Legacy 01
“It’s hairier than usual,” Lara said with a smile, pulling back with a strand of saliva still connecting her to Christy’s vaginal lips.
“Does it bother you?” Christy asked, stretched out on the sofa, naked from the waist down.
“I didn’t say that,” she answered, and immediately put her head back between Christy’s thighs.
Christy inhaled deeply and her hand found Lara’s hair.
“Oneee,” Christy moaned, tugging hard on Lara’s hair. “Twooo,” Christy had the curious habit of starting to count when she was about to reach climax.
She almost never made it to three, and this was no exception: an almost electric shock ran through her body, but Lara didn’t stop sucking, she even picked up the pace. She only stopped when Christy stopped pulling her hair.
“Are you hungry?” Lara asked, still resting her chin on Christy’s thigh.
“A little... yeah,” she said, blushing. Another of Christy’s habits was post-orgasm shame.
On the other hand, Lara was always very energetic. After finishing one thing, she wanted to do another activity immediately. Christy liked to think it was an age thing—Lara was only 22—although she didn’t being that anxious at 22.
Christy reached for her phone on the table. The screen lit up. She had three missed calls from an unknown number.
She called back. The other end picked up on the first ring.
“Christy Wan?”
“That’s me,” she confirmed.
Lara was in the kitchen, making a smoothie for both of them.
“Oh my God, is he okay?” Christy asked, agitated. “Of course, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When she hung up, Lara was already beside her with a poorly made smoothie, waiting to find out what was happening.
“It was the hospital... Jeff had a motorcycle accident,” Christy explained, already putting on her pants.
The hospital was packed. Christy was at the reception desk asking for the tenth time about Jeff’s condition. They kept telling her the same thing: he’s still in surgery.
Lara was pacing in circles, too impatient to sit down. In front of her was a group of adolescents, one of them had broken his leg playing basketball. They kept whispering and laughing, looking in her and Christy’s direction.
It was easy to know why. They shared a whole set of characteristics that attracted vulgar men: they were Asian, had huge breasts, Christy was without a doubt what the dictionary defined as a stunning milf, and on top of that, they were lesbians.
They were the walking fantasy of Otakus. Lara tried not to look at them. She hated most men, with one exception: Jeff.
As she kept pacing, one of the side doors of the waiting room opened.
A middle-aged doctor, with tired eyes, asked the receptionist something and then walked over to Christy.
“Are you a relative of Jeff Miller?” he asked.
“Well... no, I’m his... secretary,” Christy answered timidly.
“His secretary? Ma’am... are you sure you’re Mr. Miller’s emergency ?” the doctor said, confused. “Are you a relative?” he asked, seeing Lara come closer to listen.
“No,” Lara answered flatly.
“Let me guess, another secretary?”
Both women nodded.
“You don’t have the number of any relative of Mr. Miller?”
They both shook their heads.
“Well... it’s not usual, but I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Miller didn’t make it. We tried everything humanly possible, but he was in very bad shape when he arrived at the hospital.”
Jeff had asked to be cremated if anything happened to him. He hadn’t left any further instructions, probably because he didn’t think anything would happen to him. That’s probably why he wasn’t wearing a helmet when the crash happened.
Only three people attended his funeral: Christy, Lara, and an old man with a bushy beard. He was a complete stranger to both of them.
When the funeral was over, the man approached them.
“I imagine you are Christy Wan and Lara Zo, correct?”
“And you are?” Lara asked.
“I’m Robert, Mr. Miller’s ant and executor. And I must tell you that he was in a very favorable financial position. He left you a good part of his money, along with a letter,” he said, handing them said letter. “May I ask how long you knew him?”
“Since when?” Christy stammered, taking the envelope with the letter. “I’m not sure... a couple of years, I suppose.”
Lara was just as confused. She didn’t exactly when she’d met Jeff.
The man said goodbye, not before giving them his card to arrange the transfer of Jeff’s assets and cash.
The champagne had spilled on the carpet, both their asses soaking wet. But neither of them seemed to really care. They were tangled on the floor, legs intertwined, moving their hips at the same rhythm, chasing that wet friction that neither of them wanted to end.
It wasn’t the most pleasurable position for either of them, but it was the most exciting. They loved watching the other’s face drool, their tits bounce with each movement, the sweat mingling.
Lara’s hands dug into Christy’s hips and held her still for just a second before she let go with a moan.
Christy felt Lara’s orgasm before her own. She didn’t know how. She smelled it. She felt it in the way Lara’s thighs opened and closed at the same time.
Then hers arrived. This time, she only got to count to one. When they finished, they stayed still, breathing into each other’s mouths. And then slowly pulled apart.
“Is it weird to celebrate after a funeral?” Lara asked.
“Well... yeah, but...” Christy, blushing, looked back at Lara’s phone. Robert’s message was still there, with the exact amount. It wasn’t just considerable. It was enough that neither of them would ever have to work again. Something that definitely deserved celebrating.
“You know, it’s weird, but I’m not sad... Do you think I’m a bad person?” Lara asked.
“Of course not, honey. You’re just in shock, it all happened so fast... To be honest, I’m not sad either... it’s weird,” Christy answered.
“What do we actually know about Jeff?” Lara said.
“He was a good boss,” they both answered in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it.
“You owe me a meal,” Lara laughed.
“You owe me one,” Christy said, leaning closer. Their breasts touched, which made it hard for them to kiss—their breasts were too big.
“Seriously, what do we know about Jeff?” Lara insisted.
“He was...” They both had to stop themselves from saying the part about him being a good boss again.
“This is disturbing,” Lara pointed out. “Do you have anything else to say about Jeff, besides you know...”
“I’m thinking,” Christy said.
“We have to open the letter,” Lara suggested.
“I thought we were going to wait until we spread his ashes...”
“That was before we found out we’re human parrots,” Lara pointed out, picking up Jeff’s letter that lay between them.
She opened it without waiting for Christy’s answer. It only said: “Everything is yours. For everything I did to you... even though I don’t regret it.”
“Do you know what he’s referring to?” Lara asked, examining the letter, maybe he’d written something else somewhere else. He hadn’t.
“No idea,” Christy answered.
“What do you about work?”
“We were his secretaries.”
“Yeah, but what exactly did we do?”
“Well... secretary stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Lara asked inquisitively.
“Well... I don’t know, I c-can’t ,” Christy answered.
“I-I can’t either, fuck, I don’t even what Jeff did for a living. Do you?” Lara said, distressed.
“No,” Christy confessed.
“Let’s go to his office. At least I the address,” Lara said, starting to get dressed.
The building had various businesses. Jeff’s was on the top floor.
When they arrived, the door had gold lettering: Jeff Miller, behavioral therapist.
“A shrink? We worked for a shrink?” Lara said.
“Mmm... maybe we’re the crazy ones,” Christy tried to laugh, but the laugh didn’t come out.
“What do you think, it’s open,” Lara said. She was the more adventurous one.
“Well, I guess we’re not doing our jobs right.”
When they went in, there was a waiting room chair and a door where Jeff probably saw patients.
“It doesn’t look like it was a busy place,” Lara said.
“There’s no reception desk,” Christy pointed out.
“So?” Lara asked. She didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Why would Jeff need two secretaries if there’s no reception?”
Lara didn’t answer.
On Jeff’s desk, there was a photograph. The three of them.
“Do you that day?” Christy asked her.
“No... and I don’t that microbikini you’re wearing,” Lara said.
“What about you? It’s like your tits are about to fly out,” Christy pointed out. “We’re not even at a beach, it looks like a...”
“A motel. And we look... happy. That’s the face you make after a good...”
“Sex,” Christy finished.
“Is this Jeff? I him younger,” Lara said.
“Taller,” Christy continued.
“Better looking,” Lara said. “Does Jeff have his hand on y-your... ass?”
“I-I... it looks that way,” Christy said.
“What do you think he had those two pillows under his desk for?” Lara asked, but they both already suspected.
“Okay, let’s go over it again. What do we know so far?” Christy said.
“He was a man,” Lara said.
“Well, at least that’s certain.”
“He was maybe 60 years old.”
“Yeah.”
“He was a therapist.”
“Yeah.”
“He abused us.”
“We d-don’t know that,” Christy stammered.
“Since when do we have threesomes? Because I never gave my consent. Did you?”
“What am I supposed to tell you? That that bastard brainwashed us...”
“At least he’s dead now, and I don’t think he can keep hypnotizing people from hell.”
“Yeah... but...”
“But what?” Lara asked.
“Do you know what the acronym LGBTQ+ stands for?”
“What?”
“Do you know what it means? Any idea, no matter how small?”
“I don’t see where you’re going with this...” Lara said, confused.
“Where did we meet?”
“Hmm?”
“Where did we meet?” Christy repeated.
“You know where...”
“I want you to say it.”
“At a pride march, yeah.”
“Exactly. Now tell me what LGBTQ+ means.”
“Why does that matter?”
“You don’t know. And neither do I. We’re supposed to be activists, or at least I think so, and I don’t have a fucking clue what those letters mean.”
“I don’t know... where you’re going with this,” Lara said, tears in her eyes.
“That we can’t even be sure we’re lesbians...”
“Don’t say stupid shit. I love pussy,” Lara said. She always got vulgar when she was upset.
“Sure... but are you sure it’s because... you want it, or because Jeff wanted it that way?” Christy asked.
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” Lara snapped at her, moving in violently. Then, in a fit, she kissed her. It wasn’t a soft kiss like they usually did before sleep. No, her tongue violently pushed through her lips until it found Christy’s tongue.
Christy tried to pull away but Lara didn’t move her face. Her tongue kept searching for Christy’s, pushing, claiming. Christy moaned against her mouth, but it wasn’t a moan of pleasure. It was confusion.
Lara’s hands went down. They unbuttoned Christy’s pants. Pulled down the zipper.
Lara barely pulled back from her lips. She was panting. Her eyes were wet.
“No,” Christy whispered. Her voice came out hoarse.
Lara ignored her. She knelt down. Pulled Christy’s pants down to her ankles. Her panties too. Christy was left naked from the waist down.
Lara put her head between her thighs. Christy felt her mouth in the same place as before. But it wasn’t the same rhythm. It was faster. Wetter. More desperate.
“Lara...” Christy said, and her hand found Lara’s hair, as always.
Lara sucked fiercely. Her tongue went in and out. Her lips sucked where she knew Christy was most sensitive. The sound was wet, obscene. Christy felt her legs tremble.
“Stop,” Christy said. But she didn’t push her head away. She didn’t move her.
Lara didn’t stop.
“Stop,” Christy repeated, and this time her voice sounded closer to a moan than an order.
Lara kept going. Faster. Deeper.
“Oneee...” Christy started moaning unconsciously, she tried to control herself. But Lara picked up the pace somehow.
“Lara!” Christy moaned, and this time she did pull her hair. But not to push her away. To hold her there.
“Twooo,” Christy cried out as she came in her mouth.
When she finished, Lara raised her head. Her chin was shiny. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were glassy.
“I am a lesbian,” she said.