“Let’s… cut to the chase.”
Sasha’s hesitant delivery had betrayed her attempt at confidence. Sabrina melodramatically raised an eyebrow to call her friend’s bluff. “Yes, let’s. Why aren’t we meeting at the bar tonight?”
Sasha took a deep breath, her eyes studiously looking anywhere in the apartment living room rather than Sabrina’s face. Her cheeks flushed. Normally, Sabrina would’ve attributed it entirely to embarrassment, but there was a subtle note to her friend’s expression that she couldn’t quite pick out. Distraction?
“You remember Brianna, right? From back in college?”
“Tiny brunette chick, majored in… architecture, I think?”
“That’s her. So… the chase. Cutting to it. We hooked up.”
Sasha’s pansexuality wasn’t a secret, nor was the fact that it extended to people of any size. Sabrina would’ve interrupted with a bitingly clever remark to that effect – you’d have to take her word on that – but Sasha barreled on, not even thinking about the wit she’d deprived herself of with her next words.
“We hooked up last night… um, and counting,” she said as her voice trailed quietly, anxiously upward.
Sabrina’s mind spun frantically, struggling to think of any appropriate response to that bombshell. After an interminably long second, she settled on something brief, simple, and eloquent.
“What.”
Sasha bit her lip. “That’s not the important part.” At Sabrina’s dumbfounded look -- miraculously, even more bewildered than before – she quickly tried to elaborate. “I mean, obviously that’s important, but it’s not the important part.”
“Seriously? What could possibly be more critical than the fact that there’s someone apparently fucking you right now?” Then Sabrina’s eyes widened. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Suddenly, it was Sasha’s turn to be flabbergasted. “What? No! How would that even…”
Sabrina started giggling uncontrollably. “Sorry! Sorry! It’s just… I mean…” They made eye contact. There was a hint of a pause.
They both cracked at the same time. Sabrina’s cackle filled the little apartment like it was getting ready to move in. Sasha’s laughter was a little higher, a little more whimsical, and it was piercing like Cupid’s arrow was piercing. Sabrina could have listened to it forever, but she was forced to stop when Sasha’s paroxysms shook her off the couch, her long, blond hair flying out in all directions as she sprawled on the floor. The fall jolted her hysterics into something that felt, at the same time, both smoother and rougher than before.
“I’m fine… I’m fine,” Sasha gasped between uncontrollable fits of laughter. “It’s just… Ohhh... I think… she might have – oh my god! – run into… a sensitive spot… just now.”
Sabrina struggled to bring herself back under control. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. And that… is the important part.”
“What is?”
Sasha sat up. She took a deep breath, and then another, and then another, centering herself so she could explain. “I can’t get her out.”
Sabrina tried to sound solemn. “I repeat myself: are you serious?” She really tried. But she couldn’t hold it in, and an aftershock of giggles erupted out of her.
“It’s not funny, Sabrina!”
“Are you kidding? This is absolutely, one hundred percent hilarious.”
But Sasha was not, apparently, in the mood for objective analysis of the situation, and she sat there, pouting silently, until Sabrina gave in. “Okay, fine. It’s not one hundred percent hilarious. What happened, and what do you need?”
* * *
Sabrina needed a moment or three let Sasha’s recap sink in. “Let me get everything straight here. In the course of you and Brianna hooking up last night, you made a bet about whether or not she could make you come?”
“Yes.”
“First of all, that’s a little sizist.” Sasha tried to object, but Sabrina plowed on undeterred. “Second, the bet was specifically in terms of her being able to stay inside your pussy until you orgasmed?”
Sasha’s cheeks reddened, but she nodded.
“She hasn’t been able to make you come, but she won’t come out until you do or else she loses the bet. You can’t make yourself come or else you lose the bet. And – and I just want to make sure I understand this correctly – there are no stakes here whatsoever other than personal pride?”
“Um… yes.”
Sabrina cupped her face in her palms. “Christ,” she muttered. “And you said you need me to be a tiebreaker.” first, she had naively thought this would simply be something of a rescue mission – a wet, hot, and uncomfortably gynecological one, but a straightforward idea nonetheless. But now, she was being asked to save two horny, stubborn idiots from themselves. She was certain she was going to regret asking, but by now curiosity impelled her. “What – exactly – would that entail?”
Sasha, already blushing more furiously than Sabrina could believe possible, somehow managed to turn two shades to a vibrant scarlet. “Well, neither Brianna or I would win if you made me come, so…”
“Christ.”
“Will you help?”
Sabrina hesitated, but (to her own surprise) only for a moment. “You’re going to owe me. So much.” Her eyes jumped around the room before settling on a cabinet next to the kitchen. “Starting with that bottle of vodka. I’m gonna need a down payment first.”
* * *
After consulting with a few shots of Ketel One, Sabrina decided that the most efficient and safest way to end the stalemate would be to make the tiebreaking decision orally. Any dildo or vibrator could’ve been delivered by Sasha, at least as far as Brianna would be able to tell, and Sasha was being admirably scrupulous in adhering to the rules of the bet. And in any case, using a dildo would pose a much greater risk to Brianna than using a tongue. Safety first!
And in that safety-minded spirit, it occurred to Sabrina that they should make sure Brianna knew what they were doing before beginning. In the second-most surreal moment of her life, Sabrina placed her head between the legs of her overstimulated friend, used her fingers to pry open the muscles of a worked up vagina, and spoke into it like it was old-fashioned telephone. “Brianna? Did you catch any of that?”
And in the most surreal moment of Sabrina’s life, a small voice answered from the depths of a pussy. Through the tight clutches of Sasha’s aroused Kegels, it sounded much more distant than a few inches away, but the words came through clear enough.
“I did. Bring it!”
Well, okay then.
* * *
“I did. Bring it!”
Anyone who thought Brianna would be tired after blockading herself in a vagina for almost twenty-four hours did not know Brianna. And anyone who thought Brianna would be nervous about being at ground zero while one giant girl gave head to another definitely didn’t know Brianna. But fortunately, as far as Brianna was concerned, you don’t need to know her.
All that mattered was that, biblically speaking, Brianna was going to get to know her old college acquaintances very, very well.
Sasha’s vagina was dark and tight, and there was no way for Brianna to see what Sabrina was doing, which was super unfortunate for Brianna. (Except for the part about being the third vertex in a giantess three-way, of course. That wasn’t so bad.) On the other hand, she was definitely able to feel what Sabrina was doing, and that was very much on the fortunate side. Technically, Brianna wasn’t feeling what Sabrina was doing per se, however much the thought of riding a tongue big enough to ride like a fucking bronco sent tingles down her spine. But she could, in fact, feel the tingles that were clearly being induced in Sasha.
There was a meter to it. Ocean waves were surging onto the shore, over and over. The meditative properties of watching the surf crash against the sand are generally experienced from the safety of the beach. Brianna was caught in the tide.
Ravenous muscles consumed her, pulling and squeezing with abandon. It was hot, and black, and soaking wet in Sasha’s cunt. Its embrace seemed like the eternal grip of a python. And maybe it was the extended state of hypoxia speaking, but an eternity in there would have suited Brianna just fine.
Sadly, spending an eternity as the sexual plaything of a gorgeous young blonde the size of a skyscraper was not to be.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that hell broke loose when Sabrina brought Sasha to climax. In the first place, it wasn’t so much chaos as it was straitjacketing order. Muscles clenched with a will, holding Brianna so tightly that she could hardly move. The bass thumping of Sasha’s heightened pulse pounded rhythmically through her entire body.
And in the second place, it was the closest thing to heaven that Brianna could’ve asked for.
* * *
Sabrina and Sasha sat across from each other at the dining table in the small kitchen. Brianna was sitting on Sasha’s shoulder, half-hidden under a blanket of golden hair. Despite clear signs of exhaustion, she was balancing herself quite well, considering that the woman underneath her was still in a post-orgasmic state of careless relaxation. Also, they’d both celebrated the equitable end of their bet with a toast to mutual victory, and Sabrina was begrudgingly impressed that neither of them had fallen down drunk after the third toast.
That didn’t mean, however, that she wasn’t still annoyed at them. “I don’t suppose you’ve learned anything from this, have you?”
Brianna shrugged. “I learned… that we should’ve hung out more in college? I had no idea you were so good with your tongue.”
Sasha, at least, did her best to give her friend the answer she was looking for. But her best was still a little tipsy. “I learned a valuable lesson about gambling and the power of friendship.”
Sabrina raised an eyebrow. “Which was?”
“Um… if you make a bet about your vagina, you need to be ready to put your money where your mouth is, and maybe also to put your tiny friend where your other friend’s mouth is. Or… I guess that should be ‘put your friend’s mouth where your tiny friend is, which is your vagina, which you made the bet about.’” Sasha stopped herself there. “To be fair, Sabrina, you waited till I was drunk to ask.”
Sabrina let out a theatrically pained sigh. “That’s… fair. Let me join you.” Sasha passed her the bottle of liquor. “Brianna, if I let you pick the toast, am I going regret it?”
Brianna put as much thought as was necessary to answer truthfully, and answered instantly. “Probably!”
Sabrina’s shot glass was big enough for a double. What the hell, why not? She did, however, pour herself nearly enough bourbon for Brianna to take a swim before committing to it.
“Okay, then. Shoot.”
The three of them raised their glasses, and Brianna took the lead. “To Sabrina: who saved the day through the power of sex!”
Clink.