Swing Time: A Swinger Collection by Nighty Knight

Swing Time: A Swinger Collection by Nighty Knight

Author:Nighty Knight
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-02-26T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter Three

Daphne was not hard to find. Francesca simply walked the hallways of the second floor until she found the open door to the master bedroom. Candlelight flickered within. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, which did absolutely nothing, she stepped in.

“Chesca,” Daphne called from the bed. “Come to me.”

Francesca closed the door behind her. The emerald dress was hanging over the back of a chair, as were her undergarments. Daphne was naked beneath that blanket. Skinning herself of the rest of her clothing, Francesca tossed it onto the seat and slipped beneath the covers.

Since the curtains were drawn, the only light was from the pillar candles upon the dresser. The trembling little glows danced along Daphne’s arm as she tucked the blanket around Francesca.

“Are we taking a nap?” Francesca asked.

“Hmmm. I think not.” Daphne smiled. “Do you want this, Chesca?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“But you’re new to it.”

“Have you been with a lot of women before?”

“Yes. As many women as men. I could never be happy, having one without the other.” She stroked Francesca’s cheek. “So lovely.”

Francesca trembled. “Who starts when we’re both women?”

It was a very stupid question. Quite possibly, it was the stupidest question to ever come out of her mouth. Who started when a man was with a woman? Elliot wasn’t the sole leader of their sex life, determining when and where and how often it happened. She’d jumped him plenty of times. Either could start, so why would it be any different with two women?

Blood stained Francesca’s cheeks as Daphne burst into laughter and said, “I start. You start. We start together. It depends on what we want. Oh, don’t hide from me,” she chided when Francesca buried her face in the pillow from embarrassment.

Sliding closer on the mattress, she made Francesca lift her head. Francesca felt Daphne’s naked body against her own, the warmth and closeness heightening her arousal.

“How would you like to start?” Daphne whispered. “You can have all the control, if that’s what would make you comfortable.”

“I think you like having all the control.”

“I do,” Daphne said wryly. “Usually, I start when I’m with a woman. But I don’t wish to overwhelm you.”

Tentatively, Francesca reached under the blanket. Her fingers found the softness of Daphne’s side. She stroked down over the swell of her hip to her thigh, and back over her hip to the dip of her waist. From there she went to Daphne’s arm, sliding up it to her shoulder. Francesca traced along her collar bone and began to dip down to her breasts.

Then she shook her head and pulled back.

“Not feeling it?” Daphne said. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? What do you want, my Chesca?”

A hand slipped around Francesca’s waist to her lower back. Daphne stroked her there soothingly.

What captivated her about this woman was more than just her looks. It was the alpha spirit hiding behind her delicate features. That was what had hooked Francesca from the beginning, and hooked her still. To give up all the control to Francesca was a sweet gesture.



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