Twice Two

Nymphia constantly felt that Plane was attracting too much attention. Of course, it had always been that way, and that’s what Nymphia liked about her, but now she had the feeling that whoever was next to Plane, they all wanted to get her into bed. And even though Plane didn’t give any reason for jealousy, Nymphia couldn’t get rid of that feeling and didn’t know what to do with it. She couldn’t just punch them all — at that rate she’d have to see a psychiatrist. She tried not to show her resentment and not to snap at Plane, just throwing a haughty look at the suspicious types and carefully pulling Plane away from them. But one day everything got out of control. Nymphia was coming home in the afternoon and, entering the hall, heard quiet voices that seemed familiar. They were discussing something and laughing. Nymphia stopped to wait for the elevator and suddenly realized that one of the speakers was none other than Plane. Nymphia moved on and rushed down the corridor. Plane was standing next to a middle-aged man whom Nymphia sometimes met on the floor. Plane noticed her and nodded, and the neighbor politely greeted her. Without answering, Nymphia turned around and rushed into the elevator that had just arrived. Plane ran after her, but the elevator door had already closed, and in rage she hit the door with her hand. Finally reaching the floor, Plane burst into the apartment, shouting, ‘What are you doing again?’ Nymphia was hysterically picking things up from the floor and throwing them into a pile. ‘What are you doing? Now you’re flirting with the neighbor?’ she lashed out at Plane. Plane almost burst from outrage — her eyes were so wide it looked like they’d pop out of their sockets. ‘Have you lost your mind? What neighbor? He’s got three kids, he lives with his wife next door.’ ‘Yeah? But that didn’t stop you once before!’ Plane was stunned that Nymphia suddenly remembered a story she’d once told. How could she even connect all that? ‘Listen, I’m sick of your paranoia!’ Plane exclaimed. ‘Why was it fine all year when we were apart, but now you see my potential lovers in every man — even old straight guys?’ ‘Because I don’t want to share you with anyone. Got it?’ Nymphia screamed the last word and burst into tears. ‘And what now, I’m supposed to sit locked up waiting for you? Why are you hiding me from everyone? Why don’t you want to tell people about us? Say it now — it’s the perfect time.’ Without thinking, Nymphia blurted out, ‘Because you need all the attention. If we show up together anywhere, everyone only looks at you. You can’t stand it when someone else gets admiration — you have to jump in and show yourself. You even came to the damn finale in that silly hut, even though you knew you wouldn’t win.’ The cruel truth crashed down on Plane. She had never thought about it, and now Nymphia opened her eyes to everything. But Plane didn’t want to admit it. ‘So that’s it? I stop you from existing?’ she asked grimly. ‘Then I don’t even understand why I’m next to you.’ ‘Don’t understand? Then go!’ Nymphia pointed at the door. ‘If you don’t like it, nobody’s holding you. I didn’t make you come here, and if you don’t like it here either, find yourself another home.’ Furious, Plane rushed to the closet and began pulling out clothes. Nymphia silently watched her, breathing heavily. ‘Thanks for pushing me to pack early for the trip. Sorry, but the rest of my things will stay here. I’m not dragging them back and forth.’ Under Nymphia’s sharp gaze, Plane packed all her performance outfits, accessories, makeup and wigs, plus a few casual items. ‘Just don’t throw the rest out the window,’ Plane said firmly. ‘I’ll fly back and pick them up.’ Nymphia said nothing, crossing her arms over her chest. Plane gave her one last look, grabbed her suitcase and left the apartment.  

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Plane arrived in London with mixed feelings. They were supposed to come together, with a luxurious hotel room waiting. Now she was stuck there alone. She expected at least one message from Nymphia all this time, but none came. Mirage, however, called three times — apparently Nymphia told her everything and she wanted the details. Checking into the hotel, Plane collapsed onto the huge bed — which had its own plans — and dialed Mirage. As usual, Mirage was walking somewhere, her phone shaking wildly. ‘And what’s with all the calls?’ Plane asked without a hint of annoyance. She really did want to chat with her. ‘I want to know everything!’ Mirage blurted, looking down at the screen. ‘Didn’t you already find out?’ Plane teased. ‘I need your version,’ Mirage insisted, distracted by the screen, not noticing a tree branch that smacked her in the face. ‘Alright, Nancy Drew,’ Plane said mysteriously. ‘And will you share what Nymphia told you?’ Mirage shook her head, staring into the distance. ‘Do I look like a snitch? At most I can give solid advice. But I need the full picture. Hold on.’ The screen shook into a blur, with loud breathing in the background. When Mirage’s face came back into view, Plane was staring at her in surprise. ‘I crossed the road,’ Mirage explained. ‘So what happened between you two?’ Plane sighed. ‘It’s really bad. Maybe we shouldn’t have moved in together. Then none of this would’ve happened…’ ‘That bad? But if you could change it, isn’t there anything you wouldn’t regret later?’ Mirage asked philosophically. Plane thought. For the first time she had gone to Nymphia’s shows, and every time she felt incredible joy. And despite the fights, their nights together were amazing. Plane definitely kept good memories, but she had no desire to keep living with her. At least not until they talked it out. ‘Why did you run away from her?’ Mirage kept interrogating. ‘I didn’t run anywhere,’ Plane replied in a businesslike tone. ‘I’ve got a show tomorrow here, by the way.’ ‘What did she do?’ Mirage insisted. Plane felt a strong urge to complain to someone. It had been a long time, and Mirage was perfect for the role of listener. ‘I just can’t stay with her anymore!’ Plane began angrily. ‘She always sees some kind of cheating. Whoever passes me — she thinks they’re after me. Even some old neighbor — and she thinks he wants to hook up with me!’ ‘That’s because she loves you a lot,’ Mirage said wisely. ‘From what I’ve heard, you yourself encouraged them to behave like that more than once. Didn’t you?’ ‘Well, yeah…’ Plane admitted. ‘And why did you tease her?’ Mirage asked sternly. ‘Because I wanted to!’ Plane exclaimed. ‘It drives me mad that she pretends we don’t even know each other, and at least this way she remembered me and instantly showed up next to me. And then… things happened.’ Plane didn’t continue — let Mirage use her imagination if she wanted to picture every detail. ‘Yeah, I know what happened,’ Mirage glared at her phone. ‘You left her there alone, and now you’re having fun here!’ ‘I left her? Really? She kicked me out herself — I thought she’d throw me down the stairs and give me a kick for good measure.’ ‘Yeah?’ Mirage frowned. ‘Funny, I’ve got a different version…’ ‘And what’s that?’ Plane asked with interest. ‘Nope!’ Mirage stopped. ‘Not telling you a thing! Sort it out yourselves, I’ve got to go.’ ‘Mirage, wait! You promised advice.’ ‘Just get ready for your shows and forget Nymphia for now,’ Mirage replied. ‘Otherwise you’ll fight again and your tour will go down the drain.’ ‘Alright,’ Plane sighed. She hoped Mirage would somehow talk to Nymphia and that she’d call. But it seemed like they, as adults, would have to solve the problem themselves. Nymphia didn’t write the next day either. Plane tossed her phone aside and started getting ready. She decided to arrive at the club early to distract herself from thoughts about Nymphia. She was supposed to perform on the same stage with two local drag queens. She didn’t know them in person, but their names often appeared online. One of them was a girl named LaBelle. She wasn’t anything special, and Plane greeted her dryly. LaBelle, however, was impressed with Plane and started going on about how amazing the sixteenth season was and what an incredible cast it had. Her pushiness annoyed Plane, and treating her as if she were stating the obvious, she quickly left the dressing room. The whole evening Plane couldn’t shake off LaBelle’s gaze. Usually she ignored admiring looks, taking them for granted, but LaBelle was acting oddly. Even during her performance, Plane caught her hungry eyes on her — sharper than all the audience’s stares combined. Plane didn’t enjoy the show, so after changing she decided to stay in the club and, to really let loose, order a few cocktails. LaBelle had just left the stage when Plane was already too relaxed from the drinks. She pulled out her phone again, hoping for a message from Nymphia, and seeing nothing as usual, she decided to make the first move. Somewhere deep inside she felt this wasn’t the right moment. Her head was foggy, and she didn’t even know what she was going to say. Her finger was almost on the call button when she heard a voice, ‘Relaxing, sweetie?’ and LaBelle appeared before her eyes. She was still in drag. Plane nodded. Noticing her puzzled look, LaBelle explained, ‘I was so eager to join you that I decided not to change. Well, almost,’ she added playfully and took a drink. Plane decided to follow her lead, realizing she should probably stop. But being next to LaBelle felt much easier in this state. LaBelle wasted no time, whispered something in Plane’s ear and started groping her ass. It seemed Plane had been right when she said everyone wanted her. And Nymphia was right too — Plane could fall under their pressure. ‘Well, Nymphia,’ she thought. ‘Looks like you finally got what you wanted.’ LaBelle had already started shoving her tongue into her mouth when Plane pulled away from her and said, ‘Honey, if you don’t mind, I’ll capture this for history.’ Plane pulled out her phone, and under the camera’s eye LaBelle gladly kept up her dirty groping. While LaBelle was choosing another drink, Plane posted the video on Instagram and, switching off her phone, gave her drinking acquaintance a cold look. ‘Now follow me!’ Plane ordered harshly and headed toward the restroom. Tormented by resentment at Nymphia and by suddenly awakened arousal, Plane pushed LaBelle into a stall and, shutting the door, leaned against her with her back. Pleased, LaBelle wrapped her arms around her neck and was about to latch onto Plane again, but Plane stretched out her palm, covering her mouth. The last thing she needed was for LaBelle to get any ideas and hope for affection from Plane. LaBelle showed no displeasure and, teasingly licking Plane’s palm, reached for her pants. Staring with shameless eyes, she sank down onto the questionably clean tile and began unzipping her fly. LaBelle’s hands, already quite drunk, wouldn’t obey her, and Plane clicked her tongue in irritation and cast a haughty look down at the crown of her head. At last, with some effort, LaBelle managed the task and freed a half‑erect cock. ‘Really?’ Plane’s inner voice said with sarcasm. She kept drilling her gaze into LaBelle’s crown, already imagining how she’d press her against the wall and tear off that damn wig. Why hadn’t she changed after the show? Had she rushed to meet Plane, afraid she’d get tired of the club and leave? Or did LaBelle think she’d attract her with that sugary girlish face? Plane grimaced at the thought. ‘What the fuck difference does it make?’ Plane thought with irritation and rising arousal, grabbing LaBelle by the fake hair, but the wig was surprisingly firm. ‘Fuck,’ Plane thought, turning her eyes back to the fidgeting LaBelle. That brazen girl even dared lift her drunken eyes at Plane and give a lewd grin. It only made Plane more disgusted to look at her, so she turned her gaze away, remembering for a split second that distant sex on the plane. That fleeting thought hit Plane harder than LaBelle’s diligent moves. ‘Oh-oh,’ LaBelle whistled, staring at the impressive size. ‘What, did your ass get scared?’ a spiteful thought flashed through Plane’s mind. LaBelle didn’t stay surprised for long and, with all the know‑how, leaned her lips toward the cock, holding it tightly, but at that moment the image of Nymphia appeared again in Plane’s mind, gazing at her with desire from below. She placed her palms on LaBelle’s shoulders, pushing her away and feeling how wrong it all was. ‘Ah, fuck it! Found the time to think about Nymphia,’ Plane thought, snapping out of it. LaBelle raised her head, her face showing extreme confusion. ‘Go on already,’ Plane nudged her condescendingly. LaBelle didn’t need to be asked twice. She started sliding down on the cock as if for the last few years no one had dared to entrust her with their goods. The thought made Plane a little uneasy, but LaBelle worked diligently, and Plane relaxed. Coughing, LaBelle pulled her mouth off for a moment, intending to continue, but Plane grabbed the cock and rasped, ‘Enough, get up.’ LaBelle obediently stood, and that only enraged Plane more. Why was she so obedient? Just like a house dog. Nymphia, of course, had also always happily fulfilled Plane’s requests and desires. But Nymphia was allowed to be submissive. And why wasn’t this one resisting? Plane’s thoughts were cut short by LaBelle, who had already pulled her slit skirt and panties down to her knees and, clumsily grunting, tried to loosen her almost ready hole with one hand while running the other along the cock. ‘She performed untucked? How unprofessional,’ Plane noted, turning LaBelle to face the door and switching places with her. ‘And why did she come here already prepared? Instead of working, had she planned to fuck someone? Or was that “someone” me from the start?’ Hearing the sound of a condom wrapper tearing behind her, LaBelle moaned hopefully, ‘You’ve got lube, right?’ ‘Sorry, darling, but I don’t carry pencil cases with me,’ Plane chuckled. ‘Fuck,’ LaBelle said in despair and felt Plane’s cold fingers inside her. ‘This bitch put in some effort,’ Plane thought and decided not to waste time, pulling her fingers out and pushing her cock in almost to the hilt. ‘Fuck, Plane, you’re such an idiot,’ her inner voice sighed. ‘Not a pity to wreck the slut’s ass, but you could’ve spared yourself, no?’ But there was no turning back, and after adding more spit to the cock, Plane grabbed LaBelle by the ponytail and started pounding into her. LaBelle screamed, louder than the blaring music, but judging by the tone and looseness, it wasn’t from pain. Apparently, after all the booze, her pain receptors had taken a vacation, only to come back to her ass in double force the next morning. Plane herself had drunk plenty too, so her own receptors were just as dulled. ‘Well, Nymphia, you’re not the only one I can take from behind,’ Plane thought maliciously and finally ripped LaBelle’s wig off, tossing it into the toilet. LaBelle didn’t even notice the loss and kept moaning, shaking her hips. With no ponytail left in her hand, Plane needed something to replace it with, so she stuffed LaBelle’s noisy mouth, which instantly reminded her of Nymphia. ‘Motherfucker!’ Plane muttered in frustration and simply braced her hand against the door, not wanting to touch LaBelle any more than necessary. ‘Plane, you’re so fucking incredible!’ LaBelle cried out. ‘I know without your whining,’ Plane thought, and seeing LaBelle had already finished, she sped up, wanting to get what she came for as fast as possible, agreeing to this whole gamble. When she came, Plane leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily and refusing to admit whose image had helped her. LaBelle took it as a sign of deep satisfaction and crawled up to Plane with kisses. Plane didn’t realize what was happening right away and only fully came to when LaBelle was already sliding down her neck. ‘That’s enough,’ Plane pushed her away and began tidying herself up. ‘We’ll do this again when you come back to London, won’t we?’ LaBelle cooed, pulling on her tights or whatever she had under that short skirt. Plane mumbled something vague and stumbled out of the stall. ‘You’re such a fucking idiot, Plane,’ she thought, leaving the club. ‘But now we’re even, baby.’