The Lepidopterists – Part 9

As the girl reached up to pull all that wet, unruly red hair off her face, Yvette saw them. A fleeting moment of eye contact told her that Daniel had seen them too. The scars. It was impossible not to wonder what else this perfectly beautiful young woman had done to herself to accommodate the expectations of others.

The scars looked old. When had she done this? At 16? 17? And what kind of an adult would sanction it?

“Who allowed that?” Yvette said.

Jessica lowered her arms and eyed Yvette warily. “What?” She crossed her arms over her breasts and stood dripping and petulant in the white-tiled enclosure. The defensiveness of the posture was almost laughable and Yvette could not resist.

“Who allowed you to get the tit job? Who paid for it?”

At first it seemed as if the girl would deny it, but she must have changed her mind. “No one. I did it. I paid for it.”

“No, no, no,” said Yvette. She slipped off her perch and approached Jessica. Gently but firmly she eased the girl’s protective arms down and, with only her fingertips, traced the underside of one plump, perfect breast. She read the scar like Braille.

“This is no Bangkok job. No Mexico job either. This isn’t even mediocre American plastic surgery. This is top of the line stuff. Anywhere from $8,000 up. Trust me, I’ve seen enough botched jobs to know.” Yvette kept her voice cool and professional as she grazed the underside of the other breast. Her thumb stroked over the wet strawberry nipple. She bent her head forward and looked in Jessica’s eyes. “Who?”

Jessica’s cheeks flared, her breathing grew tight and quick. “I told…”

“No!” snapped Yvette. “Who?”

“My daddy.”

Yvette sneered and trapped the nipple between her first two fingers, feeling it stiffen. “Your daddy? Charming. Were they for you or for him?”

“Stop it!” yelled Jessica, shoving Yvette away. “That’s disgusting.”

“Disgusting? Letting a child have breast augmentation is disgusting. How old were you?”

The girl’s face flushed. “Fuck off. It’s none of your business!”

Daniel, who’d been quiet until then spoke up. “Five years. At least. Maybe more.”

With the pad of her thumb, Yvette traced the almost invisible scar at the edge of Jessica’s left nipple. “Nice to see you didn’t lose sensation.”

The girl tried to bat away the probing fingers but Yvette caught her wrist held it firm. It pleased her to make the girl squirm even in the midst of this humiliation. She cupped a breast and squeezed it, gently at first and then harder.

Pressing in, their bodies met with only the towel Yvette was wearing between them, until Jessica’s back was against the tiles. Yvette released her breast and traced a line down the side of the girl’s body, then wedged her hand between them and cupped Jessica’s shaved mound and pressed her middle finger between the ripe lips. Still wet from the shower, they gave way easily. Beneath her, the girl shuddered. It was easy to feel the nub of her clit, hard and swelling. Easy to tease it erect as she bent and relaxed her ring finger. A warm slippery flood suffused Jessica’s slit. Not shower water anymore, Yvette knew.

The girl’s breath was hot on her neck. Her body trembled slightly and her hips began to rock almost imperceptibly.

With her mouth close to the girl’s ear, Yvette whispered: “Poor little girl. Did he touch you like this? Did you like it?”

“No…” It was a whine of a word.

Yvette moved her hand, dipping two fingers into Jessica’s opening before dragging them back up through her slit. “‘No’ he didn’t or ‘No’ you didn’t like it?”

“No. No!” moaned Jessica.

Yvette pushed a little deeper and, despite the girl’s words, felt her hips arch to give her access. “Then… it was his friends. Did he give you to his friends?”

The girl shook her head weakly but said nothing. The arm in Yvette’s grasp went limp and the other reached up to cling onto her shoulder. She was shuddering now.

“Tell me. Come on, pretty girl. Tell me”

But the girl didn’t speak. Her lips were parted, her eyes closed. Her interior muscled clenched around Yvette’s fingers, she pushed her pubic bone against the heel of Yvette’s palm.

And there, at that precipice of pleasure, Yvette stopped. “Tell me, and I’ll make you come.” she whispered.

But the girl wasn’t listening. Her body strained, her hips rolled. Yvette had to pin Jessica’s body against the wall to stop her from simply fucking herself to orgasm. “Tell me.”

“Please… Please make me come,” Jessica whimpered, resting her head on Yvette’s shoulder.

“Tell me. Say it.”

“Friends.” The word so soft it was almost impossible to hear them.

“Whose friends?”

“His.”

“Did he know?”

Jessica gave out a choked sob and shook her head, her cheek smearing over Yvette’s skin.

As Yvette resumed her ministrations, Jessica gasped in relief. She was so wet. The room reverberated with the sound of her desperate breaths and the slick, liquid sound of fingers entering hungry cunt. Yvette fucked the girl harder, allowing her to grind herself brutally against her open palm.

“Did he know?” Yvette demanded, even as she felt Jessica’s orgasm begin and turn her body to a mass of jerking, twitching flesh.

“Yes!” Screamed the girl. “Yes… he… he…”

Yvette felt Jessica’s body go limp and she took the girl’s weight, wrapping an arm around her waist. The head still cradled in the crook of Yvette’s neck nodded. “He knew.”