“ No,” the tomato said loudly to his departing back, but he didn’t turn back to argue with her.
Lola never saw him again during the afternoon, though she imagined him hiding in shops and peeping at them whenever he could. After the rest of the group left for the day, Cherry dragged Lola into the Dress Barn Woman store, saying only, “Let’s go change clothes.”
In the dressing room, which fortunately had a wooden door that locked and went almost down to the floor, the tomato told Lola to strip.
“Everything?”
“Everything. Now. We’re going to change clothes — with each other.”
Lola pulled off her skirt and her panties and watched Cherry take off her jeans. They stood side by side in front of the mirror and looked at each other, their breasts tanned from the afternoon of sun, their sturdy hips, their matching curves, their long hair only an inch or so different in length — maybe not twins, Lola thought, but definitely sisters.
Cherry held Lola in front of her and caressed her. “Watch me,” she whispered as her hands ran down over Lola’s belly and her fingers began to slide inside Lola, who was already soaking wet.
“Watch me watching you,” Cherry whispered again, and Lola met her eyes as Cherry’s thumb stroked her clit and two fingers twisted deep inside of her. “More,” Lola sighed, “more…more.” Cherry slid a third finger inside of her as Lola leaned back against her and began to shudder.
“Open your eyes and watch,” Cherry said, and she did, and all she could see was feminine skin and beauty and softness and her own trembling legs and Cherry’s strong fingers bringing her to the finest orgasm she could ever remember having.
Cherry began to dress her in her jeans and tank top, but Lola protested that it was her turn. “Not yet, sweetheart,” the tomato laughed. “Right now, I’m hungry.”
“For what?”
“Bacon.”
“I don‘t know if he‘ll be there,” Lola said nervously as Cherry drove her home.
“It doesn’t matter,” Cherry said with a smile, Lola’s thigh pressed up against hers as she drove, her right arm draped around Lola’s shoulder. “He’ll come.”
Lola thought maybe she wanted to stay sitting just as they were in Cherry’s old-style car forever, with Cherry wearing Lola’s skirt and shirt, minus the black lace bra since it wasn’t quite big enough. They could drive around town, calling out new meat names for men, calling out to women to take their tops off for equality! then ride off into the sunset, stopping every now and then to climb in the big back seat and fuck each other into some kind of happiness.
“Check the missed calls on my cell phone, baby, I’m sure you’ll find he’s around. But tell me, Lola, do you own a strap-on?”
Lola saw Keith’s cell phone number on the phone, and tried to care, but she was too busy giggling at the idea of herself with a strap-on. “No, just a regular plug-in vibrator. We’ve never been too big on sex toys.”
Cherry patted her shoulder like a child. “You’ll find that Bacon has plenty.”
“He does?”
“Yes, baby, check his gym bag that he never goes to the gym with.”
The sudden curiosity growing over Lola was stronger than the rays of final evening sunlight piercing through their windows. “What do you do with him, Cherry? Why does he call you?”
“About the same as all guys, baby. They stroke themselves, they fantasize, I fantasize for them, they imaging sucking my tits…” she said, guiding Lola’s head to that spot, unbuttoning one more button for her to imitate. “Then I almost always have them picture me with my big black strap-on fucking them up the ass, while they do it to themselves with their own dildoes and plugs.”
Lola sucked, pressing her head hard to Cherry’s breasts, while she felt her wetness almost flow down to her toes at Cherry’s words.
“Yeah, I know,” Cherry whispered softly to her, “it’s hot, isn’t it, baby. You can see why I do it for a living.”
“He’s never asked me for that,” Lola said, coming up for air. “My finger there, maybe sometimes, but nothing else.”
“And that’s your answer, isn’t it, why meat comes to the tomato — to get what they’re not comfortable going for elsewhere. Don’t worry, baby, we’re here, and Bacon’s got everything we need. We’ll sizzle.”
They took their tops off, even though it was dark, and ran up the stairs to Lola and Keith’s place, but found no Bacon in sight. Lola found the gym bag immediately, and couldn’t help but laugh at the variety found there.
“Let’s greet him with them,” Cherry said, starting to lay out a trail of toys from the front door to the bed with Lola’s help. “Save these two, baby, that’s what you’ll need.”
They raided the fridge and fed each other in bed; they raided each other and ate, and ate, until the entire apartment smelled like sex, and contentment. The sound of his key in the lock woke them both from their drowsy sexed-out sleep. Cherry jumped out of bed and covered Lola up with the quilt.
“You can’t be here!” Keith said as the tomato stood in front of him stark naked and greeted him with a kiss. But she felt for his crotch and he was already hard, so she only laughed and walked him carefully through the toy- trail toward the bed.
“Lola will come home!” he tried again, but she assured him that wasn’t a problem, and he began to lose track of his concern as she unbuttoned his shirt and kissed him again, hard. When he started moaning, she stopped undressing him, stepped back and said, “Bacon, strip.”
He stripped for her, quickly. Lola popped up from beneath the covers and stared. Bacon. Keith was tall and lean, and if Lola squinted at him just right he did look like a piece of bacon — hot, a little slippery, not necessarily good for you, but tasty.
“Lola!” He looked more than stunned, staring at the two voluptuous naked women in front of him, rather like he was watching both his wildest fantasy and his worst nightmare come true.
“Lola, get dressed,” he said in his firmest boyfriend voice, trying to regain some control over the situation.
“ No,” she said, and it sounded like someone else’s voice, a strong voice, a voice that could stand up for itself anywhere in the world. “No, I won‘t.”
“Don’t sweat, Bacon,” the tomato jumped in. “ We’ll fuck you, you’ll cook for us, we’ll talk — grill you even maybe. It will all become clear.”
Keith smiled, then frowned, but Lola noticed that his cock never went down. “Lola, I barely know this woman…nothing she’s told you is true…you both need to get dressed, and she has to leave.”
“ No,” Lola said, this time in the voice of a goddess, a voice that owned not just its sexuality but its freedom, its joy, and the strength of a dozen proud women. She brought out the lube and his silver rocket dildo and held them up to him with a sweet smile. “ No. No more lies.” She moved toward him and spanked his ass lightly. “Bend over, Bacon.”
Chapter 7 — Five States
I was young and crazy, living on the beach in Mexico with Jonno. Hippies, I guess you would call us, running ragged and barefoot over the burning white sand, living on shellfish and marijuana, sex and sunlight. Our canvas tent was set amid the swaying eucalyptus that fringed the beach, set back from time and tides, a discreet distance from the village of dark-eyed locals who studied our movements. Jonno said they were envious; I guess that was one explanation for the silent faces that watched us fucking on the shore and heard the gasps of satiation that we offered to the moonlit night. They never intruded, merely watched. I sensed their vicarious pleasure and often the thought of those fish-net roughened hands stroking their cocks to climax would send me spiraling to my own completion.
Free spirits, Jonno called us. We drifted through the villages, buying nopales, frijoles, and cheap tequila with the money we earned from selling strings of shell beads to the few American tourists who ventured our way. Free spirits, tied to no corporate world, no nine-to-five and, as I found out eventually, to anybody.
