Daring Her Buxom Roommate to Seduce Three Women

The late light through the blinds painted stripes across Adriana’s bare thighs. She was twenty-nine, five feet seven, and the tank top she wore did nothing to hide the long nipples of her 36C breasts. She had waxed that morning until the skin of her pussy was sleek and faintly tender, and she had spent the hour since thinking about the blond woman on the other side of the couch.

Danielle was twenty-eight, five feet ten, buxom enough that her loose shirt gaped when she leaned forward. Blond hair spilled over one shoulder. Her own pussy was waxed smooth under gray shorts, a fact Adriana knew because they had stopped pretending not to notice each other after the first year of sharing the apartment. The wanting had begun when both of them were already grown, keys in their own names, and it had only gotten louder.

“You’re staring again,” Danielle said, voice lazy and warm.

“I’m deciding how to dare you.” Adriana set her glass down and crossed the small space between them. She sat on the couch arm, close enough that Danielle’s breath warmed her knee. “Three women. Specific ones. You seduce them, they have to want it, and if you come back successful, you stop being the roommate who makes me soak my panties. You become my girlfriend. One night. Official. I will not hold a single thing back.”

Danielle’s smile went slow. “Names.”

“Camille first. Twenty-two. The college intern in my department. She goes pink every time you pick me up. Be slow with her. Romantic. Kiss her until she forgets her own name, make love to her, and finish with your mouths on each other. A real sixty-nine, not a tease.”

“Second.”

“Valerie. My boss. Thirty-eight. She watches your mouth like it owes her money. Take her with tribbing and oral. Make her come apart, as long as she asks you for it.”

Danielle’s hand settled on Adriana’s thigh, thumb stroking once. “And the third.”

“Gloria. Forty-five. My mom’s best friend. She told me over wine that she has wanted a woman who knows what she’s doing, and she was not joking. Lick her pussy. Finger her. Slow dance with her until she pulls you closer. All three are adults. All three get a real choice. If anyone says no, you leave, the dare ends, and we stay exactly what we are. If they say yes, you come home and I am yours. Seven hours. I already cleared tomorrow.”

Danielle looked up the length of Adriana’s body, at the long nipples tenting cotton, at the flush on her throat. “You want to watch me win.”

“I want to be the prize,” Adriana said. “And I want you aching for me the whole time you make them come.”

“Then stop talking,” Danielle murmured, “before I skip the dare and put my mouth on you right now.”

Adriana stood, legs unsteady, pussy already slick. “Win first. Then you can have every inch.”

Danielle found Camille in the quiet conference room after the interns’ afternoon meeting, twenty-two and bright-eyed, lanyard still on, lipstick slightly bitten. Danielle closed the door and did not rush. She said she had noticed the way Camille looked at her in the lobby, and she asked, plainly, if Camille wanted to be kissed.

Camille’s yes was soft and immediate.

Danielle took her time. She kissed Camille against the locked door, then slower on the small couch, mouths open, tongues learning each other, hands staying gentle until Camille pulled Danielle’s shirt up herself and whispered that she wanted more. They undressed without hurry. Danielle laid her down and made love to her with long strokes of her fingers and the warm weight of her body, kissing her through every shiver, praising the sounds she made. When Camille was gasping and wet, Danielle turned, swung a thigh over, and settled her waxed pussy over Camille’s mouth while she lowered her own mouth to Camille’s slick folds. The sixty-nine was unhurried and deep. They licked and sucked until Camille came with a muffled cry and Danielle followed, grinding down, blond hair stuck to her neck.

She texted from the elevator, hands still shaking. She tastes like she was waiting. I’m soaked. Your turn to ache.

Adriana wrote back with one hand already between her own waxed lips. Come home between them. I want to smell her on you before you go to Valerie.

Danielle did. She walked in flushed, shorts damp, and let Adriana press her face to the crotch of them just long enough to breathe. They did not fuck. Adriana had made that rule, voice wrecked, and Danielle obeyed it with visible pain. Then she changed into a tighter top and went to Valerie’s office after hours.

Valerie was thirty-eight, still in her blouse and heels, the building mostly empty. Danielle asked if the looks had meant anything. Valerie locked the door herself and said they had meant everything.

They did not do slow. Danielle hiked Valerie’s skirt, dragged her panties aside, and put her mouth on her until Valerie was cursing and holding Danielle’s blond head. Then Danielle climbed onto the leather couch, swung a leg over, and pressed her waxed pussy to Valerie’s. They tribbed hard, clits grinding, slick sounds filling the office, Danielle’s buxom chest bouncing as she rode the friction. She dropped back down for oral when Valerie begged, sucking her clit, licking deep, until Valerie came with her heels digging into the cushion. Danielle came a minute later from Valerie’s eager tongue, thighs shaking.

She called from the parking garage, voice raw. Valerie came on my mouth. I can still feel her clit against mine. I need you so badly I can barely drive.

“Gloria next,” Adriana said, and Danielle heard how wet the words were. “Then you come home and you do not leave my body until morning.”

Gloria met her at Gloria’s house, forty-five, dressed for an evening she had agreed to the moment Danielle called and asked, honestly, if she wanted to be seduced by a woman who would take her time. Gloria had laughed once, nervous and hungry, and said yes before Danielle finished the sentence.

They slow danced in the living room with the lamps low, Gloria’s cheek against Danielle’s collarbone, hips swaying, Danielle’s hands learning the curve of her waist. The dance turned into kissing, and kissing turned into Gloria’s dress unzipped and Danielle on her knees. She licked Gloria’s pussy with long, devoted strokes, tongue flat and then pointed, until Gloria was holding the back of the couch and moaning. Danielle slid two fingers inside, then three, curling them while her mouth stayed on Gloria’s clit. They danced again between orgasms, half-naked and sweaty, Gloria’s hands in blond hair, until Gloria came a final time with Danielle’s fingers buried and her tongue stroking slow.

Danielle drove home with Gloria’s taste on her lips and her own pussy throbbing, saved now for the woman waiting on their couch.

Adriana opened the door already dripping. “Did they all say yes?”

“They begged,” Danielle said. “Now be my girlfriend.”

They set the phone on the bookshelf together, both of them looking at the lens, both of them saying yes out loud so the recording would hold their consent in their own voices. Adriana wore a tight black dress that clung to her 36C breasts and made her long nipples obvious. Danielle wore a tight red one that barely contained her buxom chest and ended high on her thighs. They had cleared the bed, set out water, a towel, and the double-ended dildo they had bought months ago and never dared use on each other. Seven hours. Girlfriend and girlfriend. No more almost.

Danielle kissed her first, deep and claiming, and then her hands fisted in the black dress and tore. Seams gave. Adriana gasped and laughed and grabbed the red dress in return. Fabric ripped. Zippers failed. They yanked and clawed until both dresses hung in ruined strips and their bodies were bare, waxed pussies flushed, breasts free. Adriana’s long nipples stood dark and stiff. Danielle bent and bit one, not a nip but a real bite that made Adriana cry out and clutch her hair.

“On your knees,” Danielle said, and Adriana went down at once, eager, looking up for the nod Danielle gave. She screamed when Adriana’s mouth sealed over her pussy, a sharp shocked sound, because Adriana did not tease. She took as much of Danielle as her mouth could hold, lips stretched around the swollen outer lips, sucking the whole slick heat of her, tongue pushing all the way inside. Danielle’s knees buckled. She grabbed the dresser and screamed again, louder, while the phone recorded every wet sound and every plea.

“All of it,” Danielle gasped. “Take all of my pussy in your mouth. Your tongue is so far in.”

Adriana moaned into her and obeyed, jaw aching, tongue buried to the root, licking the clutching inner walls while her lips worked the rest. Danielle came like that, standing, gushing against Adriana’s chin, thighs shaking around her girlfriend’s face. Adriana stayed on her knees and drank her through it, nose buried, greedy, until Danielle had to pull her up by the hair just to breathe.

They made it to the bed without letting go. Danielle dragged Adriana up and bit her other nipple, then the first again, sucking and biting until the long peaks were swollen and Adriana was writhing and begging. They scissored together, waxed pussies flush, clits grinding in a long tribal slide that turned frantic. They tribbed over and over, hips rolling, breasts crushed, long nipples dragging across Danielle’s larger chest. They came once like that, then kept going, slick and relentless, the friction filthy and perfect, until Adriana’s voice broke and she squirted a hot splash across Danielle’s mound.

“Again,” Danielle demanded, and rolled them, and they sixty-nined until the room smelled like sweat and pussy and the sweet edge of another peak. Adriana on top, then Danielle, mouths buried, licking deep, sucking clits, tongues fucking into each other. Adriana took Danielle’s entire pussy into her mouth again from below, straining, while Danielle licked her open and slid two fingers to her G-spot. Adriana screamed into Danielle’s cunt and squirted hard, soaking Danielle’s chin and chest. Danielle drank what she could and laughed, wrecked and delighted, and curled her fingers again until Adriana fountained a second time and went limp and shaking on top of her.

They did not stop. Sweat gathered under their breasts and in the smalls of their backs. They drank water with shaking hands. They kissed the taste of each other off their mouths, slow and filthy, then desperate again. They slicked the double-ended dildo and sank onto it from either side, inch by inch, eyes locked, until the thick toy filled both waxed pussies and their clits met around the middle. They rocked. They fucked themselves on it and fucked each other through it, the recording catching two women still half-caught in the ruins of tight dresses, moaning, the toy disappearing into both of them. Danielle bit Adriana’s long nipple while they rode, teeth and suction together, and Adriana came squirting around the dildo, G-spot hammered, thighs shaking, voice gone hoarse from screaming. Danielle followed, grinding down, crying Adriana’s name into her throat.

Hours blurred and they refused to let them end. Adriana went to her knees on the rug again because Danielle asked and because she wanted to, and she ate her new girlfriend until Danielle was sobbing and squirting into her mouth, one hand braced on the bookshelf beside the phone, watching herself be taken. Danielle returned the favor on the edge of the bed, tongue all the way inside Adriana, licking her G-spot from within until Adriana fountained and clutched blond hair and screamed at the ceiling. They tribbed again, slower, then harder, clits swollen and slippery, breasts sticky, nipples bitten red. They sixty-nined until their jaws ached and they still did not want to quit. Whenever one of them glanced at the lens, she smiled, claiming the footage, wanting it kept, wanting it played back.

By the fifth hour Adriana was on her back with Danielle’s whole pussy in her mouth again, tongue buried deep, nose pressed to her clit, taking her, owning the taste, while Danielle fingered Adriana’s G-spot and bent to bite the long nipples whenever she could reach. They came together, messy and screaming, the double-ended dildo waiting slick on the sheet for the next round, which came, and the next, and the next. Danielle tore the last clinging strip of black dress off Adriana’s shoulder with her teeth. Adriana answered by hauling the red scraps down Danielle’s arms and throwing them to the floor. On her knees once more, Adriana sucked and licked until Danielle’s voice broke into a raw, endless cry, the kind that filled the apartment and the recording both. Seven hours of never-ending sex, girlfriend and girlfriend, raw and wanted, every act answered with yes and more and don’t you dare stop.

When the seventh hour finally loosened its grip, they collapsed in a tangle of sweat and spit and come, bodies still twitching with aftershocks. Adriana’s long nipples were swollen from biting. Danielle’s thighs jumped every time Adriana’s fingers drifted near her oversensitive, waxed pussy. They kissed softly, lazy and possessive, whispering my girlfriend against each other’s mouths while the phone, still theirs, still wanted, played back the loudest clips. Adriana watched herself on her knees, mouth stretched around Danielle, and felt the wanting stir even through the exhaustion. Danielle traced the mark of her own teeth and murmured that this was exclusive now, not a dare, not a roommate’s almost. Adriana said yours and meant it, caressing the curve of Danielle’s hip like a promise of every night still ahead. Even as she kissed blond hair, her mind was already moving. Tomorrow she would book the corner suite with the mirror and the thicker toy they had not dared tonight, text a time, demand an even tighter dress, and clear another seven hours. She was already scheming the next time, smiling, nowhere near finished.