The Best Day Ever

‘As you command’. Bubbles couldn’t help but get a little chill when she heard Faheema say that, and not just because of that husky accent of hers. Bubbles had always leaned on the dominating side of things, and the idea of being able to control another person with simple words was…’intoxicating’? That seemed like a good way to put it. Bubbles had never been a full-fledged dominatrix, but she could easily see the appeal.

And now she had some ideas involving leather and high heels. Later, later...

She bit her lip and tried not to get too excited. Faheema was a person, not a toy. No matter what happened tonight, she had to maintain that respect. Just because she could make her do anything didn’t mean she should.

Faheema’s request had been on Bubbles’ list for the next command, but having her request it somehow made it that much sexier. ”You will.” She whispered in Faheema’s ear, before slipping her tongue out to give it a more thorough washing. She traced the contours and worked her way around the maze, until she came to the center and plunged in deep.

Exploring Faheema’s chest had been a delight, but Bubbles was a lover of the entire female anatomy, and she relished the chance to explore Faheema’s further. After lathering up the Her arms worked their way around and went their separate ways.

One hand went to wash Faheema’s shoulders, tracing along the muscles, exploring every crevice, as if exploring for some trace of fat and finding absolutely none. She was iron all over, her body honed and hardened by the life she’d led. The other hand went downwards, first to give Faheema’s cheek a tight squeeze, then to give it a sudden slap - not too hard. Just a not-so-subtle reminder that Bubbles was owed a few spanking, and she hadn’t forgotten.

Mariah had been enjoying all of this, of course, watching from her perch as her wife’s body overtook Faheema, seeing her breasts enveloped the dark dame’s smaller pair. Without even thinking too much on it, she’d slid a finger underneath her panties and began to gently stroke her own sex, imagining what it would feel like to between the two. Or on top. Or behind. All that flesh, wet and heaving and begging to be played with…

It would be a long night.

She faltered for a moment, though, when Faheema mentioned where she hailed from. It didn’t seem to register much with Bubbles, and while her wife was far from stupid, she only knew a little bit more about countries like Sudan than the average American...and the average American knew jack squat. Mariah, on the other hand, knew enough to be thoroughly surprised that Faheema was even alive, let alone in Japan, relatively healthy, and speaking English. ”Sudan?” She struggled to keep the incredulity out of her voice, but some got out regardless. ”You...how did you get over here?”

Every moment Faheema spent in the shower with Bubbles brought her further and further under the statuesque woman's spell. The shower was perfect, without a single detail out of place. The tiles were clean and immaculate, the water was hot and soothing, and the body sharing space with her was a joy to slide and grind against. The Nubian could feel her muscles pressing against those of Bubbles, but her ear wasn't prepared for a visit by the wet muscle hiding in her mouth. The Nubian had a keen, sharp sense of hearing, and whispering into her ears had always been an effective method to send shivers down her spine, but then Bubbles extended her tongue and licked her.

“Hng, Bubbles...huh!” Faheema cried, almost dancing in place when that smooth, slick digit probed into her ear, sighing and huffing as a lasting tingle passed through her brain. “Th-this is why I like you so much, Bubbles...the little gestures...they make me feel like I'm on fire...ahh!” she mewled again when Bubbles gave her rear a dominant squeeze, followed by a little slap to foreshadow what was to come. To hear Faheema sing for the woman holding her put into context how young and inexperienced she really was, how easily she could be turned to putty by someone like Bubbles.

Reality came knocking, however, when Mariah expressed some shock that Faheema had managed to reach Japan in one piece. It was reassuring to her that the woman seemed to know how dangerous life in her homeland could be, and she turned her head to look at Mariah. The story of her journey was long, but easy to summarize.

“Incredible luck, and a willingness to endure physical trauma,” Faheema said, having clearly paid her dues in that regard. “My father knew a smuggler that used the Nile to move supplies up and down the country. It took years of scrimping and convincing, but my parents finally convinced him to ferry me up the river as far as the northern border.”

Taking some initiative, Faheema grabbed the soap for a moment and used it to start lathering her arms. It required her to release her hug, easier said than done as she quickly missed the feel of warm flesh against her own. Regardless, she wanted to hasten her cleaning so that all three women could start getting to know each other in earnest.

“After parting ways with the boatman, I was on my own. My plan was to cross into Egypt and head north, find passage across the Mediterranean, and seek asylum somewhere. The journey took a full year, one of the hardest of my life. Most of my fighting experience and almost all of my scars were earned along the way, fighting and stealing to stay alive. I also earned my first sexual encounter, about six months ago,” Faheema added, wanting to contextualize both her past sexual deprivation and her excitement to be at the disposal of two women that could change that.

Some of Bubbles lovers liked to ask her why she was always so keen to worship their bodies instead of the other way around - not that she was ever shy about letting them explore every inch they chose, but if she had her druthers, she preferred giving over receiving. It always seemed like such a silly question to her - if there was a sound more heavenly than the squeal of a woman in ecstasy, she couldn’t begin to imagine what it was. She saw the female body as an instrument, and she was dedicated to becoming a virtuoso with it. Every woman reacted differently to different things, had their particular spots to focus on and avoid, and learning them was like unraveling a puzzle.

Faheema was proving to be one of the most rewarding challenges Bubbles had ever taken on. For someone who fought like a lioness, she could mewl like the tiniest kitten. Squirming, squeaking, squealing. Just to hear her, it would’ve been hard to imagine this was the same woman who’d been bashing her head against the floor only two or so hours ago, who was responsible for the myriad of bruises on her tanned skin, and was the reason she had to sit on a bag of ice during the drive over.

As she licked Faheema, Bubbles took in the intoxicating scent of their match before the last time, getting a deep whiff along her neck, before a swipe of the clothes made it fade away. Slowly, she began to wash Faheema in earnest, going after any spots she might’ve missed, and listening along as she told her tale - and it was quite a story.

She backed away as Faheema spoke, looking between her and Mariah. Her wife seemed enraptured by the story, and she could see why - it was such a hard thing for both of them to imagine, but especially her. Bubbles had grown up middle class, not poor, not rich, but Mariah had come from wealth right from the start. She was more down-to-earth than most would’ve suspected, not close to being spoiled, but Faheema had likely faced more adversity in a day of her journey than Mariah had known her entire life.

”That’s…” Mariah bit her lip for a moment, choosing her words carefully, not wanting. ”I can’t even imagine. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Mariah meant it and that carried through her voice, though she felt it was such a shallow thing to say. The saddest thing was that Faheema was unique, but probably not that unique. It was always so easy not to think about the Faheema’s in the world when she was sitting in Starbucks enjoying a latte, but now she was here. Right here.

Bubbles could feel a cloud starting to come in, and she did her best to dispel it as she stepped back and raised her arms, opening up her body in full. ”It’s my turn, now.” She nodded Faheema’s way and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and filling her lungs with the steamy air. ”I’d like to hear about this first sexual encounter of yours, Faheema, but I won’t order it. Only if you want to.”

Faheema could sense the mood darkening as well, and regretted speaking so candidly. It was hard to avoid, though. Kind as they were, Mariah and Bubbles wanted to know more about their guest, but the grim reality of Sudanese life dominated her past. Like a black hole, it pulled any conversation about her life into suffocating darkness, but there were paths to skirt around her miserable legacy, and Bubbles beat her to finding one.

“Console yourself, Mariah!” Faheema cheered as she took the soap and the cloth, pressing both into Bubbles' shoulders to massage the tense muscles that connected to her neck. “For tonight, you and Bubbles will help me celebrate my freedom by showing me how the women of your world enjoy themselves!”

After lathering up Bubbles' arms quickly, she moved down to the chest, where both women could have a little more fun. The Nubian scrubbed in circles, softly, trying to soothe any skin irritation while she cleaned. Nothing overtly sexual, until her hands started working their way around the truly giant orbs that extruded from Bubbles' chest. Each one acted like a whirlpool, drawing Faheema's hands to swirl in circles around them, each rotation bringing them closer to the nipples until her the soap and cloth found their respective marks.

“In Giza, I befriended a thief who helped me pick the pockets of tourists. I was the big, scary woman who got their attention. She was the demure angel who absconded with their valuables,” Faheema pinched one of the Virgin Killer's nipples with her cloth hand and gave it a playful tug, as if she were threatening to steal it. “Once in a while, we would find a secluded place to 'celebrate' our heists. I was easily the more gifted in how to bring her to orgasm with my fingers, but she did provide some decent care for my sore body. Massages, you know.”

Down Faheema went, gently guiding Bubbles with her hands to rotate until Faheema was facing her back. One by one, she started working her hands down the long, rippling thighs of her opponent, giving her legs their washing. On her knees, Faheema also had a good view of the bruises left over from her spanking. Leaning in, Faheema decided to risk her dignity by peppering the red spots with kisses, enjoying her personal time with the woman's pale ass cheeks before standing back up, her job complete.

“In fact, the biggest motive I had for fighting so hard to claim you as a prize was a plan to make you do the same. My body suffers the weight of past abuses, and I have no one to help alleviate it,” she said. Suddenly, with no prior warning, Faheema tried to step out of the shower. This was as far as she ever went with her personal grooming, and while her glossy frame was clean, she hadn't even touched her hair. Rinsing the dust and debris out of it at the end of each day had long been the extent of her hair care, and she wasn't going to change that unless Mariah made good on her prior desire to introduce Faheema to some shampoo.

The three of them were in a bathroom, two of them were stark naked, there a show involved, and they were in the process of washing each other with clear, sexual implications. Considering all that, bringing down the mood was no small feat, yet somehow, they figured it out.

Mariah almost regretted bringing it up - yes, Faheema was their ‘prisoner’, but that didn’t mean they had carte blanche to make her talk about her life. When Bubbles suggested that she talk about her first experience, she almost stopped her, suggested she not do it.

But she did. She even seemed glad to.

Mariah sighed in relief as she went to work on her wife’s body, and Bubbles sighed for much lewder reasons. For someone who had never known a woman before half a year ago, Faheema was notably skilled - she expertly worked her way around Bubbles’ body, teasing the sensitive spots, soothing her skin., making it sizzle.

And that was before Bubbles turned around and Faheema started kissing her ass. The Virgin Killer swooned with every peck of her lips. This had been the sort of thing she’d wanted to order Faheema to do, but she more than glad to see her taking the initiative. Her muscles came with every touch, shifting and bulging as she went about her work, and it was too tempting to let the euphoria take over her.

She wasn’t so wrapped up, though, that she didn’t notice what Faheema was saying, and at the mention of her aching body, she exchanged a mischievous glance with Mariah. She didn’t even have to say anything - a after a wink and a nod, she hopped off the counter and silently made her way out of the bathroom.

She turned off the shower and stepped out after Faheema, grabbing two towel for herself and her new companion.  ”I think we might have something that can help you with that, actually.” Bubbles spoke with a knowing smile, as she went about the task of drying herself off. There was always so much skin to cover. ”When you come out, go ahead and lie down on the bed. Face down.” She ran a hand over Faheema’s backside, a soft caress, and gave her a loving kiss on the cheek. ”You’ll like this.”

Emerging from the cloud of steam that she and Bubbles had created in the shower, her eyes went to the bathroom counter, where Mariah had been sitting. Where was she? The Nubian's first instinct was to dread that she had scared her off with her dour storytelling. Doubtful, given that Mariah had changed the rules of their match just to bring Faheema here, but she was still worried about Mariah's feelings, a rare development for such a stern woman.

At any rate, Faheema took a towel from Bubbles and scrubbed herself as fast as she could, only slowing down to dry off the sore spots on her body. A glimmer of moisture remained, as the towel was urgently needed to dry the messy mop on her head. Dense as it was, a lot of water managed to cling to her hair after shower time. Just as she was planning to meet up with Mariah in the next room, that sultry wife of hers captured Faheema's attention. Magnetized by a kiss to one cheek and an exhilarating grope to another, Faheema leaned sideways, pressing her body into that of Bubbles.

“You know I can't refuse to lie down for you,” she purred, but the flirting was hardly needed to pique Faheema's interest right now. The two women had something to help with her sore muscles? How could she resist, especially when she had just mentioned the transformative properties of a massage on her spirit? In a shadowy blur, Faheema sped into the next room and hopped on the bed with enough force to send an outward ripple through the sheets. Kneeling in the center with her face turned toward Mariah, the Nubian greeted her with an uncharacteristically warm smile.

“You are a kind person Mariah, and I am sorry for insulting you with such frequency. Most people have no interest in learning of my life, and it humbles me that you do. Perhaps when our mutual desires have been sated, we can learn more about one another...if you can handle it,” the Nubian added, not wanting to force unwanted horror upon her. Without making anyone wait further, Faheema turned her body and flopped down onto the bed, burying her face in a pillow with her arms and legs outstretched. Whatever Mariah and Bubbles wanted to do with her body, they had all of it at their disposal.

“Oh, and don't worry about the lines,” Faheema added hastily before resuming her relaxation. On her back, thin, pale lines were arrayed across the skin, from just beneath her shoulder blades down to the tailbone. Neat and horizontal, they were the strangest marks on her body, but they were barely visible, and her skin still felt smooth and unblemished, so the Nubian didn't want them to distract from whatever the two women were planning.

As Faheema leaned back against her, Bubbles ran a hand through that frizzy, tangled hair of hers. The shower had made it marginally cleaner, but it would need a thorough washing to really do the job, and she  knew Mariah was up to the task. She just hoped her wife didn’t do too much to it. Truth told, she sort of liked it wild and untamed. It suited the woman it was attached to.

”You could try.” She gave Faheema’s ass a playful pat as they made their way out, leaving a damp trail behind them. ”I wouldn’t mind putting you down again, that’s for sure. If you ever want a rematch…”

She let that proposition hang in the air - while she definitely wanted to take Faheema on again someday, that level of carnage wasn’t on the menu. She looked over and saw Mariah rummaging through one of their suitcases, tossing out a few of the toys they’d brought along. A whip, a vibrator, handcuffs, she tossed them out as she hurried searched, giving Faheema a quick wave and a smile before she went back to her task.  Bubbles hadn’t given Mariah any verbal cues, she didn’t need to in order to know what she was looking for. ”You put them in the side pouch, babe.”

”I did?” She rummaged a bit more and finally found what she was looking for: a black bottle, filled with a thick, viscous fluid. ”Ha. I did.”

With that done, Mariah crawled over and kneeled on the bed beside Faheema, as Bubble sat near the Nubian’s head, idly playing with her hair, twirling it about her fingers. As tempting as it was to do more, she knew better. This was her wife’s area of expertise.

”No apology needed.” Mariah ran a warm hand down Faheema’s leg, just taking a moment to appreciate the firm muscle and everything that surely went into creating it. ”I was a little jerkish, too, so...yeah. We can hit the reset button. And I’d like to say that you’re a very interesting person, and I look forward to getting to know you better. You'll be surprised what I can handle.”

Mariah held out one hand and poured it full of massaging oil. It was thick, a runny fluid with a smell like flowers, a heady scent that tickled the nose. Drops slipped through her fingers and dribbled on Faheema’s skin, giving her a small taste of what was about to come. ”But you’re right, that’s for later. For now…”

With that simple preamble, Mariah straddled Faheema’s fine behind, sat the bottle aside, and brought her hand to the top of Faheema’s back, rubbing it with the chilling oil. Her touch was tender and delicate, stroking every muscle, tweaking them at the most sensitive spots. She’d work up, then down, then up again, stroking along bones and ligaments and parts of Faheema that she might not have even truly noticed before now. She could feel the terrible tension in this woman’s body, sense what parts ached the most, and they were what garnered the most attention. Like a sculpture with clay, she paid attention to every detail, ignore not a single inch.

”So.” Her voice was low, a bare whisper, one that easily carried in the still air of the room. ”Tell me about the lines.”

Faheema got comfortable on the bed, tilting her head to lay it sideways on a soft pillow. Whatever the two women were planning, just taking in the preparation put her at ease. Mariah felt up the dense muscle of her leg while Bubbles flicked about her bushy hair, prompting the Nubian to sigh happily as she stretched. Soft, caring touches were so underrated in the buildup to a night of intimacy, especially for Faheema, a woman who had been fucked before but never really felt loved by any of her partners.

Her nostrils started flaring as an overtly floral scent filled the air around them. Her body bucked a little when the dribbles of cold liquid hit the small of her back. Why did Mariah need scented goo to give her a massage? The African woman jolted in place when demure, careful hands landed on her back to spread the chilling liquid. She continued to lie still, though, smiling up in Bubbles' direction and giving Mariah the benefit of her cooperation. Soon, her body heat warmed the liquid, allowing her to feel its true purpose.

Those hands of Mariah's, so soft yet so strong and skilled, glided up and down Faheema's back, rolling over her muscles and giving them a very different sort of workout. Casual massage was a weakness of Faheema's, but the professional care being provided by the perky woman weighing her down was beyond compare to anything she had felt in her life before.

“S-so good, uhh...Mariah, don't...don't stop, aahhn,” Faheema faltered, unable to form words properly. Her shoulder blades popped and cracked a couple of times as Mariah worked them over, but far from being painful, a deep, throaty moan escaped Faheema's lips with each pop. Relief to pain that she had always tried to ignore brought elation to her heart, and in her suggestive state, she sang for Mariah, as she had for Bubbles in the ring.

“L-love it, oh lord, I'm all yours,” she huffed excitedly, reaching a hand over and draping it over one of Bubbles' thighs, stroking it eagerly to show appreciation to them both. The only thing that could possibly ruin this for any of them was a badly timed query about the lines on her back. Pity that Mariah hadn't heeded Faheema's warning not to go there.

“Oh, Mariah, babe...I asked you not to worry about them for a reason,” Faheema grumbled, in a tone that was moody but not quite angry. Not even she could keep a fury stoked against someone making her feel this good. Yet Mariah would feel a stronger reaction within the Nubian's body – all of her muscles became tense, and if either woman felt her body carefully enough, they would realize that she was shaking a little.

“They are the first scars I ever received, and the memory of how I got them is worse than any other. Not good foreplay,” she pouted, before resting her head on the pillow once more, breathing deeply and working to maintain her composure. Personal hangups aside, Faheema was in the presence of two women that were as fascinating as they were attractive, and to refuse her own curiosity would be doing them all a great disservice. “Tell me something about you, instead. What inspired you to change the rules of our match? I was so disrespectful to you, but you decided that you wanted me in your company for the night. Why is that? What wonderful inspiration possessed you?”

In a strange way, Bubbles envied Faheema at this very moment. True, it wasn’t like Mariah ever denied her a  good massage, and if she hadn’t been running those talented  hands over that dark skin at the moment, they surely would’ve been doing the same thing to her. But that wasn’t the point - there was no time like the first time, no experience like the original one. The noises Faheema made were the same ones that had come from Bubbles’ own lips, the first time Mariah had lit her skin on fire.

Even now, she could remember that first time, back before they were married, before they were even officially dating. That brutal four-way cage match that Bubbles had barely squeaked a win out from, emerging from a pile of chairs to claim the winning pin. She was limping all the way to the back and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep it off, but Mariah brought her to one of the stadium’s private meeting rooms instead, locked the door behind her, and…

Thoughts for another time. She had two of the sexiest women she’d ever met in front of her, it wasn’t like she needed anything else to focus on.

”I wasn’t worrying, I was just-” Mariah cut herself off as she felt Faheema’s body shivering for the wrong reasons. If her hand wasn’t full of oil, she would’ve slapped her forehead. ”I get curious. Sorry.”

She flashed a quick pout Bubbles’ way, a silent call for help, and the Virgin Killer was quick to move in. As Faheema laid her head to the side, she moved forward and brought their lips together, trying to calm the Nubian with soft kisses to go along tender touch on her back. As she did, Mariah slid down to straddle her thighs, and brought her oily touch to that toned ass of hers. She gave each check a slap, then went to work undoing the damage that Bubbles had done with her chair spanking, squeezing hard to get at the bruised muscle underneath. ”That’s…” Mariah took a moment to consider Faheema’s question, truly think about it, bringing herself back to her mindframe at the moment of that fateful decision. ”Well, I was mad, and I guess I kind of wanted to get some payback. I thought Bubbles would tear you apart, and we’ve been wanting to do the POW thing since we came here.” She shared a nod and knowing smile with Bubbles.

Mariah slipped a slick in between Faheema’s cheeks, not going too deep. Just wanting to see how she reacted. ”Besides - you are hot.  Any sane woman would jump at the chance to bring you home.” She rolled her eyes and bobbed her head to the side. ”Well, any sane lesbian. Or bisexual.”

“Mmm, I like you for your curiosity,” Faheema mumbled in her husky tone, finding her inner peace quickly once the subject was dropped. The compliment wasn't a result of the massage. It was utterly genuine, Faheema having grown used to Westerners who had no interest in knowing, or even living among people like her. “Before the night is over, all will be revealed. Be prepared, for I tell the scariest bedtime stories you'll ever hear.”

The Nubian uttered a foreboding chuckle, but after that token act of intimidation, she went right back to mewling in the embrace of Mariah...and Bubbles, who leaned in to help cool her guest's nerves. Lips touched, and soft smacking noises popped out as Faheema and Bubbles shared their kisses. Then Faheema felt Mariah slide down, sitting her soft behind on her captive's strong legs to start playing with her sore butt. Playing...and squeezing...and pleasing...

“Hnn...hmmg,” Faheema moaned into Bubbles' mouth as Mariah kneaded her bruised bottom, bringing much appreciated relief to an increasingly aroused woman. Moisture was starting to coalesce between her legs, glimmering ever so slightly in the light of the hotel room. Panting audibly, Faheema listened to the answer to her question while the married couple continued to soften her up with their cooperative efforts.

“Do you always get your 'payback' on women by seducing them?” Faheema gasped, melting in Mariah's hands. “Aye, usually I don't give in to the demands of my suitors, but you two are really threatening to break my will to resist...hyah!” the young woman cried excitedly when she felt someone teasing her crotch more directly. There was going to be a visible stain on the bed if this kept up, and a rich shade of burgundy was spreading across her face.

“Lucky for all of us that Bubbles succeeded in making me your prisoner, then,” the Nubian growled, her lips pulling into an immensely guilty grin. At this point, she knew that she was going to let Bubbles and Mariah ravage her. They had both earned it, but Bubbles had suggested to her earlier that she enjoyed having lovers who tried to defy her, and Faheema did like it when that colossal woman overpowered her. Maybe Mariah did as well, so to keep the playful mood alive, the African beauty would try not to let either woman steamroll her without a fight. Easier said than done when both women were so good at tempting her into submission...