Isn't It Romantic 3

That afternoon, Sara wanted to do some sisterly shopping. Laurel couldn’t deny her. Half the time it was an effort to get Sara from spending all day in bed, but when Sara wanted to go out, Laurel indulged her to no end. Together, they booked an exclusive fitting room at one of Starling City’s hottest boutiques. It had opened after Sara’s death, so Sara was eager to find out what she’d been missing.

As bad as Sara could get with her bedraggled, depressive moods, she cleaned up into a joy. Splitting up to cover the whole store, they earmarked dozens of outfits in their sizes, then sequestered themselves in the fitting room while attendants scurried to bring them their choices. It was grotesquely decadently, especially on a public servant’s salary, but Laurel couldn’t stop herself from making Sara happy. If she needed to, she’d ask Thea for some money, loath as she was to call upon her girlfriend’s wealth. 

Inside the mirror-lined fitting room, Sara coiled a number of outfits over her arm before heading to the smaller changing room reserved for their use. “Laurel, I am ready to put myself out there again. Snag that special someone. Get laid.”

Laurel almost got bubble tea in her nose. “I suppose if I were in your shoes, that would be on my agenda.”

“Actually, that’s on my agenda too,” Sara added. “Now that I’m back, can’t have you walking around all loveless and forlorn.”

“Good word use.”

“Thanks, I did a crossword earlier.”

“Have anyone in mind?” Laurel asked, wondering if Sara had her sights set on Oliver again. She didn’t know where things were with him and Felicity, having checked out as much as possible from his personal life after everything that had happened. But if Sara ended up dating Oliver while she dated his sister, it would have to prove the universe had one lousy sense of humor.

“A certain someone, yeah,” Sara said with a grin that was so much like her old self, Laurel could’ve cried. “But it’s not an exclusive sort of thing. I might get myself a harem.”

The girl had definitely spent too much time at Nanda Parbat.

“Anyway,” Sara held up the clothing boxes piled in her arms. “I’ve got some strong possibilities here. Stay here and get ready to have an open mind, because I want us to wear some matching outfits. Nothing more eye-catching than a matching set of hot blondes, is there?”

Laurel sat down to wait, sure that her own opinion on the process would not be required. However Sara wanted her to dress, she’d dress. Sara had better fashion sense than her anyway. Her phone buzzed. Perfect. Laurel did not mind multitasking so long as her central goal of spending time with Sara was achieved.

She unlocked it. The notification was for a text from Thea, which read I have something to show you. Barely had Laurel opened it when the door to the fitting room popped up and Thea swept into the room, closing and locking the door behind her. She wore a short red dress that came halfway down her sumptuous thighs, bringing Laurel’s lust roaring back after it’d mostly gone to sleep over the course of the day.

“Hey babe,” Thea said. “Got my text?”

“What are you doing here, Thea?” Laurel hissed, as under her breath as she could go while still letting Thea hear her. “I’m here with my sister! That was a locked door!”

“I trained to fight the League of Assassins. You think I can’t pick a lock?” Thea sauntered up to her, lips pursed, only to swerve at the last moment and lean against the counter, facing her radiant reflection in the mirror. Her ass pushed out. Laurel stared at it. The juicy contours perfectly outlined by Thea’s tight dress, the stockings that sped down her lissome thighs, encasing her legs to make them look more like sex toys than a normal, ordinary body part. “But if you think I’ve been bad, you can spank me.”

“My sister is in the other room!” Laurel stressed. As if Thea weren’t bad enough, she had to admit that part of her wanted the quickie—to finally relieve the tension from that morning. It’d never gone away. And Christ, some of the thoughts she had as Sara picked out skirts and shorts and thongs to wear…

“With a stack of clothes to try on,” Thea retorted. She reached down to her already high hemline and skirted it up over her ass. Laurel groaned. Between Thea’s pantyhose and her thong underwear, the girl was just pure sex. “You can get me off faster than that.”

“I can’t,” Laurel insisted. No matter how turned on she was, she couldn’t possibly let the Thea and Sara halves of her life mix any more than they already had. It was already confusing enough, her body always wanting more-more-more and not distinguishing at all between either woman’s warm flesh…

“Then I guess Sara can just walk out and see me like this…” Sara hooked her thumbs into the sides of her pantyhose and peeled it down her waist, stopping with it tangled around her thighs and her round ass on full display. 

“Please, Thea, I promise, I promise, just wait a little while and I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Thea interrupted. “Fuck me? Fuck my ass? My tight little ass? Remember how you’ve licked it? You said it tasted sexy…”

Thea dug her fingers into her firm asscheeks, pulling them open to show the band of her thong, even as it disappeared between her buttocks. Christ, Laurel could see where the buttplug slightly distended its seat…

“Even eating your pussy would get me off, Laurel. I’d die to eat your pussy. All hot and squirmy and wet, and your clit all hard for me to suck on…”

Laurel closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at this. She wouldn’t.

When she opened them, Thea’s panties were in a frilly black heap on top of her toes. 

In the mirror’s reflection, Thea crooked her finger. “Come here. Stick your tongue out. I’ll give you a taste of my ass and then you can taste my pussy.”

The door to the changing room unlocked. Thea seamlessly straightened up and turned around and yanked her hosiery up as Sara emerged, but all she’d have to do was look down and she’d see Thea’s panties at her feet.

Then Laurel got another shock. Sara wasn’t wearing some clubbing outfit. Lingerie swept over her from head to toe. Tightly wound silk held in her bust, danced down the rigid muscles of her midsection, then gilded her groin and ass. The whole affair hovered over a pair of stockings that were held up by garters, attached to some nebulous point in the near dominatrix-outfit that scantly touched her torso. 

As Laurel watched, barely breathing, Sara gave a twirl that showed off how the lingerie cut between her buttocks, leaving maybe an inch of flesh unexposed all told. And her ass… Laurel almost moaned… Sara’s ass was pert and perfect and athletic, looking like it would fill a hand or bounce back a smack with equal aplomb. Laurel had thought that Sara had just worn flattering shorts, but no, there was nothing the coil of fabric that ran between Sara’s buttocks could possibly do. Her ass simply looked that damn good, all on its own. And if Thea had bothered to ask again, Laurel would’ve done anything she asked. Seeing Sara like that had her too turned on for anything else. If Thea had asked, Laurel would’ve fucked her in front of everyone on Arrow’s team, Team Flash, and the League of Assassins for good measure.

But Thea didn’t ask. She was, if anything, even more taken aback. Because not only was she reacting to Sara, but she was seeing how turned on Laurel was as well.

“Oh, Thea, hey,” Sara said, greeting the family friend as casually as she would in jeans and a T-shirt. As if she weren’t wearing maybe a foot of fabric all told, strategically placed. “Decided to drop in and join the party, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Thea breathed. “You look great.”

“I try,” Sara preened. “Guess I’m testing well here. That means it’s your turn, sis. Try to suck in the gut—maybe Thea will be nice and buy it for us.”

Laurel’s mind was still somewhere out in space, but coming into orbit fast. “My turn?”

“Yes,” Sara nodded sardonically. “You’ve got another one somewhere in your pile; try it on. Thea can tell us who wears it better.”

“Oh, I…” Thea gaped. “I couldn’t…”

“Relax, kid.” Sara grinned at her. “If you think it’s Laurel, we’ll just put it down to your underdeveloped sense of style. After all, you did pick out a pretty gnarly brother… There!” Quickly jaunting to Laurel’s pile of boxes, Sara picked out one and handed it to her. “Same model, but your size. With one little extra…”

Reaching into the pile again, Sara brought out a long, slender package to set on top of the first box in Laurel’s arms.

“What’s that?” Thea asked haplessly.

“That,” Sara answered, lifting the lid, “is the latest accessory that no woman can be without.”

She held it up. Eight inches. That was all Thea could think. Eight inches and as big around as the handle on a tennis racket.

Sara brought it down to her crotch, where there was a little nodule for it to screw on. “They say it completes the look. Isn’t that incredible? Lingerie built to show off a strap-on. Now I know what to tell people when they ask me why I came back to life.” She picked up another long box to give to Laurel. “Here. Matching set. Please remember at Christmas that I didn’t get you a smaller one.”

Utterly gobsmacked, Laurel could only respond to the little shove Sara gave her and walk into the changing room. 

Still wearing the hell out of what little she was wearing, Sara sat down next to Thea. “Sorry I didn’t get you anything. If you like, we could go pick out something for you. Not that you need any help… well, maybe something for those runs in your stockings.”

Thea looked down at how wrinkled her pantyhose had become from their brief trip, before frantically looking up. The less attention she drew to her panties, the better. The last twenty-four hours had to have her on some pretty thin ice with Laurel, and this being the way that Sara found out her sister was gay—and fucking a Queen—would be a lot.

“I had a little accident,” Thea said. “You know how it is.”

“I certainly do,” Sara said, reaching for her purse. It was on the same counter where Thea had almost been bent over by Laurel. She sat down next to it as she dug inside. “And as long as big sister is gone…”

Sara brought out a flask from her purse. When she unscrewed the cap, Thea smelled malt liquor. 

Sara took a swig. “Our little secret,” she said as she passed it to Thea. It was enough to make Thea wonder if she wasn’t dating the wrong Lance.

Thea’d been to enough sorority parties—and every other kind of party—to hold her liquor. She drained as much as she could from the flask.

“Oof!” Sara said sympathetically. “Long day?”

Thea nodded. “You have no idea.”

“Well, I did die once,” Sara mused. “But let’s hear your thing.”

She punctuated the invitation by slapping Thea on the ass. Thea blushed—Sara had the same swift, sure crispness as Laurel.

“It’s nothing,” Thea said, brushing her short hair away from her face. “You know. Just stuff.”

“Really?” Sara crossed her long legs. “So it doesn’t have anything to do with that stick up your ass?”

“Stick up my ass?” Thea asked disbelievingly. She sat down next to Sara on the counter. “Do you know how many times I’ve been paparazzi’d without my panties on?”

“It’s probably in the back of my head somewhere, but who’s keeping track?” Sara uncrossed her legs, showing off her strap-on again. She seemed pleased to lean back and have it stick up in the air. “And I meant the literal stick I felt in your ass just now.”

Thea clenched her thighs together. “What? No—that is private—no, I don’t—none of your business…”

Sara flicked her protruding dildo, making it sway. “Uh-huh. I’m guessing a satisfier plug from Adam & Eve, nothing fancy, just a little something to tide you over until… y’know… daddy’s home, so to speak.”

Thea forced her slack jaw shut. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said conclusively.

“Fine.” Sara took another swig. “It just seems like a shame for a girl with an ass like yours to get her pleasing from some dumb piece of plastic. Trust me, as someone who’s swung both ways, I could get anyone in this city in bed with that butt, especially if they’re an ass-man.” Her eyebrows quirked. “Speaking of, how do you feel about interracial dating?”

“I already have a—a person,” Thea finished lamely, not wanting to give away any more than she had to. Anything she could say felt like a dangling thread Sara could pull and pull until it came to Laurel.

“Well, they are not doing their job.” Sara handed the flask over to Thea, who drank from it in relenting admission of what Sara was saying. “Anyone dating a girl with as much in the trunk as you has a duty to please that booty.”

Thea laughed, liquor running through her sinuses like she was being waterboarded. “Oh God—did you really just say that?”

“Don’t waste my booze, man.” Sara took the flash back from her and replaced the cap. “I’m serious. You’re all tense and backed up, I can tell just by looking at you. If this person of yours isn’t getting the job done, there are plenty of people who would be happy to lend a hand.”

“I’m fine,” Thea stressed, wiping away with her fist the liquor that had bubbled out of her nose.

“Really.” Sara put the flask down. “How about a little test so we can see just how bad off you are?”

“You want to test me? Which party school did you go to again?”

“The school of life, kiddo.” Sara slipped an arm around Thea’s shoulder. “Now just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“But—“

“You can’t, can you? You can’t even relax. That’s how tightly wound you are. I swear, no one with a buttplug in them right now should be as uptight as you are.”

“Trust me,” Thea said. “I am not upright.”

“Okay then; prove it. Relax. Enjoy yourself. It’s not like I’m some weirdo trying to get into your pants. We’ve known each other forever. We’re like a girl squad.”

Thea took a deep breath. Her eyes shut. She felt Sara’s hands moving over her body. The blonde’s touch was gentle, pleasant, but when she felt her daft fingers brush over her nipple, she instinctively twisted away. Turning her face, she found her lips against Sara’s, whose tongue plunged into her mouth. Thea sighed and let herself be kissed until something melted inside her and she needed more. She kissed Sara back, giving her own tongue to Sara’s mouth.

“I thought you weren’t some weirdo trying to get into my pants,” Thea gasped.

“I’m not. I’m an incredibly attractive, well-rounded, recently resurrected bachelorette trying to get into your pants.” Sara ran her fingers skittishly along Thea’s bare thigh, from her knee to the hem of her dress. “Not that pants would be nearly as flattering as this dress. You have great legs, Thea.”

“Skinny legs.”

“No, they’re perfect. Slender and sexy… and in between them…”

Sara ran her hand up between Thea’s thighs to touch her bare pussy. Sara didn’t have to point out she wasn’t wearing panties; the look on her face said it all. Thea was throbbing and tingling as bad as she ever had with Laurel. It was wrong, but that only made it more exciting. Laurel was turned on by Sara; why shouldn’t she be?

“We should stop,” Thea muttered.

“Why? Am I doing it wrong?” Sara asked teasingly. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“You know it does.”

“Yes, I do.” Sara stroked harder, pushing the tips of her fingers into Thea’s labia. 

Thea’s hips squirmed. Her breasts pushed against the thin top of her dress until the turgid impressions of her nipples could be seen.

“Oh!” Thea gasped, feeling a tremor of excitement roll through her. “Ohhhh, shit, that feels—!”

“You sound like you’re having fun,” Sara whispered, plying the top of Thea’s dress down her arms. Thea let her do it, too weak with pleasure for anything else.

It felt good to have her breasts heaving freely. Sara cupped one in her hand and pressed her lips against the areola, the nipple scorching hot inside her mouth. Thea put her hands on Sara’s head as if to push her away, but her muscles were too rubbery to apply any pressure. Sara bit down lightly, then sucked, then licked. 

Thea fell back woozily against the mirror. She felt her pantyhose being stripped away, then her dress. It felt so much better when it was another woman taking them off her. Sara’s mouth touched her belly; her tongue in Thea’s navel.

“Haven’t you m-m-made your point!” Thea panted.

“Starting to,” Sara replied. “Open your legs.”

“I can’t…”

“Then let me help you.”

Sara was kissing Thea’s knees, her legs, her thighs, and as the kisses ran higher and higher, Thea spread her legs to make room for them, opened them until she felt her labia part and expose the sleek pink flesh inside to whatever Sara wanted to do with it.

“What the fuck?”

Thea could’ve laughed. She really could’ve cracked and just burst out laughing. After an eternity of Sara getting in the way of her and Laurel, here was Laurel coming out of the dressing room, all lace and lingerie with a nice big strap-on attached in front—the Gotham City one that Thea had got her—and she was interrupting Thea and Sara.