Tonight, I tell you about Michelle’s and my lesbian accomplice play.

Every so often, Michelle and I get rowdy; of course, this leads to heated lesbian accomplice play. Our night starts with a lot of drinking. We start with getting ourselves made up, our hair done, and looking nice and fine in tight-fitting clothes. Then, we arrive at the bar and a little tipsy. Usually, we reserve a booth where we both drink and start making out. Of course, this usually leads to some dumb guy thinking he wants to be in the middle of us.

Of course, we give him signals. “Not interested,” Michelle says. Then, she continues to rub her pantyhosed foot against my leg. 

When he tries to ask again, I glare at him. “Certainly not,” I snap at him. “You’re a guy. I like women. I like soft breasts and curves. Most importantly, I don’t want a penis tonight.” I flip my hair at him, trying to get him to pick up on any cues that this is a dismissal. 

As I suspected, my cues do not hold up against the power of an interested, aroused dick. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he retorts, sitting down at our table and drinking Michelle’s beer. 

Both of us trade glances with each other. Unlike my disgust, Michelle’s eyes are narrowed. My eyes widen for a moment. With a nod of her head, she confirms what I’m thinking. She already has a plan for him. That is to say, she already has a plan of leaving him high and dry– if not dead. 

Because that’s what really turns her on. In our lesbian accomplice play, I am always Michelle’s accomplice. She always does what she wants.

Getting Him to Her Farm

It doesn’t take much to invite him. We give in and pretend we’re exasperated at the idea of a cock. Michelle overdoes it with the sigh. “Fine, fine,” she agrees. “Then, you might as well come back with us. If you can get Elise to come in the car ride back to my place, then we can talk.” 

He piles in the backseat of Michelle’s SUV. “We could stop along the way,” he offers. His eyes rake over my short top. To placate him, I put my hand on his thigh, biting my lip. 

“Not interested in snowy outdoor sex, thanks,” Michelle says. “Elise. You keep him comfortable, understand?” 

The man grinned, but I knew what that meant. Comfortable meant he wasn’t able to come. Comfortable meant he wasn’t going to come this whole night. Aroused, on the verge of coming– that means a man is stupid. And men are so much easier to control when they’re hard and stupid. 

For example, he’d left his phone and wallet at the bar. He didn’t even notice I’d taken them out of his pocket and left them on the barstool. 

So I crawl onto his lap and take off my shirt. I crawl against him. Of course, as I predicted, he stares at my chest and his hands move to my breasts. “Soft,” he breathes. 

Meanwhile, Michelle’s eyes stay focused on the road. However, in the small space of the car, I can smell her desire.

“So are my lips,” I tell our victim. Then I press our mouths together, giving Michelle a show.

Arriving at Her Den

With Michelle, I never know if our lesbian accomplice play is going dark. Sometimes we use up a man until he’s a crying mess. Sometimes we get them to beg to come and never give it to him. We’ve left men broken in front of a hospital before. She knows cops. Corrupt cops and they never ask her. 

Sometimes, men don’t come back from her farm. 

However, that’s for Michelle to decide. I’m just an extension of her right now, and that’s the part I love. I love how she commands me around. I love how she demands I fuck a guy. She knows I’m soft and nonthreatening; men come flock to me like sheep. It’s easy for Michelle, a wolf, to go ahead and strike. 

“Feels nice, baby,” he mutters, and I hear the familiar sound of cattle guards beneath the car. 

We’re at the barn, a fun little revamped workshop she’s made. She pulls up next to it and gets out of the car. The guy doesn’t want to stop macking on my neck. “I’m so close,” he whines. 

I shush him. “There are more toys inside,” I promise him. And as I say that, Michelle opens up the garage door, revealing all sorts of goodies. Unsurprisingly, his eyes go wide as he sees the cages, whips, cuffs, benches, and restraints. 

“So many toys,” he mutters and gets out of the car. He takes a few steps forward. From the corner of my eye, I see Michelle move behind him, a cattle prod in her hand. 

“So many,” she agrees. The cattle prod comes down over his head.

 

Want to be a victim of lesbian accomplice play on your own personal phone call? Then call me up, and let’s get talking to more phone sex girls!

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