Annabelle & Bridget, Part Four

Topless. Practically naked, really, save for my thong.

It was a miracle my hands didn’t spring back up halfway to cover myself. Somehow, despite my blush and persistent confusion, I managed to drop my arms all the way to my sides. And then I waited. Annabelle was the one in charge here, even when Bridget’s unexpected presence had snapped me back to reality. That is, until Annabelle started pushing for the obedience that was more effective on me than I expected it would be with my former rival around.

“Good girl,” Annabelle said, “Be brave for me, Mere. Stay right there.” She slowly worked her way up from the horizontal position, untangling herself from Bridget. Before too long, Annabelle was sitting up on the edge of the sofa and fixing her hair that honestly didn’t need fixing. Even with the way Bridget had been grasping it, Annabelle’s red locks just had a way of looking perfect all the time. “What do you think, Bridget?” she asked.

Bridget had been doing the same in terms of getting up and settling herself into a seated position. She didn’t seem particularly bothered that her make-out session was interrupted. Not when she got to see me in another situation that was so outside her usual image of me. “Hmm.” Looking me up and down, taking her sweet time, Bridget eventually ended up staring right at my bare chest. “She’s bigger than I expected.”

“Right?” Annabelle said, “I mean, they’re still a little small. But for a petite girl? Not bad.”

“Mm hmm,” Bridget nodded, “Is she a lesbian?”

“You know, I never asked. Although I have to assume.” After checking out my body herself, and giving more of her attention to the girl next to her, Annabelle turned her attention to me again. “Mere. Are you a lesbian?”

No. Definitely not. Annabelle was literally the first and only girl I had ever been with, and we hadn’t done that much beyond making out. Well, there was the fact that she had given me the best orgasm I’d ever had. Still, I had liked guys my whole life. Annabelle was amazing, admittedly, but it wasn’t as if a few days with her had flipped a switch and completely turned me.

I really hadn’t been given time to sort out all this stuff with myself. And the ‘L word’ felt more sexually charged than if she had asked in a softer, less direct manner. My instinct was to correct Annabelle and suggest that maybe I was bisexual. Except that would technically be coming out in front of Bridget, which was so much more daunting than if I had Annabelle all to myself like usual. Instead, I decided that playing along was the safer approach, considering that Annabelle was almost certainly looking for a simple affirmation regardless of whether it was true or not. “Yes, Ms. Annabelle,” I quietly said.

Bridget smirked. “Fun. Is she all yours, babe? Or . . . ”

“Let’s find out.” Annabelle leaned over and whispered something in Bridget’s ear. A few somethings, based on how long they remained close. Then she sat back up like the proper girl she was and addressed me. “Mere, stay. Be a good girl and you’ll be rewarded.”

With that, Bridget stood up. She sauntered towards me, looking both amused and intimidating at the same time with the way the edge of her lips remained curled up. Rather than approaching me face to face, she ended up beside me and placed both of her hands on my shoulders to turn me towards her.

Even in my flustered state, I was able to connect the dots. This was so Annabelle could see both of us at a portrait angle, as I would have been completely hidden by Bridget otherwise. My former rival was an inch or so taller than Annabelle. The height difference had never bothered me before, as we were always competing at an intellectual level. However, it was difficult not to feel self conscious about my size after the two of them had so openly talked about my boobs.

My arms were still down, if only because I was frozen in uncertainty. I had no idea what to do with Bridget in my personal space like this, and Annabelle was still right there. Trying to reconcile my feelings towards both of these girls was impossible.

“Look at me, Meredith,” Bridget murmured. Her hands were still on my bare shoulders, gently yet assertively holding me in place in front of her. Waiting until I actually glanced up and met her eyes, as I had been reluctant to do so before she insisted, she went on, “You can say ‘no.’ You can say ‘stop.’ If you want to be a little bitch, Ms. Annabelle says that’s allowed.”

If Bridget’s recent question to Annabelle hadn’t been telling enough, this certainly clued me into what was in store for me. Was this actually about to happen? Though I didn’t know the specifics of Bridget’s intentions, I knew for a fact she didn’t like me like that. While it had been a year or two since we had been in each others’ lives, I assumed her distaste for me was similar to what mine was for her.

Yet here she was, mere inches from me and suggesting that something was about to happen between us. “Do you understand, Mere?”

Her words? Sure. I understood those, in theory. It was everything unspoken that I was unsure about.

“Say it, Mere,” she pressed, “Oh, and call me Ms. Bridget. Do you understand, Mere?”

Nervously swallowing, and feeling my blush darken as I forced myself to maintain eye contact with her, I muttered, “Yes, Ms. Bridget.” It didn’t roll off the tongue as naturally as ‘Ms. Annabelle,’ though it was a bit embarrassing at how easily the words slipped out.

“Good girl.” After praising me in the familiar way, Bridget began slowly tracing her fingertips down from my shoulder and towards my chest. “Now, hold still. You can manage that much, right?”