Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

We work together.

We have interoffice messenger that we use internally to communicate to each other about work related issues. We work on opposite ends of the building. There has been some noticeable electricity between us, bumping into each other entering or exiting the ladies room, one catching the other staring at a silk stocking covered leg at a staff meeting, a discreet innuendo in passing, or just the smell of your perfume. I am tall and brunette, curvy with 36c breasts and long strong legs. You are a brunette also, your hair is cut in a short, sexy, flirty style. You have smaller breasts and a petite build.

One afternoon I head to the ladies room. When I enter, I see you hastily dabbing a paper towel against your white blouse, you’ve gotten water all over it. You look pretty upset, apparently because you don’t want to leave the ladies room and show your nipples off to the entire world since they are showing right through the thin wet fabric.

I approach you and stand at the next sink, I look over towards you, “Boy that’s a bummer. Can I help? Do you have a spare blouse I can get for you?”

You frown at me, “No I don’t, but it will be ok this thin material will dry quickly.”

While I walk into a stall and close the door behind me, you thank me for being so kind and tell me you’d like to get to know me better because you sense we have some things in common. I smile behind the door, finish my business, button up, and exit to wash my hands.

Your blouse is nearly dry, when you excuse yourself and leave the ladies room, you purposely walk close behind me and rub your breasts across my back, “Oh, excuse me, I lost my balance there for a moment.”

My face is as red and hot as a chili pepper. I feel that rush of tingly sexual energy surge through my body. I smile and tell you, “No problem.” Of course it isn’t a problem, I loved it!

Business continues as usual without a word spoken about the bathroom incident, though antalya escort I’ve spent many a night touching myself thinking about those soft breasts as you ‘accidentally’ pressed them against my back.

A short few weeks later it’s late on a Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend. The office is a ghost town, a few die hards working here and there. It’s about 2:30 in the afternoon. In an effort to refresh myself for the rest of the afternoon, and banish the sleepiness, I walk to the ladies room to splash some cold water on my face, and imagine who I see? You’re leaning against the sink, arms folded across your chest.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“The man in the cube next to me is fighting with his wife, and I really just needed a break, so I’m taking an extra-long pee break.” You explain to me.

We begin to chit chat about the crazy week, and holiday plans. I can’t help but notice that you’re wearing that same sheer white blouse again, which makes me ache to touch your nipples. You also have on a short black skirt and black heels, you look SO hot and sexy I can hardly stand it. Something unexplainable comes over me. I take a few steps backward and lock the ladies room door. I walk towards you. You know what I want and you want it too. You are smiling at me in an evil HOT way. I press your shoulder blades against the wall and kiss your mouth deeply, with my tongue roaming all over your mouth and nibbling at your bottom lip, sucking on it, pulling it towards me. You lipstick is sweet to the taste.

As we kiss I loosen the buttons on your blouse. I lean towards you and bite one nipple, HARD, and then the next one, hard again. You suck in your breath and lift your leg up, rubbing it along mine, curling it around me like you’re going to climb a tree. We both want more, but I pull away from you, kiss your sweet mouth again, and as I’m unlocking the bathroom door to leave, I tell you to meet me back in muratpaşa escort the bathroom at 5pm after everyone has gone home. I leave you speechless and looking a little bit shaky

I want to give you some time to think about how it felt, and what you want, and quite frankly, I need some time to steel my nerves enough to make love to you properly.

The clock moves so slowly as I wrap up my day. I check my email, send a text home to my husband that I’m running late, clean up my desk trying not to think about what’s about to happen, but I know for sure that my pussy is buzzing and wet.

I hear the last worker shout “Have a great holiday!” and the lights all go out but mine…I head to the ladies room. You couldn’t even wait until 5, you’re already there. You have that same smile of knowing lust on your face. Your blouse mostly unbuttoned. I lock the door again. It’s on.

“Are you as wet as me?” I ask.

You respond with breathless words, “Why don’t you tell me?”

I take your hand, and lead you to the small locker room off the end of the bathroom area. There is a bench there, built into the wall on one end, a shower on the other.

It’s then that you begin to strip for me, swaying your lovely hips to imaginary music, running your hands over your breasts, still covered by your camisole and your blouse, though partially unbuttoned. Your nipples would have popped out at that point but they’ve probably been rock hard since 2:30. When you unzip and wriggle out of your skirt, I see modest black lacy bikinis with your cute cheeks peeking out. Your blouse drops, your creamy tanned shoulders gleaming in the fluorescent lights. You reach for my hand, for balance, and step up onto the bench, toes pointed at the wall.

You bend over just enough that your puffy pussy lips jut out from between your legs. “For the love of god, please just touch me, kiss me, lick me, antalya anal yapan escort slap me, something, just do it quick!” you gasp.

I don’t want to disappoint such a sweet girl. I move forward placing my hands on your hips. I spend a few moments lavishing some attention on your butt, slapping, stroking, kissing, licking, you are moaning and whimpering, breathing heavier by the minute. I reach up, and grab your breasts, gently pulling on them, forcing you to lean over further,

“That’s a good girl” I whisper, “give me better access to that sweet split peach that I’m about to devour.”

When I begin, I gently run my tongue over your lips, so gently you could barely feel it, yet you can feel it VERY intensely (I know you know that feeling) The next stroke is deeper, I push my tongue deeper, tasting your juices, you begin to grind your hips a little bit, wanting more I’m sure. I kneel on the bench between your feet, holding your legs I tip my head back, and tickle your clit with the tip of my tongue.

The one tickle to your clit had you bucking against my face, you smell and taste so good, I stand again, and continue to deliver soft slow gentle laps to the length of your pretty peachy pussy making sure to pay attention to your cheeks, perineum and anus making you shriek. I slide two fingers deep inside of you. There is resistance because you are so dripping wet. I start to fuck you slowly but firmly, I feel your muscles begin to tighten around my fingers, your breathing quickens. I reach my free hand around again to squeeze your breast, your hand closes over mine, and you squeeze hard,

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming” is all that I can hear from you. Your cheek is pressed against the cool wall. Your legs are quivering when as your orgasm subsides. I help you down, and you collapse against me, glistening with dewy sweat, panting and smiling.

I’m still completely dressed, I just want to work on you over and over again all night, but I lower both of us to sit on the bench for a few minutes to gather ourselves. We kiss sweetly and softly, you tell me how much you like the taste of yourself on my mouth. I have to agree the taste was intoxicating. We continue to kiss and I touch your breasts while the final shudders of post orgasm ripple through you.

Till next time…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Disclaimer: Okay, this is the story that I wanted to write before I wrote the Amber and Miriam ones. I had to change it just a bit but the essence of the story remains true. I reunited with my first love, the first girl that made me experience the joys of Sapphic sex. I would tell you how we met, how we got together the first time but all of that will be implied in the story. I want people to know that this story is about two 27 old women reuniting to love each other not just as BFFs or ‘sisters’, but the lovers that we were meant to be, I hope everyone enjoys it.

Friday, Oct 16th (12 pm):

I was on my lunch break working as a librarian assistant when I get a call on my IPhone. I saw Nay’s name and I immediately smiled as I answered, “Sis! What do I owe this pleasurable day that to get a call from you?”

Reneé exclaimed, “Girl, stop actin’ so ‘bougie’! I know you’re at work and all but I need to talk to you for a minute.”

I asked, “Is everything okay?”

She said, “Everything is good. I just wanna spend time with my sis. I told Sam that I miss my ‘sis’ and I wanna spend the weekend with you.”

I wisecracked, “No one told you to become an old married woman at a young age. The only ‘Girl’s Night Out’ you have these days is with Ruthie and Essie. *Chuckles* BTW, are you bringing those adorable ‘nieces’ of mine?”

“No,” she said, “I want a ‘Ladies’ Weekend’ with you.”

I again wisecracked, “Aight, now!”

She whined, “Stop it, Bun! Seriously, we have a lot to catch up on and I need a break right now.”

(“Bun” is short for “Bunny” which is the nickname she has called me ever since I was 10 because of the size of my ears.)

I asked with concern, “Are you sure everything is good with you, Nay?”

She told me, “I am fine.”

I could hear the apprehension in her voice when she asked, “So do you want me to come down or do you have other plans?”

I told her, “I was going to carve some pumpkins for Halloween but I will do it next weekend. I might be single but my life is boooooring! Still, I will always make time for you.”

“Good”, she said. “Carving pumpkins? What you should do is paint them ‘flesh pumpkins’ of yours and use ’em as Halloween decorations outside. No one would ever forget Halloween if you did this!”

She laughed out loud and laughing with her, I cracked, “Shut your mouth! You are too much, girl. Leave ‘Lanita’ and ‘Regina’ alone. Like a good witch, I only use my ‘powers’ and ‘charms’ for good. You just bring your tall, big ol’ booty over, aight?”

“Yes, ma’am”, she joked, “I’ll be at Casa De Syreata at 7:30.”

“Perfect”, I said with another genuine smile adding, “I love you, ‘Sis’.”

“I love you more, ‘Bun'”, she said and then she hung up.

After I finished my lunch break, the rest of day was as uneventful as a day in the library can be. I helped out patrons, catalogue CDs and books and then I finished my day. Sophie invited me to dinner but I told that I would have to take a “rain-check” because I had other plans. She understood and we said good-bye to each other.

I drove home with more enthusiasm and energy than I normally do because most Fridays I want to sleep in my bed. I am not the party club person that I used to be. Like I said, my life is boring these days. I don’t get to see Reneé in person as often as like so this is a treat.

I admittedly had concern because one thing I could say about her is that she has the life of a young woman who a lot of hetero women would be jealous of. She’s a great wife to Sam who excels at being a stay at home mom. She did put her dream of owning a hair beauty salon and I always wondered if she was really happy doing that but I knew she loved her family. So my biggest red-flag was that she would never leave Ruthie and Essie or come see me without them. Nevertheless, I always looked forward to seeing her.

It was a long time since we hung out the way she said she wanted and I most definitely missed her. Whatever troubled her, she would eventually tell me and I would be there listening to her without condemnation as she would for me. I got home and the first thing I did was take off my clothes so that I could shower. I turned on my IPhone playlist because the sound of music and water pouring me relaxes me like nothing else.

I got out, dried myself off, put perfume spray and deodorant on and then put baby powder on “the girls” because they will smell musky if I don’t. I know that’s ETMI but I keeps it 100. I debated putting on another bra especially I wore on all day. But I loved the new bras I got from Miriam so I wore on my comfy soft cup 36Ms instead of the 34Ms.

Then I put on my red boy-short panties and finally, my pajama pants. I’m ready. The doorbell rings. I’m surprised that she didn’t call me so that I could answer the door for her.

I answered it and exclaimed, “Nay, you’re here! Come in, come in! You didn’t bring a lot of suitcases so I guess everything antalya escort bayan is okay.”

“Always with jokes,” she said smiling. “I love you too. Can I put my stuff in the guest room?”

I answered, “I’ll put it in there. You can unpack whenever you like. Relax. There is some red wine and food. You know where the fridge is.”

She went to the fridge and I took the opportunity to take her all in. Sisterly thoughts weren’t the only thoughts I was having concerning her. First of all, even in the story I wrote about Miriam I’ve never described how she looks: She’s 5’11” with cocoa brown skin, attention-commanding dark brown eyes, full pouty lips, and shoulder length thick dark brown hair. She also has long thick legs, a small waist with a lot of hips and ass. She has the kind of ass that had me masturbating many nights of her sitting on my face while eating her pussy.

Lastly but certainly not least since I am a “breast-girl”, she’s no longer the 32B that she barely filled out before Ruthie and Esther. Now she fills out a 36F. They’re pendulous but are nice and full. Not to mention, I love her speaking voice. It’s soft, husky with a sing-song melodic lit especially when she’s happy.

However, I didn’t want to just ogle her. I was here to enjoy her company for the next 3 days. For the next 3 hours, we were talking, laughing and reminiscing over some of the great times we had together. Everything was normal, as normal as relationship as our relationship had morphed into since our high school days.

Then it happened and what transpired has turned my once predictable world upside down. We were still listening to music which is one of the ways we bond because we’re both music lovers. Ironically the song that was on at the time was Toni Braxton’s “Let it Flow.” Yes, my taste is that old school. We were sitting on the couch.

We were done reminiscing when Reneé said, “This is why I came down here. I miss this. Hanging with you, you know.”

I agreed, feeling a bit tipsy from the red wine as I grabbed her hand. “I know, Reneé. Just like when we were younger.”

She clenched my hand before remarking in her wisecracking manner, “Not exactly, you know.”

I questioned, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” she countered. “Stop playin’, Syreata! You know we’ve never talked about it.”

My response was, “Well you know why, right? What went on at ___ or ___ ________ Ave. stays at __ or ___ _______ Ave!”

We both laughed.

Then she said, “I always wondered would our lives would have been if I had not moved.”

I looked into her eyes and said, “We both went on the path that we were supposed to go. At least we didn’t lose touch with each other. I love you, Reneé Maliah Rose-James.”

“I love you too”, she said, “But you don’t understand why I left my husband and two daughters to be here.”

She took a few seconds to pause, seemingly get her thoughts together.

Then she furthered explained, “I do love Sam, you know. He’s the father of my children. He’s also intelligent and he’s so selfless. Always putting me above himself and I am 95% sure than he is faithful to me.”

I bantered, “You’re only 95% trust him?”

She shushed, “Girl, let me finish!”

I jested laughingly, “Whatever!”

She continued after our banter, “To be truthful, I wish he was unfaithful so that I could have an excuse to feel the way that I do. This wine isn’t strong enough to help me say the things that I want to say”

Standing up, she slowly took off her shirt and then her bra to expose her 36Fs with long hard erect nipples and delicious 4 inch wide areolas. My eyes widened a bit in disbelief not because I was in awe of their size but that she actually had the nerve to do this. She’s the conservative one out of the two of us.

Then she said with a smile in her melodic voice, “‘Show and Tell’ time, sweetie!”

I paused a bit before saying, “At your request.” I proceeded to match her action. I heard a sharp intake of breath and a barely audible gasp. I saw her smile become brighter.

She said, “Good girl! You really don’t have any idea just how beautiful you really are. Don’t you, Syreata? You have the most beautiful hazel eyes, Syreata Shaunaé Sanders. You hate that you have vitiligo but I always loved the contrasting hues of your skin. You’re kind, loyal, funny, sweet, giving, and you’re much more courageous than me. You were willing to come out as a lesbian and we grew up in the same community with similar experiences. I wish I had the nerve to do the same.”

I asked in perplexed and puzzled disbelief, “What are you saying, Reneé?”

She seemed to avoid my question.

Suddenly, as if her mind went to a faraway place, she started speaking in a low tone, “You know, after I moved, I wanted to start over. I was a new girl in a new environment. I was so scared. All I wanted to do was fit in. antalya otele gelen escort But believe me I struggled. I struggled real hard. Always found girls, females, women extremely irresistible, attractive, and gorgeous. I wanted to believe that I could hide but I was lying to myself because breasts, really large breasts, have always been my weakness.

“You, of all people should know this. I missed ‘us’ so much. You just don’t know! There was this girl named Yasmine, we called her Jazzie, Yasmine Santiago. She reminded me so much of you when we were all around that age. She was short with meat on her bones and big ‘ol boobs just like you. What size were you when you when you was a senior in High School, ‘Bun’?”

I reluctantly yet proudly declared, “My true size back then was a 30JJ. Yep, a JJ Cup in UK sizing.”

Nay respond with enthusiasm, “That’s right! You were that size back then. I remember all your growth experiences.”

I smiled again.

She continued, “Bun, you were big time temptation for me then. That’s why for a while we had those awkward moments. I didn’t know how to explain me wanting to be ‘normal’ and still wanting what we once had. I go to high school in a different part of the state and there is another big temptation named Jazzie. Her only ‘crime’ was being a threat to all my efforts to be hetero.

“She was also a senior. She had 32GG boobs. [I raised my eyebrows in surprised approval] She was so proud of ’em always bragging about them. That’s the reason why everyone knew her size and was rumored to be quite generous with sharin’ ’em with other girls at school. One of our teachers, a female, was fired ‘cuz she loved samplin’ Jazzie’s ‘charms’ as you like to say. When the ‘da hood’ found out, she was ‘slut-shamed’ so hard that her fam moved away to project her. It was so sad. I never saw her again. I used to have erotic fantasies of you comin’ to my school as a student so that y’all could have a ‘boob turf war’ to see who could put the other in her place.”

I proclaimed, “That would have been fun!”

“Hmmm-mmm,” she enthusiastically agreed.

Then she confessed, “I fingered my pussy all the time dreamin’ of y’all two. With her rep though, that helped me stay far away from her and all potential lesbian experiences. That included college and there obviously many attractive hotties at Rutgers. I put my focus on succeeding in the books and no focus on the male gender.

“Then I met Samuel and he became my ‘escape’. Escape from all the questions: When are you going to find a good man? Do you like men? Don’t you want to have children? I wasn’t even 20 and out of college yet when I first started getting those questions. So I didn’t do this to intentionally hurt Sam. He really is a good man and any hetero woman would love to have him. Yet I love women. Big breasted women and it is your fault, Bun! You corrupted me, Boo.”

I barbed with lighthearted sass, “Don’t blame me for your perverted ways!”

A duet of laughter ensued.

A few seconds passed before I asked the one question that I want to ask her ever since she told this bombshell that has truly baffled my mind because this came out of left-field, “But you chose to play for ‘The Other Team’, though. I understand why. What I want to know is why are you’re telling me this now? Reneé, I love you too but you’re a married woman now and to a man at that.”

There was a pregnant pause as she seemed to ponder my question. Then she nodded with her eyes closed before looking intently at me.

She answered, “Like I said, Syreata, I was scared, confused and the last thing I wanted to do was pull you into my confusion. All I knew was that you went on with your life after us. I was just happy to still be your ‘sis’ though I still loved you. If I got caught out there with another girl or if I came out, I would have to explain. To my family and that meant this would’ve involved you. I couldn’t do that to you. I loved you too much and when you came out all the way, I was still in my denial phase and then I got caught with up Sam after that. You have no idea how jealous seeing you with other girls and women but I had to deal. I made my bed, you know. I’m tired of lying in this bed and lying to myself. All to deny the struggle I have had for so long. I always loved you and I want to show how much I love you now.”

She had with tears in her eyes when she finished what she told me. It pained me to see her pain which I could see vividly in her eyes. I scooted over to her on the couch.

I whispered to her, drying her tears with my hands, “It is okay. I love you too. I love you too.”

I looked up at her and we ‘reunited’ with a light, soft kiss. We pulled away, look into each other’s eyes and did it again with more intensity this time. She was lightly fondling and rubbing the sides of my breasts while I was rubbing her lower back. We antalya sınırsız escort kissed some more, then I pulled away, stood up to lead her to my bedroom. We took off the last bit of clothing we had and threw them on the floor.

I was going to take the initiative as the “experienced one” and make love to her but she stopped me and said, “No, Syreata. Let me show you how much I love you.”

She kissed me again. On my lips, then my right earlobe and down my neck. Every kiss was soft but with intent and purpose. I could smell wine on her breath. Down past my neck-bone, my breastbone to “Lanita” and “Regina” which as all of you know is my “nicknames” for my breasts.

She paused and went to her knees when she got to them and actually whispered, “I can’t wait to worship y’all again.”

Her voyage began with holding up “Nita”(my left breast) with both hands, bouncing them in her hands playfully to get use to its girth and heft. Then a kiss followed. More soft kisses followed. Reneé licked my nipple, then around the areola before retreating to the nipple.

I moaned, “Do that Nay! Do that!”

“I see ‘Nita’s’ getting so hard and ‘she’s’ such a big beautiful girl”, she whispered happily

After another 3 quick licks of the nipple, she put her in her mouth; slow and soft. Then I heard an audible exhale as she put as much of “Nita” as she could possibly could. She couldn’t fit all of my areola in her full mouth. It wasn’t for lack of effort! She continued to suck gradually harder and more deliberate before taking “Nita” out of her mouth as I moaned my delight as her efforts.

I delightfully continued to encourage her, “Jesus, Reneé, that mouth of yours! Suck that tit!”

Then she took it out and slapped her chin twice with it as if she was punishing herself for surrendering to her carnal desires.

However, she gleefully declared, “I could do this all day!”

We both smiled at each other.

She slapped her chin a couple more times. She licked around the areola some more before going back to more suction style sucking.

“Mmm”, she moaned as she was sucking.

I felt shivers enjoying every moment.

Backing away for air, she looked at “Regina” which is my right boob.

I lifted “her” asking Nay, “You want ‘her’?”

Instead, she whispered in a taunting sing-song voice, “Awww, ‘Gina’ is so ‘jelly’ (jealous) right now. She’s used to getting all the attention being ‘the bigger twin’. You gotta wait your turn, boo!”

She blew on “Gina”, giving “her” a loving peck on the nipple and promised, “There’s more where that came from, babe!”

I whispered closing my eyes, “Shit!”

Reneé lifted my left tit back up with her hands to give her more licking of my nipples before more areola sucking. Loud popping sounds came from her slow sucking. She took it out of her mouth and smacked her chin again. Nay gave it another lick on the nipple before sucking my areola hard again.

Finally, my “sister” and lover held it with her right hand and said, “I had fun with you. Now it’s your ‘bigger twin’s turn’!”

She gave it a slap on the side before she switched over to “Gina”. With 2 hands, she bounced my left boob just as she did with the right getting used to its heft.

“Shit, you’re a heavy one.” she shamelessly quipped as she continued to bounce it in her two hands.

My Reneé proceeded with her slow, gentle kisses to the nipple. She gave my right boob more thorough quick licks, then around the around the areola slowly. She did this 3 times.

I muttered, “My God, Reneé!”

Then she sucked with the same passion and effort as she did the first time with “Lanita” going as deep as she possibly could into her full pouty mouth. Several seconds of that, she put her right hand underneath “Gina” to hold her up and she patted my tit flesh 3 times with her left before she gave my nipple two more kisses.

She couldn’t resist talking to “her” again, “You like that?”

Then she laughed. She slapped her chin then she rubbed her face, letting “Gina” have her way with her. I had never seen her so animated and excited. She was in boob worship heaven, taking both nipples pulling on them. Using them as leverage to lift them up, she made them drop slapping my stomach with both of my boobs while we were still sitting on my bed. She did this 4 times. Then I decided to lean forward so that they could dangle and hang. She slapped them with both hands which went on for 10 seconds. I sat back down and let her admire them some more.

In her reverent whispering husky melodic tone, she said, “You always had a lot of boobs, but my God, Bun! What da hell do you feed them monsters?”

I told her teasingly, “Stop playing! You know I need implants, girl!.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! I’m serious, Syreata. I’m the mother of the two of us, older by 9 months and much taller than you [Me: I’m only about 4’8″] but you’re the one with all this,”

She squeezed my boobs together to form its long, deep cleavage after finishing her sentence.

I quipped, “Like you’re tiny and flat. You weren’t a 36F when you were 14 or even 22. My darling god-children grew you out a bit.”

Another duet of laughter ensued as I held up and juggled her tits in shameless worship.

“And those nipples of yours could poke someone’s eye out,” I further proclaimed.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

continued…

Day 19…

We slept in.

It was only a two or three hour drive into Portland from Eugene depending on traffic, so why wouldn’t we?

Over breakfast, Marni and I wound up in a discussion about threesomes and group sex when men were involved, both of us agreeing that a man’s recovery time can sometimes be problematic.

“Different when its all gals,” I observed, “I mean its still a threesome, or a foursome like it was in Vegas, but I like that, you know, when its just women.”

“Yeah…I noticed,” She chuckled with a wink to me.

“Our little college cutie was a lot of fun, don’t you think?” I tossed into her lap.

“Yeah…she was that,” Marni replied, adding, “Glad I’m not her instructor though, she exudes a lot of sexual energy; and while I’ve done it, sexual involvement with students can be problamatic.”

“Have to confess,” I said, “I wouldn’t mind doing another coed if the opportunity ever presents itself, Bootsie’s young pussy was tasty.”

“Damn, Jules, you’re talking like you’ve been eating pussy for years,” Marni chuckled, “I do believe you’ve changed teams, girl.”

“Pretty sure I have too,” I answered honestly, “haven’t thought about sucking or fucking cock since we started this trip.”

“Didn’t seem to me that you minded us playing with others, either,” Marni smirked.

“We don’t have to do that…you know, threesomes and shit, if it bothers you,” I offered when the fleeting thought came to me that she might not want to.

“Wouldn’t want a steady diet of having others in our bed,” She remarked, her reference to ‘our bed’ making my stomach flutter, but in a good way, “but, every once in a while? You know, for a little spice to everyday life? I wouldn’t mind that at all…especially sharing it with you…you’re a fun-fuck in those situations,” smiling at me when saying it.

“Kinda’ what I think about it, too,” I said in agreement, “Every so often? Probably not a bad thing, but after this trip of ours? I wouldn’t complain if it never happened again…” my voice trailing off into silent thoughts.

“Look, it there comes a time when we want to ‘kink’ it up, there’s always ways to do that, discreetly of course,” She remarked with an emphasis on ‘discreetly’, “Hell, we could always shoot up to Seattle for a long weekend if the urge strikes us…I know of a couple of Lez-bars and clubs up there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I commented, “But one thing you can take to the bank, girlfriend, is that you won’t ever walk in and catch me going down on one of our neighbors like what happened with Beth.”

“Oh honey, don’t you think I already know that?” She replied to my words, her words to me lighting me up inside and making me feel all warm and fuzzy.

That’s when I realized just how hard I had fallen for her in the past few weeks. Funny thing, I remember thinking, is that I was feeling this way about another woman and I was really okay with that, I didn’t think it strange, not in the least.

It did make me wonder if women had a ‘lesbian gene’ or something, buried within, just waiting for the right woman to come along to turn it loose.

I didn’t know the answer to that queston but what I did realize is that, with Marni, I had crossed ‘that line’ and had no desire to undo what had happened between us…and if I were to be totally honest with myself?

I realized that I’d never been happier then I was when with her…

We had just joined the northbound traffic on I-5 when both of our phones chimed, alerting us to waiting messages.

“You want to check ’em, babe?” Marni asked, since she was driving us home.

“Got a text from Susan, sent to both of our phones, thanking us for the lovely flowers and card that we sent,” I said, smiling at Susan’s gesture.

“You have one from school,” reading it to her, a nod from her in understanding of the text about a meeting for her department, next week. Scrolling to the next message in queue, I said, “Oh…its from Beth,” looking up from her phone in my hand to her face, “you probably ought to read that one yourself,” I said, not comfortable in reading anything from her past lover.

“Delete it,” Marni instructed very matter-of-factly.

“Delete it? Are you sure?” I answered.

“Bitch hasn’t got a thing to say to me that I want, or need, to hear,” She said just as sternly as her command to delete it, “She probably thinks that I’ve moved on, with you probably, and her fucking ego can’t bear the thought that anyone could do that,” She chuckled, “the girl really believes her own bullshit.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” My words said but my finger still not pressing the delete command on her phone.

“Even if I didn’t have you in my life, Jules, I’d still delete it, okay? Beth is the past, plain and simple.”

“Am I the future?” I asked, the words flying out of my mouth before my brain had engaged.

She was silent for a few heartbeats, her brow furrowed as if in thought.

“Would that be such a terrible thing, Jules, for either of us, if that’s escort antalya our life now?” She replied, her voice soft, thoughful.

Ever since my shower of last night, after I had thought about the past three weeks since Marni and I started our road trip, I had been resisting the urge to speak my mind, to tell her how I was feeling about her, about us.

No time like the present I reasoned in those few moments between her question and, now, my words to her.

“No, it wouldn’t, not by a long shot…look, I need to say this, so please, just listen,” I replied.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m returning from our vay-cay a whole other person…a person that I’m comfortable with, a person that I never knew existed within me,” I said, measuring my words, my thoughts.

“At first I thought it was just the sex, nothing more, a vacation fling…”

“Jules..”

“Hush…let me finish, please, or I’ll never say it,” I asked of her, then continuing, “But, I know now that ‘this’, that ‘us’, isn’t just about the sex, not even close.”

“Okay…” pausing to take a breath and collect my thoughts, I pushed on…”Okay, what it is, sweetie, is that I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with you…crazy-love, nutso-love, with you.”

I paused again, my heart pounding like crazy.

“I’m still figuring it out Marni, and I’ve no doubt that there’ll be ups and downs as I find my way through a whole new set of emotions for me…so have patience with me, but, at the end of the day, know this….I do love you,” I said softly.

Exhaling with a big puff, I pressed the delete command, sending Beth’s message, whatever it was, off into cyberspace, then I glanced over to look at Marni.

She had a smile on her lips, her eyes were wet, brimming with tears…

We were silent for a few miles, both of us I’m sure, mind-tripping at the fact that we were entering into a serious committment with each other, to each other.

“Damn,” She mused, “bet you didn’t think our trip would end this way when you asked me to come along, did you?”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about our trip,” I replied, “not one fucking thing.”

She just smiled.

“Remember when we first met, when I moved in above you?” Marni averred with a glance towards me, “I was astounded at the ‘connection’ I thought I felt when you introduced yourself to me, welcoming me to the building… kinda’ shocked me actually…we only talked for ten or fifteen minutes that first time and yet, when you walked away, I felt like I already ‘knew’ you…kinda’ shook me up.”

“Me too, babe,” I replied, “I walked away from that first meeting with you feeling like I had known you forever.”

“What the reader said to us in New Orleans? About us being lovers in a past life?” She mused.

“Yeah?”

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

“Before this trip, I would’ve dismissed her reading as a street-con,” I opined, “But, now? Like you said, it has to make you wonder.”

The rain had eased quite a bit after about an hour, becoming more of a drizzle now and not the hard, pounding, difficult-to-see-in-storm it had been, Marni now visibly relaxed behind the wheel.

I was finishing up with some emails from work and a couple from college-pals with whom I’ve stayed in touch over the years. I was concentrating so much on what I had been reading and writing that I didn’t see Marni reach over to me with her hand and when I felt her fingers stroking my tit, I sorta’ jumped in surprise.

“Do me a favor?” She asked.

“Sure babe, what is it?”

“Lean your seat back a bit and undo your blouse for me…oh, and loosen the snap of your shorts,” She asked.

“Horny are you?” I teased.

“Don’t know,” She replied, “probably that, but I really want to touch and play with you right now, I need to feel you right now…please?”

Just the fact that she wanted to do that to me turned on my horny-motor as well and, quite simply, I did as she asked, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra after I had unbutttoned my blouse.

I reclined my seat almost half-way, hands above my head, my fingers gripping onto the head-rest of the passenger seat and my ass scooted as near to her as I could without sitting on the console between the seats.

Smiling at me quickly, then returning her eyes to the road, she reached with her right hand and began feeling and fondling my girls, her touch making my nipples hard immediately.

“Mmmmmmmm, that feels really good, sugar,” I cooed as her hand and fingers played with my breasts, my bra almost pushed up to my neck , my blouse wide-opened, the two halves draped against my ribs.

“Feels good to me too, baby…you have no idea how good it feels to me to touch you,” She said, her voice sultry and husky with desire.

I closed my eyes when I felt her fingers begin the walk down my body, the light touch from her fingers causing my stomach muscles to ‘flutter’ in reaction, a most delicious feeling at that, I thought in the moment.

She parted döşemealtı escort the top of my shorts and unzipped the fly, speading the material apart. Slipping her fingers under the waistband of my briefs, I spread my legs a bit, an involuntary reaction to her touch, my juices beginning to flow in anticipation.

“Mmmmm, that tastes good, Jules…love how you taste, sweetie,” Marni cooed after she had sucked her finger after sliding it between my pussy-lips and rubbing it up and down a few times.

Sliding her hand into my panties again after she had that first taste of me, she cupped my sex and slipped her social finger into me, slowly pushing it in deeper and deeper until she could go no further.

“Ummmph…yeeeaaaaah, oh sweet Lord, yeah,” I moaned with pleasure as she began fingering me with a steady rhythm, the underside of her finger rubbing across my clitoris which was as hard as a teenager’s cock by then.

She fingered me for a deliciously long time, removing her finger every once in a while to suck my juices from it, pushing it into my mouth a couple of times for me to taste.

Whenever she did that, I held her hand and sucked her finger as if it was a dick, sucking hard as if the tip of her finger would produce a spurt of cum down my throat.

“Damn, Jules, it my finger was a cock, I would’ve drowned you in cum by now,” Marni commented, “bet your boyfriends loved it when you blew ’em.”

Her comment sent my mind a series of mind-pic memories of me sucking various cocks; a fleeting thought flashed in my head about never sucking cock again…I’d miss that I thought for a nano-second, I’d miss sucking cock and swallowing cum.

Was I a cum-slut? I wondered, then deciding that if I was…oh, well, that was then, this is now. Now, evidently, I’m a pussy-juice slut.

Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you…

Well, quite honestly, a girl can only take so much playing before she just has to let the monster loose, right?

When she took her finger from my mouth and resumed fingering me that last time, I gripped her wrist with both of my hands and held it place and started rotating my hips, humping against her finger, slowly at first but increasingly faster as I felt my climax rising.

“Aaaaaaah fuck,” I screamed aloud when the monster freed itself from my body, my scream becoming a mewing whimpering of babble as the sensations ebbed and flowed within me.

Opening my eyes after a minute or so, I still had her wrist in my grip between my legs as our car slowly passed a semi.

The driver caught a glimpse of my tits with my blouse wide open, as well as of me holding Marni’s hand between my legs, my panties having slipped down my hips a bit from her play with me.

He blasted his air-horn a couple of times as we slipped past him in appreciation of the visual we had given him, and it caused us to burst out in laughter.

“Guess he has jerk-off material for the night,” Marni joked as I started putting myself together again.

“Yeah, and if his is half as good as mine was, he’ll be a happy camper,” I teased…

We had worked out a plan for the night.

Since she won the rock, paper, scissors thingy, we’d unload her crap first, then mine. Two trips is what we thought it’d take and two trips it was, Marni closing my apartment’s door with her shoulder after following me into my loft.

“Okay, sugarbritches, call it,” Marni said to me, holding a coin in her hand, ready to flip.

“Call what?” I asked, puzzled.

“Heads or tails…If I win, we sleep at my place, if you win, yours,” She explained.

“Do we get to make love either way?” I asked.

“Definitely.”

“Then, just pick whichever,” I said, “As long as I get to sleep with you, I don’t really fucking care where it is, okay?”

“Damn, you’re easy,” She laughed, pocketing the coin.

“Yeah…I guess I am, aren’t I?” I agreed, kissing her sweetly afterwards.

“Tell you what, get yourself squared away down here while I do the same upstairs, okay? Come up when you’re ready and we’ll shack up at my place tonight…oh, what do you want to eat tonight, I mean, besides me…I already know you wanna’ do that,” laughing and giving Ms. Kitty a little pinch through my shorts.

“Surprise me, baby…hell, we ought to order out really,” I said as I placed my arms around her neck then, pulling her to me, I gave her a long kiss full of lustful promise of a night of passion.

“Want to order some Thai?” She suggested while our bodies sorta’ swayed a bit, side to side, her hands holding on to my hips, holding me tight to her crotch as we rubbed against one another.

“That’ll work, sweetie…now, get your ass outta’ here so I can put my crap away…I’ll see you in a bit,” kissing her on the nose, afterwards.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot…gotta’ little surprise for you tonight,” She said with a tone of mystery and a leery grin, “Pretty sure you’ll like it,” and with a final pinch to Ms. Kitty, she konyaaltı escort gave me a sweet smile and a little peck to my lips.

Surprise, huh? Wonder what that’s all about I remember thinking when staring at my door after she had left.

She was right, I was surprised and I did like it, oh yes I did…

We ordered our food almost as soon as I joined her upstairs after unpacking, checking faxes and messages in my home office, the normal back-from-vacation-shit one must do upon return. There was a message from Momma, chiding me about not keeping in touch more frequently.

“Why don’t you Skpe us when you get back from your trip and catch us up on your life, sweetheart…love you, baby and Daddy sends his love too,” Her message to me ending with a ‘beep’.

I remember thinking, in that moment, that I hadn’t even considered what impact it would have on my parents when they find out that I’m in love with a woman.

Need to think about that, I mind-memoed myself…grabbing my bag and locking my door, I pushed the thought from my mind…

“Throw your crap in here,” Marni said, pointing to her bedroom, “I’ll make us a couple of cocktails, okay?” her directive giving me pause, my face scrunching up from a realization that popped into my head.

“We’ve known each other, what? Two years now? All that time and I’ve never been beyond your living room or kitchen,” I mused, thinking it funny now.

“Me either; in your place I mean, now that I think about it,” Marni mused as well.

“Oh, wow, like the bed, ” I cried from her room, complimenting her on the modern, queen-sized four-poster, the four posts being of medium height.

“Tell you the truth, I’ve been spoiled with all of these kings we’ve been sharing. Is yours a King?” She remarked as she joined me, handing me a drink.

“Nope, ‘fraid not, its a queen, like yours.”

“Maybe we ought to think about getting a new bed, a big-assed King, you know, for our place?”

“I like it…that’s what we’ll do,” I answered while wrapping my arms around her and kissing the top of her head as she nuzzled against me.

“Showered yet?” She asked.

“Nope, kinda’ hoped we could do that together…after we eat, maybe?”

“Done…I was thinking the same thing.”

While waiting for our dinner, we were lounging on her sofa making notes about features we’d both like to have in a shared domicile. Sipping our rum and cokes-the rum being ass-kicking Bacardi 151-we were feeling the buzz quickly after only a couple of sips.

“Be right back,” She said with a smile to me, hopping off of the sofa and going into the smaller, second bedroom that she used as an office/storage/hobby room, much as I did with mine.

“Surprise number one, girlfriend,” She announced, handing me her sketch book from behind her back.

“One? You mean there’s more than one?”

“Not for a while, princess…now, go ahead, look all you want, you’ve been bugging my ass to see it,” she said as she plopped herself back onto the sofa, stretching her leg so that she could rub my boobs with her toes.

Opening her sketch-book, I was stunned by the sketch of our view from the balcony of our rental in Gulf Shores, the colors jumping from the page and embracing you, the image exactly as I remembered it.

Her lines were soft and flowing, accurately capturing the detail of that view. Turning the page to the next one, it was a different beach scene, a total of five beach scenes and two scenes from our balcony in New Orleans.

“Oh Marni, these are beautiful, baby, simply beautiful,” I gushed as I closed the book, “thank you for…”

“You’re not done…start at the back of the book and move forward,” She instructed.

“Wha…” I started to say, but the words stopped when I looked upon a pencil sketch of me, naked and laying in bed on top of rumpled, mussed sheets.

In total there were ten sketches of me, some profiles of me driving, a couple of profiles or studies as I sunned on the beach, and a few of me in different naked poses of sleep.

“When…I mean, I don’t rememb…”

“Most mornings I woke before you and would sketch you while you slept…when you were driving, I just sketched you from the shotgun seat; same on the beach, you usally had your eyes closed and sunglasses on, so you never saw me looking at you,” Marni said, answering my unspoken questions.

“I don’t know what to say…it’ll sound conceitated, I know, but…these are good, especially the nudes…highly erotic,” I stumbled to say, flipping back through the nudes of me.

“Yeah, I know,” She grinned, jumping off of the couch to answer the doorbell which announced the arrival of our dinner for the night…

Food eaten, a second cocktail chanced by us afterwards, we took a leisurely shower together, the slight buzz from the 151 rum hovering pleasantly within us as we washed and played with each other, giggles rising above the sound of the cascading water as we did so.

We returned to her living room after we had showered, both of us slipping our sleep tees on, but forgoing panties. Marni found a Classic Rock station for background music, joining me on her couch afterwards.

We settled into a corner of the couch, snuggling and kissing each other while our hands fondled and played, the foreplay soon having us breathing harder and harder from the building sexual energy and desires.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

(Author’s note: those of you that may have read my previous stories know that I usually do love stories with the typical happily-ever-after ending. Be forewarned: this is NOT one of those stories! Enjoy, and let me know what you think…thanks for reading!)

*

My phone rang just as I was pouring my first cup of coffee. Aggravated at the interruption of my quiet morning routine, I snatched my phone up.

” ‘Lo?,” I slurred into the phone.

“Morning Claire-bear! It’s Julie.” The chipper voice came through the phone, assaulting my sleepy eardrum. I winced. Perkiness tended to piss me off first thing in the morning. I was not a morning person, and those who were morning people were, in my opinion aliens from some uber-happy super shiny nauseatingly perfect planet. Plus, Julie’s use of my old nickname was just humiliating at 6am. I felt like a bear — a bear that just woke up from hibernation and was ornery as hell.

“Hi Julie,” I responded, sighing to myself. “What’s up?” I thought I had managed to sound like a normal human being, quite a feat for me before sunrise.

“I’m just calling to make sure you didn’t oversleep on your first day on the job!” Julie piped.

As if I would oversleep. Julie should’ve known better, but I mused that the girl could be forgiven. Julie had after all landed this job for me. I should at least be grateful she cares, I thought.

“Yeah. Ha. Ha. No. I’m up. See?” I said. Damn, I thought, now I sound like a robot.

“I see that you are just as grouchy as ever in the mornings. Had your coffee yet?” Julie chimed. I just grunted. Julie giggled. I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to hang up on my dearest friend. I hated giggling, and absolutely despised it before I had had caffeine.

“Okay, grouch…drink your coffee, then. I’ll see you at the office. Remember to stop by my desk first thing so I can give you the grand tour!” Julie bubbled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re my first stop. Promise,” I said, hopefully with a bit more enthusiasm than I actually felt. “‘Kay! Bye!” Julie said, then hung up. I sighed again. As I sat back and began enjoying my coffee in earnest, I wondered if there was some kind of advanced scientific gene research lab somewhere that could transplant the Happy Morning Gene into my system. About an hour later, I was feeling much more human as I stepped out of the shower and toweled dry. I stepped over to the vanity, using my now-damp towel to wipe the fog off of the glass. Running a brush through my chin length auburn hair I looked at my reflection, running my gaze over my face and noting with satisfaction that the dark circles under my eyes had faded. Pulling out my makeup bag, I addressed my reflection in the mirror. I took my time applying the cosmetics, enhancing my naturally smooth skin and strong bones. I paid special attention to my whiskey colored eyes and long dark lashes; lashes that needed no curler and barely any mascara to be outstanding. I loved my eyes, and knew how to play them up to the best advantage. A quick sweep of blusher and some pale coral lip gloss, and my morning toilet was complete.

I took the three steps necessary to carry me across my tiny apartment into the bedroom, heading for my miniscule closet. Perusing my choices, I settled on a tight gray hip-length sweater, and a slim black pencil skirt held together with a wide black belt. I dressed, and checked out the overall look in the full length mirror. Yes, very chic, very modern; a perfect ensemble for the busy professional woman. Except for underneath; I quirked a lip at my reflection as I thought this. I loved going commando; I hardly ever wore underwear. Something about the wickedness of looking perfectly respectable on the outside, but being naughty underneath gave me a feeling of empowerment. Slipping into my nicest black heels, I headed out of the bedroom, gathered up my purse and (empty) briefcase and headed out the door.

As I navigated the traffic through the city, I ran my memory back over the recent weeks, remembering how I had come upon this job to begin with.

Julie had been my best bud throughout college, despite the fact that she had been a year ahead of me, and in a different major. Once Julie had graduated, she moved on to the big, bad city, landing a nice job. She and I had kept touch through IM and on the phone, and when I had finally graduated with my shiny new degree Julie was there to celebrate. I spent the next 6 months looking fruitlessly for gainful employment, unable to find a decent job that would take me with no experience and a piece of paper. Things were beginning to look pretty hairy for me, until one day Julie had mentioned Morris & Stone…

*****

“Claire, why don’t you see about working with me?” Julie had asked one evening over take-out Chinese. “At Morris & Stone?” I asked skeptically. “And what in the world would a History major do at a marketing firm?”

Claire, there’s lots you could do,” Julie encouraged, getting into it now. “You have that minor in bitez escort Fine Arts. I mean sure, you probably couldn’t work with me on the business side of things, but I bet some of the creative media teams would love to have you! You have such an eye for line, color, beauty; Claire, I really think it would be a good fit! Screw those stuffy galleries and museums…if they can’t appreciate your talent, take it elsewhere!”

I sighed. Julie sometimes got carried away with her own notions. It was easier to let her find out on her own that her bright ideas were not going to pan out. “Okay Julie, you win. Ask around tomorrow and see if there’s an opening. I’ll apply.”

The next day, Julie had called with mixed news. There was no opening currently for full-time employees. But if I was willing, there were several slots still available for temporary part time assistants.

“Like an intern?” I asked doubtfully.

“Sort of,” Julie replied. “But it pays. Not great, mind you, but it is money. And the part time status is only for the first few months, and then they do a review of all of the temps and hire the best ones on. So this is really a foot in the door.”

“Man, I don’t know Julie…it doesn’t really sound like the right fit for me,” I said.

“C’mon! What else have you got in the hopper? It’s not as if the museums are beating down your door. It’s only a few months, and at least you’ll be getting paid. How much longer can your savings last?” Julie had a point there. “Besides,” she continued “you’re such a talented person, they’ll be sure to want to you to convert over. Even it if doesn’t work out, you’ll have some real workplace experience. Isn’t that the big hang-up now?”

Julie was right. I had to admit that. It was only a few months. And my savings account was getting scary low.

“Okay Julie, sign me up. When will I start?” I grimaced at Julie’s squeal of delight, already regretting my decision…

*****

I pulled out of my reverie as I pulled into the parking lot of Morris & Stone, Inc. This was one of the most successful and largest marketing and advertising agencies in the city. I was to be working with one of the creative design teams, helping to brainstorm out-of-the box ideas in marketing M&S’s clients, and then helping to get those ideas down on paper so they could then get the ideas across to the client. If, if I was lucky, perhaps something I had a hand in would maybe possibly end up on TV someday, or in a magazine. That was of course, if I was any good and stuck around here for any length of time. Finding my way through the massive building was like a labyrinth challenge, but eventually I was standing next to Julie’s desk.

“Hiya Jules! Where’s this Grand Tour I keep hearing so much about?” I said, leaning one hip against Julie’s desk.

“Oh! Claire! Yay! This is gonna be a hoot! C’mon, lemme show you around, and introduce you to some folks.” Julie jumped up from her desk, clapping her hands together with delight. I smiled at Julie’s enthusiasm. Julie really was fun and energetic, and one of the nicest people I knew. I just didn’t care to know Julie until after 8am. Julie always reminded me of a hyperactive 6 year old.

I surrendered my person to Julie’s lead, letting her tug me all over the building. Julie introduced me to many many people, but I was sure I would not remember their names. As it was doubtful I would be working directly with any of Julie’s co-workers, I decided it didn’t matter.

We spent a couple of hours wandering the building, Julie taking care to point out the cafeteria, the coffee shop, and the rooftop garden (ostensibly for relaxing/meditation, but in practice used as the smoke hole).

Soon enough, Julie looked down at her watch and gasped, “Ohmigod, we’ve got to get you to your office! I only cleared 2 hours this morning with your manager…it’s almost 10now. Cmon, I’ll show you your office.” And with that, my first day on the job began.

Seven hours later, I wearily trudged back to my car. I dearly hoped I did not run into Julie, knowing that was mean, but really not able to deal with the gazillion questions the perky woman was bound to ask. I was mind-numb. My entire day, after meeting the rest of the creative team, consisted of transcribing someone’s hastily scribbled meeting notes. From what I was able to make out, it was more of a brainstorm session, with everyone throwing out random ideas and images. All of which made it onto the sheets I was handed. It was hard deciphering some of the words, but I did my best. I supposed eventually the transcription would be handed off to someone higher up the chain, for them to pick over and select the best ones. I shrugged mentally, trying to erase images of hot-air balloons, race cars, talking dogs, talking cats, talking poultry, daredevil fish, and the ubiquitous bikini-clad babes from my mind. After spending all day typing out some of the strangest sentences of my life, I was gümbet escort not able to decipher exactly what it was that they were supposed to be selling.

Back at home, I unwound with a glass of red wine, kicking off my heels and flopping down on the couch. Halfway through my first glass, I got the phone call I had been expecting.

“Claire! How was your first day?” Julie asked.

“It was fine. Tiring. Different. Okay I guess,” I said. I was trying to work up some enthusiasm for Julie’s benefit. “Thanks again for getting it for me. It may not be what I’m used to, but it is a job.”

“No problem sweetie! Glad to help. Besides, this will be so much fun, just like college. We can lunch together sometimes, or whatever. Like old times!” Julie said.

I murmured agreement, swallowing some more wine. “Listen, some of the girls from work are getting together tonight at O’Malley’s. I thought you might like to come along? Celebrate your first day?” Julie asked.

Ugh. No. “Gee, Julie thanks for the invite, but I’m bushed. Long day you know? Besides, O’Malley’s just isn’t my scene, you know that.” I was NOT going out to the local meet-and-greet club tonight. No way did I have the energy to fend off disillusioned men and curious women. But I didn’t want to blow off one of my best friends either. “Maybe you and I could go out for a nice lunch or dinner together this weekend, just the two of us, if you’re not busy?” I suggested.

“That’s sounds good! Besides, I’d rather spend time with just you than with a bunch of other people too,” Julie agreed. “All right, then…you get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”

“Sure thing babe!” I said. “Bye Jules.”

“Bye Claire-bear.” I hung up the phone, smiling at the nickname as well as Julie’s good nature. Julie and I had a very interesting friendship. We’d been friends for 5 years, though one time we had done some things together that “just friends” didn’t do. I sat back deeper in my plush couch, twirling my wine glass between my fingers, remembering my one and only night with the eager enthusiastic blonde.

*****

I had been upfront about my sexuality with Julie from the beginning. Julie didn’t really seem to care one way or the other; I genuinely liked her, even if Julie was a perpetually happy person, and I was a sarcastic cynic. We meshed well as friends, an easy-going laid back friendship with no undue expectations of the other. If I liked women, Julie would shrug, that was my right. Just as it was Julie’s right to like men. Though I never admitted, I often had fleeting thoughts of seducing Julie; if you could even call them thoughts. They were just one of those quickly passing trains in my mind, a brief ‘what-if’ and then the thought would go away, dismissed without another glance. I never dreamed I would get a chance to act on those deep urges.

Julie was unremittingly straight; in fact Julie had had the same boyfriend through most of their college years. Danny and Julie were a hot item, and I had always envied their fun-loving relationship. They double-dated some if I happened to have a girlfriend/interest at the time (a rare occurrence), but mostly I joined them as the typical third-wheel on evenings out at the local college bar. One night in particular, Julie had been extremely handsy with me. As close girl friends usually are, me and Julie were comfortable enough to hug, to dance together, and even give quick pecks for kisses. But this night Julie had been very familiar with me and flirted rather aggressively. Danny, if he noticed never said a thing. I, always having had a bit of crush on my slim blonde friend, didn’t stop it. As the level in my wine glass got lower and lower, I in fact encouraged it. As the night got later and we got drunker, Julie managed to shock me speechless:

“Claire, I want to ask you something, but I want you to think about it seriously before you say anything, okay?” Julie said quietly near my ear.

“Okay,” I agreed, curious about whatever it was that would make my smiling happy friend so serious.

“Danny and I have been talking, and I told him some thoughts I have been having. I know you and I covered this territory long ago in our friendship, but I think I’d like to change my mind. I just can’t seem to stop thinking about it, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable trying it with anybody but you.” Julie said this all in one breath, in a rush; as if she didn’t trust herself to get it all out.

I turned shocked hazel eyes to meet Julie’s blue ones. “Julie…are you asking what I think you’re asking me? The one thing you swore you would never ask, because you would never be interested?”

“Yeah, I am,” Julie said. I expected a blush, a coy turning of Julie’s head, a laugh and a smile; anything to prove to me that Julie was kidding, was joking around. Julie did nothing but look at me expectantly.

I desperately tried to sort through the mass of emotions suddenly spinning inside bodrum escort bayan me. I grabbed onto the first convenient one, the easiest one to handle: anger. “What?! You seriously expect me to take a chance on ruining our friendship because you’re suddenly curious? That you can just snap your fingers and the horny lesbian will come running to scratch your itch?” I snapped out. “Like I’m some kind of new toy you want to try out?” I tried to deny the excited tendrils coiling through my belly, squelching them down. I KNEW this was a bad idea.

I was looking at Julie in outrage and anger, my whiskey eyes shooting sparks at my best friend. Julie just smiled knowingly, shaking her head at my impetuous upset.

“Remember Claire, I asked you to think about it first, before you said anything.” Julie interrupted. “I know it’s a big deal. It’s a HUGE deal. And no, I don’t think you’re a ‘toy’ I can play with when convenient. I have no desire to use you in any way.” Julie’s eyes were full of sincerity, full of the friendship and love that we shared. She continued, “But I am curious, and I really would like to see what being with a woman is like. Danny’s okay with the whole thing. I want to do this; I am GOING to do this. I want it to be you. I’m giving you the right of first refusal. I can’t imagine doing this with anybody else. But if you say no, I WILL eventually find someone else…and it won’t be as wonderful because it won’t be you.”

I was speechless, my anger draining away at Julie’s soft words that rang with truth and sincerity. When did Julie suddenly turn bi-curious? Why now? Did Danny put her up to it? Danny!! Surely Julie didn’t expect me to fuck Danny too…My eyes shot over to Danny, sitting across the table. The handsome man had a strange smile on his face; I could see that Danny knew what we were talking about even if he couldn’t hear us. Danny’s smile was fearful, but encouraging — the kind of smile you give someone when you want them to do something for you, but know they might not. I swung my gaze back to Julie.

Julie understood the frantic looks I was throwing across the table. “And no, you don’t have to sleep with Danny. But he would like to watch, if that’s okay.”

My eyes widened as my jaw dropped. Okay?!? NOTHING about this was okay! I worked my mouth, trying to form words to express the fullness of my shock, my disbelief, my outrage…and yes dammit my excitement. But nothing came out, leaving me looking much like a fish out of water as my mouth opened and closed silently.

“Okay, okay,” Julie continued, lifting her hands up in the classic surrender pose. “I can obviously see from the look on your face that you need a minute.” Julie smiled her cute little pixie-smile. “We’ll give you some time. But PLEASE Claire-bear…I don’t want just any woman…I want you.” And with a soft peck on the cheek, Julie stood up, taking Danny’s hand and leading him to the dance floor. I sat in my chair, stunned and shocked, staring into space while my brain whirled madly.

What to do…what am I going to do? My brain screamed at me. There wasn’t an answer forthcoming, just a wordless ball of tension and fear and excitement. I wrestled with my mind, with my body, trying to find the right thing to do, the right way to handle this. But what? I peeked over to the dance floor, and was caught by the sight of Julie and Danny dancing together. Julie’s small slim frame and short spiky blonde hair was a sharp contrast to Danny’s large athletic body and close-cropped dark hair. It looked like the punk rock chick had managed to find the captain of the football team. However, the body chemistry between the two of them was undeniable, and I watched surrepticiously as the couple ground their hips together to the music.

They danced with the sexual urgency of a couple planning on having a lot of fun once they got home — the tension between them was electric. The dim flashing lights and pounding bass of the music only served to heighten the mood of anticipation in the space between their bodies. Julie closed her eyes, dropping her head back and arching her smallish breasts into Danny’s chest as the throbbing beat of the music took over. She had one hand looped loosely around the man’s waist, while her other hand slid up into her hair and around the back of her slim neck. Julie managed to look like a stripper, using Danny as a pole. Her hips swung one way, as her upper body curled the other way. Her ass moved in small circles, her legs bending and straightening in a pattern that made her body look like a snake, a wave, a curling ribbon. Julie’s dancing was intoxicating to watch. I continued to watch, and my traitorous mind kept whispering.

Danny was dancing just as dirty as Julie, but with his eyes open. Though the sight of Danny didn’t turn me on at all, he was a good foil for Julie, and his presence by the blonde’s side was natural in my eyes. His bright blue eyes devoured the sight of the cute blonde woman writhing and undulating in front of him, and it was obvious to any one watching that he was totally captivated by the sight. Danny’s hands were roaming over Julie’s body while they danced; as often on her tits as on her ass or hips. I got lost in the spectacle of simulated sex set to music, and wondered what the blonde’s body would feel like, and then I remembered that I could find out.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

**For obvious reasons, names have been changed. This is a true story.

We were in Amelia’s room. I climbed on the bed with her. Once she had her arm around me, and I was snuggled into her, I completely relaxed. It was really nice laying there with her, snuggling. She began rubbing my body, sliding her hand inside my pants she discovered I wasn’t wearing any panties.

“You’re such a bad girl!” Amelia smiled at me.

“I haven’t been wearing panties all day, even when I went with you and your mom to get the pies.” I said with a smirk on my face.

“Nikki are you serious?! You’re so bad!” She exclaimed as she slapped my thigh.

Amelia slowly began rubbing the outside of my pussy, and then she slid her fingers inside not taking long at all to find that sweet spot. She gently scrape my clit with one of her acrylic nails, the feeling was amazing. Just the right kinda of touch to make me squirm. It all felt so good. I moved from my side to my back to give her a better angle. I switched between grabbing my hair and my breasts, moaning loudly as kept pumping her fingers inside me. I was getting wetter, it felt so good.

I decided I wanted her to have a turn, as I turned around to face her she removed bodrum escort her hand. I began rubbing her thighs and eventually made my way towards what I really wanted. I rubbed her over her leggins, she was so warm and damp. I slid my hand inside and found she was wearing a thong. I loved it! I was so excited. I moved it aside so I could play with her pussy. Amelia began to breath heavily. Before long I decided I wanted more access.

“Take off your pants,” I demanded, “I want to play with you.” She obliged hurriedly without hesitation and laid on her back.

“Mmmmm I love that navy blue thong,” I commented as she removed that too.

I quickly got back to work. I rubbed the outside of her pussy gently. I enjoyed feeling how soaking wet and warm she was. I slid two fingers in immediately, just because I love how tight she is and her reaction. I laid next to her, but soon after I slowly slid down lower for better range of motion eventually putting myself between her legs. I could go faster and deeper if I was in front of her like that. I fingered her the way I would finger myself, rubbing inside, looking for that spot. I went faster, rubbing her clit with my thumb türkbükü escort as I went. She made the most wonderful small noises. I adored the look on her face.

I could tell when she was getting close, so I made sure to rub her g spot more, rub her clit with my other hand and pump my fingers faster. Before I knew it, it was happening, she started squirting. I pumped harder and faster pinching her clit between my thumb and index finger as I went, while my fingers were inside her. She seemed to enjoy that like I do. I watched her juices splash, but decided I wanted to watch her face too. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to look it was all so much!

I kept going after that, because she didn’t tell me to stop. She grabbed my left arm with her hand and squeezed hard.

“You squeeze as hard as you need to, you wont hurt me,” I whispered to her.

“Uhhhh,” she moaned softly.

It was like when I grabbed her hand, or my hair or anything I could when I was having an orgasm. Shortly after she came again and I couldn’t believe it, at first I wasn’t even sure it had actually happened.

I kept fingering her pussy and I leaned over her so konacık escort I could be sure she heard me “I’m not going to stop until you tell me, so when you’ve had enough let me know.” I had the biggest grin on my face as I said it. Amelia was moaning softly, her breathing labored. I continued rubbing her clit with my left and while I fingered her with my right. She seemed to really be enjoying all of it. I just wanted her to feel good.

My fingers started to go a bit numb, but I didn’t want to stop because she was still enjoying herself, and I was loving it. It was making me so wet just watching her, knowing that I was cause of her pleasure. So I just powered through it, eventually the feeling coming back as I positioned my hand at a different angle.

Amelia came one last time before she finally conceded. “Ok, that’s enough,” she was breathing heavily. “I came at least five times!”

I couldn’t hold back my grin as I looked at her. “Honestly, I kinda lost count, somewhere after the second time. I just wanted to keep making you feel good. I told you I wasn’t going to stop until you told me to.”

She looked over at the bed, “Fuck you knew that was going to happen!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her, the bed was wet from her squirting, and I knew she had just changed the sheets.

“No I didn’t.” I tried to look at her innocently, but she wasn’t buying it. I helped her clean up and she walked me out to my car.

Amelia gave me a big hug and I whispered to her, “next time I’ll bring the big black dick with me.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Lauren was driving home with a great deal more care than was normal for her. Today was Friday, and her vacation had just started. She was taking no chances on missing her evening flight to New Orleans. It would be, she hoped a vacation she would long remember. Traffic was unusually heavy and she soon realized she would be hard pressed to make her flight.

She reached her home without incident and hurried inside. Collecting her bags, she said a fond farewell to her pets, left instructions for their care with her roommate and raced off to the airport. Traffic was worse than it had been on the way in and she was running late by the time she reached the airport parking lot. Check in was jammed with people trying to make their flights and she found herself having to run to make it to her gate.

It was only after she was seated in her assigned seat with a drink in her hand and the plane in level flight that she relaxed enough to begin to think again. This was going to be so much fun, she had never been to New Orleans. She had read a lot about the fabled city, and was enchanted with its air of romance and mystery. Her hotel was right in the middle of the quarter and she had devoured all the literature sent by the Chamber of Commerce.

Even more exciting to her than the city was the prospect of meeting Roxanne. They had met in a chat room devoted to battlefaeries, an online game. Lauren had spent the better part of a year, coaxing, cajoling and patiently waiting to finally convince the shy woman to meet in person. She had only obtained a tentative promise, with a warning that she might chicken out. Still the prospect of finally meeting was a nice one. Her feelings for Roxanne were deep, but confusing. They were alike in many ways, but there was something else there that she could not put her finger on. An undercurrent of something she could ill define was there of that she was sure. Perhaps, she admitted she wasn’t ready to deal with what that undercurrent might be. She dozed on the flight, waking with an indistinct memory of a pleasant dream

The plane touched down smoothly and began to taxi towards the terminal, Lauren felt herself beginning to become excited, she was finally here! The plane glided smoothly to a stop and she gathered her carry on bag from the overhead compartment. The line moved slowly down the aisle and she was ready to get off the plane. Without the air conditioner it was becoming stuffy. Or was she just getting nervous? She couldn’t tell.

When she reached the end of the tunnel she looked around expectantly, no one in the crowd of waiting friends and relatives looked like the pictures she had seen of Roxanne. She felt a deep disappointment, but tried to tell herself that with all the new security measures Roxanne might not have been able to make it to her gate. Lauren made her way to baggage claim, again scanning the crowd, but she saw no one familiar in the milling faces. By the time she reached the main concourse she was sure that her friend had backed out. It hurt her feelings but she tried to smile and remember she was on vacation.

She followed the signs to the taxiway planning on taking a cab to her hotel. Walking through the doors her breath was taken away. The heat and sultry humidity assaulted her senses. It was like stepping fully clothed into a sauna. She put her bags down and wiped her brow, this was not what she was used to. She felt a strange excitement, something in the air. It was a suppressed feeling of waiting for something to happen.

She was reaching down to pick her bags up when a small voice behind her said “Lauren?”

Lauren turned quickly to face the person who had spoken. She was a small woman, dressed in jeans, a flannel work shirt and work boots. Her auburn hair was up, in a pony tail and she looked like she was dying in those heavy clothes in the heat. Lauren remembered suddenly that Roxanne had said she would have to leave straight from work to catch her plane. Lauren felt a bit silly now; she had been searching for someone dressed like a woman, as she knew Roxanne liked to do.

“Roxanne?” She asked.

The smaller woman smiled shyly and nodded. Lauren could see how much just this simple exchange was taking out of her. She felt bad that she had inadvertently forced her friend to approach her. She was also strangely flattered, she knew just how difficult it was for her.

Lauren wanted to hug her at that point, but something held her back. Instead she held out her hand and the smaller woman shook it. She found herself at a loss for words.

“How was your flight?” she asked finally. “It was O.K.,” came the reply. Her voice was low, pleasantly modulated, but too deep for her size. Lauren remembered that she was very self-conscious about it and made a point not to notice.

The silence that followed was awkward and Lauren was glad to have a taxi pull in. A tall black man in gray livery got out and helped them put their bags into the trunk. The cool air conditioning inside the cab was a godsend after the bitez escort stifling humidity outside. Roxanne seemed even more grateful for the coolness and sat in the corner pressed up against the door.

“Where to ladies?” the driver asked in a voice heavily tainted by his southern accent.

“The Jefferson,” Lauren replied.

“Nice place,” he said as he pulled away. “First time in the City?”

“It is for me, she has been here several times before,” Lauren said.

“It’s a great place to visit, good thing you didn’t come at Mardi Gras your first trip. It is a different place then,” he said.

They continued chatting as he drove through the streets of the city. Lauren stole a glance at Roxanne, she was staring out the window, apparently lost in thought. Lauren was happy for the talkative driver, she was sure that it would have been a silent ride otherwise.

The Jefferson was situated on Rue De Bienville in the heart of the quarter. It was four stories high with a red brick and wrought iron fa‡ade that fit perfectly with the architecture around it. Inside it was decorated in lavish Victorian style. Lauren and Roxanne made their way to the desk where a formally attired man in his middle fifties greeted them.

“May I help you?” he asked with a smile.

“We would like to check in,” Lauren said.

“Reservations?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lauren said as she handed him her print out from the reservation company. He looked it over then looked up and smiled “Are you together?” he inquired.

She was forced to smile when she saw Roxanne blush and seem to be looking for a place to hide. Something about her at that moment touched Lauren, she seemed to be totally vulnerable. She wasn’t sure if it was her maternal instinct, or something else, but she took the print out from Roxanne’s hand and said, “Yes.”

The concierge arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he took the two print outs and entered them into the computer on the desk. Lauren felt rather than saw Roxanne move slightly closer to her. The concierge programmed two key cards and handed them to Lauren.

“I have taken the liberty of moving your friend to a room adjoining yours, second floor end of the hallway, the bell hop will bring up your bags momentarily,” he said with a smile.

They made their way across the beautiful lobby. Old paintings showing the riverfront in the days of steamships and antebellum homes decorated the walls. The wainscoat was expensive wood and all the trim was mahogany. The architect had done an outstanding job of transporting those in the lobby back to a more elegant and genteel time. The elevator in the corner was right out of a movie. An open wrought iron cage, with an elderly black man, dressed in the hotel’s livery operating it.

“Floor ladies?” he asked in a deep baritone, again infused with an accent that Lauren was not sure of.

“Two please,” Roxanne said quietly before Lauren could answer.

“Two it is then,” he said as he worked the archaic controls and the iron grill slid closed. When he opened it they were on the second floor landing. Lauren stepped off the elevator and started down the hallway. She realized Roxanne wasn’t with her and turned back. She saw her friend taking a dollar bill and dropping it in the elevator man’s hand. He tipped his hat to her and smiled as she got off the elevator. Lauren was reminded again that she was dealing with a very thoughtful, if painfully shy person. Somehow she found it unbelievably cute.

When they reached Roxanne’s room she slid the key into the lock and opened the door. Lauren continued down the hallway to her room. She had a corner room, the last one on the hall. She opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her before she flipped on the lights and stood there in amazement.

The room was simply stunning. The lights were all shaped to look like gaslights. A large, four-poster canopy bed dominated one wall. It was finished in a dark color, but had sea foam green linen and a comforter on it. The walls were neutral beige, but the whole thing was finished in a dark wood trim. On the wall opposite the door was a stone fireplace. Lauren remembered reading that the fireplaces were gas operated and could give heat in the winter or just light if it was warm. A large print over the fireplace showed two steamboats racing up the river. There was a small writing desk in the corner, near a pair of french doors, that apparently opened onto the balcony. There was another door she assumed was a closet, and one that had to be the bathroom. A smaller door was set into the wall that she shared with Roxanne’s room.

On the wall nearest her a massive armoire was placed. It was a dark wood and obviously very heavy. Two wingback chairs were positioned in front of it. A beautiful settee, with delicate Queen Anne legs was placed in front of the fireplace with a coffee table that looked to be a real antique. One corner held a kitchenette situated behind gümbet escort a counter, with two barstools in front of it. She moved into the room and began to explore a bit.

The armoire held a huge television and stereo system along with a VCR. The bathroom was finished in fake marble tiles and featured a large bathtub, rather than a shower. White linen with the hotel’s monogram was stored in a small closet. The kitchenette had a small fridge, a microwave and a wet bar. She noticed that the bar was empty and decided she would have to remedy that first thing. The fridge was likewise empty. She found the thermostat and turned it way down, it wasn’t her electricity after all.

She was playing with the fireplace controls when she heard a discreet knock at her door. She opened it to find a porter holding her bags. He brought them in and placed them on the floor. He was leaving when Lauren tried to give him a tip.

“Oh, no ma’m, the lady next door took care of it. Thank you much though,” he said as he departed.

After he had left Lauren remembered the adjoining door. She walked over and undid the bolt on her side and tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge. She knocked on it and heard movement on the other side. The bolt came undone and Roxanne opened the door a crack and peered through. She had removed her work clothes and was wrapped up in a red satin robe, her hair spilling down her back in a tangled mess.

“Welcome to the Ritz,” she said softly.

“Decadent, isn’t it?” Lauren laughed.

“Almost like the Poconos,” Roxanne said and smiled. It was the first real smile she had seen, and it made Lauren feel better. Roxanne seemed to be opening up a bit. She opened the door all the way and walked into the bathroom where Lauren could hear water running.

Lauren walked in and looked around. Roxanne’s room was smaller than her own, but similarly decorated. Both of Roxanne’s bags were open and sitting on the bed and she saw that the smaller one seemed to be nothing but lingerie. She remembered her friend’s admitted addiction and found herself smiling. Lauren rarely wore sexy under things for reasons of her own. She found herself wandering over to the bed and taking a closer look. A corset was sitting on the bed; it was ivory satin, trimmed in black lace, with black garters.

Like it?” Roxanne’s voice came from behind her. Lauren whirled around, a little embarrassed. She felt the color rise to her cheeks for some reason.

“Maybe on you, but not this girl,” she said with a laugh, hoping to cover her embarrassment.

“I think you would look smashing in one,” Roxanne said quietly.

Lauren eyed her critically, raising an eyebrow. Her friends face was serious, with no hint that she was joking. The green eyes were intent and unreadable, and Lauren found herself coloring again. A strange feeling was upon her, one she wasn’t quiet comfortable with. “

So what do you want to do tonight? Or are you too tired to go out?” She asked to change the subject.

“Its up to you, I just need to get a bath, I feel so sticky,” Roxanne said smiling.

Lauren couldn’t help but take a moment to admire her friend. She was shorter than Lauren, about five six. Her skin was pale, with a dusting of freckles, and few blemishes that she could see. Her eyes were a deep green and her auburn hair was worn long. The robe she was wearing only came to mid thigh and Lauren could see most of her legs, they were well toned from her job. She wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense, but was what most men called cute. Her demeanor added to her looks, making her seem wistful and lonely. Somehow unapproachable.

“Well, if you’re not too tired, I would like to see Bourbon Street,” Lauren said.

“Great!” Roxanne said enthusiastically. “Just let me get a quick bath in.”

“I think I will too, see you in half an hour?”

“It’s only eight thirty, how bout an hour? That tub looks too inviting to rush,” Roxanne said with a dreamy smile.

“An hour it is then,” Lauren said with a chuckle. Roxanne looked so cute with that expression on her face.

Lauren retreated to her own room and ran a quick bath. She didn’t take too long. She was out and dressed with time to spare. Looking through the open door she could see that Roxanne was still in the bathroom, as the door was still closed.

Lauren leafed through the information packed that she found on the writing desk. It contained a coupon book for things to do in the city and information on the hotel services. Tucked into a side folder was a movie list available to rent. This explained the VCR she thought. She leafed through the movies, seeing many current hits and quite a few older movies. The last page was filled with adult titles. Lauren laughed at some of the films names.

She glanced up at the clock and saw it was almost nine. She got up and walked quietly over to Roxanne’s room. As she entered, the door to the bathroom opened and her friend emerged. Her bodrum escort bayan skin was rosy from the hot water and had taken on a soft pink hue. Her robe was thrown over her shoulders, but not tied in front. She quickly pulled her robe shut, but not before Lauren got a glimpse of her breasts, her flat tummy and her fiery red pubic triangle.

“Impatient! I am hurrying,” Roxanne giggled as she skipped past the doorway towards the bed.

Lauren laughed herself and went back to her room. In a few minutes Roxanne joined her. She was wearing a simple black dress with black stockings and low heels. The dress was familiar and Lauren recognized it as the one from her pictures,

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready,” Roxanne smiled. She seemed to be getting more comfortable, and less prone to the long silences Lauren had come to expect from her.

“Where to?” Roxanne asked as they made their way down the hall towards the elevators.

“I have two free drink Coupons to Pat O’Brien’s, how bout we start there?”

“Great, I haven’t been to Pat O’s in quite a while,” Roxanne replied

“We aren’t going to get lost are we?”

“I doubt it, I have been here many times.”

“I am so excited!” Lauren exclaimed.

“Its a wonderful place, it has it’s own aura. Sensual, mystical, mysterious, I love it here,” Roxanne said earnestly.

“I know, you will have to give me a tour,” Lauren smiled.

They left the lobby and entered the quiet Rue De Bienville. This street was mostly antique and estate shops and was usually deserted by dark. The boisterous noise of Bourbon Street could be heard as Roxanne led her down a darkened side street. The night was sultry, but not as humid as it had been. Lauren saw a few puddles and realized it must have showered while they were getting settled in.

Emerging onto Bourbon she was assaulted by the myriad of sights, smells and sounds. People were everywhere, pressed into lines in front of bars and shops, small groups made their way up the packed street. The noise of a hundred conversations mixed with music from the clubs to create a cacophony, which was somehow pleasant. The smells of stale beer mixed with exotic Cajun food and the press of people in close quarters mixed to create a distinct smell.

Roxanne gently touched her arm and smiled at her, then started off down the packed street. Lauren followed her, dodging in and out of groups of people. A lot of the people were college kids, she saw shirts proclaiming several different schools and universities. Everyone seemed to be drunk and all were having a good time. They passed shops of all types, mostly souvenir places, which sold shirts and mugs and the like. Many of the clubs had long lines that they were forced to detour around or through. Pat O’Brien’s was no exception and they had to wait almost 45 minutes to get in.

Once inside they found a table and ordered drinks. Roxanne had a long Island Iced Tea, in a hurricane glass. Lauren had a crown and seven. Roxanne downed her drink very quickly and ordered another. Lauren remembered that she was very uncomfortable in crowds and decided she was probably trying to relax.

Lauren was a bit concerned the last thing she wanted was to put her friend into an awkward position. The drinks seemed to help and soon Roxanne was laughing and chatting away. They spent a couple of hours there, drinking and talking. By the time they decided to leave both of them were pleasantly buzzed. The streets seemed to be just as crowded as when they came in.

“I thought it would be a little less packed,” Lauren said.

“Not here, the party won’t slow down till well into the morning,” Roxanne laughed.

They turned into the side street and were suddenly alone. Lauren could tell Roxanne was happy to be away from the press of bodies. As they passed a stairway leading down to the basement apartments Lauren saw a young man and woman making out. Their bodies were intertwined and she could hear the quiet noises of their passion. She realized this was the perfect place for a couple. The very air was heavy with sensual tension. She suddenly wished she were with someone it had been so long.

Roxanne noticed the sudden change in her mood.

“Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, fine,’ Lauren said quickly, with a forced smile. She fought hard to keep back the tears that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her.

“Are you sure?”

Lauren looked down at the smaller woman, in the half- light she seemed even smaller. Her eyes seemed huge though, with a luminous quality that was disquieting. In those eyes Lauren saw concern, more than she would have imagined. It touched her deeply and impulsively she enfolded Roxanne in her arms. Roxanne hugged her back, holding on tightly.

“I’m fine,” Lauren said again as she broke the embrace.

“We had better get going before someone gets the wrong idea,” Roxanne said with a mischievous grin.

Lauren laughed deeply and the sudden emptiness inside her was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Let em!” she said loudly and then laughed even harder as her friend blushed and giggled.

“My Hero,” Roxanne said.

Lauren was about to make another comment when they rounded the corner, but she decided not to, there were several people in front of the hotel and she didn’t want to embarrass Roxanne.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The following is a fantasy requested by one of my readers. Hope you enjoy it!

* * * * * * * * * *

Penny sorted through the mail. The usual lot: bills, catalogs, applications for credit cards. She was about to toss it all aside when a smallish envelope with very flowery handwriting caught her attention. She opened it and read: ‘You are cordially invited to a Lady of the Night lingerie party at the home of Kimberly Morgan, this Saturday, the twenty-first at one PM.’

Penny stared at the invitation. She read the name once more. ‘Kimberly Morgan.’

Again. This time, aloud. “Kimberly Morgan.”

She made the connection. ‘Miss Dean’s ballet class!’

Less than a month earlier, Penny’s daughter had begun taking dance lessons at D & J Studios, and had become fast friends with another newcomer: Heather Morgan. Kimberly was her mother.

“Yes.” Penny almost purred. Images of her hostess dressed in a barely-there outfit slowly filled her thoughts. “Kimberly Morgan.”

A spark kindled between Penny’s legs, as memories of the first time they’d met took over. How embarrassed she’d been when she was caught staring at Kimberly’s long, sexy legs. How wet she’d become wondering what it would be like to suck, lick, kiss, tease the slightly older miss’ rather smallish breasts. How dizzy; at the thought of moving down. Lower . . .

“Come on Mom! Time to go!”

Her daughter’s not-so-patient call brought Penny back to reality. Her face was flushed, and her pussy craving attention. She wanted nothing more than to grab her favorite vibrator and let it work its magic right then and there, but . . .

“MOM!!!!”

With a sigh, Penny returned the invitation to its envelope and tucked it in her purse.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a little after noon when Penny finished dressing for the party. (White blouse; flowered skirt that fell mid-calf; sandals. No bra. No panties.)

“What time will you be back?” her husband, Mark, asked.

“I’m not sure.” Penny answered, “I don’t want to be rude and leave early, so I guess I’ll stay till everybody else is ready to leave. I don’t know. Three, four o’clock. Why? You planning on having an orgy or something while I’m gone?”

“Never can tell.”

“If you are, have everybody out of here by two thirty, that’s when Hannah gets back from the birthday party.”

“Doesn’t give me a lot of time.”

“Such is life.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Kimberly’s house was a short one. Penny pulled up in front of the nicely-restored Victorian, and turned off the motor. As she did, another car arrived, and two women in summery dresses got out. Her imagination began to run wild as visions of them modeling thong panties and lace push-up bras took hold. She shook it off, then got out and followed them up the walk.

Kimberly answered the door. “Joy! Kathy! Hi! I’m so glad you could come. Penny! Hi!”

The two women turned in Penny’s Direction.

“Joy, Kathy,” Kimberly said, “I’d like you to meet Penny. Her daughter and mine are in the same dance class.”

“Nice to meet you.” Penny said, as Joy and Kathy gave her the same lusty inspection she had given them.

“Let’s go in.” Kimberly said, “Nancy’s just about set up.”

Joy and Kathy went inside. Kimberly subtly blocked Penny’s way. “Penny,” she said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Okay.”

“Normally, when Nancy does one of these parties, her sister Elaine models everything, but she just called to say she can’t make it. So I was wondering . . . since you and Elaine are about the same size . . . would you be willing to fill in?”

The question caught Penny off guard. She thought for a brief moment, then heard herself answer: “Sure. Why not!”

* * * * * * * * * *

Kimberly lead Penny down the hall to a small bedroom where Nancy was waiting.

“Good news.” Kimberly said, “Penny agreed to fill in and be your model.”

Nancy gave Penny the once over twice. “That’s great!” she said.

“I must warn you,” Penny said, “I’ve never done this before.”

“I bet you can’t remember the last time you said that.” Kimberly said with a knowing wink.

“You’re terrible!” Nancy said.

Kimberly smiled and shrugged. Penny glanced first at Nancy, then at Kimberly trying to figure out what was going on.

“Ignore her.” Nancy said, turning her attention to Penny, “She’s just jealous.” She turned her attention back to Kimberly. “Now; if you’ll leave us alone so we can get the show on the road?”

“Alright. I’m going.” Kimberly laughed as she pulled the door closed behind her.

“Have you ever been to a lingerie party before?” Nancy asked.

“No.” Penny replied.

“Okay. Here’s the crash course.” Nancy said, “It’s girls only, and the first thing I do is hand out catalogs to everyone. Now, don’t get me wrong, the catalog does a good job of showing you what everything looks like; but just about everyone needs to see it on a live model before they can make up their mind before they’re willing to buy. That’s where you come in. bodrum escort bayan As my deal closer.

“It’s not too tough. All you need to do is go around the room once letting everybody get a good look; up close and personal. If you get my drift. Then . . . just strike a pose. Like I said: not too tough. Think you can handle it?”

“I think I can handle that.” Penny said, trying to sound confident, “No problem.”

“Good. Now. Time to take of your clothes, and get to work.”

Penny began to unbutton her blouse. As she did, it suddenly occurred to her that she had on nothing underneath. She hesitated for a moment, somewhat embarrassed by her choice to forgo her ‘undies’, while attending a lingerie party. With no place to hide, she drew a deep breath, then quickly took off her blouse, and slid down her skirt.

“Going commando, I see.” Nancy said.

“I was in a bit of a rush.” Penny said, “I . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. I do it too, from time to time.” Nancy confided, before quickly changing the subject back to business.

“The first item I want you to model is on the bed. Hurry up and put it on. I’ll be waiting in the living room.”

Before Penny could think of anything more to say, Nancy was gone.

* * * * * * * * * *

The outfit laying on the bed was a rather modest, passionate-purple corset, with matching stockings, and a pair of ‘dainty’ slippers. Penny eyed the ensemble, then quickly dressed. Much to her surprise, it was all a perfect fit. With a mix of vanity and amusement, she studied her look in the mirror. After a moment or two, like a silly teenager, she giggled.

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this!” she said.

The image reflecting back was one Penny scarcely recognized. Although she did own a couple pieces of lingerie (far more revealing than this), she had never had the guts to wear them anywhere beyond the bedroom. And to let anyone but Mark see her in them?

She turned to face the door. Her confidence began to fade. She took one, then two tentative steps. Her heart was pounding and her palms sweating. She reached for the knob and turned it.

“Here goes nothing!”

* * * * * * * * * *

The living room was spacious, brightly lit, and dripped with Victorian touches. Joy and Kathy were seated on a period love-seat in front of a large bay window. Kimberly: in a matching chair alongside. Nancy was standing next to the fireplace opposite them.

Penny stepped inside and struck a pose.

“This number,” Nancy began, “is our best selling corset. Page three of the catalog, item number three A: a taste of Venice.”

Remembering Nancy’s instructions, Penny slowly strutted around the room, giving each of the women a chance to look her over.

“It has hidden under-wire cups with removable push-up pads,” Nancy continued, “and a spandex back with hook and eye closure. The garter-straps are adjustable for a perfect fit; and are removable. The matching low rise booty shorts are included, but the stockings and slippers are sold separately.”

“Penny? Would you come back over here a minute?” Joy asked.

“Certainly.” Penny replied.

“Nancy,” Joy began, “you said something about under-wire cups. Don’t they hurt?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“Do you mind?” Joy asked.

“Not at all.” Penny said, caught-up in the moment.

Joy ran her hands over Penny’s double D breasts. Tentative at first, then bolder. Her fingertips: pressing; exploring. “I see what you mean.”

“Let me feel.” Kathy said.

More than a little; turned-on, Penny stepped to the side, and invited Kathy’s more investigative touch. “You’re right.” Kathy said, “I can barely feel the under-wire at all; but it sure does a nice job supporting her boobs!”

Kimberly was next. Like Kathy’s, her hands examined every covered inch of Penny’s barely-covered breasts. “What I like about it,” she said, “is that you can’t tell where the padding leaves off and the real thing begins.”

“Penny?” Nancy interrupted, “Why don’t you go put on the next outfit while we discuss the merits of this one? It’s hanging on the closet door.”

Not really ready to give-up the arousing attention, Penny reluctantly turned and made her exit.

* * * * * * * * * *

Penny started back to the make-shift dressing room. As she walked, her heart raced, and her pussy burned with desire. She played the events of the last ten minutes over and over in her mind. It was like waking from a dream. Desperately, she tried to make sense of it all. Her pace slowed. She stopped dead in her tracks. The improbability of this fantasy-cum-true settled in.

‘What are the odds?’ she thought, ‘I barely know Kimberly, but she didn’t hesitate to ask me to fill in on a moment’s notice. How did she know I’d do it? How did she know everything would fit like it were tailor-made? And all the touching. How did they know that’s what I wanted and that I wouldn’t freak out?’

Slowly, Penny continued down the hallway. It bothered her that these bodrum sınırsız escort total strangers seemed to know about her dark desire. But . . .

She continued to wonder: ‘Had they been tipped-off? Had she been set-up? Did it really matter?’

* * * * * * * * * *

The next outfit was a white satin Merry Widow, with matching, lace evening gloves and high-heeled sandals. Penny stared at it. She closed her eyes and imagined all those exploring hands touching and testing. She smiled in anticipation.

As quickly as she could, Penny stripped off the first, and donned the second. With a little more flourish than before, she headed down the hall and made her entrance.

* * * * * * * * * *

“This number,” Nancy began, “is another of our best selling items. It’s on the bottom of page six, item number six D.”

As before, Penny paraded around the room, doing her best imitation of a Victoria’s Secret Angel.

“This Merry Widow, also has hidden under-wire cups with removable push-up pads. It is front closure, using more hooks and eyes. The garter-straps are adjustable for a perfect fit; but are not removable. The matching bikini-style panty with rear peek-a-boo cut-out is included, as are the elbow-length gloves. The stockings and sandals are sold separately.”

“How hard is it to open all those hooks and eyes?” Kathy asked.

“Why don’t you show her?” Nancy said.

Penny hesitated for a moment, then began to work open the first clasp. “It’s a little easier without the gloves.” she said.

Kimberly got up from her chair and walked over to Penny. “Here. Let me.”

Penny moved her hands away. Kimberly smiled, then set about her task. Almost instantly, it became obvious that this was not the first time she had offered such assistance. And judging from Penny’s ragged breaths, even more obvious that her expertise was having a very; arousing, effect.

“As you can see,” Nancy said, “an eager lover should have no trouble at all getting to the object of his or her affections.”

Kimberly’s feminine touch caressed the material aside. Penny shuddered as the cool room air danced across her nipples.

“I’m intrigued by the ‘bikini-style panty with rear peek-a-boo cut-out’ panties.” Joy said, “Could I get a closer look?”

A flushing heat; down there, gave Penny pause. ‘What if she sees how wet I am?’ she thought. ‘What if she does!’

Penny walked over to Joy, and struck a nearly-pornographic pose that placed her scantily covered pubes at eye level.

“Turn around.” Joy said, “I want to see how much; or how little is exposed.”

Penny spun on her toes, then looked back over her shoulder. Joy reached out and lightly traced the heart-shaped cutout that began just above the cleft of Penny’s butt cheeks, and came to a point half way down.

“Sexy.” Joy said.

“How far down does the cutout go?” Kathy asked.

Penny stepped in front of Kathy and struck another nearly-pornographic pose.

As Joy had done, Kathy traced the cutout with her fingertip. More brazen than her friend, when she reached the bottom, she eased her middle finger inside the silky material, and slid it down until her nail rested just above Penny’s puckered hole. Seductively, she drug it back up and out.

A soft sigh slid passed Penny’s lips.

Kathy stood, then reached around Penny’s waist and began to mate the hooks and eyes. “I want to see how easy it is to fasten.” she said.

Penny closed her eyes and tried hard not to think about how erotic it was having Kathy’s sensual touch on her breasts as the final clasps were hooked.

* * * * * * * * * *

The third outfit Penny modeled was even more revealing than the last: a see-through chemise, with a pair of six inch stiletto-style heels.

* * * * * * * * * *

“This number,” Nancy began, “is part of our barely-there collection. Page seven, Item seven A.”

Penny stood in the middle of the room and struck a pose reminiscent of a street-whore trying her best to attract a John.

“This smooth and silky chemise,” Nancy continued, “has tantalizing open sides, adjustable straps, and a sleek fit. The material is a soft silk chiffon. The matching g-string is included; but the stilettos are sold separately.”

Penny wet her lips, then gave each of the women in turn the most beckoning look she could. To her surprise, the looks returned were cold and analytical; like they were trying to decide if she was worthy of the title: ‘Slut Mom of the Year’.

“I like the way you can see her nice hard nipples.” Kathy said.

“I like the way the g-string nestles between her butt cheeks.” Kimberly added.

“I like the way those heels make her legs look.” Joy chimed in, “Draws your eye right up to her sweet little pussy.”

“So we’re in agreement?” Nancy said, “This outfit puts it over the top?”

The comment caught Penny off-guard. ‘Puts what over the top?’ she thought.

“I think we need to see the last one.” Kimberly bodrum merkez escort said.

“I agree.” Kathy said.

“I’m with Nancy.” Joy said, “But what the hell! Let’s see the last one.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Penny stepped into the make-shift dressing room and began to take off the chemise. As she did, she tried to sort-out this last go-around. To explain-away the explicit remarks about the way you could see her ‘nice hard nipples’; about the way the g-string ‘nestled between her butt cheeks’; about how the heels made her legs look, and how they drew your eye ‘right up to her sweet little pussy’. About the cryptic vote as to whether she need model the last outfit.

Unexpectedly, the door opened, and Nancy stepped in.

“You’ve been a big hit.” she said.

“It’s been fun.” Penny said, trying desperately to hide her true feelings.

“The only question, is whether or not you’re ready.” Nancy said, her tone serious.

“Ready for what?”

“The last outfit you will be modeling is a sexy stretch lace trim set that features an open cup bra top and matching open crotch thong.” Nancy said, switching to her presenter’s voice, “It includes a matching stretch lace trim collar and fur-lined handcuffs.”

“Fur-lined handcuffs?” Penny questioned somewhat fearfully.

“You do want to join our group, don’t you?” Nancy asked, “That is why your husband, Mark had me arrange your invitation, isn’t it?”

“I . . . I . . .He what?”

Penny’s thoughts were spinning out of control.

“Arrange your invitation.” Nancy said in a matter-of-fact way, “He said he wanted to help you explore your bi side, and that he thought our little forum would be just the place for you to see if the reality of making love with another woman lived up to the fantasy. Judging from how wet you are, I’d say so far so good.”

“Mark said all that? Did this for me?”

Penny couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was a dream come true!

“He did.” Nancy replied, “Now. If you want to back out, that’s okay. But if you want to experience what we have in store for you, put on the outfit – along with these hooker heels – and then I’ll help you with the cuffs. Take a couple minutes to make up your mind.”

“No need.” Penny said, enthusiastically, “I’m ready.”

Nancy smiled a lustful smile, then leaned back against the door as Penny slipped on the skimpy panties, and even skimpier bra. Her smile broadened, as Penny stepped into the high-heeled pumps. “Let me adjust things so your boobs are a little more covered.” Nancy said.

It was all Penny could do to keep from laughing aloud. By design, the only ‘coverage’ the open cup bra top provided was in the form of two strips of lace that formed the top edge, and were barely wide enough to hide her rather large areolas. Still, she stood patiently as Nancy’s soft, sensual touch manipulated the fabric.

“There!” Nancy said with pride, “Now for the collar and cuffs.”

A sense of uneasiness enveloped Penny as Nancy fit the lace collar in place. Nervousness, as she nestled the weighty silver chain beneath it. Apprehension, as the padded handcuffs were locked behind her back and connected to the dangling end of the chain.

“Show time!” Nancy whispered.

* * * * * * * * * *

Nancy lead Penny passed the living room and down a short flight of stairs to a dimly lit room. In the center was a large, round bed. Around the perimeter: a half dozen overstuffed chairs.

“Your last chance to back out.” Nancy said.

Penny shook her head and smiled a nervous smile. As if on cue; Kimberly, Joy and Kathy made their entrance. Naked; each and every. Nancy turned, closed and locked the door. “Let the fun begin.” she said.

Penny’s eyes darted from woman to woman.

Kathy approached, and placed her hands on Penny’s shoulders. Gently, she guided her near the edge of the bed, then lightly kissed her cheek. “This is going to be fun.” she whispered.

Joy was next. She stepped-up, then raked her nails over the sides of Penny’s breasts. A quick kiss (to the lips) followed. “When we’re done with you . . . Ooooooo.” Her breath singed the side of Penny’s neck.

It was Kimberly’s turn. Without saying a word, she reached between Penny’s legs and arranged her pussy lips so that they were centered in the opening of the thong’s crotch. “You think you’re wet now? Just wait.”

Nancy bumped hips with Kimberly: moving her aside. Now naked as well, she stood directly in front of Penny, and reached around to cup her butt cheeks. She squeezed; moved in closer, and pressed her bare breasts hard against Penny’s. “You belong to us.”

Kathy approached again. This time from behind. As a tease, she ground her bushy mound against Penny’s shackled palms. “Have you ever been fucked with a strap-on?” she asked.

“No.” Penny replied softly.

“Would you like to be?” Nancy asked

“Yes.”

With Nancy and Kathy’s help, Penny sat on the edge of the bed. Kimberly and Joy moved in and stood in front of her. Their breasts were at eye-level. Or better said: mouth-level.

“You know what to do.” Joy said.

Penny closed her eyes and opened her mouth. A stiff nipple (Joy’s) brushed her lips. She embraced it and began to suck. Far too soon, it was withdrawn: replaced by (Kimberly’s) thicker, though less erect one. Again; she began to suck. Again, a switch was made.

“Ahhh.” Joy cooed.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

We were 18 that summer, Kelly had just had an awesome birthday party to celebrate her being a legal adult. We had been best friends since the first grade and told each other everything. That night, after everyone left, I stayed over, it was no big deal, Kelly’s house was my second home. We stayed up late giggling, and teasing guys on the internet. Things lead to one another, first we were teasing the next thing we knew we were seeing who could have the wildest cyber sex. Then I had what I thought was a great idea.

“why don’t we check out a porn site, and find a pictures that we can say are us. Then we can really get these horny guys hot!”

“That’s a great idea Michele!!”

So we set out on our task to get some hot, explicit photos. Sure we could have just as easily taken Polaroid’s of ourselves, but Kelly had just turned 18, and had only had one boyfriend before..I thought that would be way too forward, and I didn’t want to scare my best friend. So we went to the site and she clicked at the lame pictures of women wearing bras and panties. I stole the mouse from her and got to some of the better stuff.

“Wait,” Kelly said, “look at that one, I don’t understand the caption.” The link read “hot slut shaves her cunt”

“What don’t you understand?” I asked, clicking on the link, before us a picture of a young 20-something with blonde hair and firm tits appeared, she was holding a razor and there was some shaving cream rubbed above her pussy, her body was hairless where hair should be

“how come she doesn’t have any hair on her pussy?” Kelly said “why would someone shave down there? I’ve never heard of that before!”

I couldn’t believe it, was she serious?

“I shave myself, Kelly. Are you telling me you don’t??”

“You shave??? Are you serious? No I don’t shave, i’ve never heard of that before!”

“How do you play with your self with all that hair in the way?” I laughed.

“What! I don’t play with myself you skank!”

“yeah right Kelly, you’ve only had one boyfriend, and unless you lied to me, you two went pretty far, how am I supposed to believe that the only time you’ve been horny was while you were with him?”

“Well I didn’t say I was never horny…”Kelly was caught and she knew it

“o don’t worry about, I play with myself, how do you think I knew about this website if I never fingered myself?” I clicked onto a different pick, it was two girls kissing, they didn’t look much older then us, on had her hand up the others girls shirt, the other had her own hand in her pants.

“hey look Kelly, it looks like us.” I joked with her. She was worried when bodrum escort she first met her old boyfriend that he wouldn’t like her because she had never been kissed. We stayed up really late that night practicing and practicing until she was sure that she was perfect. I didn’t argue, I had no problem with kissing her plump lips, and she was right to be proud of her technique.

“shut up! I never felt you up!” She laughed. “so you really shave?” She turned serious and looked at me

“yeah I shave, I can’t believe never heard of shaving yourself.” I thought for a moment…then a wicked idea came into my head. “hey I hope I’m not being to forward here, but these pictures are really making me wet, would you object to me, well…you know…would that really bother you?”

“you mean you want to masturbate HERE? In my house, with me right next to you?” She seemed shocked, but then…”i guess it’s ok, but you wouldn’t mind if I do it to would you? I mean, I’m pretty wet myself, and if you are going to be pleasuring yourself and not talking to me, I’m going to get kind of bored”

“hey it’s your house, you do whatever you want!” I laughed

“ol I will!” She jumped up from her chair and pulled me up from mine then puled down my pants. There I was standing in her bedroom in my panties, with my pants down around my knees

“what are you doing???” I shrieked!

“I just wanted to see your shaved pussy, I don’t believe you!, Besides, how are you going to play with your pants on?”

I laughed she was right, I pulled my pants off completely and sat back down, so did she. “well if you wanted to see it that badly you should have said something!” I teased her

I slipped my shirt over my head and stood there in nothing but my panties, I never wore a bra, they were so tight and uncomfortable, besides, it was fun to catch guys staring at me when my nipples got hard, like they were now. Kelly looked at me, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen my breasts, we’ve seen each other lots of times, but I guess it was the first time she really looked, especially since she’d never noticed that I shaved.

“why don’t you get yourself comfortable too, since we are going to be playing with ourselves…i’d hate to be the only one going at it full force!” I told her

“you’re right, but I’m still waiting to see your pussy” she said as she pulled her own shirt over her head. Kelly had huge tits, or at least bigger then mine. They jiggled as she took off her pants even though they were in her bra. She sat there in front of me wearing a beautiful pink bra and panty set, pink was muğla escort her favorite color. I could see clearly that she did not shave, there were small blonde hairs poking out of her panties.

“all right, i’ll show you what i’ve got hiding in my panties” I said, as I slipped them off and onto the floor. There I was, standing in Kelly’s room completely naked. She looked intently at my body, and I was getting hott! I sat down and began to look at more pictures, while I knew she was still looking at me. I flipped to a picture of an Asian women giving head, but I could still feel her eyes on me, as I looked over, she was staring at my pussy, but her hand had moved inside her panties, she was fingering herself. Seeing Kelly do this turned me on, but I wasn’t yet ready to go at it myself, I wanted it to be really great, and last as long as possible.

I clicked on another picture, and there was a picture of two women, one was eating the other out…o how good that would feel, to have someone licking my cunt and sucking on my clit. I couldn’t resist. I slid my hand down and felt my wetness. It felt so good to touch myself. I slowly made small circles, dragging my sticky fluid up to my clit and gradually increased my pace. That next thing I knew was ready to cum and my clit was rock hard. I was breathing heavily, I could hear Kelly panting and moaning, I turned my head an focussed on her fingers that were vigorously fucking her pussy. A minute later we had both cum. She got up and threw herself onto her bed and lay there panting, I was still siting in my chair focusing on her body.

“I really needed that.” She said “I hope you’re not bothered by the fact I found your pussy so hot. I’ve never looked at it before, but wow! I think I want to shave my own now!”

I smiled…she was still wearing her bra and panties, but now I could get her out of them! “why don’t you let me shave you? Tonight? It’s kind of hard your first time, I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself down there!”

“Really? You would do that? I would love it if you shaved my pussy!” Kelly giggled! I knew she was excited and so was i. We quickly moved into the bathroom. She got a razor and some shaving cream.

“you have to take off your panties for me to shave you!” I said “and you might as well take off your bra, it’s not doing anything anyway!” I laughed

She removed her bra first, and I got to see her tits in full glory, they were small melons on her chest and her nipples were big and pink. They protruded from her body, as did mine, we were both getting hot again. She then slid her gümüşlük escort panties off onto the floor, I noticed how wet they were from her masturbation session. She laid down on the bathroom mat and I knelt in front of her, in between her spread legs. I slowly shaved off her blonde hair around her pussy. While I was doing this, Kelly became very wet, I could see fluid leaking out of her slit, and I could feel myself doing just the same!

When I was completely done, I leaned my face in very close to her cunt and examined her to make sure I got all of the hair, I opened her pussy lips and accidentally slipped a finger in “oo sorry Kelly, I was just checking to make sure I had all of the hair”

She moaned and said “that’s ok” she sat up and we sat there on the bathroom floor, naked, looking at each other.

“remember that night you taught me how to kiss?” Kelly asked

“yes, we were joking about it earlier, why?”

“i know, I was just thinking about it again. That night was great. I didn’t want to stop kissing you, I had to stop myself. I got so wet that night. After you fell asleep I fingered myself very quietly, I didn’t want to wake you up. I imagined you sucking on my tits, and working your tongue around my nipples, like you had done to my own tongue that night. That was one of the hardest times i’ve ever come.”

Her confession was shocking, I never knew she thought about me kissing her and sucking on her body. At that moment, I knew that my next action would be ok. I moved in and kissed Kelly. It was a long passionate kiss, as we frenched I slowly moved my hand up and cupped her breast into my hand. I rolled her hard nipple between my fingers, and slowly ended our kiss and moved down to suck on her tit. I made slow circles around her areola and moved to the next one, Kelly was moaning. Then I sat up and looked into her eyes, she knew exactly what I wanted.

Kelly sucked my tits, then slowly moved her way down my body until her face was in between my legs, she kissed my slit and tasted my juices, soon she was flicking my clit with her tongue, it felt amazing. It didn’t take long for me to be screaming out in delight. I came hard all over Kelly, and she lapped up all of my juices like a dog. She then sat up and I looked at her. I was panting trying to catch my breath, but I reached up and pulled her head down over my face and kissed my juices off of her mouth.

I then moved my finger to her pussy and teased her for a moment, until she shouted “finger my cunt you bitch!” I obeyed her command and fingered her hole at full force, she quickly came all over my hand and I immediately moved my wet fingers up to my mouth and licked off her juices. She looked at me, and pulled my hand to her face and licked the remainder of her cum off of my hand. We laid there on the bathroom floor until morning, when we woke up in each others arms and decided it was time to take a shower….o boy!! (or should I say girl?)

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I’m touring the Louvre.

I have a three day lay-over in Paris, and since it’s raining, I thought I would walk through the ground floor of the Louvre, in the rooms devoted to the Middle Ages. Statues of the saints mixed with thoughts of knights and ladies and heavy swords. I had a fascination for this at a young age, and I still have it. I find it restful to lose my soul in the imagined customs of a thousand years ago.

In a room in the Pavillon des etats, I see a tall woman standing before a cathedral sculpture of a martyr, the saint protected by a red velvet rope. Don’t touch, the rope says. She’s quite tall, this woman, thin, elegant looking, maybe fifty years old. She’s dressed in black, with a small white pearl in each earlobe, a three-stranded pearl necklace; a long black ensemble, black shoes, very thin ankles sheathed in sheer black stockings.

We are alone in the room, no one else, not even a guard.

When she hears my footsteps, she turns and looks at me. What begins as a glance becomes a long look, maybe a hint of surprise in her eyes. Does she think I’m a boy? No, darling, I’m a girl, although I’d like to stick my tongue up your cunt — as far as possible — and see how far it will reach. I could reach your liver, if I’m in a decent mood. And when I’m drunk, I can most certainly reach your heart.

Of course nothing happens. I linger in the room, pretending to study another statue, but sneaking an occasional glance at her. At those fine ankles. I wonder which are the ghosts, the stone saints or the two of us, the woman and myself, from the present century. Ghosts looking at ghosts. All these statues with vacant eyes.

She glances at me twice more, each time a second more than necessary, and I’m tempted to think it’s with interest. But I’ve played this game too many times to believe there’s anything here to be developed. She looks rich, maybe American. She has straw- colored blonde hair coiffed in a chignon, tied in back with a black ribbon. So elegant looking. I ought to be put away in an asylum for thinking obscene thoughts about a woman like this. Her interest in the Middle Ages must derive from an interest in the Church, which is a passion more than an interest — look at the black she wears — a woman passionate in her religion, recently a grandmother, a rich husband with a yacht, two fine sons who will someday improve the family fortune. I imagine she’s in Paris to buy clothes and to visit an old school friend who married the French equivalent of her husband.

She leaves the room, and I remain alone with the martyrs.

* * *

The rain has stopped when I come outside, and now I don’t know what to do. Should I go to my little hotel and read? Should I pass the afternoon on the bourgeois Right Bank or the neurotic Left Bank? Or I should go to the Pont de Neuf and throw myself into the river to end my indecision. I climb into a taxi and tell the driver to take me to St. Germain. To the Flore. When it rains the Flore is always crowded inside, and one can at least watch the human race at its maneuverings, the eye games, the mouth games, philosophers eyeing the girls in tight jeans who walk by to show the philosophers their tight little asses.

When I enter the Flore, the tobacco smoke is so thick I feel bodrum escort bayan I’m in a fog bank. I see an empty little table, and I’m just about to walk to it, when there, in another direction, at another little table, is the woman from the Louvre.

When our eyes meet, she tilts her head. Recognition, surprise, a faint smile. I walk to her table and say in English:

“The Louvre was more peaceful.”

She seems surprised. “You speak English well.”

“I practice whenever I can.”

She smiles. “Why don’t you sit down?”

* * *

She’s American, from New York, stopping in Paris a few days after a trip to London to visit her sister. With Americans, you can immediately establish everything important about them in a few minutes. A French woman would amuse herself constructing a mystery. This woman’s name is Helene. Do I live in Paris? Yes, I say, but I’m not here often. When she asks about my work and I tell her I’m an airline stewardess, she seems delighted. What an adventurous life! If she only knew how boring it is, how it’s not much better than working as a waiter, how the hotels in Cairo have cockroaches, how Bombay smells of rotting garbage, how often I get monstrous headaches on a long flight.

I order a Pernod from the waiter and Helene and I talk about the Louvre. At the moment I don’t have any interest in the Louvre or what it contains, only in Helene. The most obscene thoughts whirl in my brain, and now I’m worried that maybe I should consult a psychiatrist and purge myself of these pornographic images. What would Helene say if she knew the images that are passing through my mind. She talks about the Louvre, and all the while I’m thinking about what she has under her dress, my mind imagining, designing, constructing, as if knowing the color of her underwear is absolutely necessary for the continued existence of the cosmos. Does she understand this? There is no hint of anything in her perfect face, a perfect plastic Anglo-Saxon American face, a bit gaunt, but that only adds to the charm. Yes, she must be at least fifty, but I am already infatuated with every square gently aging centimeter of her body. Her breasts appear small, almost nonexistent, but I’m certain the nipples are exquisitely sensitive. I derange myself with my feverish imaginings. I must know more. I ask about her husband. Is he here in Paris?

“Oh, no, I’m travelling alone. My husband is in New York.”

“The freedom must be refreshing.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Sometimes men are in the way.”

She exhibits a faint smile. “Do you think so?”

“I’m lesbian.”

So there it is. She says nothing. Of course she has known it from the beginning, from the Louvre, and we both know she has known it from the Louvre. I don’t work on my appearance for nothing. When I’m in the uniform of a stewardess I suppose it’s ambiguous, but now there is no ambiguity, not for anyone with eyes and a smattering of sophistication. Either I look like a lesbian or someone who wants to be taken for a lesbian. Either way, it’s enough to provoke the interest — if the interest is there at all.

We sit for a long time saying nothing to each other, two American women in the Flore, the tobacco smoke hovering. Finally, turgutreis escort I say:

“I have a flat, but it’s small and uncomfortable.”

And after a moment, without changing her expression, she replies: “All right, let’s go to my hotel.”

* * *

She has a room at the George V, pink draperies and pink furniture, and while I look out the window in the direction of the Champs-Elysees, she orders champagne. I remove my leather jacket and drape it over the back of a Louis XIV imitation chair. All this pink, it makes my eyes water. Who could invent a more suitable place for a lesbian fuck than a pink room? And yet it’s a bit nauseating, like a dose of too much sugar that gets into the stomach and makes you swear you will never eat anything sweet again. But I’m not swearing, not just yet.

After the champagne arrives, we drink a toast.

“To the Louvre,” I say.

She smiles. “Yes, to the Louvre.”

I feel the obligation to make the first move. I put my glass down, make her put her glass down, and I take her in my arms and kiss her lips. What does she want? She wants a girl who looks like a boy, and so I kiss her like a boy. We’re exactly the same height and the kissing is easy. Her scent makes my head swim, my heart pound, my blood heat up as though it were being boiled. The pressure of her slender body against my own brings me to the edge of fainting with arousal. My brain feels awash in a hot desire, a limitless wanting, wanting. I want her. I want to ask her what she likes in bed, but I can’t imagine a woman like this one talking about such things. She’s one of those women who do not talk. She feels, cries, laughs, trembles, but she doesn’t talk. To make a woman like this one talk you need sodium pentothal. And I’m not certain even that would work — maybe she would merely mumble in a private language.

I touch her. I put my hand on her breast, lightly caressing her. She has small soft breasts. As I kiss the side of her neck, I drop my hand down to her belly and I rub it slowly, carefully. She remains passive, not moving. Then I press my fingers further down and feel the mound through her clothes. She moves her legs apart, just barely, but it’s a sign of acceptance, and now I cup her mound, feeling its warmth, while I drop the other hand along her back and down to her buttocks. Her firm little elegant ass. Everything here is elegant. I have the impression that if I make a sudden movement she will shatter into a thousand elegant fragments and disappear.

Silently, I urge her to the bed. She moves, dropping to the bed, almost a collapse, lying partly on her side and not looking at me. Maybe she’s never done this before — for the first time, the thought suddenly occurs to me that maybe she has never before been with a woman. Maybe she’s one of those women who travel to foreign countries to do things they find impossible to do at home. At this point I don’t care, all I want is to fuck her.

“Is this your first time?”

“No.”

That’s that. So I get on with it. Should I remove her clothes or merely uncover the essentials? My instinct tells me to uncover the essentials first, if she wants to be undressed it can happen later. As she lies on the bodrum otele gelen escort bed with her legs dangling over the edge, I bend over her and tug at her dress to uncover her thighs. All black. Black dress, black pantyhose, black shoes. Even uncovering the essentials requires a military campaign, strategy, logistics, tactics. The shoes, the tights, the delicate nylon panties (black, of course).

She has good legs and thighs for a woman her age, firm and shapely, smooth white skin that never sees the sun, not a wrinkle anywhere. Her sex is as elegant as the rest of her, sparse dark blonde hairs around the lips, hardly a forest above that, more like a thin patch on the triangle between her bony hips. She lies with her black dress pulled back on her belly and her legs still dangling, and without any further delay I kneel at the side of the bed and open her legs and start kissing the insides of her thighs.

She sighs and she moves her thighs further apart. She wants it. I can smell her now. My sensitive nose is aware of the delicate scent of her cunt. The lips have parted a bit, and the glint of wetness between them is a good omen. She may lie there like a silent martyrized virgin, but her cunt is talking, making long speeches. I lean forward and nuzzle it, touch it with my nose, the first touch, a greeting, like one dog greeting another. I’m a dog, a sniffing mongrel bitch exploring this little world of soft folds and hair and wetness. I find her clitoris with my nose and rub the tip of my nose across it from side to side. This brings an immediate response from her, another sigh, something that sounds like a moan, at least a vague sound in her throat, and she lifts her knees and opens them, spreads them in a rather obscene way as if to tell me to do more, do everything, take her cunt completely.

I lick everywhere around her clitoris, but never touching it, teasing her, deliberately attempting to drive her crazy. I slide a hand upward, along her body to find a breast, a nipple, my fingers rubbing the nipple through her clothes. Suddenly I become voracious, my tongue, my mouth devouring her flesh, all the wetness sucked inside, my lips now rubbing directly over her clitoris, first my lips and then my nose, faster and faster, as she moans, as she rocks her knees from side to side. When she comes, she heaves her buttocks off the bed to slap her cunt against my face. I suck hard, my face buried between her thighs, in the boiling surf. She comes down. I keep at it. I push her up to a second orgasm, and this time when she cries out it’s a deep groan, a groan from the depths of her soul, her eyes rolled back like the eyes of a medieval nun in a religious ecstasy.

It’s finished. I pull away. I know she expects me to fuck her now, get my fingers in her and make her have another orgasm, but I’ve suddenly had enough.

When I come out of the bathroom, my face is dry, my hair brushed, my equilibrium restored. She lies on the bed like a vanquished virgin, as if she hasn’t moved, except that her dress has been pulled down to her knees to restore her modesty.

“I’m leaving,” I say.

She opens her eyes. She says nothing. She just looks at me, a long steady look. She talks with her eyes, the way a few minutes ago she talked with her cunt.

“Take my card,” she says at last. “There’s one on the dressing table.”

I find the card. Mrs. Helene Huntington, an address on East 67th Street in Manhattan. “Have a good flight home,” I say, and I walk out.

In the corridor in the George V, outside the elevator, I fold the card and stuff it into the ashtray used for cigarettes and cigars.

End

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note: Wow, I’m so humbled and flattered by the comments I’ve received, both public and private. This series is so very dear to me and sometimes, I have to let it breathe for a bit before I wrangle it for y’all. Well, thank you all very much for your patience. Without further ado, the Wound in Time series continues with this installment. I know it’s short but it’s one of those chapters.

And as is known by now, the story contains mainly F/F action as well as a plot or so I’ve been told. It’s a lengthy piece and thus, no instant gratification. Please check out the previous chapters if you want extra dirt on the characters. They’re not listed in order but the titles are sequential as follows: (WIT)At First, Blind Borne, Escapade, Felon Failing Fallen, Just Juxtapose and Material Martyr. That said, read on and hopefully, enjoy the story. Please don’t forget to comment….it truly helps the process 8D

TMAJO

As I lay your bed, so you lie on it.

*************previously******************

“Keep your hands to yourself.” Mavin said coldly as she reached the place between Selene’s thighs and ran a finger along the folds of flesh through the moist material. A current of electricity zigzagged up her spine and settled in her brain. She moved her fingers again, and it happened again.

“Or else what?” Selene teased, her mission forgotten for the moment.

Mavin didn’t respond after that. She continued her exploration, still unsure of what she wanted out of it.

“You should know; when all this is over, I won’t spare your life.” Mavin ripped the woman’s thong aside.

********************

The very audible rip was the last she could take. She pulled the dripping material out from under Selene’s skirt and took a step back.

“You tell your boss, I’m not here to play. When y’all are ready to deal, you know where you can find me.” With that the tall butch turned her back and left Selene shivering in the cold.

“What?!” Selene barked. “Who do you think you are?!” She screamed into the frosty air. But Mavin had already disappeared into the mist. “Fuck!”

************

She’d been sleeping a dreamless slumber when the metal clanging woke her up. She groaned at the crude alarm that was soon followed by an equally crude voice.

“Hey you, time to go!” A flash of light and a harsh scraping; she was dragged up to her sore feet by a pair of rough hands. “Someone would like to have a few words with you.”

Bellinda mumbled something in a haze. Her skin crawled from exposure to the foul air. Before she could pick anything else to complain about, the redhead was thrust into a room with overly bright lights. She winced, snapping her eyes shut and attempted to get her bearings. She felt herself being pressed into a chair and as before, it was cold against her skin…jarring her senses.

A few minutes go by and her eyes had adjusted. She scanned the room slowly; taking note of the mirror on the wall that she didn’t doubt was double-sided. She didn’t dare to recognize the figure she saw. Her throat felt dry and her body ached with fatigue…how long had she been here, she wondered. Though, not for long as the door hissed open and in walked a man dressed impeccably in an expensive-looking wool suit wielding a sweating jar of what seemed to be water, and a glass.

She watched as he walked in; his steps calculated and oddly relaxed. He placed the glass on the table in front of her and proceeded to fill it with water. Bellinda kept her eyes focused on the water as it trickled into the glass; climbing higher and higher until the glass brimmed with the liquid.

She kept her eyes on the glass watching the condensation form, and didn’t move, not knowing what to do really. She noticed that the man was standing, waiting for something. She rolled her eyes up to catch a glimpse of him. His face was smooth and considerably charming; dark eyes that danced with a playful glint were capped by groomed brows. His lips were tugged into a tiny smile…a stretch of a smirk.

“Have a drink, I know you’re thirsty.” The tone was disarmingly soft and designed to put her at ease. But the redhead felt nothing at ease in her position. She swallowed hard, trying to kick-start her salivary glands into action.

“What’s in it?” She managed to croak.

“Hydric acid.” He said off-handedly and walked to sit on the edge of the table.

“And now that I know, you still expect me to drink it?”

“Yes.” He replied simply, clasping his palm together in front of him.

“And if I don’t?” The subtle hint of his cologne wafted into her nostrils.

“You fail my expectation.” He said with a small gesture of his hands; the large diamond ring gleaming on the smallest finger of his right hand.

“So what is this, a test?” She eyed him quizzically.

“You can call it that. I prefer to say an extension of hospitality.” His voice rolled with a rhyme, every word assigned a delicate purpose and air.

“No thank you.” Bellinda fought the urge to lick her lips.

“And escort bodrum here we are. Miss Ross, I’m afraid there’s been a sore misunderstanding in these past events. However, simple the error may have been, correcting it would be more tasking for all involved.”

“Spare me the jargon and cut to the chase.”

“And I like you already. Have you heard of the Winston Operation?” He said in a too relaxed manner as though they were old friends chatting up on current gossip.

“No.” Bellinda glared at him, wondering what his angle was.

“Well, I think I just might enjoy telling you about it…of course, while I cut to the chase.” He ran a hand along his angular jaw.

Bellinda folded her arms and contemplated spilling the acid in front of her on him but not knowing what her next move would be was enough to keep her seated. Besides, she figured, whatever information this guy seemed so eager to offer could be of use to her somehow.

“I see that I have your attention.” He said with a smile, showing a perfectly straight set of white teeth. He cleared his throat and began, “During the 1950s the Winston Operation was begun as a government-controlled scheme aimed at normalizing the masses. The American Dream was founded upon the ideals of happiness in suburbia, supplied by business in the urban enclave.

Of course, any type of growth in business was good for the government and if the masses remained too pleased for too long, business failed. So instead of waiting for the unhappiness to settle in by normal course, the Winston Operation was designed to construct it and present it to the people.

And what other way to instruct displeasure in the human psyche could be better than the human psyche itself? Hence the drive to ‘normalize’ the masses; make them believe that there is not only something wrong, but something better and they’ll pay to the heavens for a better fix.

But indeed, it was easier said than done. The government likes to meddle without seeming to meddle. Thus, the task of creating hysteria was placed in the hands of the people themselves…well, those who sought to benefit behind the bureaucratic tape. The people made their own unhappiness and the government profited from allowing the solution.”

“And who are these people?”

“The pharmaceutical industry.” He said and reached for the glass of hydric acid. He downed half of it and set the glass down with a smile. “Refreshing.”

In the same span of time that Bellinda spent wondering what the hell this man was doing drinking acid, it dawned on her that the fluid in the glass was in fact water.

“Drug companies?” Bellinda said, gleaming that much from the story.

“Yes, they make the drugs and then they make the illnesses. Then they sell the drugs and the government shares the loot. Everybody’s happy.”

“You could’ve just said that in the beginning.” Bellinda said, her brows furrowed in irritation as she still couldn’t see the point in her captivity.

“That would put you under the illusion that your involvement in this is moot, when in fact, you now play an important part in the scheme of things.”

“And here we are,” Bellinda spat, borrowing his line, “What do you want from me?”

“Not you Ms. Ross, but your father.” He said with a conniving smile that made his eyes look that much darker.

***********************

“Dude, you need to chill a bit. Your freakitude is getting to me.” Sam mumbled as she watched Mavin pacing from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill! Who are these people?” Mavin exploded, yet again.

“We’re working to find that out and you’re not helping.” Sian cut in as she clacked wildly on her keyboard. It was hard enough trying to decipher the stream of code that encrypted the signal pass ways; Sian had never seen anything like it but she didn’t need an irritable butch at her ear. “Okay I have a primary stream here, what do you have?”

“Deadzone.” Sam muttered in frustration but she wasn’t in a mood to relent. “Hang on maybe I can filter it out.”

The signal they were tied up in came through on the transmitter chip that had been planted in Mavin’s phone. They knew something was out of order when they began receiving haywire signals even though Mavin’s phone wasn’t getting any incoming calls. The signals traveled on idle back channels and due to the coded delay in the chip, Pyro and Maniac were able to pull out a primary stream.

They would’ve have been satisfied with tracking down the caller with that signal but realized soon enough that it wasn’t being generated from a specific point. The behavior of the rest of the waves also struck the twins as odd. There seemed to be a crosshatching effect in the waves that was layered with ‘deadzone’ characteristics. It made no sense at first, second and third glance but they were intent on finding out why.

Mavin on her end grew impatient. With each passing moment, her imagination grew darker, more vivid. Her guilt over what almost happened mumcular escort with Selene plagued her even more; the taste, the feel, the scent of the woman drenched her thoughts and then came the nausea at her own impulsiveness. Hot on the heels of that was her desire to inflict pain on the woman, spurred by memory of Selene’s heated moans. What had she done with the ruined panties? It was stashed next to her gun in her glove compartment.

In an attempt to distract herself, she wondered about Senator Ross and if he knew about Bellinda’s whereabouts. She’d never actually met the man but now it seemed, they had much more than a common interest. Ah yes, exactly where her head needed to be. Bellinda…what had been the last thing she’d said to the redhead? -No, better to not think of last things.

Mavin’s mind took off yet again with a tangent and landed on Federal Agent Turner. She wondered about the Oblivion3 investigation and the leads that seemed to point to A.J. Morris. The pompous bastard deserved to have the feds up his ass. A misplaced chuckle found Mavin backtracking to thoughts of Eva and her new job at H&B. She wondered about Kurt Pryce. Outside of the fact that he had a son named Jason, Mavin knew nothing about him. She wondered about the possible connection to José’s death. No…don’t go there.

Every now and then she would tune in to the babble going on between Sam and Sian but when she didn’t hear any celebratory remarks, she would fume, grunt and then repeat the thought process from the start.

*************

Washington D.C.

*************

If she didn’t know better, Agent Susan Turner would have sworn that her jaw was on the floor. In her innate act of digging, she’d come across previously sealed documents that told her far more than she needed to know…nothing.

Sitting here at her desk buried in the thickest forest of highly emaciated wood. Her eyes were tired. Her head throbbed with its own weight. She sat there, mouth agape and brows furrowed with eyes pinned to the pages of dummy records before her, – well, to the untrained eye, they would’ve appeared logical. But to her and anyone worth their salt…it was obvious that something just did not add up. Not only that, new questions as to why the records were bogus took shape.

After a short battle that involved some threats and laundry-dangling, Turner had managed to procure the records of the commission hearings held for the Oblivion3 product and its many predecessors. Other drugs pointed out why Doctor Bright’s findings hadn’t been new at all. In fact, they were recurring forms of the same disaster that had slipped past the FDA despite the blocks at the head committee review board.

Dr. Bright had caught a few and put her foot down, and that had stopped some of the flow but somehow, the drug still wound up on the streets. That was to be expected if the material in the hands of unsuspecting victims was the typical watered-down variety but it wasn’t. It was high-potency product that could only be spawned in a lab that had more than the basic test-tube furnishings.

Susan Turner’s eyes closed as she simmered on the thought for a moment. The doc had been right…on all counts. The feds were trying to cover their asses but they were still a step behind. The ties to Horizon and Beyond were becoming obvious but going after a man like Kurt Pryce on the basis of a whim would be-

“Come to bed honey.” The voice, in the dead of night was loud and jarring yet, pleading at the same time.

“Hmm Chris…you know what this is…” Susan sighed and fought the urge to glance at the clock. She knew it was well past late.

“And it’ll only get worse if you wear yourself out.” Chris’ voice floated back to her.

“But it’s better for you to wear me out?” Susan said tiredly with an invisible smirk.

“You know what I mean…this isn’t healthy.” Chris moved toward her, reaching forward to rub her shoulders.

“It’s my job…” Susan turned around with a sigh. Her tired gaze fell on her husband’s naked form. She dragged her eyes lazily up his body until they locked onto his eyes. “You’re not playing fair.”

“I was unaware we were playing.” His grey-eyed expression morphed into a pained one. “Don’t overdo it Sue.” He finished and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before turning around and leaving.

Susan leaned back into her chair, watching him go…she spun around with her eyes closed and tried to decide what she wanted. She snapped her eyes open before long, “No game.” She whispered to no one and pulled the file into her grasp…another round of perusing.

***************

New York

***************

What was he to do?

“Richie, I don’t like it anymore than you do but I need to watch my back.”

“G.M., relax. Getting worked up about this isn’t going to help.”

“Oh, isn’t that nifty?”

“Listen, if Pryce thinks he can squirm out of the heat now, he’s got problems.”

“Richie, that man is up to gümbet escort bayanlar something. I feel it…I can smell it.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Well, I say it’s time to save skin.”

‘click…whirrr’ The recording device silently performed its task, unbeknown to the subjects.

*************

“Mavin, go home and clear your head.” Sian said firmly, her eyes searching the turmoil in Mavin’s.

“I need to get in touch with Senator Ross. Can you put that through on a cold line?”

“Did you hear –” Sian breathed, “Alright look, I’ll hook that up for you but you need to leave for a few hours…get some air.”

“Yeah sure.” Mavin shook her head.

“Take your mind off things, catch the news. Lose the bitch’s thong.” Sian smiled the look of worry.

Mavin’s eyes snapped wider but she didn’t say anything. Instead she just nodded again and sighed. This was no way to spend the holidays.

**************

“I’m really worried Adam.” Joann sighed in anguish. They’d discovered Bellinda’s apartment and without any proof of a break-in, their call to the 911 emergency line had resulted in a ‘wait for 72 hours before you file a missing person’s report’ response.

“I don’t wanna have to start thinking the worst but this is very unlike her.” Adam said, with his hands clasped in front of his unshaven face. The woes of manhood: constant stubble.

“I’m gonna call her dad right now.” Joann said with exasperation; she had already dialed the number and was waiting to be answered.

“Jack Ross speaking.” The voice boomed through the receiver.

“Dad, Bella’s missing.” Joanna didn’t bother with the bush; rolling her eyes at Adam who slapped his forehead at his friend’s bluntness.

“W-what do you mean missing?” Apparently he had no idea.

“Yes sir, I’m so worried. I haven’t been able to find her. She’s not picking up her cell and no one has seen her over the last two days. The show is coming up and it’s unlike her to ignore things like this, especially not after the recent events….” Jo trailed off with the panic in her tone rising.

“Joann calm down, are you sure about this-“

“Her apartment is a mess! Completely turned upside down, I strongly doubt she was in that much of a rush to leave on her own.”

“Okay, calm down. Who else have you called?”

“I called Mavin but-“

“Who’s Mavin?”

“Oh…that’s er…Doctor Mavin Bright….she’s the one Bella’s seeing but I wasn’t able to reach her there.”

“Alright, give me the information, I’ll see for myself.”

Joann sighed and sniffled as she transferred Mavin’s contact information to Bellinda’s father. She really couldn’t think of why he’d want the number since she had called Mavin already to no avail.

“Call me immediately if you hear or see anything, Joann.” Jack said right before the line was snipped.

Joann sighed in exasperation. She felt completely helpless but couldn’t stop her herself from wishing that Bellinda was pulling a prank on them. ‘Cause if she wasn’t….

************

Mavin tossed and turned in her nap. She’d been forced to. It was either take a nap or call Eva and spread the panic; or call Eva and ask for fuckable company; or call Zeke and plan a black-ops attack on an enemy she hadn’t been able to identify yet. Trying to figure out who would want Bellinda enough to kidnap her made her think of rich exes and José’s killers and of course, the deeper her thoughts ran, the more prone she was to violently lashing out. On what would she lash out? Mavin didn’t want to find out.

She tried not to think of Janet. The woman whose company she’d been acquainted with for the better part of three years. They’d met at Jasmine’s behest, – at one of Jazz’s wild parties where the alcohol practically rained from the ceiling and every attendee were either drunk or smelled drunk. Funny enough, Mavin hadn’t wasted herself that night.

The music had been loud; Jazz didn’t do it any other way. The beats were primal and were designed to drive the mind to the deep end of insanity. Crazy shit happened. People danced close; the alcohol almost igniting from the heat being generated. Mavin had scanned the crowd and had a few appetizers of the scantily clad women. Now, she was looking for a full course. She’d seen Janet earlier but had been preoccupied with the hood rat grinding against her leg. Cecelia had been there too. Watching the tall butch; watching everyone eye the tall butch.

The beats pounded exotic. The girl on Mavin’s thigh was doing a shaky number and throwing Mavin off. She smirked when she realized the girl was having an orgasm. She was tempted to just step away and let the girl pick herself up. There was a huge wet spot on her denim where the girl had managed to balance her hot crotch. Mavin rolled her eyes as the girl clung on with the aftershocks.

Mavin was about to pull away and get her second drink when she felt a soft mass pushing into her back. A hand snaked into her line of sight, presenting a good-looking drink. Mavin accepted it as she turned around. The girl she was dancing with had dissolved into the crowd and Mavin bit back the resentment of having been used as a scratching pole. All that was forgotten just as soon as her gaze landed on the deep, – almost black eyes that were gleaming from the smooth, impish face of the woman standing before her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Grace and I worked for hours together unpacking boxes and putting things in the perfect places. All during this time, we got to know a lot about each other.

I learned that Grace was quite the artist as we hung many of her own works around the house. One painting in particular was of a former lover of hers, Bethany. She was lying on a day bed, which now occupied Grace’s sitting room which would soon to become her art studio.

Bethany was partially wrapped by a red satin sheet, slightly exposing her ample bosom. Her pussy was covered, but her long, slender legs were quite visible. Her milky white skin glistening in the candlelight. Her long flowing dark hair seemed to be blowing gracefully in a slight breeze. I later learned that Grace had turned on a large fan to blow onto Bethany to create the effect.

Five o’clock rolled around before either of us knew it. If not for me being near the large bay window of Grace’s studio, I would not have seen David pull up in our driveway in his beat-up Dodge Ram that he used for work at the garage.

“Uh-oh,” I gasped, turning towards Grace. “David’s home. I need to leave before he gets really upset. He’s already going to be angry with me for not having dinner on the table for him.”

“Would you like for me to walk you home, Desiree?” Grace asked, a hint of concern on her face.

“That’s ok, Grace.” I assured her. “I don’t want him going off on you for keeping me away from my ‘Wifely Duties’.”

“I understand, dear.” Grace replied. “But just know that I can take care of myself.”

We hugged each other as I rushed down the stairs and got to the door. Grace was right behind me.

“What about your crystal tray?” she asked.

“I can pick it up later…or tomorrow.” I assured her as I went out the door and across the street to my own home.

When I got to the door and glanced back over at Grace’s house. She was standing in the doorway watching me closely.

Once I opened the door and stepped in, the shouting began.

“Where the Hell have you been and why is there no supper on the table?” David yelled as he met me at the door.

“I…I was helping our new neighbor…get settled in.” I whis-pered softly.

“New neighbor, huh?” David replied, almost calming down…just a bit. “Who is he?”

“Our neighbor is a woman, David.” I told him. “Her name is Grace.”

“A woman?” David said as he went to the door and looked out the window, seeing Grace still on the front porch. “She’s hot.”

I thought about telling him that Grace was bodrum escort bayan a lesbian, but as jealous as he is, not to mention how much of a ass he is…he’d just get mad again.

I went into the kitchen and whipped up a quick meal for Da-vid and sat it on the table. While he ate (he prefers to eat alone these days), I went upstairs and ran him a hot bath. These are the day to day chores I have to do to keep what’s left of our marriage together.

I, then, went to the bedroom to set out his pajamas and turn down his bed. Since his football and work injuries, we have had to get two separate twin beds. David’s is as hard as a rock while mine is considerably softer.

Just then, I heard David’s angry voice shout from the kitch-en.

“What happened to my lunch meat?”

Shakily, I descended the stairs and paused at the kitchen door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, eyes lo-wered to the floor.

“I…I fixed a welcome dish for Grace. I…” but I didn’t get the chance to finish as David hauled off with his fist and hit me hard. I fell to the floor whimpering and pleading for him to not hit me again. David just scoffed and stepped over me and went upstairs to take his bath, leaving me crumpled on the floor, my nose bleeding and my left eye began to swell up, almost to the point of closing. I just whimpered for a few more minutes before collecting myself and staggered over to the table and clean up David’s plate and dispose of his empty beer can.

Still aching from the punch David gave me, I sucked it up and continued to clean up the kitchen. Washing the dishes be-came difficult as my nose continued to steadily drip down into the soapy water. David refused to get a dishwasher, saying that as long as I was able to I was going to wash them by hand.

That night, I slept on the couch. Something David made me do whenever I pissed him off.

It was around eleven o’clock when there was a light tapping on the front door. Groggily, and only having use of one eye, I stumbled slowly in the darkened house and finally found my way to the front door.

“Who…who is it?” I asked softly, as to not wake up David.

“It’s me, dear. Grace,” she replied just as softly.

I turned and leaned my back against the door, closing my one good eye and sighing softly.

‘How can I face her like this?’ I asked myself.

Willing up the courage, I quietly unlocked both the dead-bolt and the knob lock, easing the door open just enough to only show my bodrum sınırsız escort right eye.

“I just wanted to see how you are doing, dear.” Grace asked, the concern evident.

“Oh, I’m fine, Grace.” I lied. “Thank you for caring.”

“It would make me feel a lot better if you’d open the door a little more so I can see for myself.”

“I…I can’t. What if David…?” I began. But Grace was too quick and too strong for me as she pushed the door open and stepping inside.

“Oh, my God, dear.” Grace gasped, slowing reaching out to touch my swollen left eye. “Did David do this to you?”

I started to cry, but Grace eased me outside on the porch so as to not wake up David.

“Come with me, dear.” Grace told me sternly as she half dragged me across the street to her house.

“But, Grace…what if Dav…?”

Grace shushed me, but would not take ‘No’ for an answer.

Once inside Grace’s home, she ushered me into the living room and had me sit down on the couch. She left me long enough to go into her kitchen and came out with a tray that had an assortment of herbs and a bowl of cool water.

Grace made a cool compress of calendula, chamomile and fennel blossoms. Having me lie down on my back, Grace placed the compress gently over my left eye.

“Now, just lay back and relax.” Grace admonished. “Let the herbs work their magic.”

As I laid there, feeling the coolness of the compress begin to ‘work it’s magic’, I caught Grace’s eyes slowly take in my nightie-clad form. A soft smile of approval came to her luscious lips. I began to feel like I was a prize ham at a Thanksgiving dinner.

Blushing brightly, my breathing began to get more labored and it felt like my heart was trying to beat a pathway out of my chest. My short, frilly…almost transparent…pink nightie did little to hide my near naked body. I wore a matching pair of skimpy (a size too small) panties. My nipples stood erect and I could feel that my panties were getting damp as Grace subconsciously licked her lips.

‘Oh, my God.” I said to myself. ‘Grace is getting aroused…and so am I. But, I’m not a lesbian…am I?’

Softly, Grace place her right hand on my left knee and gently stroked it. Catching herself, Grace jumped up as if she had sat on a hot burner and turned away from me. I could hear a low sob as she realized what she what she was doing.

Reaching out to her with a trembling hand, I touched her left thigh. Grace gasped, bodrum merkez escort but slowly turned to look down at me.

“It’s ok, Grace.” I assured her. “I…I may not be a lesbian. But I’m not opposed to the idea. If only I wasn’t out of sorts and scared out of my wits…I would not turn you away.”

Leaning down over me, Grace gave me my very first lesbian kiss. It was soft, gentle and brief. I could feel Grace’s lips quiver-ing just as much as my own. I closed my good eye and sighed softly.

Grace sat on the edge of the couch, scooching my legs over just a bit, placed her hands lightly on my shoulders and leaned in once again. This time her kiss was a little more urgent and pas-sionate. I opened my lips slightly to let her warm, searching ton-gue enter and tangle fiercely with my own tongue. We both moaned as Grace’s hands drifted to my satin-covered 36C breasts. She kneaded each in her hands causing my back to arch up, forcing more contact with them.

Grace paused the kiss and slowly sat up, eying my wreath-ing form below her.

“Are…are you sure…you want to go further, Desiree?” Grace asked, like a schoolgirl on her first date.

As a way of answering her, I place a hand behind her head and pulled her back down into yet another passionate kiss, letting my hands drift down her back, around her sides to come around to her v-neck red gown that did little to cover her own 42D breasts. Her nipples were rock hard and straining to meet my touch. This caused a moan to escape Grace’s mouth, right into mine.

By this time, the compress had slid off of my face and lay forgotten in the cushion of the couch as our hands began roaming all over each other’s bodies. Seeking entrance beneath our clothes. Seeking skin on skin contact.

Suddenly, there was a pounding on Grace’s door. It was Da-vid, nearly knocking the door down.

Grace jumped up and went to the door, opened it slightly and was knocked down on the floor as David rampaged into her house before she could say a single word.

He rushed into the living room and found me lying there, my breasts had somehow slipped out during our passionate fondling. David grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up off the couch and held my weakened body high in the air. I felt his fist hit me first in the gut sending all the air out of my lungs along with some blood. His next hit caught me on the right side of the face.

“Are you a lesbian slut now, bitch?” David growled as he stood over me, ready to stomp his boot right into my prone, limp body.

I was writhing in pain as blood flowed down my forehead in into my eyes. My husband of ten years standing above me in yet another drunken rage of fury. Darkness was soon to overtake me, as it had many times before. But, before darkness takes me to oblivion, a thud lands beside me and a flowing gown sweeps past my vision…but only for an instant, then blackness.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I had seen her many times before, but never had I actually noticed her. Today however there was just something about her that had caught my eye. I had never before found myself attracted to another female. I never even imagined myself with another female. I had been in my fair share of relationships and breakups with men, each always leaving me feeling empty and heartbroken. I don’t know how long I was staring at her. She was the vision of perfection, long tresses of sunset gold against lightly tanned flesh. Her pouty lips seemed to just scream out to be kissed, suckled and tasted. I was actually undressing her with my eyes. Imagining what she looked like beneath that blue strapless sundress that adorned her body, clinging to her perfect figure. It wasn’t until she turned and those eyes like emeralds sparkling like the most magnificent jewel I had ever seen penetrated my own, almost hypnotically entrancing me under a spell. I know I should have glanced away, but I couldn’t move. She had me breath taken. I don’t really know what it was about her that enticed me so, but I had to have her.

She began to walk towards me. Her hips swayed with a seductiveness that I had never seen. Golden curls bounced freely along her bare shoulders. She knew that I had been watching her, obsessing over her, desiring her. As she approached me, my lips parted to allow myself to speak, but no words were found. I had never been one to lack a voice before, but this woman had taken away my breath, my voice, she subdued my mind. I felt as if I was under some sort of spell. When she smiled her face lit up like a full moon lighting the night sky. She leaned forward letting her lips just barely brush along my ear lobe. The warmth of her breath blowing caressed along the sensitive areas of my neck. Whispered words were barely heard. Goosebumps had already begun making that trail over my body; chills ran down along my spine. I could feel my heart beating so hard and fast I feared it would explode.

My actions were led on instinct, for I really had no idea what I was doing. I had to touch her, to feel the smoothness of silkened flesh beneath my fingertips. Impulsively my hand found its way to her bare shoulder. Fingers were set free to roam gently along the warmth of her flesh, slowly moving down to that lining where her dress met just above her breast. I glanced up, letting my eyes get lost within those emerald depths, only for a moment. It was then that I felt the softness of bodrum escort those perfectly ripened lips pressing against mine. My eyes fell behind the prisons of my lashes, locking out the realities around us, letting only the feelings that overwhelmed my body, take control. Her tongue urged my lips to part allowing our tongues to meet together and begin that dance of everlasting desire. If I had even noticed the way her skilled hands began removing my clothing I would not have cared. The only thing on my mind at this moment was to touch, taste, and become one with this woman. My own hands had lowered her dress to reveal those perfectly ripened melons. I could feel her nipples harden beneath my touch as my finger gently toyed with one before moving on to its twin.

I did not want that kiss to ever end. I was reluctant when she pulled back, bringing her finger up gently to press along my lips, silencing me. My eyes remained closed, even as I felt myself being lowered into the plushness of the thick carpet below me. She lowered herself down over me letting our bare bodies connect to feel each others warmth and passion. Very slowly she began to move her body down along mine, her lips dragging with a featherlike touch along my flesh. I began to moan softly, letting her know that her touches were welcomed and that I craved more. Those lips had found there way around the swell of my nipple, closing around that hardened little bud she began sucking with a hungered desire. My back arched, forcing my breast closer to her. I could not get enough; the heat that ran through me was enough to make my blood boil. I could already feel the glistening dampness between my legs increasing, the intense craving to feel her fingers touch me in my most private place.

As her lips, her tongue and her teeth worked like magic over my nipples, her fingers felt like little rain drops pattering down along my stomach touching me in ways I never knew imaginable. My hand moved up intertwining within those lush gold lengths, pushing down on her head urging her to move lower and to taste of my temptation. The tormenting of teasing continued as her fingers made their way down even lower, brushing along the border of my pubic bone. I pushed my hips up even higher, practically begging for her touch. It felt like eternity before those exploring fingers finally found their way to steaming, moist pussy. My clit was swollen with anticipation, throbbing türkbükü escort for attention. Her finger pressed down lightly upon my clit and began that slow circular motion. My moans grew louder, becoming cries of mercy. She was pushing me beyond the clouds, into another dimension.

My body began to tremble with the electrifying sensations that seemed to reach out touching every nerve ending within my body. My hands tightened within those locks in which they held, pulling tighter. She took my nipple between her teeth, biting down gently but yet harsh enough to let me feel the combined pleasure with pain. Her finger began to move quicker over my clit. I continued to thrust my hips into her touch. She released my nipple from its hold between her teeth. I could feel the warmth of her breath making a gradual decline downwards along my flesh. This is what I had been waiting for. Her finger was replaced by the rough texture of her tongue. Her finger slid down finding the entrance of my ecstasy. As her finger slid within the heat of my passion, burying itself within that moisture driven by her touch, I pushed her head even further into me, forcing her to take more of me, to taste the sweetness of my nectar, and drive me into an orgasm greater than I have known. She took my clit within her mouth, suckling hard upon it and letting her teeth occasionally nibble. Her finger began to slide within my depths, curling within to tickle upon that special spot. I continued to cry out and moan louder. I wanted so badly to cum all over her finger. Though, just as my orgasm was ready to burst forth, her finger pulled out of me.

She rose up slightly looking upon my pained features. She was torturing me. She knew I had wanted to cum, knew how close I had become. She waited for a few seconds, bringing me down slightly from those clouds in which I had nestled. Before I could come down too far however, she was at it again. This time she inserted two fingers within me, thrusting them deep inside, fast and hard. Her tongue resumed playing over my clit, lapping at the juices my body emitted.

Once again I was on the verge of orgasm. This time she did not stop. Her fingers continued to thrust faster and harder. Her tongue moved almost arithmetically to the speed of her fingers. My body shuttered, my back arched, my hips thrusting, my moans becoming screams as I let out those built up juices into an exploding konacık escort orgasm, soaking her fingers in their entirety. Just as I had thought she was done, I was proven wrong. Her fingers slipped free from within me, her tongue moved down to replace them. Pushing her tongue within me she was taking in all that sweet honey nectar she had drawn forth from me.

My body glistened like the early morning dew upon a blade of grass lit up by the rising sun. I was in oblivion. Her free hand began to roam along my sides, sending chills throughout my body. Her tongue was like a magic wand, touching me in all the right places. Her tongue pushed up further within me, drinking in my taste. Her finger had found my clit and began toying with it once more, pressing firmly upon it and rotating her finger in a circular motion, and then taking it between two fingers and pinching upon it lightly. Her roaming hand found its way to my breast, gently cupping that soft swell within her grasp and kneading it within her hand.

“I want to taste you” I begged, beckoning her to allow me the taste of her as well. I had never tasted another woman. She seemed rather pleased with the idea, and without hesitation she was turning her body, straddling her legs over my head and repositioning herself between my thighs. I opened my eyes finally, and looked up at those pinkish lips. Her aroma alone was invigorating. I wasted no time in bringing my head up to allow my tongue to flicker out and take my first taste of a woman. I could not describe the taste, could not match it to anything else. It had a sweetness all of its own and the more of her tasted, the more of her wanted. It did not take me long before I was burying my tongue within her. My finger exploring my curiosity plunged deep within her. I could instantly feel the warmth and wetness against soft walls. My finger began to move deeper within, and then pulling back. I continued this motion, as I listened to her moans of pleasure muffled and vibrating against my mound. The combined sounds of the two of us was musical, the sweetest sounds I had ever heard.

I knew she was about to orgasm. I could feel the way her body shivered. My finger moved faster, edging her on. As soon as I felt that gush of liquidy warmth coating over my finger I quickly withdrew replacing it with my tongue. Just as she had tasted me and drank from my fountain I would do to her.

After we had both orgasmed, we found comfort within each others arms. Laying side by side, our sweaty bodies pressing against each others, we allowed our lips to meet up once more, sharing that sweet taste that still lingered upon our lips. Our hands continued to roam, caressing each others bodies. It was one of the most magnificent experiences I had ever been given the privilege of sharing.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32