CHAPTER SEVEN

On the road.

Free.

For Bertha this was like a dream come true. For years and years Bertha had been dreaming about being out of Painted Post, Pennsylvania, alone with Roberta Jean. You see, Bertha was madly in love with Roberta Jean. It was something that the blonde had always suspected, but the two had never discussed the subject.

Not till now.

"Roberta Jean?"

"Yeah?"

The blonde was behind the wheel.

"I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I'm a lesbian."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Sure! How could I not know. I see you checking out women. I sat with you when you got all those tattoos. I see the way you walk. I hear the way you talk. How could I now know?"

"I guess you're right. Did you ever see me checking you out?" Bertha asked. It took all of the woman's courage to ask that question.

"Sure, but you have been cool about it," Roberta Jean said.

"I think I am in love with you, Roberta Jean," Bertha said.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"That I didn't know."

"It's true."

"Forget I said anything," Bertha said, feeling her face turn hot.

"No, no, no, no, let's talk about it. We are going to be alone with one another a lot from now on, we should talk about these things," Roberta Jean said.

"I want to make it with you," Bertha Klemmer said. The short-haired and somewhat stocky lesbian had to concentrate to keep herself from stuttering. The short-haired and somewhat stocky lesbian could feel some sweat forming across her upper lip.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay."

"You mean you want to make it with me too?" Bertha said.

"Look, Bertha, you are my best friend. The idea doesn't repulse me. I'm always going to be straight. I am always going to want to be fucked," Roberta Jean said.

"But you are willing to let me caress you?" Bertha asked.

"Sure, I think it's a good idea, you eating me out and stuff."

"Are you willing to eat me out too?" Bertha Klemmer asked.

"Gee, I'm going to have to think about that one."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Bertha said.

"It doesn't seem fair unless I pleasure you too."

"Falling in mother-fucking love isn't fair," Bertha said.

"I suppose."

"Okay, I'll do it. I think giving you pleasure will be fun."

"WOW!" The short-haired and somewhat stocky lesbian was really on top of the world now. Life couldn't be better.

"What the hell!" Roberta Jean Richardson said. They were driving west at ninety-five miles per hour. They didn't know where they were going and they didn't know that they were going to do when they got there.

"I have an idea," Bertha said. The heavily-tattooed and nail-tough bulldyke's eyes were dancing.

"What?"

"In case you have trouble finding guys to fuck, you know, when we are traveling and all, I could buy one of those strap on dildos and fuck you with it. I could pretend that I am your man," Bertha Klemmer said.

"Do you wish that you had been born a man?" Roberta Jean asked.

"I have always felt like a man trapped in a woman's body."

"Poor baby. I'll be your girl, for awhile anyway."

"I don't know how I could possibly thank you, Roberta Jean."

"Shit, you'll think of something," Roberta Jean said.


***

Roberta Jean and Bertha were in the middle of Ohio when they decided to take a break. They had been sharing the driving, but neither of them were good at sleeping in a moving automobile and they were bushed.

It was dawn.

That had enough money to last them a couple of weeks.

When that ran out they were going to have to get jobs.

Doing what?

They had no idea.

Bertha was driving, her chin getting closer and closer to the steering wheel. Their paranoia was beginning to wear of. They were pretty sure that there were no longer any cops looking for them. It was a local matter. As long as they stayed out of Painted Post, Pennsylvania for the rest of their lives there would be no problem.

"Let's stop at the next motel we come to," Roberta Jean said.

"Right. One room, for us," Bertha said. She was in dream-land.

"You know what, Bertha, baby?" Roberta Jean said.

"What?"

"I'm getting pretty horny thinking about getting it on with you."

"No?"

"Yes, Bertha. I think this is going to be fun!" Roberta Jean said.

"I think I am living inside my own fantasy," Bertha said.

"Hey, there's a place up ahead, on the right," the blonde said.

"I see it, I see it," Bertha Klemmer said anxiously. There was blinking neon light announcing the inn.

The sign said: FLAMINGO MOTEL – VACANCY. FLAMINGO MOTEL – VACANCY.

"You stay in the car. I'll get the room," Roberta Jean said.

"Right."

Seconds later, Roberta Jean Richardson was back with a key in her hand. They had the room for twenty-four hours, though neither of them suspected they would need it for that long.

Roberta Jean had been telling the truth about feeling horny at the thought of getting it on with her best friend.

Roberta Jean Richardson could feel the hot blood of her feminine arousal pumping downward in her body.

The buxom and long-legged blonde bombshell could tell that each and every drop of that blood was heading for the pink delta in between her long, shapely legs.

The redheaded and large-breasted bar brawler could feel her pussy swelling – and swelling with great rapidity.

The evil and thoroughly sadistic blonde woman could feel both her inner and outer cunt lips swelling.

The heavily-muscled and mean-tempered female could tell that it wouldn't be long before all of the mucous membranes in between her legs were going to be as swollen as they could possibly get. Soon, she knew, both her inner and outer cunt lips were going to be thoroughly engorged with her passion – a passion, as it turned out, that was bisexual.

Roberta Jean could feel her nipples getting erect. She could feel her clit, along with the rest of her cunt, starting to swell.

Roberta Jean could feel her love button getting a little bit larger and a little bit more hypersensitive with each passing second.

Roberta Jean could feel her clitoris pushing out from under the fleshy sheath that usually all but covered it.

Roberta Jean Richardson could feel her clitoral foreskin being pushed upward and out of the way by her little man in the boat – and she knew that it wouldn't be very long at all before her love button would feel like it was going to explode from the internal pressure she was experiencing down there.

Roberta Jean could feel the little glands inside her hungry pussy starting to secrete her natural lubrication – the juice designed to allow a man's cock to slide in and out with ease.

Roberta Jean could feel her pussy getting moist, and she correctly assumed that it was not going to stay moist for very long.

Roberta Jean knew that soon her pussy was going to be more than just moist – more than just damp. The blonde knew that soon her cunt was going to be soaking wet with her lesbian lust.


***

They entered the motel room.

It was plain but clean.

The bed was crisply made.

"Home sweet home," Roberta Jean Richardson exclaimed.

"Let's go to bed!" Bertha said eagerly, rubbing the palms of her hands together with her anxiousness.

"Let's get naked first," Roberta Jean said with a smile.

They undressed in a flurry. Clothes were strewn about the room.

They met, both as naked as the day they were born, at the foot of the bed and embraced. They pressed their tits together.

They pressed their loins together.

Their muffs.

Their lips.

Their tongues.

"I want to taste you, Roberta Jean, I want to taste your cunt," Bertha said. The short-haired and somewhat stocky lesbian could feel her mouth watering with her lesbianistic anticipation.

Roberta Jean got on her back on the bed. The blonde pulled both of the foam rubber pillows out from beneath the previously crisp covers. She placed the pillows on top of one another and then punched the top one with a tightly clenched right fist to make an indentation for the back of her head. Roberta Jean Richardson wanted her head to be propped up a little bit so that she would better be able to see what Bertha Klemmer was doing.

They kissed again.

Bertha sucked Roberta Jean's neck.

Bertha Klemmer sucked Roberta Jean's tits.

The short-haired and somewhat stocky lesbian kissed Roberta Jean's belly.

The heavily-tattooed and nail-tough bulldyke pushed her tongue right into Roberta Jean Richardson's bellybutton, and the blonde bombshell was pleased to discover, thrilled to discover, that this felt a hell of a lot better than she thought it was going to.

Roberta Jean Richardson's companion and best friend kissed at Roberta Jean Richardson's abdomen.

Her loins.

Her inner thighs.

The brown-haired and distinctly masculine woman crawled all the way down to the foot of the bed and began to kiss at Roberta Jean's feet. The baritone-voiced and muscular female began to suck at Roberta Jean Richardson's toes, first one at a time and then in groups of two and three. Roberta Jean was amazed that it didn't tickle. Only later did she figure out that it was impossible for her nervous system to be horny and ticklish simultaneously.

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