous, she's a mom and a wife; she's one stopped that bank robbery couple years back," Rochelle continued.

"Oh! Oh yeah, remember that!" Douglas interrupted. "Drove a van right through the front doors, jumped out shooting."

"That's it," Rochelle agreed. "And showed Georgie Sanders; woman broke up a ring of dirty cops; she was still a rookie, but managed take down these vicious cops."

"Out in the Waters Projects? Remember that. Didn't know she'd been a rookie at the time," Douglas agreed.

"Y'all, y'all know I don't have a clue what y'all are talking about," Becky admitted.

"But I'm sitting there, looking at all this and I say to myself, 'I can do that. I mean, maybe not at the same level as Elyse or Georgie, but I can do that.' And so went and looked up how to sign up," Rochelle said. "Apparently I wasn't the only one seen that thing on the news; they had almost a thousand women signed up."

"Oh my goodness!" Becky said.

"All of them become cops?" Douglas asked.

"You kidding? More than half of them dropped out first week," Rochelle smiled. "Becky, I hate asparagus, I mean hate it with a capital 'H' but this is delicious."

"Layla's one showed me how make it; I hate it too," Becky laughed.

"I take all the blame; I told Becky I love it," Douglas said.

"You know, I'm trying real hard to not like you," Rochelle confessed.

"Really? But why? I'm so loveable," Douglas smiled. "Yeah, I get it. I'm trying real hard not to like you either."

"What? Why?" Becky asked the pair of them, head swiveling from Rochelle to Douglas.

"Because, silly, he's my competition," Rochelle admitted to Becky.

"And there's no way I can live up to what she can, what the two of y'all can do," Douglas agreed.

"But y'all, there's no..." Becky argued.

"I mean, she's beautiful, and soft and pretty, and I'm just a hairy smelly man," Douglas continued.

"And he's got a dick, shit! He can give you kids; what I got?" Rochelle agreed.

"But there's no competition," Becky again said. "I love y'all both."

"You love me?" Rochelle asked.

"And I love you too," Douglas said. "Tell Layla I love the cauliflower puree too."

"Yeah, I do," Becky said to Rochelle. "I mean, what we did last night?"

"Oh my God! You didn't! You told him what we did?" Rochelle asked, face flaming.

"Well, yeah, he's my boyfriend," Becky said.

"Yeah, she did. Made me jealous," Douglas said. "There any more asparagus?"

"No; I'll get more next time," Becky said.

"I am. So. Embarrassed," Rochelle said.

"I, Rochelle, you, you ashamed of what we done?" Becky asked, feeling horribly off-center, almost nauseous now.

"It helps any? Becky said it was beautiful," Douglas said, putting his plate into the dishwasher. "This pan go in the sink or dishwasher?"

"No. Of course not," Rochelle stammered. "It's just that, it's just, it's just so personal, you know?"

"Neither; it's cast iron, Douglas," Becky said, the feeling of being unbalanced not diminishing.

"And? Yeah, it's personal, but I'm not going to keep secrets from Douglas," Becky said, afraid to get up; she was sure she'd fall over.

"I, listen, want me leave y'all alone?" Douglas asked softly.

"No," Rochelle whispered.

"But you, we, we going make love? Again? I mean, not right now, but ever?" Becky asked Rochelle.

"Yes, I, God damn, I, I think I'm in love with you, I mean, not just love you, but in love with you," Rochelle blurted out.

"Want me to leave?" Douglas again asked.

"No," Rochelle said, getting to her feet.

"But you're not leaving," Becky insisted.

Rochelle's hand went to the buttons of her uniform blouse. She smiled nervously as she undid the first button.

"No, I'm not leaving, you're not leaving," Rochelle said, undoing the second button. "No one's leaving."

Rochelle led the procession to Becky's bedroom. Becky followed, also undoing the snaps of her blouse. Douglas brought up the rear, unsure of what to do.

At the side of Becky's bed, Rochelle turned to say something. Becky stepped up and pulled Rochelle into an embrace. The two women kissed, tongues tasting tongues. Becky's hands found the clasp of Rochelle's plain white bra and unhooked the garment.

"You, uh you not getting undressed?" Rochelle asked Douglas.

"I uh, I wasn't, I didn't know if y'all want..." Douglas stammered.

Becky released Rochelle, turned and pulled Douglas down for a passionate kiss. She began to tug his pullover shirt up.

"We want you, um, to join us," Rochelle assured the handsome blond.