Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Ten Songs About Sex ❯ Track Eight: Pink ( Chapter 8 )

This chapter contains **YURI** of a graphic, sexual nature. Also contains gender play if that bothers you.

Summary: Traci shuns Ken, the girls do it, Omi has a nosebleed – you may proceed to chapter Nine where yaoi hotness resumes!



Ten Songs About Sex
Track Eight: Pink


The last guitar riffs faded, and Traci lowered her microphone. Beside her, Ken seemed frozen, mike half lifted, staring. She followed his gaze just in time to see his two friends slip out the door. Well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where they were going. Shameless. Completely shameless, making out like that in public. What people did behind closed doors was their own business, but Traci felt, adamantly, that she ought to be shielded from such displays.

And Ken, the idiot, had been staring the whole time.

Grabbing his arm, she shocked him back into reality and drug him off stage, handing his mike over to the waiting Omi before they returned to their seats.

Ken was flushed. She could feel the heat of his body as he leaned close, and it disgusted her because she hadn’t been the cause of it.

“Hey,” he whispered in her ear. Close. Too close. His hand was back on her leg. “You wanna get outta here?”

“What?”

“We could, you know, go to the bathroom or…”

“Ken Hidaka, if you think I’m going to blow you in a public restroom, then you have severely misconceived the type of woman that I am.”

“Traci!”

It was behind her as she grabbed her purse and stomped from the room. He would have to chase her down, then maybe she would speak to the moron. God, her idiot was so high-maintenance.

She might leave, just to teach him a lesson.

~*~

Kyoko smiled a little as Omi hesitantly took the stage. The room seemed to be clearing out fast. That didn’t usually happen with karaoke, well, not all the time. Still, putting four pretty boys in one room with liquor was bound to have consequences.

She liked Omi well enough, and after her third drink, she had briefly entertained thoughts of letting him kiss her. But he just looked so innocent, standing there in the spotlight, flipping through the song book. No, Omi wasn’t going to be able to show her the ropes. She’d known that, before the alcohol.

There had been a moment, too, in the lobby when Kyoko’s gaze had fallen on the tall blonde. Something in his smile said he’d been around and, apparently, was taking offers as they came. But, that hadn’t worked either. He’d latched onto the redhead, Aya, from the get-go, poking drinks at him and then dragging him out the door.

A little sigh escaped her. She wanted that kind of passion.

This is why Kyoko hated being quiet; it gave her time to think, and thinking made her sad.

“Hey.”

There was another person by her. She looked up to see Minako, dark eyes shining under her heavy bangs as she sat sideways on the wide bench, facing Kyoko, legs tucked under her to she could lean in to talk.

“Hey,” Kyoko replied, wondering why the other girl was so close to her.

“So, did you see it?” Her voice was a whisper, rough in Kyoko’s ear.

“Huh?”

“The show. The boys.”

“Ah. Yeah.”

“They were into it.”

“Yeah,” she nodded a little, eyes focused on Omi as Minako leaned just a little closer.

“Red’s a beauty. Pretty.” Her soft fingers ghosted down Kyoko’s arm. “Exotic. But the blonde, he’s a slut.”

Kyoko’s breath caught; she swallowed hard and heard Minako’s low laugh.

“You like him?”

“N-no.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head a bit as the brunette turned to face her. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t want him? Just looking at him,” she let out a quiet moan from the back of her throat, almost a purr. “You know he can fuck.”

The last work made Kyoko gasp again, but she didn’t shy away from Minako’s hand when it came to rest on her flat stomach.

“Can I kiss you?” The request was already warm on her lips, and Kyoko assented without saying a word, leaning in to the kiss as Minako pressed her back onto the bench. She leaned over the younger girl, bringing their bodies close as their tongues met.

Kyoko didn’t know what to do.

Drawing back, Minako propped herself up with her left arm, setting her right hand free to brush down Kyoko’s side. The girl shivered when Minako cupped her right breast, bare beneath the thin, pink t-shirt. She knew her boobs weren’t as big as other girls’, and a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks.

“They’re nice,” Minako sounded serious, and when Kyoko drug her eyes back, there was no empty flattery in the other’s. “I don’t like big boobs.”

“No?”

“No.” She leaned down, and Kyoko didn’t know what she was about until she felt the wetness of her mouth on her chest as Minako tongued her hard nipple through the shirt.

“Oh. Stop. Stop–“

Minako retreated, an inch or so, at Kyoko’s push.

“What’s wrong?”

“This! And…and, Omi’s looking!”

“So?”

“Well…̶ 1;

“Aren’t you turned on? Didn’t it make you hot, watching them rub up against each other, fuck each other’s mouths? Oh,” her hips thrust forward, pressing against Kyoko’s thigh. “I love it. I’m so fucking wet.”

“I…I…”

“You don’t have to want me,” she smiled. “You can think about them. I will.”

Then Minako’s lips were on her, on her neck and chest and stomach. Her body trembled, excited by the press of the girl’s weight and the touches that sparked new parts of her into vivid sensitivity. She felt her shirt being lifted, bunching under her arms, baring her small breasts to the room. It was scary and erotic to be exposed, but the former was forgotten when soft lips and sharp teeth took turns at her nipples, causing her to arch up, searching for more satisfying contact.

She felt further denied when Minako leaned back. Struggling to get her shuddery breathing back under control, Kyoko forced her eyes open, half expecting the pale girl to be watching her. She wasn’t. She was too busy shrugging out of her jean jacket, exposing thin shoulders which seemed more so in her white, spaghetti strap tank.

Kyoko realized she was pretty.

Then the pretty girl’s hands were undoing her jeans, and Kyoko wondered what the heck she’d gotten herself into. Then, with the jeans tugged down around her thighs, she felt the press of Minako’s hand between her legs, stroking her through her pink panties, finger shifting expertly to search out her inner lips and teasing it with indirect touches through the thin cotton.

She realized Minako was talking, continuously babbling, and, more importantly, had her other hand beneath her own skirt, mirroring her actions there.

“…the way they looked, flushed and so damn ready, ready to fuck right here on the goddamn floor. He would’ve taken Red, thrown him down and ridden him like…”

Oh, her fingers were ghosting under the elastic, dabbling in the wetness that threatened to embarrass Kyoko. But Minako wasn’t paying any attention. She paused to yank down Kyoko’s panties, but there was no comment, and the younger girl was grateful. Now, if she would only touch her–yes! The smooth pad of Minako’s index finger slid slicky across her clit.

“Ah!”

“Yeah. Like that. Red’s makin’ those sounds right now.” She hit the spot again, her own gasp simultaneous with Kyoko’s. “Maybe Red’s giving his lover a blow job.” She paused for a second, eyes closed, and her hand slipped from under her skirt as her whole attention flicked back to the panting Kyoko. “You want me to suck you?”

“I…uh…huh…”

She leaned close, “Come on baby, let me suck your cock.” Her hands were parting the moist lips of Kyoko’s privates, looking, too close, searching, the younger thought, for something she couldn’t find.

Kyoko was confused, but the half-hearted ‘what’ lost out to the bright burst of sensation when Minako’s lips closed over her swollen clit. A hand pressed across her bare belly kept her from pushing up into the touch.

“You like that, baby?” The words were spoken against her, the motion of those lips brushing, teasing, before Minako closed them once more over her, creating a gentle suction which she alternated with slow laps of her tongue, flat and wide and textured.

Kyoko realized she was making noises, whining, high noises that didn’t sound like her own. She barely had a chance to try to cut them off when Minako pulled away.

“Please,” she asked without thinking. And when those brown eyes were back on her, “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you like this, all desperate and so goddamned hard.”

Kyoko decided her brain had gone on vacation; there was nothing left for her to interpret with, but it felt good and she wanted it and no one else was going to give it to her.

“Sit up.”

She did, Minako guiding, tugging her up so that her back was against the bench and her feet flat on the edge looking utterly disheveled. One of her pigtails had fallen down, and the loose hair stuck to her face and neck, clinging in the fine layer of sweat. Her jeans hung loose around her ankles, puddled around her white tennis shoes with their pink laces; her knees pointed upward, slightly spread. Minako caressed her smooth legs, palms running up, over her soft thighs, and back against her wetness.

“So hard…”

“Please.”

“You know what they’re doing, pretty? They’re out there fucking, hard bodies rocking against each other, dicks out, begging to be touched…just like you. You want it?”

“Yes!” It didn’t matter what it was.

“Red’s gonna be bottom; Blonde will have to get him ready. You know about that?” There was no real pause for answer, and Kyoko couldn’t have given one, not with those fingers touching her there. “Blonde’s gotta get him ready, loosen him up so he’ll fit. Oh, fuck, you don’t need any lube, do you, baby?”

Kyoko almost made it to a response, but it transformed into a low moan when she felt the thin length of Minako’s finger slip inside her.

“Fuck no, you don’t. You’re so tight.” Gently she moved the digit in and out, the heel of her hand ghosting across Kyoko’s clit every few moves. Then she added another. “They’ll do this for a while,” she leaned close to press her breasts against the other girl’s, not quite meeting as she leaned in from the side, but enough to add to the electric tension growing in the pit of Kyoko’s stomach. Minako kept talking in her confusing way, hand never leaving its work. “He’ll finger him for a while, maybe rim him; he won’t let him come, not yet, not yet–he’ll keep it slick and cool until he finds red’s sweet spot.”

“Ah!”

“Got you, baby. Fuck yes.”

“Again.”

Minako smiled and kissed her. Her fingers began to move faster, pressing that something deep inside Kyoko that made her jump. It was a slow pressure now, building. It had never been this good by herself.

“Touch me,” Minako demanded, but it was softened by “Please, I need it.”

“I…” Oh, god, she couldn’t catch her breath. “I don’t…know what to do.”

“Just touch.”

She wanted to hesitate, but Minako’s fingers were still in her, wonderfully foreign, so close to that spot but not moving into it. So she touched. Deliberately but without skill, she reached a hand under the other’s pleated skirt, Her panties were wet, the cloth sticky against Kyoko’s cupped palm. Minako ground against it.

“Yes, baby, rub it…oh…”

And the fingers moved again, matching the quick rhythm of Minako’s thin hips.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, Red.”

Something as wrong with that, but the touch was all right.

Kyoko knew it was going to happen, she just needed…something. “I…please…”

Minako’s fingers slipped from her in a wet slide and went immediately to her clitoris, rubbing it in rough, tight circles. Kyoko cried out as she came, head thrown back and thighs clamping tight over Minako’s hand as she shuddered with pulsing sensations.

Turning her head without raising it off the back of the bench, she watched Minako touch herself. On her knees, she leant forward, reaching under her skirt with a hand sticky with Kyoko’s own wetness. Her face was turned down, hidden under her hair, moving in rhythm as she rocked forward on her fingers, still talking to herself.

“I got you baby. So tight, you know I’ll fuck you good; your dick wants me bad. Oh, gonna come, Red. Yes!”

The last syllable was almost a hiss as her lithe body tensed, pressing almost painfully down on her hand.

Their breathing was the only sound in the room.

~*~

Omi wasn’t sure how long he was going to have to hide in the men’s room, but fifteen minutes didn’t seem like long enough.

Carefully he lifted away the tissue.

Well, at least his nose had stopped bleeding.

~tbc~

Miko: *holding a box labeled ‘flames for freezing criminals’ and mumbling the entire time* Thank you for reading my second attempt at yuri, if you would be so kind to deposit your flames directly–

Evil Hentai Slug: In my pants!