What are Friends for Ch. 02

"Good to see you too, Jase."

"Your skin is literally glowing!"

Quinn smiled at Trish over his shoulder as Jason moved to hug her too, and their hug lingered. Trish blushed and took a deep breath.

"How far along are you?"

"Nineteen weeks."

"What is that in, like, real people time?

"Four and a half months," Quinn said.

"Pregnancy suits you!"

"I have to go to the bathroom," Trish said, ducking and turning down the hall.

Jason turned, watching his sister go out of the corner of his eye, and smiled. "I'll tell you what, though, she is huge."

***

"So," Jason said, "how did that work? Did the clinic bring the guy in so that he could, you know, do you both? Or was it two different guys?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

***

"Have you had any cravings yet?" Jason asked.

Trish and Quinn just looked at each other. They'd both experienced cravings, but not the kind that they could share.

"Judging by your sister's ankles," Mrs Smith said with a smirk, "I'd say so."

"I'll be right back."

***

Jason cleared his throat. "Can you answer a question for me?"

"Sure," Quinn said.

"Was it, like, a big relief when you realized that both your last names were already Smith? Like, did that take the pressure off figuring out which one of you was going to take the man's name? Or whatever?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

***

"I still can't figure out what possessed you two to try and get pregnant at the same time."

"We wanted to get it over with," Quinn said, stepping in while Trish bit down hard on her lip. "We wanted to go through it once, together...ish... and then be done."

"Mmm," was all Mrs. Smith replied.

"And then they'd be around the same age, so they'd have each other."

"Mmmm."

Trish looked over at Quinn, and quietly mouthed "three", and then "two".

"I just can't figure out what made you think that was a good idea."

"Excuse me," Trish said, as she slid out of her chair.

***

"So what are you working on now?"

Trish paused, fork halfway to her mouth, while her mother waited somewhat-short-of-patiently. "Um... well..."

"Maybe the better question is are you working on anything right now?"

"I have to go to the—"

"Patricia Ann, you sit back down!"

Trish dropped back into her chair with a thump, shocked.

"I swear," Mrs. Smith snarled, "you've spent the whole afternoon waddling back and forth between here and the bathroom. You can hold it for ten more minutes while we eat."

Quinn scooted her chair a little sideways and reached over to take Trish's hand. Trish immediately reversed her grip and brought the two hands into her lap. Although it hadn't been her intention to start, they had perfect synchronicity between them as Trish widened her legs ever so slightly, and Quinn began pulling back on her wife's skirt. Inching the fabric farther and farther.

"So? Are you?"

Quinn was not at all surprised to feel that Trish had abandoned her panties entirely, likely because they'd been soaked through. She loved how Trish had let her hair grow in a little thicker since getting pregnant. She paused, with her fingers curled over the mound, and smiled. The Brunette was giving off heat like a furnace.

"Y-yes," Trish stammered, as the Blonde furrowed her lips with two fingers. "It's a um it's a um..."

Trish's clit was bigger than hers. Big enough to get underneath the pad of her finger and drive around and around like a little joystick.

"It's a," Mrs. Smith said, glaring.

Trish blinked and shook her head quickly. "It's a twist on Ssssudoku puzzles. For Android. Instead of blocks of eighty one, though, it has... different sized boards. Sometimes different characters instead of numbers, and different shaped sections instead of always squaaa-aares"

"I love sudoku," Jason said, suddenly finding interest.

Trish made a face somewhere between a grimace and a grin. "Yeah, it's uh..."

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Are you stroking off right now?"

Trish meeped.

"I think you mean 'stroking out'," Jason said.

"Whatever! Are you having a stroke?!"

"No," Trish said, shaking her head. "I just reallyreallyreally need to pee."

"Oh for Heaven's sake. Grant?"

"Let the girl pee, dear," Mr. Smith said, barely looking up from his food. His wife threw up her hands in frustration.

"Thank you, Daddy," Trish squeaked.

Quinn smiled as she watched her wife scurried around the corner, but instead of hurrying into the downstairs bathroom, Trish continued on down the hall and went upstairs. Quinn pretended to drop a bite of turkey into her lap, and then used eating that as a pretense to be able to lick her fingers clean. "Mmmmm," Quinn said, smiling furtively.

"Does she have a UTI?"

"What?" Quinn gasped. "No?"

"Jesus, Mom!" Jason used his fork to gesture to his food, with a 'come on!' expression.

"She's peeing an awful lot."

"It's just the pregnancy," Quinn said. Mrs. Smith stared after her daughter for a moment longer before turning that scrutinizing gaze on Quinn. "I'm sure she's fine."

Quinn sat quietly, enjoying the mediocre, underseasoned food as much as she could while Jason and Mr. Smith jawed about a different kind of sportsball. She vigorously fought down the idea that she and Mrs. Smith should be having a side conversation that catered to their own shared interests, first and foremost because she was pretty sure they had none and secondly because Mrs. Smith was likely to make it toxic somehow.

After several minutes, Quinn began to wonder if maybe Mrs. Smith was right for the wrong reasons. "I'm going to go check on Trish," she said, dabbing at her lip.

"She's probably hiding."

Quinn nodded sheepishly and got up, having to brace herself more heavily on the armrests of the chair than she was used to. Her own center of gravity was starting to shift, though she struggled nowhere near as much as Trish did. She kept one hand on the railing, just for safe measure, as she trudged upstairs.

"Trish," she said, pitching her voice low so as not to carry. The light was off in the bathroom. "Trish!"

"Over here," Trish whispered back, surprising Quinn from behind. Quinn followed her back into her parent's bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked. "You look like you're walking funny."

Trish smiled over her shoulder. "I know."

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"Shhh!" Trish took her hand and led her into her parent's bathroom and shut the door.

"I thought we didn't bring anything?"

"We didn't." Trish smiled broadly. "I improvised." She winced as she raised her left leg,placed it on the edge of the bathtub, and gathered her skirt in her hands. Quinn had to get down on one knee to see, and for a long moment, all she could do was stare at the small black plastic cylinder just barely poking out from between Trish's slick folds.

"What is that?"

"The tip of the iceberg," Trish said, grinning as she massaged her clit. "That's my dad's shampoo bottle." Every time her fingers swirled, she pulled her lips this way and that. Quinn was instantly mesmerized. "He buys bigger bottles than he used to. God bless Sam's Club."

Quinn squealed, and covered her mouth. "Oh my god! You've done that before?"

"Are you kidding me? I put everything in this house in there. Everything."

"That's amazing!"

"Well, all the things I could clean before-and-after anyway."

"Still," Quinn said distractedly. "Is that safe?"

Trish smiled even more widely. "My mom is on this big organic kick in here. All the toothpastes and makeups are cruelty-free, and vegan, and blah blah blah. Plus I washed it off real good."

"Can I see it?"

Trish bit her lip and smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." As soon as she held out her hand, Quinn's was there to grip it. Trish grunted softly, hips squirming, as she pushed ever so gently. Quinn had a hard time not staring; Trish's inner lips were very full. Long. Perfect for nibbling.

"It's just going to fall right out of you," Quinn said, her eyes going large. "That's how fucking loose you are."

"Fuck," Trish groaned, nodding. She squeezed Quinn's hand and pushed more, and with a heavy groan the white plastic bottle rifled out of her and bounced off the shower mat below. "Ohhh fuck." Her fingers moved faster, swiping back and forth over her sensitive bud. The blonde immediately scooped up the bottle and held it in her hand. Getting a feel for the girth.

"We're going to need to have a net underneath you so that Peanut doesn't fall out on its little head."

"Fuck!" Trish groaned.

Quinn smiled, watching in awe as Trish alternated between feathering her clit and fisting herself.

"I barely even feel my hand anymore. It's just not big enough."

"I am so jealous right now," Quinn said, squeezing Trish's hand. "My hips are just not built like yours."

"You say that like I didn't have both of my hands inside you this morning."

"You have small hands."

Trish stuck her tongue out, and they both giggled. "God, I'm so fucking horny," Trish moaned.

"Well let's see what else we can use."

"I'm telling you. If there's something even vaguely the right shape to fit inside me, I've tried it." Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. "Most of it, I could fit before I moved out." Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk.

"What about that shower head?" Quinn asked, pointing. "'Isn't that new?"

Trish grinned. "I already tried. I could probably fit it if I could lay on top of something five feet tall, but otherwise I'm too short to get it to reach down and then back up inside." Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. She shook her head. "If I weren't pregnant, I'd probably try standing on the sides of the tub to get my hips a little higher, but I don't want to risk falling."

"Okay," Quinn said. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. "Okay." She got up and paced around the small room. After a few moments, she squatted down in front of the sink and opened up the cabinet there. Meanwhile, Trish brought both feet down flat on the floor and sat down on the same spot on the edge of the tub where her foot had been seconds earlier. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk.

"We should have brought a toy," Trish whined. "Fuck, why didn't we do that?"

"New rule," Quinn said. "We bring the Titan plug everywhere."

Trish nodded enthusiastically, and sighed with a lazy kind of happy smile. "I love the Titan." Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk.

Quinn smiled to herself as she rooted around beneath the sink. "Doesn't it feel good to fill up that gaping cunt? I mean, it's pretty rare at this point that we can get you off with just one of anything."

"Fuuck yooou," Trish groaned. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk.

"We'd need at least two of your mom's bottles of shampoo, or one and this cordless razor." She smirked at Trish as she turned it on, and the room echoed with its angry buzz. "That could be nice."

"Can't put that in," Trish whined. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. "It'd get it soaked."

Quinn rose from her crouch, with the razor still humming in her hand, and smiled as she crossed the few steps between them. Flipped it around in her hand, so that the covered blade was near her palm and the contoured rubber grip extended past her fingertips. Trish gasped loudly as it pressed against her, vibrating furiously. The sound dulled somewhat under pressure, but it was still thrumming powerfully in her hand.

"Oooh fuck," Trish moaned. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk. Sklrk-sklrk-sklrk.

Quinn dropped down to her knees, keeping the butt end of the razor in place. The brunette widened her legs a little. She watched Trish's fist coming nearly out, to the widest part of her palm, before curling back in over and over. She brought her empty right hand up and pushed two fingers in very slowly beside Trish's hand.

"Oh fuck. Yes. Do that."

"I can't help but feel like we're playing with dynamite," Quinn said with a grin.. "Like at any moment, Peanut is just going to slide down in my palm, and I'll just pull 'em out."

"Fuuuuck!"

"We're gonna think your water breaking is just you squirting really hard, and then suddenly Peanut is going to pop out and say hello."

Trish bit down hard on her lip, face turning very red, as she orgasmed. Her feet came up off the ground, knees reaching toward her shoulders, and Quinn immediately dropped the razor to brace her and keep her from falling in either direction.

"Fuckfuckfckfuck," Trish whined.

"They're gonna be talking in full sentences at like ten weeks," Quinn said, smiling and kissing Trish's sweat-covered brow. "With a mother as smart as you..."

"JesusChristILoveYou," Trish half-gasped, half-laughed. "Ohfuck."

But Quinn didn't stop. Two fingers became three. Three begat four, and the thumb made it a fist. She just held it there, nestled tightly and buried to the wrist, while Trish heaved and swelled. Shoulders rising and falling. Swollen breasts pushing out, up, and over the rim of the bra that had once fit her so well.

"Fucking ruin me," Trish moaned.

Quinn's face split in a grin. She opened her hand for a moment, fingers wrapping around the back of Trish's hand. Inside of Trish. Guiding her hand back. Pulling out together. Both hands clenched tightly in a mass of palms, fingers, and thumbs.

"JesusChrist."

Both hands moving slowly. Stretching. In and out. Pulling. Trish's cheeks puffed out, still bright red, as she tried to slow her breathing against the onslaught to her senses. Against the assault on her walls. Straining.

"JeeeesusChrist."

Nearly coming all the way out. Only pulling back until the base, the root, of Quinn's thumb slid from inside wet, pink lips, and then pushing back in. Past Quinn's wrist. Right to the edge of Trish's wrist.

"Should I try for one more?"

"OhGodYes."

Quinn pulled her hand free, leaving Trish's right alone inside of her, and reached for Trish's purse. There was always lube in Trish's purse. She thumbed open the cap and squirted a dollop onto her already-wet hand, put the bottle back, and then smeared it everywhere. Spread it around and over her fingers, and across the back of her hands. Past her wrists. Trish fisted herself more vigorously, whimpering as she pummeled herself, and only slowed down when Quinn settled back between her legs.

"First one," Quinn said, as she slid her right hand in. She curled her fingers around the back of Trish's hand, palm pressed against the back, and gripped it. Slight twist to her arm to match the angle of Trish's. Trish puffed and puffed, taking short, fast breaths. Eyes closed shut. "Now, ordinarily, I would preface this with 'this is going to hurt', but it's not. Not as much as it should."

"Fuuuuuck," Trish groaned, as Quinn pushed her left hand in. Fingers interlacing on top of fingers. All three hands together in a knot. Sweat beaded from every pore, giving Trish's face a glorious shine. Wavy brown hair matted, clinging erratically to her brow, cheeks, and nose.

"Such a well-used hole."

"Fuckyes!"

"So fucking loose."

Quinn smiled, both hands clenched tightly around Trish's. Moving all three together. Trish had to plant the toes of her shoes more firmly on the tile floor, to either side of the shower mat Quinn knelt on, to keep her balance every time the amalgam of fists pulled at her. Slow and steady.

Trish grabbed at the neck of her loose-fitting shirt and pulled down. Her swollen left breast, already looking for an excuse to pour from her bra, leapt out, and Quinn was only too happy to crane forward and suckle. Gentle massage, with her lips curled in over her teeth. Trish had always had sensitive nipples, but they'd grown even more so in the last couple months. The flesh of her areolae had darkened and widened, stretching as Trish's breasts had filled in. Gentle suction, coming in waves. Drawing the hardened tip deeper. Forming a tight seal, and using her tongue to create vacuum.

Faint, creamy sweetness on her tongue. Very small amounts. Actual milk would come soon.

"Ohfuckyes," Trish whimpered. She tried to get her left hand down to touch her clit, but her belly proved too large an obstacle to get around. "OhItFeelsSoGoodToBeFull." Quinn watched the frustration rising on her face, and knew that not being able to reach would be its own kind of stimulation. To make up for it, Quinn thrust her arms just a little bit faster. Shallow, staying well away from the cervix, but faster.

She knew the depths of Trish's cunt well.

"OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!"

Quinn kept the suction up until she'd gathered a small puddle of sweet, yellow fluid on her tongue, and then happily sat back on her heels with her mouth wide open. Trish's face went from red to purple. Eyes wavering. Lids flickering.

"IcanthurdurtIcanthurdurt!"

"Don't," Quinn said. She swallowed and sighed happily. "Cum."

What followed was nearly a minute of spasmodic, un-enunciated warbling as Trish came hard. She curled in tightly on herself, breasts resting atop her swollen, distended belly. Her legs twitched and clenched, knees coming against Quinn's shoulders. Trish's wavy hair bounced and danced, following as her head did much the same. Rolling from side to side.

Quinn watched for the moment of greatest weakness, the moment when Trish's eyes disappeared upwards, and pulled back. The three tightly-clenched fists came out as one. Trish's blood red lips lips went white as the pressure drove out the blood. As soon as they were exposed, Quinn leaned to the side and delivered a single, cupped-hand slap right over Trish's spread lips. The echo was thunderous within the small bathroom, and Trish did not do a particularly good job of keeping quiet.

Once Trish stopped shaking, Quinn leaned forward and buried her face in Trish's cunt. Her nose brushed back and forth over Trish's clit, and such was Trish's gape that the bottom of her chin was inside of Trish. Her tongue slid along the roof of Trish's cave, feathering Trish's hypersensitive G-spot. Trish had to reach back and plant a hand against the far wall of the shower, barely keeping her grip with her one dry hand while Quinn ate her out. Devouring the fluids inside of her one tongue-load at a time. Trish orgasmed again and again, body contorting and twisting. Legs flexing.

Quinn kept at it, teasing that sacred spot through one more powerful wave before slowing. Coming back to suckle and nibble on Trish's outer folds. Cleaning them. Pinching and squeezing them between her teeth, and licking every drop of Trish's thick, white cum. Not the thin, clear, squirting ejaculate Trish had only ever achieved on rare occasions, but slow, creamy ooze of a few hard orgasms.

"OhMyGodINeededThat," Trish sighed, slurring heavily. "Thatwastheone."

"Which one?" Quinn said, lapping hungrily. "I counted six."

"Nine." The brunette took long, slow breaths. "At least."

"Nine? Really?" Quinn swelled with pride. "Not my best, but still—"

"No," Trish sighed happily. "Your best. Trust me."

Quinn beamed as she sat back to let Trish finally compose herself. "There," she said. "Ruined."

Trish bit her lip and smiled.

"Who's my good little whore?"

"Fuck," Trish groaned, her brow furrowing tightly.

"Who's my good, gaped whore?"

"I am," Trish said, nodding tightly. Quinn smiled as she rocked forward onto her knees, intending to stand, and squeaked when Trish grabbed her by the jaw. Her eyes popped when Trish leaned in close. "You have no idea what I'm going to do to you when it's your turn."

Quinn smiled and licked the tip of Trish's nose. "I can't wait." Two quick steps had her at the sink. A few seconds of running water and a little bit of soap had her hands squeaky clean.