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Why had she agreed to this? Seeing Tracer sitting there with a smug grin on her face was pissing her off, but there was nothing she could do without raising suspicion.
Tracer and Widow had gone out for lunch, innocuous enough one might think, but Tracer had had a brilliant idea. To spice up their little date she had told Widow to wear a vibrating cock ring.
Now they were having dessert. Widow had taken the liberty to pretty herself up for the date. A tight little miniskirt, high-heels and a sleeveless white blouse constituted her outfit. Her hair was done up in a ponytail, her luscious lips were red like cherries, fashionable shades made her expression hard to read, and a neckerchief, a mini Union Jack completed her attire. A small, gold watch on one wrist and a few precious trinkets on the other were the finishing touches.
Sitting there, with her legs crossed, no one would’ve suspected the mischief the person sitting opposite of her had in mind. Tracer was much more casual. Sneakers, denim shorts, and a Rod Steward shirt were all she wore.
“My, that spoon must be delicious, love. You’ve been sucking it for a good while now without even touching your ice cream. It’s melting, you know?”, she said, smugly. Widow stared daggers at her. It was her fault that perfectly good stracciatella ice was going to waste. Tracer herself was enjoying a popsicle. She stared Widow dead in the eyes as she ran her tongue across the strawberry-flavored treat, and as her tongue approached the tip, the intensity of the vibrator would increase.
She had been doing that for a while now. Tormenting Widow, not only with the physical stimulation, but with visuals to go along with it, too. The worst part was that Widow wasn’t allowed to cum, and even if that hadn’t been the case, soiling herself in public really wasn’t an option. So she had to contend with a raging erection, ready to burst, while Tracer was snickering at her.
Widow lifted a shaking spoonful of ice cream to her lips as she watched Tracer. A droplet was about to fall off of the popsicle, but she caught it on her unfurled tongue. She ran it up and down the popsicle obscenely. A waiter bumped into a table because she distracted him. It was like watching someone lick a cock in public, or in Widow’s case, her cock. She wrapped her lips around the tip, winked, and the vibrator went into overdrive.
Widow couldn’t stifle a gasp. Surely Tracer was giving her dessert the tongue lashing of a lifetime. Widow loved it when she did that to her. She had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, and seeing that, Tracer slowed down.
“You okay there, love?”, she asked. She leaned forward, putting her chin in her palm. She wasn’t concerned or sorry. She was curious. “Are your panties a sticky mess yet?”, she seemed to ask with her eyes. Widow grit her teeth in defiance.
“I think it is time for us to pay, chérie”, she said.
Shortly thereafter, Widow was dragging Tracer along into a dark alley. The air was clear, so Widow unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Tracer gasped at the sight of her cock, straining against her satin panties. Those were also removed, closely followed by the infernal vibrator.
“Aww, giving up already, love?”, Tracer asked and crossed her arms. Widow did not have the patience for this.
“Shut up, Lena. I can’t take this anymore”, she snarled, grabbed Tracer by the shoulder and pushed her to her knees.
“Geez, okay, okay! I get it!”, she said when Widow’s dick, dripping with pre-cum was frantically poking her face, trying to get into her mouth.
Tracer, mercy incarnate, started giving Widow head. Sweet, sloppy, delicious, head. Widow’s sigh of relief was more akin to singing than anything else. Her eyes fluttered while the tongue and lips she adored caressed her poor, tortured cock.
“Ah! Oui! Sucer, ma petite pute!”, she groaned, letting her fingers comb through Tracer’s hair.
Tracer bobbed her head diligently and sucked as best as she could. Saliva and pre-cum mixed and started dripping onto the ground. Widow lost herself a little. She fondled her breasts through her blouse and giggled to herself. Release was at hand, soon she would flood Lena’s mouth with her seed.
Except that Tracer had other plans. When she felt Widow throbbing, she pulled away, despite Widow’s best efforts to keep her head right there.
“Damn it, Lena!”, Widow said, exasperated, “Haven’t I suffered enough already?”
“My mouth’s hardly the best place to finish, don’t you think?”, Tracer asked. She turned around, put her hands to a wall and stuck her tight little apple bottom out. “Teasing you got me excited, too, love. Let’s finish together, eh?”
Usually, Widow would’ve taken the opportunity to deliver some payback to the cheeky little minx, but she wasn’t usually so desperate to cum, so she skipped that part. She tugged at Tracer’s shorts until her sweet, thong clad ass greeted her. Widow gave it a slap, just because she liked the sound it made, pulled the thong aside, and shoved her cock into Tracer’s welcoming cunt.
It was a quick ride. Widow tried to hold it just a little longer to savor Tracer’s lovely hole, but there was only so much she could do. At some point, the sperm just started squirting out, but Widow didn’t stop until Tracer also started cumming.
After she was done, Widow pulled out and handed Tracer a tissue to clean herself up with. She was about to wipe herself off, but Tracer beat her to it. With her mouth.
“I told you it would be fun”, Tracer said airily as they walked back home. Widow scoffed.
“Don’t think I’ll play along with that again. I hope you are ready to get punished when we are home”. Tracer giggled and pecker her cheek. “You’re not supposed to look forward to it. Defeats the purpose”. Tracer linked arms with Widow.
“Define punishment, because my sexy girlfriend making me cum my brains out sounds entirely desirable, love”, she said lasciviously. She had a point, but Widow couldn’t help it. Driving Tracer wild and making her scream her name was just too much fun.