> Sweet Siren Seashell Switch-Up > by overlord-flinx > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Sweet Siren > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Insanity is doing something over and over expecting a different result. "Left!" Zilch. Trixie knew it before the cup was raised. Still a trick must always be seen to the end. The cup was simply tipped back just-so to show the poor shmuck her misfortune. No flash of red, just a hollow core and another failed call. "You gotta be kidding me!" Aggravation shot through the Siren with an accompanying screech. As Trixie reached across the table to collect the few knick-knacks put up, she had to wonder if that screech could've shattered glass years ago; when three Sirens looked to bewitch a student body with otherworldly magic. A screech that could've perhaps sent the sultry sorceress sliding to her knees now only sounded like something a cat would prickle at. While she offered a few careful glances at the now slumped over-upon-the-table Siren just to be sure she wasn't about to try anything, Trixie took stock of the abundant pile of "goods" she had managed off the girl. What started as the usual coins and dollars—the usual fare—had developed and devolved into a ring, a gym membership card, a fistful of bus tokens, a slip of paper with random letters and numbers on it (what was promised to be the wi-fi password of a motel), a last-gen phone with a crack across the screen, a pamphlet for a local masseuse who had "late night hours", and now an assortment of creams and lipsticks that are already well used. To be fair, fifty-eight dollars and change with a few free rides on top wasn't a bad haul; it was a better sitting than most nights. However... "One more," eyes brilliant with determination as much as they were with crimson snapped to Trixie. This girl... "Listen sweetie," Trixie started, "Not that I don't LOVE taking your jun—st fine accoutrements... But you have to know when to fold." As Trixie warned her mark, her fingers tapped rhythmic patterns on the tops of two of the three cups placed against the table. Each flitter of taps tauntingly echoed the hollow nature of two of them; the outer two. It was the center. She was so dang close! It was all that filled Sonata's head in that moment. The tippy-tap and hollow thump; the pitiable stare and pouty lip of this nasty magician before her. Oh! It set her off! She just wanted to bite that lip and show her what's what! After all these years, Trixie had probably forgotten her, but Sonata would never have forgotten this tricksy little mix. Equestrian magic? Oh yeah, Adagio was all about that. Spent years trying to find it to power their amulets back up. But all this time, there was real magic just dancing under their noses... And now the mastermind that cracked the code to use it in a world bereft of magic was using it to outsmart her! There wasn't a chance Sonata could take this lying down. She couldn't take this lying down! She had already lost her bus tokens and cab fare... And her means of crying to her siblings for help... At this point, it was bet the shirt off her back or crawl into an alley and die. "I can win this!" Sonata beat her chest with pride, "Set-em up. All or nothing." Her opponent couldn't help but scoff. "Against—pray tell—h'what?" Trixie's charity to let a mark go would always be outweighed by her own narcissistic pride. If you're going to challenge the queen when she gives you mercy, you had better kiss her ring that she won off you and pack it up or put up one hell of a fight. For her own part, Sonata was indeed ready to throw down. And down it went. Up, over, and slapped down upon the table. In a moment, Sonata Dusk issued her wager and watched the once great and powerful magician go red from her collar to her nose. It was only a grift... The swindler's wet-dream always lies in the statements "everything that isn't nailed down" and "the clothes off their back". Metaphors for most petty thieves or common shysters. But today, Sonata Dusk let that dream come to life as off went the Siren's off the shoulder sweater and onto the table, leaving her in just a peach, strapless bra. If the hour wasn't so late, perhaps one of the two would have been concerned about the half-naked woman standing on the street. Even then, perhaps not. Sonata Dusk was aflame with righteous vigor to reclaim her loot, and Trixie had a wandering eye that could care to look at little else but the two assets peaked out just before her. Even if there was another soul wandering the streets, this was an entirely different world. "Now... Shuffle 'em!" Blink once. Blink twice. A shake of the head. A reclaimed composure. If Sonata wanted to bet it all and lose it all so badly... At least Trixie would have the remarkable pleasure of watching her go, and drink in the view for the time being. Deft hands clacked to each cup, one after the other to let the brief sound of a little red ball Sonata had not yet seen since the first round clatter. In an instant, Sonata's eyes latched onto the center cup—it was there. As quick as her attention was caught to the cup, it was just as soon lost as the marvelous magician began her shuffle at a blur. Three cups became one; one cup became six. The Siren's eyes spun 'round-and-round, crisscrossing and snapping shut from the brief sharp pain of struggling not to blink... Only to return and see the three cups back exactly were they started. Now as much as every other time before, Sonata hadn't a clue which one was which. She knew it, and Trixie knew as well. Even at the corner of her perverse view of such supple mounds now softly squared against the face of the table, Trixie could see the abject confusion plastered against the woman's face. No matter how closely she studied them, scooted in against them, or listened in on them as they sat so-still, Sonata only had a gut of a guess. "Llllrrrrmmmiiiiidlllllight-right! It's the right!" Dud. Trixie knew it before the cup was raised. Still a trick must always be seen to the end. The cup was simply tipped back just-so to show the poor shmuck her continued misfortune. No flash of red, just a hollow core and another failed call, again. What followed was not so much a screech of anguish, but a helpless groan behind clenched teeth as the Siren clawed at the air before the cups. Perhaps the sight would look pitiful or downright comical in most cases, but right now Trixie found herself only sucking at her bottom lip and watching a barely restrained pair jiggle and sink in motion with their master's outburst. Maybe another round had been worth it after all. Most certainly Trixie would have a lot to think about tonight when she got home. And the final prize she just won might just help that along. All's fair on the street after all; and they were both adults. Trixie collected up the soft bundle of a shirt left on her table and piled it with her dragon's hoard. Thankfully it wasn't that far of a walk to her hideaway. A walk made all the more easier with bus tokens and cab-fare. Tonight she would have a choice of chariots to spirit her home with her spoils. What apprehension Trixie once toyed with this night had all but been replaced with more wonton sensations... "While this has been very entertaining, the Great and Powerful Trixie must be on—" "One... More..." A silence. A twinge of sympathy plucked once more at Trixie's old, rusted heartstrings. Strings that needed a few replacements, maybe an oiling and better attention, but they still chimed. Maybe she could spare a bus token so the poor girl could at least get home to lick her wounds. Granted, she'd still be going topless; that was one thing Trixie hadn't an iota of intent to part with. Even still, her eyes scanned over the displayed voluptuous form all but offered to her in near full detail as well as the blazing intent roaring behind her motivated expression. "You're adorable," Trixie couldn't lie about that, be it looks or character, "But you have nothing to bet with, for one. And for two, you just don't seem like the type who could best—" "One date." A gauntlet slammed with metaphorical weight and a metaphysical clamor. "P...Pardon?" "I'm no dummy," for the first time, the Siren's tone shifted with a face to match it: one of knowing, "You've been really ogling my perky little body, haven't you?" A shyster caught in the corner was perhaps the worst place they could imagine. Trixie let out a dismissive scoff with a roll of her eyes, all but prepared to dismantle the truth with convenient lies. Such a resolve could weather any storm, though was killed at takeoff as the magician watched the sultry Siren tug one finger down at the hem of her bra. A brief flash was all it took; one of a puffed, navy areola firm from the street's chill. The words of defense crumbled into an alphabet soup of agreement coupled with a hazy nod from the trickster, and Sonata could only bring herself to a toothy grin in response. "So... I'll wager a date. I can promise aaaall you're thinking..." From her memory, Trixie remembered the one with a fiery mane being the manipulator of their little posse; and yet she was a fish on the line with every sensuous word she purred. A Siren through and through, no doubt about it now. It took her every fiber to break herself from the hazy call to the shore. The unwritten handbook of the street magician was strict and clear: I.O.U.s and spoken words may as well be grains of sand. Nobody—most definitely not someone on their backfoot in debt—would ever honor a payment for a later date. Tempting or not, there was no dice. As Trixie wordlessly began to bundle up her winnings and reached for her cups, Sonata's eyes shot wide and all her confidence filtered from her face. "Wait! Three dates! I'll give you three dates! I mean, you can't get all of it out at once, right?" Spoken words and I.O.U.s can't be trusted... But three was too good a deal to ever pass up. The Siren's face lit up with utmost excitement as Trixie's hands returned to the cups. She watched as blue fingers flexed, painted nails rippled against the sides of the two cups of three... This was for it all... How did it end up like this? Repetition is all but the cousin of insanity. Eyes went crisscrossed and slammed shut as they stung, unable to follow any of the three as Trixie deftly shifted them to-and-fro; a mere play of pageantry since the first round when the surreptitious sorceress snatched the ball out from under the 'shells'. A game with only one winner, and a loser who was always meant to leave before they lost it all. But that's all part of the trick. A part of the show. "Center. Gotta be the center. Final answer: the left." Confused ramble aside, the cup was flipped to show—of course—nothing. Sonata—without fail—threw a fit at her impossible luck. And Trixie was all too pleased; like the cat who got into the cream. Her smug smirk was all she could offer as she started her final count of her well-earned prizes, as well as carefully pocketing her cups before someone got wise to check them. Amidst her final check over, her attention was called with a labored, purposeful sigh. "Wow. Guess I lost it all. But it's gonna be totes hard for you to 'collect' since I can't call you..." Sonata's eyes batted innocently, but they both understood in that moment. Whether it was her ploy from the get-go or a revelation she reached in the moment, it would be that the Siren wouldn't go completely at a loss. Trixie offered a deathly glare as slowly, inch by inch, purposefully with every ounce of apprehension she could muster in the moment, slid the cracked phone across the table to an elated Sonata. A squeal of joy pierced the cool dusk air followed by the fevered beeps-and-bops of a keypad being tapped. Trixie reluctantly smirked at the display before finalizing her pack. It was cute, and she did win something back. "Hey Dagi! I—Yeah. Yeah, sorry. But can you come pick me up...? I'm at seventh and four—... Because I lost all my money... Because I bet it all... I bet that too... No—No I won that back... No—" It sounded like it'd be one long talk, and Trixie had to start hitting the trail. In another act of altruism, Trixie produced the strip of paper with a scribbled password on it and took a moment to jot down her number. Two birds, one stone. With some care she left the strip under the pen so it wouldn't flitter off in the wind. Still, the cold would do a number on the poor Siren... Well, Trixie would just have to make it up to her on one of their three dates. If it was all that Sonata implied, there'd be a lot of making to do. "—It's good news for you too! And for Ary...! Well—and don't get mad because it was the only way I got to call you—I bet we'd all go out on a date with her!" What...? "I thought—No. No she was staring at my tits, so—... It's a date! Not—Okay, yeah, it's a sex-meet up. But you should've seen her. She REALLY wanted to fuck me. And you're so pretty! She'll love you, and you'll have a lot of fun with her...!" Huh...? "Okay... Okay... See you soon!" A small click of a closed line would've been what Trixie heard if she was still one with her own body. Instead, red as a beet against the blue highlights of her skin, and body a quiver at the sudden news, the gobsmacked grifter absently started down the road away from this event and all it entailed. Three dates... With three Sirens... It was only a grift, how did it end up like this? Luck? Blessing? Punishment? Heaven or Hell? Either way, she had a lot to think about... An a lot to get out. > Suspicious Siren > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic". The people of Canterlot High knew about magic, the town at large had started to come to that realization, but the irony of the grand reveal would always be that the ones who introduced it found much of the technology in this magic-free world to not be too far from magical. One of those marvels being the common cell phone, which lets words travel far beyond where you can normally hear and still come out crystal clear to the one you spoke to. However, this bit of magical-technology comes with the—at times—annoying caveat that everyone around you can still hear you specifically but not the other person at the other end of the line; which could make for an awkward experience for listening in. There are few things worse than only hearing every other word, in a manner of speaking. "—You were supposed to be back at nine... Just call a cab—wait—why aren't you calling a cab...? How did you lose your—? You bet your—Where are your bus tokens...? Moronic—Did you lose your phone too...?! How can you be so—?!" That end of the conversation rang clear as a bell in Aria's mind. Even if she hadn't been lounging nearby when her sister took the call, the yelling that followed after would've surely reached her no matter where she found herself. While the time was far later than when her empty-headed sister promised she'd be back, Aria never once worried about Sonata returning. Not really out of sisterly-love, but more-so a blasé interest in either of her siblings' comings or goings. Either one was a different beast of ceaseless yapping: one about themselves, the other about nothing. If Sonata just didn't come back for a few hours—days—would it be such a crime? She wasn't even the pretty one, so what was the worst that could happen? "—I cannot possibly see how your bumbling could be anything but trouble for us. Oh, but go on, I'd love to hear you stumble out a reason why the two of us would be happy... I'm already not liking where this is going... Date—? Are you joking?!" Sonata says some of the most insane things one could imagine. Like how the snack machine in the lobby ate her panties. But just like that machine turning out to be out of order with a pair of underpants wedged between B-5 and C-6, there was always an impossible truth to her wild ramblings. That was why even without hearing the other side of the conversation, the moment Aria heard the word 'date' be repeated by her fiery haired sibling, Aria slumped herself off the couch. She remembered the cool clap of the cement floor pressing against her bare form, bracing her but stirring her awake for whatever nonsense or hi-jinks she was about to be pulled into. It was a waste and a shame, since calmly moon-bathing off of the slim skylight in their loft seemed like a far better bit of fun than whatever stupidity was coming about because of both of her sisters. One for being stupid, and the other was encouraging it by not just hanging up and letting nature run its course! Again, she wasn't even the pretty one, what could go wrong? "How could you possibly end up negotiating that to even be on the table? Were you just throwing Hail Lunas out there—?! So you propositioned us out...? This just sounds like a sexual exchange...! This is absolutely the lowest you have dragged us. I cannot begin to—are they cute?" Memories continued to tug at the corners of Aria's mind, as they had done for the last hour as she barely existed in this moment. The distant clinking of glasses and clattering silverware against cheap china roused her attention from that far off moment—the moment she dragged herself off the floor to toss on something presentable for her 'date' and followed her fuming yet intrigued sister out the door—to the present. The present where she was swiftly ditched by her sisters after Sonata secured her ride and Adagio got a good, exploratory look over her 'specimen' that took her sister for a ride, before hightailing it out of sight. The present where she had been left alone with this horny witch that had been so dumb as to be conned into this whole exchange. A conman being conned over sex—you saw it all the time. Not really. Still, she hadn't dawned her evening's best for nothing. Times had stripped she and her sisters of much of their luxuries and—frankly—just generally everything, but they each managed to scrape together something they could enjoy in their squalor. Granted, Sonata seemingly lost all those "somethings" against a common huckster, so not everyone was as appreciative of what they had, it would seem. Aria on the other hand kept a tight hold of what little she could mustered, like a dragon would their prettiest gem. The otherwise simple halter top might not seem like much to most, but it served every need Aria had when it came down to it: it worked well for a swim top, and they certainly did her girls every favor. Both key uses when the place you stayed out required some sort of cover if you wanted to use the pool or showers, and when you're a few cents—dollars—short at the buffet. She thought so, at the very least... And the shyster sitting opposite of her must've been of the same mind. Even when Aria was lost in her own mind, lamenting the walk-through of just how her evening led her here, she still listlessly caught leering eyes set at her bust from that sneaky little trickster. The silver-haired scammer would always do her best to quickly find something of equal interest elsewhere in the sparse diner, but it seemed Sonata knew how to peg them, because those eyes would set back on the real interest again sooner or later. There really wasn't any blaming her for it. If this girl thought Sonata was something—the not-so-pretty one—Aria must've seemed a step up. Maybe not a cup up, but firmness and perk were way more attractive. Obviously. "So... Dinner? Guess you're buying since you clearly have the money of two..." It had been some time since the Siren sisters were trapped in this dismal world, and in all that time Aria had learned the least about the city they ended up squatting in. The invite was both to just get this whole affair over with, but also because she frankly didn't know the name of anywhere to eat... Or that she had no money to even buy some food. Halter tops and low-rise shorts were a powerful ensemble, but they didn't offer much in the way of pocket space. Besides, it was the least this lady could do. From the way Adagio spun it on the ride over, it was clear this woman hustled Sonata out of everything short of the clothes off her back. Which—to be fair—was something that a vending machine could accomplish given enough time. Still... The meal had already arrived and was shuffled off in the painfully awkward silence. Aria maintained a wall of scrutiny the entire time, even as she ordered several bread stick servings—free as they were—each time a waiter wandered by. The waiter had exchanged a tenuous glance with Trixie—the arbiter of her own demise in this situation—before being ushered out to placate the siren's bottomless appetite. This was not remotely the way the Great and Powerful Trixie had envisioned this night going when she had first eyed that ditsy wanderer in the street. Yet, here she was... and there she was. Trixie knew all too well what these girls were just beneath their charming facades—Sirens. In another life where she had been born a seafaring lass, maybe she would've found herself in this same situation either way; beguiled by these sultry Sirens. Maybe it was just her overly empathetic heart born from years of reading people and searching for just the right strings to pull to entice someone further into one of her treacherous webs of chicanery coming to reap what she sown. Maybe all of this was the Crook's Curse or a Trickster's Hex, and all her bad karma had come to roost. Luckily, she did not believe in such silly flights of fancy like karma. She believed in real, tangible realities. Like Sirens. Besides, there didn't even need to be magic at play to explain her lapse in judgement. She knew why she took the bait, and she knew that kind of lady she was. "So... How did you do it?" Aria broke the mind numbing silence amidst her toying with the lingering bread stick on her plate. Trixie snapped to attention and scolded her eyes internally for still leering at the barely withheld fuchsia mounds before her—the same tendency that got her in this mess! Pink mingled against the edges of her ears, mingling a somewhat adorable shade with the blue highlight of her skin. While the trickster fumbled to reality to answer, Aria couldn't help herself from cocking a slight smile at the display. For a swindling, no-good crook... She was actually pretty cute. In the right light. "H-How did I—How did I do what, per se?" Trixie adjusted herself to a more attentive stature, floundering to tuck her knuckle beneath her chin in 'thoughtful attentiveness' of her date. "I mean... Look, my sister is... Dumb. Really, really unbelievably dumb," she couldn't overstate the enormity of how empty-headed she found Sonata, "But, she doesn't trip down the stairs unless someone pushes her... You follow?" Years of practice led to this exact scenario. The dreaded snap of the cage all of Trixie's profession fear and spend every other moment preparing for. Every stage magician winces at the man who stands up and declares they know how the rabbit sprouted from the hat. But, they practice the meticulous handling of that distraction in their off hours. Alas in Trixie's case, she did not have a plant in the audience to misdirect the heckler's building insinuations. She didn't even have an audience except the one casting suspicions. That was one event they did not exactly prepare you for. But Trixie was nothing if not the pinnacle of her estate. A master illusionist, an emasculate escape artist, and had an impeccable silver tongue. "Listen... I completely understand what you mean. And I assure you, the Honest and Proper Trixie does not run any parlor tricks amidst her games," The anxious energy that oozed from Trixie all through the silent dinner shifted away to make room for this effortlessly pleased woman keeping her eyes locked into her accuser's own. For a moment, a mirror was put up to them both. Under the dim ambient lights of the diner, the amethyst hues of their eyes seemed to almost reflect the other in a perfect tone. A new silence mingled between them now. No awkward air languished about to keep the waiters from approaching, and the aura of anxiety had all but dissipated. All that remained now was a mutual dance of exchanged intentions; of reading the other, to gleam an underlying truth. And it lingered for a good long while... Trixie granting not an inch, not that there was an inch to be given in her most honest statement, of course. "...Okay... Prove it," Trixie felt her heart flutter to her throat uncontrollably when she saw the suspicious Siren slip a sultry smirk when she spoke, but she gave away nothing, "I'll play the same game as her. And if you lose, I get myself out of this whole thing—aaaaand—I get all Sonata's stuff back," she would pocket it all for herself, but they both knew that. Sirens seemed to share in the same flaw: an endless compulsion to gamble. Maybe Trixie was a Siren in another life as well, because she was already tempted at the offer. But first came one order of business... Trixie felt her lips dry and throat scratch just slightly as she adjusted herself to push towards the goal. A grift got her here, and at this point it didn't matter if it was providence or a ploy she kept stumbling into, she had to see it through to the end. The end that could only be answered by one simple question. "And if you lose?" The die was cast, and in a flurry of motion practiced a thousand times over, three coffee mugs resting on the table beside their own were snatched up and placed in their familiar pattern. Beneath one, a bread stick chewed to a nub was tucked away—a good enough stand-in for the red ball that served a secondary purpose. Trixie knew all too well what the game was for, and it mattered little as she effortlessly began to toss the cups across the table, setting them to dance a hypnotic pattern she knew from practice after practice. Off the bat without using her usual cup and ball, any shadow of a doubt should be removed for the skeptic, and Aria knew it the moment the cups began to mingle and mix. If Trixie could run the same trick with just any cup, then there would be little reason for anyone to call foul. Even if it was, it would be completely unfounded to suggest it. Trixie had already put Aria on the back-foot... And that stirred something intoxicating in the Siren. "If I lose..." Aria sucked a shuddering breath through her nose, bumps already mingling at her skin, "...We'll see what that silver tongue of yours can really do..." It was only a grift... The diner staff kept themselves painfully occupied with whatever they could find. A chore list that hadn't been tended to in weeks now was unimaginably interesting and in need of attention right this second. Moreover, the other guests that had been chatting the late hours away after their meal had to leave with no further questions; damn the tips or their leftovers. Just take the plate! The staff was not given many options in the matter when Aria snarled her command. As the left most ceramic mug tipped off the table—revealing nothing but air—a shallow, heated breath slowly shook from the Siren's throat. What followed was a thrumming command that echoed through the diner from worker to worker: "Leave." The staff had already been whispering about the situation going on in the backroom with those two new guests ever since they arrived. Something about a date or a deal or a debt, it changed from person to person throughout the night. But what they all understood as clear as a bell was what that "leave" commanded. Normally, there are rules about such things. You can't simply occupy a whole back area of a diner for that. But... That lady was really scary... So they all emptied the restaurant of patrons, and did whatever they could to just not be in that space. But also they all tried to do their best to keep their kitchen as loud and as distracting to themselves as possible... Because it was getting heated in the back. A sharp shudder of a cry croaked from Aria as she rolled her head back. One of her hands were plying at one of her own fuchsia mounds—left exposed as she tugged her halter top to one side for her ease of access. Her fingers freely dug into her perked breast, kneading at her peaks with shallow ruts. Each touch elected subtle huffs from her, but each one paled in comparison to the shuddering sighs that escaped her when her 'winner' ran a lap over her core. Trixie positioned herself betwixt the Siren's legs, her hands firmly splaying Aria wide as she sat back in her chair. Aria had already done the honors of discarding her shorts down to a single ankle, which the trickster had eagerly rewarded with her exploratory laps when all was presented. The siren could barely utter a word of pause to her wicked counterpart before lavished laps were labored across the inner lengths of her thighs. It tickled at first in the most intoxicating way, but Aria was swiftly bucked to a place of bliss when that 'silver-tongue' tapped at her quivering clit. Breathing caught tight in Aria's throat, desperate to not explode in lustful groans. She couldn't give this cheat the satisfaction, or those horny staffers a free show. No doubt they were watching with flushed faces as she toyed with herself absently and had her pussy so tenderly eaten out. No matter how good it felt, she simply could not give in. Still, that thought of defiance did not stop her from raking a nail against her own stiffened nipple or reaching her other hand down to comb through the silver maiden's hair—just in case she thought about escaping. Please, don't think of escaping... Another whimpering cry was hopelessly suppressed when Trixie latched her lips over the glistening nub of her Siren keeper, wringing it with soft needy suckles interspersed with swift laps. "Ho-oh! Fu—!" Aria couldn't help herself as the assault continued, her chair legs clattering as she spasmed in her seat. A ringing endorsement for Trixie as far as she could hear it. The illusionist's palms stroked slowly down and up the inner span of the fuchsia siren's legs, egging them on to splay that much further for her. Each micro inch Aria unconsciously relented to the shameless trickster allowed her to lavish the spasming lips with more tender kisses. Her lips hummed a forbidden melody into Aria's wanting slit, escalating the labored groans all the more. With each passing spasm Aria gave into, Trixie would notch it into the woman's clit with a puckered 'snap' of her lips over it. "I-I'll kill you if you... S-Stop...!" Aria threatened her lover-of-the-evening, but the lubricious dark hue that overtook her face did nothing to frighten Trixie. Then again, even if Trixie had responded with some smug sense of confidence to Aria's comment, the love-nectar splattered across her face from nose to chin wasn't doing her any favors either. Not that she really minded. If there was anything to be 'embarrassed' over for having on her face, a sultry siren's sexual release was not high on that list. So much so, she eagerly delved further in for more. To Aria's gasping surprise, she felt one of her legs be hoisted up from the floor and fell comfortably over the trickster's shoulder. Before she could voice any complaint, encouragement, or defiance, her jaw fell slack and her eyes fell back as Trixie took the new vantage for everything it was worth. Laps and needful little suckles evolved into a devouring of Aria's pussy, and she had little room to fight against it as she was hoisted over Trixie's care. Her legs attempted to buckle to spare some modesty, but Trixie refused to have her spoils denied as she anchored Aria's other leg at the knee to keep her impossibly wide. Unrestrained moans fell from Aria as she gaped from the pleasure, her toes flexing and knees desperately trying to knock if not for the fiend wedging herself between them. The tongue lashed like a heated whip against Aria's slit, electing shocks of pleasure each time before Trixie 'kissed' her entire mouth over the gushing entrance. The pleasent roll of stimulation that ebbed through Aria had devolved into a ceaseless tide crashing into her every nerve. Her own fingers latched against her nipple, absently twisting it and bringing a subtle crimson hue to her breasts from mounting pleasure while her other hand coiled their fingers into the growing mess that was Trixie's hair. "You're gonna—break it, you idio---ohhhh..." Her sex, her brain, Trixie's tongue which Aria had now grown very attached to; there was no real telling what she was worried about, but it was clearly not so important as giving into another rippling orgasm. For her part, Trixie paid little mind to Aria's pleas; the nectar she was feasting on was worth any kind of scolding. The trickster had been around the block for some time and had entertained herself with many different friends for the evening. They all had their quirks and upsides, but right now... Not a single one compared to eating out other-worldly pussy. Maybe it was some spark of magic that lingered in this woman that lubricated her snatch in some way, or maybe even being 'human' in this world, a siren's body was different in some way. Or maybe Trixie was just impossibly turned on after getting taunted by two gorgeous women, and now had one practically begging. Trixie let her eyes glance up and stare at the impossible sight she was privy to. A snide, cold Aria gasping and pulling at herself in the throes of pleasure. The sight made her own heart skip several beats and her splattered visage blush a bit more. Still, she was a woman of the stage and a master of showmanship; and all shows needed to end. But what self respecting show didn't end in a spectacular bang? There weren't any pyrotechnics here to punctuate the finale, but... I can at least have her seeing stars. The siren's mind was adrift in pleasure and nearly numb to the world outside of her. Those horny workers could be watching them right this second and she wouldn't give a damn. Nothing mattered more than this second. Though her attention was gently called back when she felt Trixie's hand abandon her knee and for a second Aria considered letting her legs slip shut to deny Trixie any further. But, doing that would ruin her own pleasure... And her legs were jelly regardless at this point and unresponsive to her wants. Aria did not need to linger on the thought for long before she felt a cool breeze brush against her lathered passage as Trixie peeled the lips apart between her index finger and ring. The siren swallowed as she felt herself become that much more exposed, her inner walls now on display for Trixie to gawk at. And while the sight was amazing to the young trickster—the pink-ish walls puckering and flexing from labored pleasure and wanton desire—she had a show to conclude. Lips latched over the waiting passage and fingers vigorously caressed the splayed petals, letting arousal and saliva litter against the siren's thighs as she yelped. All pretense of wanting to remain quiet was cast away as Aria howled in ecstasy. "Fuck! Don't ever stop!" Aria croaked out between gritted teeth one moment then a gaping mouth the next. Profanities spilled like sweet nothings from your true love, though far more crass and demanding towards a fling in the evening. Each harsh cry and labored groan from the previous suspicious-siren urged Trixie on and she flexed her fingers and tongue against their prize. Like a lockpicker fiddling for that sweet release to the treasure at hand, Trixie toyed with Aria's pussy and clit vigorously; though unlike a lockpick, she knew exactly where to prod and press to send the siren into a spiral. Aria's arms fell slack to her side as every nerve of hers was washed with pleasure, and she simply fell into Trixie entirely. Helpless yet demanding words still trickled from Aria as she had her entire being played through her most precious area. Sonata made a lot of mistakes in life her sisters would berate her for... But for once, she stumbled into a real winner. In spite of their lack of strength, Aria's legs tensed with the last bit of might they had as she squealed forth her final sound. The Siren sisters were supposedly unable to sing their hypnotic songs anymore, but Trixie might have been mistaken of that given the way she found herself enthralled with the 'song' Aria sang in her final concerto of pleasure. A final spray decorated Trixie's face nearly in its entirety as she peeled herself from the well-fucked pussy of her paramour. For a moment, she just admired her work quivering before her. That... Was worth everything... Time passed between the two of them as they simply relished in the moment. Aria heaved her half exposed chest as tired as if she had run a five mile dash, yet far more satisfied from the experience. Trixie ran her tongue at the corner of her own lips, lavishing herself in the sweet taste of a siren's sex still glistening against her. And for a time, their joined breathing—labored from the profane act they carried out in the back of some random diner—was all that existed in the musky room they occupied. "That was... not unenjoyable..." Aria finally managed to croak out, some nectar spitting free of her gaping slit at the effort. "You taste... very good, ma'am..." There was no way for Trixie to sound cool in this moment, still lapping up residue from her fingers like a fiend. Neither one was willing to depart just yet, lost in their own bliss; but also unwilling to give the other the satisfaction of whatever came next. So they each remained, drunk on their own satisfaction and listlessly drifting back into themselves until the moment passed. All the while, subtle whispers began to crawl up through the kitchen deeper in the diner as wandering eyes retreated to where they were supposed to stay. Maybe a little grift now and then isn't such a bad thing...