Black Lily

Nice Weather

Written By | Series: Weather Woman

Notes and Disclaimers: The characters in this story belong to Adachi Testu, Kodansha, Yanmanga KC.The situation is mine, but doesn’t really even come close to the depravity of the original.

This story is dedicated to all the bottom-feeding pervs who read my work and never bother to thank me, because that would mean having a social skill of some sort.

This is a hentai lemon, in other words, a story with explicit sexual situations, and as such is completely unsuitable for minors, people with strong negative moral convictions about masturbation and lesbian sex or anyone that has a delicate constitution. If you are any of the above, especially a minor stop reading *now.* If you go any further you are committing a heinous act of stupidity. Do not expect to be rewarded for it.

If you are not one of the above, do please email me if you enjoy this story. Especially if you’re a bottom-feeding perv.

“Worldshaking” Fanfic supports Yuricon, a celebration of shoujoai and yuri in anime and manga. Join us at the Yuricon Mailing List for chat about Weather Woman and other yuri manga.

WSF also supports the Fanfic Revolution, because fanfic, hentai or not, doesn’t have to suck.

 

Nice Weather

The sun was warm on Michiko’s body, shining down from a clear blue sky. The breeze was light, stirring the hair on her arms and neck pleasantly. Michiko smiled, leaning back in the chaise longue. She sighed happily, letting the noise of the palm trees moving in the air soothe her nerves.

This was the vacation of her dreams. For whatever reason, Keiko had, at last, let her out from under her thumb for a few days – even paid for Michiko’s flight and hotel in this tropical paradise. Michiko gestured for the attractive young attendant to bring her another drink. His sun-bronzed body shone with a healthy glow and a generous application of coconut oil. She pulled down her sunglasses and eyed him over the frame. Mmm, yes, he’d make a nice addition to her evening’s agenda. She caught his eye and slipped him an extra large tip, whispered, “Seven o’clock, cabin 15,” and lay back again, pleased with herself and the world. And, for at least a brief moment, with her employer, the infamous Nakadai Keiko, star sex queen and television weather woman. Even as the name crossed her mind, Michiko looked around her quickly, hoping that her thoughts hadn’t been somehow tapped, or bugged, or hell, just heard through the ether. There was no overestimating Keiko – no, it was impossible to overestimate her genius, her slyness…her talent for sadistic sneakyness.

Michiko settled her breathing, and relaxed back into the chaise, trying to keep Keiko out of her mind completely. She heard a few gulls, and the waves as they broke in the water, the rush of noise as the water crawled up the sand and receded…she sighed. All natural noises, nothing even remotely…

“Mmmm.”

Michiko’s brows furrowed. That was a distinctly human sound.

“Oh, mmmm, yes.”

Michiko’s head swiveled back and forth, trying to pinpoint the source. Further down the beach, Michiko could make out her companions on this little jaunt, the former “Hentai Hunter” Natsumi, and her sidekick. Natsumi had her bathing suit top untied, and Ritsuko was stroking her back with strong hands, ostensibly rubbing suntan lotion into Natsumi’s delicate skin.

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s nice.”

Michiko made a face at the couple. “Bootlicker,” she muttered in Ritsuko’s direction, then closed her eyes once more.

“Mmm, Ri-chan…” the last syllable disappeared into a soft yelp that sent a bolt of energy through Michiko’s body. Once again her sunglasses were lowered. Over the rims she could make out Ritsuko and Natsumi, only this time, Ritsuko’s hands were most definitely *not* on Natsumi’s back.

Natsumi’s head was thrown backward, while, quite visibly, even at this distance, Ritsuko’s hands were cupped across the former Hentai Hunter’s ass. Ritsuko’s hands sank into the firm flesh of Natsumi’s buttocks. With slow, steady motions, the dark-haired policewoman massaged some oily substance into Natsumi’s fair skin. Natsumi purred deep in her throat as Ritsuko’s hands kneaded her muscles.

Michiko slid her glasses down her nose and gazed surreptiously over the rim, as the blonde’s head jerked backwards. From this distance, Michiko could not see exactly what Natsumi’s subordinate was doing, but she could guess. Ritsuko’s circular motions with her hand became smaller, more focused, and Natsumi’s moans grew louder.

Ritsuko’s hands ceased to move visibly, just as a loud groan tore itself from Natsumi’s throat and her hips rose from the towel. Michiko could clearly see Ritsuko thrust one hand between her superior’s legs, while the other reached around and felt for something else entirely. Once again Natsumi’s hips bucked, at which Ritsuko impatiently tore the bathing suit bottom away from Natsumi’s body and moved her face between her superior’s legs. Ritsuko’s name carried along the beach shrilly, as Natsumi shrieked and thrashed wildly beneath her partner.

During all this, Michiko hadn’t moved. The insane abandon of the two lovers held her completely enrapt. She could feel her own nipples hardening when, after Natsumi had rolled onto her back, Ritsuko took one of Natsumi’s breasts in her mouth and the other in her hand. And when the dark-haired woman lowered herself between Natsumi’s legs, Michiko’s own increasing excitement wasn’t much of a surprise to her. Watching the two women get it on was turning her on…she squirmed a little, feeling the tension build between her legs. The noises coming down the beach were driving her wild, but Michiko couldn’t just….

The ex-weather reporter looked around, noting the absence of other guests, the lack of attendants and the complete privacy that had settled around them at this exclusive beach resort. Michiko’s eyes wandered once again to the two women. Ritsuko’s skin was dark as it slid along Natsumi’s pale body. So totally absorbed were they in giving each other pleasure that they were completely unaware that Michiko was now openly staring at them. Her hand strayed to one breast, casually feeling the hardened nipple under her palm, noting the growing wetness and pulse between her legs.

No one was around, she reasoned with herself. If *they* can be so open…well, why not?

Michiko slipped one hand into her bikini top, imagining that the hand that touched her was not hers at all. The other hand caressed herself lightly through the thin material of her bikini bottom; but as she brushed over her swollen clit, she gasped loudly.

As if in answer, both Ritsuko and Natsumi groaned as they licked each other, rising towards a mutual climax. Michiko moved her bikini bottom aside, stroking her center, one hand moving gently inside herself, as the other women’s’ moans grew in intensity. Michiko’s fingers played across her clit faster, as their noises grew louder. Just as she heard them begin to scream at the same time, babbling each other’s names, her own orgasm began to move through her, wave after wave, growing towards a climax…..

 

“Michiko! I’m home! Where the hell are you?” The voice was low, sultry and seriously annoyed.

Michiko’s body became rigid with fear as her orgasm shut down in an icy wash of adrenaline and unresolved tension. Agony filled her limbs as her fantasy crashed around her, leaving her naked and terrified in her employer’s bed.

“Michiko!” The voice was louder now, heading towards her. There was no time to run and nowhere to go. Discovery was imminent.

Paralyzed with fear, Michiko could only lay there and shake pitifully, her mind wildly speculating on the reasons her employer might have returned early. Tears of terror ran down her face as she contemplated her fate.

The door to the bedroom slammed open and Nakadai Keiko strode in. One steely glance was all it took for Keiko to know exactly what was going on.

Michiko was finally able to move her body, scuttling as far from Keiko as possible, huddling against the punishment that would surely follow. She drew her legs inward ineffectually to hide her nakedness from that unremitting gaze.

Keiko’s dark eyes did not waver. Staring directly into Michiko’s face she said, “Masturbating in my bed, hmm?”

Michiko could only nod in agreement. When Keiko moved, Michiko started, curling up into an even smaller ball.

But Keiko was not moving towards her. Instead, as Michiko watched with huge, staring eyes, Keiko tossed a pile of clothes off a chair in the corner of the room, and drew it close by the bed. Seating herself, Keiko crossed her long legs and said, “Show me.”

“Excuse me?” Michiko wasn’t sure that she had heard Keiko correctly. “What?”

Keiko’s eyes were small and cold. “You heard me – show me. Show me what you were doing.”

“No! I mean…” Michiko’s pathetic attempt at rebellion failed utterly as those hard, black eyes met hers.

“Lay down and show me.” Keiko’s voice was colder than death. One long finger pointed to the head of the bed. “Shut up and do it.” Keiko did not bother to say, “Or else.” She knew it was unnecessary.

Shaking. Michiko forced her legs to move. Slowly, agonized with embarrassment and frustration, she laid herself back on the bed, one hand covering her breasts, the other her groin.

Staring up fearfully, Michiko’s entreaty was met with cold disinterest. But, if questioned at that moment, the former weather woman would have sworn that she saw something burning in Keiko’s eyes. Something buried deep, Michiko thought, slowly spreading her palms over her skin and uncovering herself – something hidden away, even from herself. At that moment, Kawai Michiko would swear that she saw need in Keiko’s blank face – a need that only she could fill.

Michiko closed her eyes, imagining her own hands to be Masao’s; her fiancée’s strong hands stroking her, playing with her. Poor Masao, Michiko thought of him, enthralled and ruined by Nakadai Keiko. Poor Masao, who now needed to be physically and verbally abused before he could attain orgasm.

Looking up, Michiko focused on the face of her tormentor as she slipped one hand downward and parted her lower lips. Her earlier wetness was now doubled with the new excitement. She spread it around lightly, avoiding her clit, avoiding rushing into her delayed climax. If Keiko needed this, then she would do it properly.

Staring with intensity into Keiko’s dark eyes, Michiko rolled one nipple between her fingers, puling at it until she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. Parting her lips invitingly, Michiko moaned, her gaze unwavering, her body beginning to move of its own accord.

She stroked her middle finger gently over her clit, making soft whimpering noises. She brought her second hand down and thrust two fingers into herself with a small grunt, increasing the speed of her movements and the frequency of her moans.

Keiko’s eyes glittered with interest and the edges of her mouth curled up in the smallest of smiles, which was enough to send Michiko over the edge.

Her aborted excitement, the earlier images of Natsumi and Ritsuko and now, Keiko watching her, was all too much. Thrusting hard into herself, Michiko came rapidly and strongly, her breath coming in ragged gasps between moans.

When the waves of pleasure had subsided, Michiko relaxed back onto the bed, panting, waiting for some sign of approval from her employer, some sign that she, Kawai Michiko, had touched the untouchable Nakadai Keiko.

Keiko reached out with one slim arm, took her purse in hand and opened it. With excruciating slowness, she pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a long, slow taste. Keiko uncrossed and re-crossed her impossibly long legs and smoked in silence for a few prolonged minutes. Michiko took in every gesture like a faithful dog, looking for hidden meanings in every motion.

At last Keiko reached out towards her “employee,” her tapered fingers gently taking one hand from Michiko’s body and pulling it towards it towards her. Michiko smiled up at Keiko, rejoicing in this small kindness.

Keiko’s fingers spread, forcing Michiko’s to, as well. Turning Michiko’s hand over, Keiko enclosed the other woman’s hand in her own, making a cupped shape from it. Still moving in a leisurely fashion, Keiko reached out with her other hand and tapped the ash from her cigarette into Michiko’s cupped palm.

Minutes passed in this fashion as Keiko smoked the rest of her cigarette. The only sound in the room was Keiko’s in- and exhalations as she smoked. At last, she stubbed the cigarette out against the bottom of her own shoe, dropping the butt into Michiko’s waiting hand and stood abruptly.

“Not bad,” she said, her head cocked to one side. “I’ll invite Kaori over tonight and you can do it again for her. Now go clean up and come back quickly. You’ve got work to do.”

Michiko knew better than to protest. Her heart still pounding from her exertions, and her thwarted anticipation, she ran to the bathroom, washed the ashes from her hand and the moistness from her thighs and was back in the bedroom, standing ready before her employer had managed to unbutton her entire blouse.

With complete unconcern, Keiko shed her day’s clothes, dropping them on the pile that now lay on the floor on the corner. When her bra and stockings had joined the pile, she turned to Michiko with a brief nod. “Clean these,” she snapped, pulling her panties off and threw them at the other woman. “And when you’re done, start dinner – I’m hungry, it’s been a long day.” Without another word, Keiko turned and entered the bathroom.

Michiko stood where she was until she heard the water in the shower running. Then she looked down at the panties she held. When Keiko demanded she clean her panties, she knew perfectly well what she meant. Michiko closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out, moving towards the cotton panel.

At the first touch of her tongue to the cloth, Michiko’s eyes opened. That taste…! She pulled the panties away from her face and stared in wonder at the small wet spot in the middle of the crotch. Michiko lifted the panties again, and licked at the spot delicately, revelling in the one small sign she had looked for – something that Keiko could never deny, even if she were inclined to do so.

And so, when later Nakadai Keiko came out of the shower to find her freshly cleaned panties hanging to dry, she also found her sometime servant, love-slave, “employee” and sempai, Kawai Michiko, happily making dinner for her, naked but for an apron. And when Keiko ordered her to make enough for two, because Kaori was coming over and Michiko would be performing for her once again, it was with a pleased smile that Michiko responded.

“Yes, Keiko – whatever you say.”