I Kissed A Girl (And She Fucked Me)

Katy wore next to nothing for the livestream; even Rihanna was dressed more modestly than her. She had on a collar anchoring a swath of fabric that covered only one breast; the other only had a pasty on it. The fabric ran around one leg, covering her mons and one buttock, but fully half of her bikini area was on display.

It was like she was wearing a thong on one side and panties on the other. At the ends of her long legs, she wore high heels. The leg that was clothed was so skintight that there were self-evidently condoms in her pocket, showing through a layer of vinyl like they were shrink-wrapped.

“Oops, we lost a light!” Katy said, though the bulb had been flicking since before they’d started the show. She took a stepladder from against the wall and set it up under the ceiling fan, climbing up to deal with it and showing off her gams to the camera, as well as the multiple condoms she kept on her.

She stayed standing up on the stepladder, pretending to inspect the bulb, while swaying her hips pretty much right into the camera. Then she heard Rihanna stirring restlessly.

Rihanna made her uncomfortable. Katy told herself it was just because of their break-up, but when she looked down, she saw those smoky eyes never left her. They enveloped her, closing Katy off in a web of disdain that she wanted to break free of. Rihanna had no right to criticize her. She gave her fans plenty to stare at.

And now, she was staring at her. With a sudden shock, Katy realized Rihanna was looking right up her legs.

They’d used to date, sure. Rihanna had always agreed to keep it on the downlow. Then came Can’t Remember To Forget You. Rihanna had wanted to perform it with Katy. She’d wanted the two of them to gyrate around for the entire music video, grinding on each other and kissing, virtually having sex on screen. She thought it was the perfect way for them both to come out of the closet.

Katy knew it would be the end of her career. She was cute-horny, not horny-horny, and she certainly didn’t have sex. People wanted to have sex with her. A key difference.

But now Katy’s sales were in the toilet. She had to ditch the cute and act raunchier than ever, just to get trending again. She knew there had to be some sexy outfit, some eyepopping act, that would make her the talk of the town again. Once that happened, people would listen to the album instead of ignoring it, she’d get some radio plays instead of magazine articles no one read.

So she’d reached out to Rihanna, asking her to a livestreamed sleepover. They could play games, practice kissing… maybe even allude to some of their relationship history, if Rihanna was so set on that. These days, it could only get Katy more attention.

With Rihanna, though. That was the key. Katy Perry coming out wasn’t a story. Katy Perry and Rihanna being an item—that would get clicks.

Of course, if Katy outed Rihanna, she’d be buried even more. So she’d give Rihanna a little push to out herself. Prancing around in her next-to-nothing outfit, that she knew would have Rihanna all over her back when they were dating. Talking to the stream about how Rihanna always had such ‘great taste’ (and loading the term with meaning) or saying what a great girlfriend she was (again, playing the ambiguity for all it was worth).

Even telling Rihanna ‘I can’t wait to sleep with you.’ No one could miss what she was doing and no one could tell whether it was an act or not. Katy wondered how many internet sleuths she could get talking about her.

Katy started to get down. A little titillation was one thing, but she didn’t want anyone to actually think she and Rihanna were lovers—especially not Rihanna. Just consider it.

Her balance went. It was like the stepladder was suddenly missing a leg. She fell and Rihanna caught her, but the singer’s momentum sent them both to the floor in a wild tangle of limbs.

“Oops! I went down on you,” Katy purred contritely, trying to leaven the mood now that Rihanna could no longer stare at her barely covered kitty.

Rihanna felt the softness and warmth of Katy’s lush, curvaceous body in her arms. She tightened them around the white singer, lying there with Katy on top of her. She looked up into that beautiful Disney Princess face and then hungrily kissed the full red lips, her arms now forcing their bodies closer together.

Katy’s eyes closed a moment—then popped open. She glanced up to see that, on the laptop screen, the livestream showed they were still on camera. Shit! No! Was Rihanna insane? Katy felt those blood-red lips closed to hers, the toned arms that fused any attempt by her to get up or separate herself from Rihanna even an inch. She twisted her head to end the connection and then felt Rihanna’s hand on the back of her neck, holding her in place even if not quite continuing to tongue her.

Katy forced a giggle even as Rihanna held onto her, tight as a straitjacket. “Ha! Wouldn’t be a slumber party without a little kissing practice! How about it, Riri? You think there are any cute boys out there that’d wanna kiss me too?”

“Maybe,” Rihanna said, and Katy breathed a sigh of relief that Rihanna wasn’t messing around anymore. “But they wouldn’t kiss you where I would.”

Katy tensed up, resisting the urge to struggle as Rihanna’s hands bit into her flesh like steel vises. She tried casually to get up and Rihanna immediately pulled her back down, sending them both rolling across the carpet so that Rihanna was now on top of her. She looked skinny but she was damn strong; Katy felt the bunched muscles wherever her hands touched, as she tried not to touch Rihanna too much but still push her away…

“Hey, Riri, you think I’d look good with cornrows?” Katy teased, trying to act nonchalant. “You could braid my hair. I bet I’d look at least a little cute. Not as cute as you, of course, or as strong and empowered and—”

Rihanna’s hotly eager lips came down on her throat like a dropped bomb, running down it and onto her shoulder in a series of burning kisses. Katy gasped. She couldn’t help but breathe hard, even while she tried to pretend this was just an ordinary publicity stunt and not Rihanna ravishing her in front of the entire internet.

“Damn, girl, you still taste sweet as fucking honey,” Rihanna whispered in her ear. “And I ain’t even come on that face yet. Pretty white face gonna have a real glow after I splash it. Won’t need no Maybelline contract after that!”

“Maybelline!” Katy gasped. “I can see… you like my sponsor’s product! But maybe you should let the folks at home see for themselves. You can’t kiss me all night!”

“Yeah, gotta fuck that fat ass sooner or later,” Rihanna murmured, her voice a little louder, making Katy wince as she worried that the microphone would pick it up. “Only fucking problem is I can’t see that ass-fucked ho look on your face when I’m riding it from behind. Unless you’re looking at that computer shit. Fuck, girl, I look good on there. I can’t wait to see myself doggy-stylin’ your shit.”

“Rihanna, please… if you wanted to get back together, want to, then we can get coffee some time—”

“Coffee? I been in your hole, girlie. Holes plural. All three. No need for coffee when I’m ‘bout to remind you who that booty belong to. And we gonna do it on camera, just so ya’s don’t forget again.”

Rihanna’s eyes slitted viciously. She pulled Katy’s top aside to bury her face between the swollen hills. Katy gasped at the affront. Now she couldn’t try to play it off anymore. She jerked and rolled, trying to get away, but Rihanna was on her like she was gagging for it—a sick reminder of how much she’d craved being in Katy’s ass from the minute they’d started dating to the second they’d broken up.

“Then I’m gon sit my wet pussy down on your tits again—fuck dem things, just like we used to—I’d do it right now, only I can’t stand thinkin’ of your asshole all tight and tiny. I gotta get that hole nice and wide again. It’s gonna be ready to take my cock anytime I’m feeling it. And you, baby girl, are relearning how to walk that sexy ass around with a buttplug up your business. Yeah, Katy, you’re not taking that fuckhole away from me again. Everyone’s liable to forget those big tits when I show ‘em how much fun pounding that ass is!”