Chapter Six

 

Rhone dismounted from Journee’s face.  Journee could hardly believe what happened, especially all that squirting stuff at the end.  Rhone squirted a lot more than any guy Journee was with ever had.  More than any guy her friends talked about in sexual detail.  It wasn’t thick like man cum, or white, but it possibly had a stronger flavor.  It was almost lemony but with a bitter aftertaste that was somehow good. 

A woman squirting that much stuff couldn’t be normal!  Rhone had some kind of special talent?  Or was it something with Rambikkuns?

Journee soon learned it wasn’t all that special, at least among Rambikkuns.  She learned that when Pindpo mounted her face like Rhone had and face fucked her with her pussy slapping on Journee’s face like Rhone had. 

Journee took to her role quickly and with less thought.  She was in the middle of a fucking.  Lesbians, sure, but a fucking.  She had to do her part.  In this case, lick while a young African woman rode her face like a face pony.

Journee did her best to please.  If she was going to get fucked, and she already was, then she didn’t want to be a bum lay.  She could still do her best to make America look good to Rambikkuns.  Not your standard public relations, but hey.

Journee doing her best to please was successful.  In this case, the success was making Pindpo orgasm.

When Pindpo orgasmed, she squirted as much or more than Rhone.  It was a deluge.  The taste was similar but slightly different.  A little more lime than lemon?  And the bitter aftertaste was stronger as well, almost skunky.

While Pindpo rode her face, Rhone had not licked Journee’s pussy.  Journee knew she should be relieved, but she was instead a bit disappointed.

Rhone said after Pindpo got off on Journee’s soaked face and then got off of her soaked face, “Do not expect to receive more orgasms than the two of us combined.  Selfish slave!  You must earn orgasm privilege.”

Earn them?  Journee was trying to avoid them.

She was trying to avoid them, right? 

Well, not so far.  Not this time.  Not right now.  She meant she’d avoid them in the future.

Yeah, like, who wanted orgasms anyway?

She lay in the sun, exhausted.  She heard them talking in their native language.  She bet they were talking about her.

They left, and she knew she should get dressed.  What about Mom coming home?

She was so exhausted.  And she felt so slutty in a sexy way.  Laying by the side of the pool, soaked in orgasmic juices, thoroughly used.  She felt exposed and slutty, and she liked the feeling.

She assumed being sexually overwhelmed by two young African women, succumbing to a lesbian attack, had to be rare.  This was her first time ever!  She may as well bask in the afterglow and under the glowing sun.

Rhone and Pindpo returned in less than ten minutes. 

They rubbed something thick, some kind of lotion, all over her body, even having her turn onto her stomach.  They did not miss a square inch.  Not even down in her ass crack!  Not even her sphincter!

Rhone said, “This will protect your skin from the sun.  You are a white savage.  We do not want you to become tan and think you are better than what you are.  You are sex slave.  You are our toy.  Our plaything.”

Yeah, well….

Then, after flipping Journee back onto her back, Pindpo pressed a wide wedge of some kind of fruit against her mouth.  It had a curve of hard brown smooth shell, like a smooth coconut, but the fruit inside it was an extremely bright yellow. 

Journee ate it.  They gave her no choice.  It was extremely sour.  When she finished, they pressed another wedge to her mouth, and she ate that one as well.

Pindpo giggled, “Tomorrow with her will be such fun.”

Rhone said, “Yes, the American brat will have quite a surprise.”

How could she be surprised if they said she would be?  Granted, she did not know what they were talking about.  Journee felt some of her familiar assertive personality return.  Like a cowardly ghost sneaking back into her but whose return was welcome.

Normal Journee did not like Submissive Journee.  No more of that!

Did Rhone just call her a brat?  She had!  That bitch!

Where was Rhone’s gratitude towards Journee for all of Journee’s challenging oral service?

Journee supposed Rhone gave herself credit for that because she’d made the American do it.  Journee grudgingly supposed Rhone might have a point there.  Yes, well, she did not want credit for giving Rhone cunnilingus!  So there!

Journee thought she sounded bratty inside her mind.  Maybe Rhone had a point about that as well.  Journee knew she’d had a lot of privilege in her life.  She’d lost her father at a young age, but otherwise, her life was easy.  She was beautiful, healthy, and had everything she wanted.  The Parrow family was by no means wealthy, but they also had no money problems.

Journee thought maybe this unreal event was, in some twisted, unusual wacky way, a taste of the real world.  Sure, a taste.

Maybe she was a bit of a brat.  Not a terrible one, but spoiled with good fortune.  Maybe she needed this.  Rhone and Pindpo took her down a notch.  Or eighteen notches.  Especially with those spanks!  Journee’s ass was still buzzing from them.

Now they were talking about tomorrow.  Fuck.  That meant they were coming back tomorrow!  Would they expect more of this kind of thing?  Journee bet they would.

Could she catch a redeye flight out of Nai Nabi airport tonight?  What about Mom?

If she left, she’d miss out on their damn surprise, whatever the fuck it was.

Journee was determined not to be surprised by whatever it was that she was supposed to be surprised by tomorrow.  And to put a stop to this… whatever this was.  A lesbian menage a trois?  Sure, but it was more than that.  It wasn’t three females together.  It would look that way at first glance.  But it was not a threeway, it was two against one.

It wasn’t fucking fair, is what it was!

She had to get rid of these two.  And she needed to get dressed before her mom returned.

Well, it seemed like she couldn’t get anything done unless they agreed to it.

Journee said, “Well, ‘companions,’ I need to get dressed, and you need to get dressed and leave.  My mom – the ambassador – could be home at any moment.  She wouldn’t appreciate… this.”

Rhone frowned and went to a small table near the pool.  She checked what looked like a smartphone.

A smartphone?  Jeez, Rambikku was pretty advanced!

Rhone’s frown dissipated, “You are wrong, American slut slave.  The tracker indicates your mother, the ambassador, is still at the palace.”

Pindpo added, “I am ever so sure Queen Muunu will feed her a large lunch.”

Rhone snickered, “Her ambassador belly must be so full by now.”

Journee didn’t get it.  But she did get that they had a way to track Mom.  Not cool!  She’d tell Mom at the first opportunity. 

She also understood these two were not scared off by her mom talk.

Maybe she could politely hint she had no more time for… lesbian stuff.

“Ladies, it’s been real and all.  Really something.  But it’s past lunch, and I’m hungry, and I need to eat.  Sooooo….”

She hoped they’d take the hint.

They didn’t, at least not in the way she’d hoped.

Rhone said, “Yes, lunch.  We will serve you.  Come sit at this little table with us.”

Weird.  Now they wanted to serve her lunch?  Like cater to her after taking advantage of her like that?

It seemed like such a welcoming thing to do.  It didn’t fit their behavior towards her up to this point.

And why was Pindpo grinning like that?  That was not a friendly grin.

Still, Journee could hardly turn them down.  What would they feed her?  More of that strange fruit?

No.  It was from the dairy food group….