The Party in the Sky

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Leonardo Lain’s airship nudged at the tip of the city’s tallest tower. He stroked his assistant’s bare breast beneath her silk dress as idly and warmly as a kitten, enjoying the stiffening of her nipple like a tactile-purr against his palm.

“None of that tonight, please Mr Lain,” Polly said. “My lover will not approve.”

“Don’t worry, Pretty Polly, she will, eventually.”

“Don’t call me that.” She removed his hand. “Sir.”

They watched the crew scrabbling around with ladders, cables and ties on the roof below, and smirked at the shivering tinsel of their party-guests. How they huddled together against the blustering skyscraper winds.


Blanche wrapped her fur tighter, held her hat to her head and cursed up at the pompous great blimp. It looked like an entire building had got so big for its boots it had just uprooted itself sideways into the air.

And this roof was not meant for people, either. Not people who cared about their hair, anyway. Worse still – silhouetted at a window against the opulent warmth inside the craft – Blanch could just make out Polly and Mr Lain, watching them. Simultaneously aloft and aloof, beyond the rules of the ordinary world. Blanche sighed, what on earth was she doing here?

“Darling Drip! Life is like a lollipop! So sweet and so fleeting! You must grab every opportunity and suck at it! Suck till there’s nothing left!” That had been Polly’s sales pitch for the party. And why did she insist on calling her “Drip”? It was unfair of her partner to make her do this. Just unfair. And the way she did it, nonchalantly, when Blanche was at her most vulnerable, splayed to her girlfriend’s burrowing mouth and all het up. Polly had whispered into her hollow as if it was a microphone straight to her heart. She could refuse nothing at times like that…

Blanche quickly snuffed the mental image as if someone might read it from her face. A bisexual single-sex coupling was a very modern “marriage”, after all, and not to everyone’s taste.

Polly joined the trembling queue at the base of a silk ladder, skirts and evening dress billowing like flags as they clambered inelegantly up to worship at the altar of Leonardo Lain. I’ll do an hour then bugger off , She grabbed a rope and sighed, by parachute if I have to.


An hour later, Polly squirmed while watching Blanche and Leon having the time of their lives on the dance floor. She hated dancing, especially watching, it gave her a sick feeling to see those she loved and respected display themselves so shamelessly. Also, as happy as she pretended to be, Blanche seemed in the oddest of moods tonight.

Polly sipped at her drink and surreptitiously swilled it around her mouth, replacing Leonardo’s stubborn saltiness with the tart fizz of champagne. How over-excited he became at parties! But how charming and irrepressible was that man’s boyish enthusiasm.

Her eyes narrowed, trying not to let her lusty admiration show as Darling Drip’s beautiful body jiggled around to the music. Polly recalled how her lover had to strap her full breasts flat to fit into the “flapper” fashions, to prevent her pearl ropes from going all wonky. Blanche was slim waisted but just so delightfully curved! Her body, face, eyes, lips, all rounded and vital. Uncontainable. Especially her curls. Polly sighed. Blanche really could have made a bit more effort with her hair tonight. Not that it made much difference to Leonardo it seemed, who winked lasciviously at his dance partner, only to get a rather flirtatious gloved slap in return. She decided to intercede, striding over to them.

“Sir, the ambassador’s wife would like to dance with you too…” Leonardo – who had been grinning like a schoolboy at Blanche – frowned at Polly, then nodded. He straightened his tie and wandered off. Blanche stamped her foot petulantly at his receding form and Polly raised her eyebrows

“Drip! Did you just… stamp your foot?”

“Oh bugger off.” Blanche said without looking at her and lunged for another passing glass.

“You’ve had enough, my dear.” Polly said with a showy smile, then – sensing a storm – left her alone.

Blanche wandered around the glitzy fishbowl of a ballroom, trying to look fascinated by the skyline floating past, her head spinning every time the ground lurched and she bahis firmaları was reminded they were – in fact – all airborne. She found one of the random portholes dotted in the floor, the streetlights and neon lit buildings floating by serenely beneath – ants in overcoats scurrying back from work – and couldn’t resist standing astride them while she surveyed the braying party idiots.

“I saw you…” Blanche whispered as she gulped down her drink with the tears that threatened to burst out, watching her svelte betrayer as she worked the room. Her feline features, sharp black bob and achingly fashionable figure looked sleek as a sequinned panther in the dark party dress. She had not looked quite so stylish in Lain’s office earlier, where Blanche finally – unwittingly – found her. Knelt by his chair, nodding at his lap. That’s not why they call it a ‘bob’, sweetheart She mused with bitter humour. Then there was Lain’s expression. Looking straight at Blanche over Polly’s rude head, as if he knew she was there, offering a world-weary, knowing smile…

There! The same smile he was pulling now, seeking Blanche out across the room. Lain reminded her of the handsome prince she had adored in a childhood book of fairy tales, and she felt her stomach flip whenever he caught her eye, as if a fairy tale had suddenly popped into life. Looks and Power were a potent combination; she had to admire her lover’s taste at least. He was a huge man, too, Blanche couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same story in his trousers.

She smirked into her glass, guessing he would have just discovered the secreted underwear in his jacket pocket… Her underwear. She downed another drink and offered her glass for a passing re-fill, enjoying the unusual – vulnerable -feeling of her dress’s gossamer silk on her bare buttocks and watching his face recall their dance. How close they had got, her hips to his front… he discretely nodded to a doorway at the back of the ballroom and continued his conversation. So he wanted to get her alone… this could be a sweet revenge indeed!


Shutting out the party noise behind her Blanche found herself in a private lounge, dimly lit with two armchairs set beside a low glass-topped table and the passing world be-jewelled underneath it. She helped herself to a slug of champagne, straight from the bottle, and started wondering why the giddy swaying was getting worse.

As she stood by the table – admiring the scrolling view and picturing herself laid across it, her face pressed to the glass while her Fairy Prince plundered her depths – she heard the door open and close behind her. Coolly she didn’t turn around but smiled at the sight of her knickers landing on the glass in front of her.

She closed her eyes and swung her hips back in what she hoped was a seductive slinky move only to be shocked by a sudden stinging slap to her bottom. She yelped and spun round… Polly! They both drew dagger-fingers, then the whole room tipped up and the floor smacked her in the face.


The next morning – the guests all gone and the airship floating idly around the city skies – Polly let herself into the guest suite and smiled at Darling Drip’s sweetly snoring head on the round white cloud of a bed. Her girlfriend was exactly in the same position she had left her the night before, after she’d passed out. Blanche never could hold her drink. But the underwear thing! That was tipsier than she’d ever been.

Polly opened the curtains around the all-but-glass room and the low white clouds of mist outside – revealing just the tips of the tallest towers – reflected far too much light into the room. This was going to hurt.

“Darling.” She stooped and kissed Blanche’s cheek, while wriggling off her dress, “Drip, Sweetie, it’s morning!”

Blanche opened her eyes and frowned at the barrage of daytime “Son of a bitch!” She growled and screwed her eyes shut.

Polly kissed her again, stroking back her hair. “I’ve brought you breakfast!” she sing-songed softly and Blanche buried her head under the pillow.

“No!” She said “I won’t do it!” but Polly was already out of her underwear and standing naked on the bed, her feet planted either side of the moaning bundle of Blanche’s head. She tore the pillow off.

“You bloody will you cheeky cow!” She kaçak iddaa barked and crouched down onto her lover’s fat sulking lips.


Barely minutes later- after teasing her lover with light dabs of her tongue – Blanche finally suckered her mouth to Polly’s greedy spot and the squatting woman shuddered into orgasm above her, gripping her head to her bits and rubbing hard against her mouth. Blanche wanted to cry as she worked, wrenched between wanting to please Polly but badly needing to tear her hair out for her unfaithfulness.

Blanche’s mood became even more confused when her lover blithely pecked “thank you” kisses all over her slippery lips and chin. How could she be so callous? So two-faced? How could Polly actually have treated her like she was in the wrong? Also, rather annoyingly, licking Polly’s sweet blossom had got her horny as hell, so all she could think about, now, was getting seen to herself.

She took a deep breath and decided to put her hunger behind her and challenge her traitor. However, Polly was too excited, throwing back the covers and kicking Blanche out of bed, “Come on!” You’ve got to see the sky shower!” then dragging her through another door into a room that almost wasn’t there. The lightest filigree of metal holding only glass between Polly’s bare feet and the clouds below. She pulled a lever and hot water jetted from every corner as she squealed in delight.

Blanche couldn’t believe it, stepping out into the sky and grabbing on to Polly for dear life, water cascading down their naked skin, evenly and dreamily illuminated white by the puffy clouds nestled amongst the towers below. Polly’s hands slid over her breasts and she shuddered. Perhaps a confrontation could wait five minutes.

Maybe it was guilt, but Polly was particularly attentive that morning, sucking Blanche’s nipples for longer than she normally did and teasing her between the legs with tickling fingers until Blanche was so wet Polly had to use two inside to climax her. And even after that – while they dried off – Polly knelt sweetly between her feet, gripped her buttocks, and kissed and licked her clitoris to another.

It just seemed rather tasteless to spring her infidelities on her right there and then… Blanche looked down at her lover’s beautiful nuzzling head and stroked glossy black hair as the orgasm slowly ebbed. Polly swung her big dark eyes up to meet her gaze and smiled while lightly kissing her mound, calming it. She dipped her head and ran a cleaning tongue up the treacling on Blanche’s inner thighs.

“Mmm… Darling Drips… By the way, Mr Lain wants to see us” she purred. Blanche was too blissed out to object.


Polly wanted to make sure Blanche was calm before the proposition was made – hoping for three orgasms at least to guarantee there would be no histrionics – but Blanche was slow to rouse, for some reason, so two would have to do. Two made her a little nervous. For them, two orgasms was often foreplay, just enough to get them going. Two might make mountains out of molehills.

Polly wondered if it was for this reason that Blanche was quiet while squeezing into one of Polly’s dresses, not even putting up much of a fight over her make-up. Instinct made her fear the worst when they finally got to Leon’s study.


He poured them coffee and they ate croissants, Leon and Polly exchanging looks every now and then as Blanche sullenly stared out the window. Polly nudged him and he cleared his throat

“So. Blanche…” His bassy voice punctured the tense silence.

“Why don’t you just get it out?” Blanche cut through him, glaring at them both.

Confused silence. Polly reached for Blanche’s arm, her face a picture of concern. Blanche pulled it away.

“Just get it out, go on! Polly, that’s what you like isn’t it? A nice fat cock!” Tears overflowed her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Go on, Polly, GET IT OUT!” Blanche surprised herself and picked up a knife. It was only a blunt butter knife but she wielded it like lady Macbeth. Lain put up his hands defensively anyway, as if she was holding a gun and Blanche couldn’t tell if she was being humoured or not. Polly pursed her lips, then shrugged and unfastened Lain’s trousers and removed his shorts. He looked uneasy.

“Right!” Blanche said “See how you like kaçak bahis it! Sit there. SIT DOWN!” She waved the butter knife at Polly who sighed and sat, then Blanche knelt in front of Lain, shoved open his legs and started licking his limp penis.

“Like THAT do you!” Blanche barked crossly.

Lain cleared his throat. “Um actually, I kind of do…” and Blanche jabbed his thigh pointlessly with the knife, making him yelp more in surprise than pain.

“Not you, HER! Do you like this? Hmm?” Blanche dipped her head and took the – now semi flaccid – member into her mouth and sucked at it. Leon groaned and Blanche’s head spun. This wasn’t going right. Polly was staring at her, her arms and legs folded as if to say: “Go on then!”

Blanche made theatrical noises “Mmm! Yummy cock! Mmm!” and Leon started shifting in his chair, making strangled noises. Polly’s eyes crackled, the corner of her mouth lifting. Blanche didn’t know what to do next. She knew that face. It was the face that watched her strip sometimes, the face that watched Blanche pleasure herself, smouldering and lustful. Not tortured and jealous. This was all wrong.

Lain was enormous too. Now he was fully hard Blanche could hardly get her mouth around him, he was staring down at her as she slid her head along his length and when she looked up at him as if to say “take THAT!” he closed his eyes and shuddered. Blanche felt her temper dampening; she felt her half-resolved horniness of the morning returning. No! she cursed No No No!

She gasped off the monster member and knelt back, rubbing him hard with both hands, she had an idea. She would teach him a lesson.

“You love this don’t you, Mr Billionaire?” He groaned, she rubbed faster. “Always get what you want don’t you?” She sucked his taut bell one more time, ran her tongue around it. “You want to cum in my mouth right now, don’t you?” She rubbed him insanely fast, curled her flat tongue out to his end. He gritted his teeth. Polly was suddenly on her knees, right beside them, eyes wide, riveted.

“WELL YOU CAN’T!” Blanche shouted, releasing the twitching penis and leaping to her feet, she grabbed Polly’s hand as if to drag her off into the sunset. “YOU CAN’T HAVE ME OR MY GIRLFRIEND!”

It didn’t go quite to plan. Where would they go anyway, 2000 feet up in a balloon? Polly stayed put. Lain looked wide eyed in panic, confusion and disappointment, holding his mighty phallus like it was a bomb that might go off any second.

“You silly girl!” Polly said and quickly stood, wriggling off her panties, reaching up her skirt, and sitting on Leon’s desperate manhood. Blanche was stunned. Facing away from Lain, and between his knees, Polly briskly sat up and down on his hardness, bouncing on it. He grasped her hips, rocked in mighty spasms up at her and grunted in climax.

Blanche stared at her girlfriend as Lain twitched beneath her. Polly shook her head, her cheeks blushing, rolling her hips on his lap as she spoke in a deep calm voice.

“Blanche.” She sighed, “Meet my husband- DON’T STOP!” She barked over her shoulder at Lain, who jumped and quickened his pace again. “Sweet, Darling Drip! Forgive me…”

Blanche had her hand over mouth, the tears popping out of her eyes again. Even as Polly squirmed on her husband’s lap she cupped her lovers cheek and caressed them away with her thumbs “No, don’t cry, it’s not what you think…Leon doesn’t like… certain things. Things that I need.” She bent forward and kissed a tear from Blanche’s cheek, licking it from her lips “The Things we love.”

Polly cursed and ground down at Lain’s lap, spreading her knees wide either side of his. “My love… I’m afraid… you’ve been my… mistress.” Her face was crimson, lips parted, she held up her finger to stop Blanche from saying anything. “No Wait! There’s more! We- Oh fuck. Leon you tell her.”

Then, while Blanche’s girlfriend, his wife, leant back into him and chewed her hips on his lap, her eyes shut in concentration, Leon Lain smiled and explained, “We want you to join us Blanche! We can travel the world. The three of us. Together! We will have the time of our lives!”

Blanche watched Polly struggling to find satisfaction on the flagging erection, then looked out at the mist clearing over the world of ordinary people below. She felt bewildered, excited. And very, very horny.

She let out a deep sigh, “So sweet and so short.” She whispered and leant between her lovers’ knees. She lifted the skirt, pressed her lips to all she found there, and sucked.

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