Scratched Out Heart

Angelique rolls her eyes. "You choose, Kimi."

The little slump of disappointment in her wife's face, then, breaks Kimiko's heart. Even a supermodel has pride to bruise. So, she makes her choice. She turns to Angelique, wrapping arms around her and kissing her. Angelique whimpers in her hug and her body nudges like a hungry cat.

The men circle. Even from the depth of her wife's embrace Kim feels the swell of their heat as they spiral in. Thick fingers stroke her back. Both women jump and squawk, and then gasp over each other's tongues as the men close in and wrap around them. Rough chins nuzzle and kiss her back, dropping to her bottom, probing under.

"No." She closes her legs. "Only my wife gets to lick me."

Angelique translates. The men groan. Craven fronts slide up smooth backs. Hot rock nestles between her bottom cheeks, soft-hard swellings beneath. She feels like she's leant against a heavy-laden fruit tree. Surely, it's all too big.

Angelique shivers against Kimiko, then curses, then swings her hips back and forth. Kimiko swallows, opens her legs and tips up her bottom.

The man drops, then gently presses his thick bluntness to her hole. Angelique's fingers slide under her, controlled even in her bliss, and open her up. The hardness rocks once at her entrance. A French exclamation, and he sinks fluidly, effortlessly deep into her.

Kimiko cries out, profoundly filled, parts of her she didn't know she had lighting up. Goldenrod is cold lead next to this. It slides out and the plunge of its return brings a smile to her face. The embers of her last orgasm flare brighter with each thrust. Angelique rocks with her and, gripping Kimiko's hips as if in a dance, matches her beat until, feverishly, it's as if Angelique is perfectly plugging her and she can't tell who is leading the pace. It might even be Kimiko herself, pushing quicker and harder onto that delicious, irrepressible member and minutes melt away measured only by the slap of buttocks at unstoppable hips and the woman can't even kiss anymore, their jaws slack. Panting. Then in less than a handful of deep puffs Angelique's eyelids droop. "Kimi. Cum. Cum."

Having her wife quake in her arms sets Kimiko off. She gives into the heavenly deep-rub between her legs, lets it ignite a glittering shower over her skin. The women wedge lips together and squeal into a kiss as frantic as two ends of a live wire shoved together.

The chaos of their kiss soon bursts into hilarity. Though the men show no signs of amusement or of quitting. If anything, having the women cum seems to have set these Ferraris into another gear. They take control, pummelling fast and so hard Kimiko and Angelique get the giggles at being flung up and down.

Angelique barks something in French and the men withdraw. She plucks a last kiss to Kimiko and turns around to face her model. Kim follows suit and back-to-back they grip hands. Kimiko's model is sheened in sweat, and Christ, dripping off his balls, is that... her? He smiles. Winks. And, just as Angelique appears to take to the air behind her, he grips Kimiko's bottom and hoists her up, too, throwing her legs around his hips. He lowers her onto his slippery rod.

The huge models are working for their own climax now, thrusting like pistons with perfect rhythm once more so each "Oh" that is plunged from Angelique is mirrored from Kimiko's own mouth. The men are machine-monsters, ramming Kimiko and Angelique, limp as dolls, on thrust-needy cocks. Tectonic moans rumble from the model's chest, trembles build between Kimiko's thighs. She releases Angelique and grasps at the tight bunches of her fuck-monster's chest and arms, as if rubbing and squeezing him into her. She can't take any more, mouth gaping at the ceiling, leaning back into Angelique's writhing spine, against her joggling bottom, but Angelique can't rescue her from the pile-driver ramming more pleasure into her. Then more. And more. She's full. Too much. Angelique yabbers, "Yes-yes-yes." But Kimiko... can't possibly... can't—

She screams. Her body flowers open and open and open until it fills the entire room. Angelique lets go too and howls with her so even though they are back-to-back and each worked by someone else, the slamming men disappear and Kimiko and Angelique are curled into each other back on the lakeside. Their orgasm a single pumping heart.

As Kimiko's rush ebbs, she is still being tossed insanely on her man's hungry cock. She locks her feet around his waist and chews her hips. In a speeding heartbeat, the men roar and arch onto their toes and hot jets fill where her climax left her empty. She grinds down on it, prolonging her own pleasure but also calm and aloof, enjoying the pop of veins and the flayed fibres of muscle all over his body as he spasms up into her. His guttural French hisses through gritted teeth.

Angelique drops. Kimiko drops. Lowered by their men back to the ground, where they droop powerless to their knees. She wants to turn and kiss Angelique but is too spent, and either way, her wife's tell-tale hum and a French curse suggest her mouth might be involved somewhere else.

Kimiko looks up at her man, muscles still engorged from his work out, eyes still closed, sighing out his climax. His glossy cock nods while a lazy drop of cum rolls out and down his length and, as she salivates in some fucked-up primal response, Kimiko realises she might not be entirely done with men just yet. At least not this one. She bites her lip. Oh why not. She leans forward, takes one lap up his slick meat and then gobbles the taut bulb into her mouth, immediately rewarded by a burst of French and a dirtily thrilling pulse of thick, liquid heat over her tongue. She sucks gently, nods slowly. What was softening starts to re-harden. She knows she's good at this, let's see if she can get another-

White. Then the lakeside glade. Angelique looks like a whale, hauling herself and her great belly from the water onto the granite shelf. She's stuck, arms loosening with laughter. "You made it look so easy!" she complains.

A tiny paw presses outward from the drum of Kimiko's own swollen stomach as if to offer help. It still makes her lightheaded to think that they have the same due date, and that in a strange disconnected way their children will be twins, even though they won't look the same.

Kimiko leans against a tree, hiding her handiwork, ready for the big reveal. A love-heart carved-

White. Then, "Push!"

This was just fucking stupid. Birthing together. Whose god-damned fucking stupid fucking idea was-

White. Then Kimiko is watching from their bedroom window while a plump little blonde girl -Elaine- chases a dark one -Mizuki- around the lawns, their laughter as sparkly as the sunlight on the lake. They see their Mums watching and jump and wave, then carry on chasing with renewed energy.

Angelique puts an arm round her. It fidgets on her hip. Kimiko turns. Her wife has got that look on her. Good.

"Think they can see your lower-half from down there?" She whispers and immediately unfastens Kimiko's trousers. She drops to her knees behind her, yanking them down along with her underwear. Kimiko kicks off her clothing, bends over -

#

Kimiko withdraws from the light, Angelique pulling her back. The images still flash inverted against the darkness, the future-ghost of Angelique's tongue still wriggles inside her and her children's laughter rings her skull like a bell.

"The universe doesn't care," Sachiko says, shrinking away from her even as Kimiko struggles against Angelique's gentle but insistent pull. "But we do. And we can influence its randomness from here. That's all luck is. Lost love-ones tweaking probabilities." The light is smaller than Kimiko's palm, now. Her sister has to shout. "You watched over me all my life, sweet Sis, until the illness took me. Now let me watch over you. And your family." She smiles and waves. "Our family."

Kimiko jolts awake, heart charging, breath rasping in a new darkness. Then the blessed beeping. Then edges crystallise and she's back in the hospital bed. It's night-time.

"Sachiko?" she says to the air. There's no reply.

But, for once, there are no tears, either.

Beside Kimiko, half on top of her, Angelique softly snores.