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8

As was the case with Mina, so with Celine; Jade continued to see her when they were both free, especially when neither the boys nor her husband were around. Unlike Mina, who began seeing other women too, Celine remained loyal to her ‘first love’, as she called Jade, being unable to conceive of having sex with any other woman.

Jade was happy with Hunter and busy at work and very little happened to disturb her equilibrium, until one day, shortly before Christmas, all that changed. Jade had never really been interested in women who were younger than her, but she had noticed that as she approached her thirtieth birthday she was beginning to check out young girls (as she called them). One reason she tended to dismiss those who were younger than her was because she believed most of them didn’t have a brain. The social media age and the existential evil that is ChatGPT had only made the problem worse, she felt. But, as she was to discover, it had in turn made her more entrenched in her own prejudices.

In a word, she was ripe for the picking by a woman in her early twenties with an intellect the equal of or superior to her own, and with the self-confidence that wouldn’t be cowed by her manner, which could be high-handed and intimidating at times. Jade met this girl in the restaurant of the local hotel, where she had gone on a whim one Friday after finishing work for the day.

She had intended to get there around one o’clock, but in a dental practice it isn’t just patients who are inconvenienced by appointments running late, sometimes it is the dentist herself. By the time she got there, it was nearly two o’clock. In fact, she wasn’t sure why she had gone ahead with her plan and driven to the place, given that the only things they were likely to be serving were sandwiches that curled at the edges and shop bought Scotch eggs. The former she could make at home (much tastier and much more nutritious) while the latter she simply couldn’t abide.

She was surprised to find that the restaurant was still accepting serving lunch. At two or three tables, diners were finishing up their meals, but apart from that she would be the only customer. She was shown to her table by the maître d’, who told her what wasn’t available from the menu, then promptly returned to his station at the entrance. After waiting for a few minutes, a girl approached her table and asked her if she had decided what she would like.

Jade didn’t take much notice of her, not really bothering to look at her properly, as she ordered a starter (pumpkin soup) and a main course (lamb chops, which she was particularly partial to). It was only when she came back with the soup that Jade got a proper look at the waitress. She was not especially tall, or especially anything really. The most distinctive aspect about her was her voice, which had a cut glass quality that Jade hadn’t heard in many years, since she was doing dentistry at Exeter University, in fact.

Her hair was dark and cut in a kind of bob, her chest was flat and it was difficult to make out her legs, which were hidden beneath a long dark skirt. She wore men’s style shoes of the type that Jade really disliked over what appeared to be woollen socks. Yet, despite all that, as Jade mulled things over as she drank her soup, the whole was somehow greater than the sum of the parts. Jade found herself looking forward to her return, so she could engage her in conversation and see if she really had that bit of je ne sais quoi about her or whether she was building her up into something she was not.

When she came to remove the soup bowl, she asked Jade if she had enjoyed it. When Jade told her it hadn’t been as hot as it might have been, the girl said she should have informed her earlier and she would have seen to it. Not a word of sorry, nothing to soften the blow, no attempt at a bit of reparatory chit-chat, just this matter of fact commentary. Jade having nothing further to add, the girl turned on her heel and went off with the soup bowl. Feeling more intrigued than upset, Jade took out her phone, called her hygienist about something she had just remembered needed to be done, then started to read her WhatsApp messages.

When the girl arrived with the lamb, she asked Jade in a routine way whether she wanted any mint sauce or mint jelly. When Jade said she would have some mint sauce, she went off to fetch it without a word. Jade wondered if she’d got out of bed the wrong way or whether she was always like this. She reckoned the latter was more likely. One thing was clear, at any rate: she didn’t care whether she received a tip or not.

She came back and placed the dish on the table near Jade’s plate. It smelt very appetising and Jade told the girl so.

‘Good. I hope you enjoy it,’ she replied, which from her was bordering on the over-communicative.

Jade ate slowly, as was her custom, and as she chewed on the meat (which was good British lamb, not the fatty New Zealand stuff that restaurants usually served), allowed her mind to aksaray escort empty and embraced a meditative state, which was all too rare for her nowadays with her responsibilities as a wife now added to those of looking after a growing practice. She had allowed herself a large glass of a decent red wine (a luxury for her at any time, let alone lunchtime) and this had the added effect of slowing her mind down.

She must have been eating for twenty minutes when the girl materialised by her side and checked that everything was to her liking. Roused from her reverie, she said it was just what the doctor ordered, expecting the girl to turn on her heels once more and leave her in peace. Instead, she asked her if she wanted a dessert or a coffee before the kitchen shut for the afternoon.

‘A decaf would be good,’ she replied, looking up at the waitress.

They made eye contact and Jade felt that familiar spark, which was the last thing she would have expected. For a moment she thought the girl was going to put her hand on her arm, even though she had made no motion to do so. Then, she thought she was going to put her hand on the girl’s arm instead, which was exactly what she found herself doing.

‘Thank you,’ she said, as much in anticipation of what she might be about to receive as in appreciation of what the girl had already done for her, which, in strictly objective terms, was minimal in the extreme.

‘I get off in twenty minutes,’ the girl spoke softly, almost in a whisper.

Jade wasn’t sure if she had heard her right. She had said something about twenty minutes, but was she really making a pass at her, or was she issuing another reminder about closing time? Jade remained silent, then, realising she was still holding her arm, withdrew it and started fiddling with her knife and fork.

‘Did you hear me?’ the girl continued, unfazed by Jade’s apparent confusion.

‘Um, the kitchen’s closing, so you want me out.’

‘But you haven’t even had your decaf yet,’ the girl’s posh tones only accentuated the teasing tone.

‘Oh, that’s not important. I suddenly realised I needed to get home.’

‘But why? Is someone waiting for you?’

Jade realised the girl must have seen her wedding ring, not to mention the diamond engagement ring beside it.

‘Um, well, yes, actually – since you ask.’

‘And there’s nothing else you’d rather be occupying your time with?’

‘Er, look, I think you have the wrong idea about me.’

‘Do I? Is that why you’re hitting on me?’

‘Did it seem like that to you? It was just meant as a friendly gesture.’

‘Suit yourself. As I said, I get off work in twenty minutes, so shall I bring you your decaf and you can have a little think?’

‘A decaf would be great,’ replied Jade, looking at the girl again and giving her a forced smile.

‘I won’t keep you waiting long,’ said the once taciturn girl, placing her hand on Jade’s before moving it away so she could clear her plate.

9

‘”I won’t keep you waiting long”!’ now the girl was toying with her, thought Jade indignantly.

Just who did she think she was! She can’t have been more than 22. This was obviously a holiday job. She must be a student. Probably doing Women’s Studies. Became a lesbian because she couldn’t attract any men. Maybe not even a real lesbian. Just likes playing games with older women, preferably married ones.

‘Maybe I should call her bluff,’ Jade thought. ‘Come onto her strong. That should deflate her little entitled bubble. Everyone these days thinks they can bully an Asian girl. We’ll let them trample all over us. Won’t fight back. Easy pickings. Well, I’ll show her different.’

Jade had no more trouble from the girl during the rest of her meal. Sanity prevailed and she asked for the bill so she could go home and flop on her bed. She really was that tired. When the bill came, it was accompanied by a business card for the hotel. Standard sort of thing. Jade wouldn’t be tucking that in her purse – that was for sure.

She gave the girl her credit card and, while she was waiting for her to process it, she took the card and carelessly turned it over. On the back, was a hand-written message in blue ink: ‘Come to the bungalow at the back. Exit through the door marked “Children’s play area”.’ Jade put the card back the way she had found it and composed herself so that by the time the girl returned she would never know she had read her note.

When the girl returned with her card and the receipt, Jade was ready with a tip, which the girl accepted with a nod of the head and a quizzical look. There was an awkward silence (awkward, at least for Jade), broken not by any words but by Jade getting up, gathering her things and starting for the exit. She made a point of not looking back and continued walking until she reached her car. She opened the door, sat down at the wheel and sighed.

She told herself she didn’t find the girl attractive – neither her appearance nor her personality. amasya escort But the handwritten note played on her mind, nonetheless. She decided to text Hunter to tell him she needed to return to the clinic to talk to the builders who she had engaged to build the extension for the new dentist she was taking on. Feeling better now that she had taken some control over the situation, she started the car and put it in reverse.

Aware that she was shivering, she paused for a second, then started fiddling with the heating. The car warmed up in short order, but the shivering didn’t stop. It only intensified. She put the car in neutral and checked herself in the rear-view mirror. Her face was full of colour, which she found odd, since she rarely blushed. She decided she must be coming down with something and switched the engine off.

She thought of the girl’s mannish shoes and ugly socks, and laughed at herself. Then, unbidden, the memory of the girl’s hand on her own flooded her senses. She found herself getting out of the car and re-entering the hotel. She found the exit to the children’s play area and put her hand on the door handle. No one seemed to be around. The place was as quiet as a graveyard. Opening the door, she went out into the garden and saw the bungalow. She thought she’d walk towards it, knowing that at any time she could retrace her steps and return to the clinic – or home. Or anywhere she wished.

She knocked on the door, then instantly regretted doing so and decided to walk – no, run – back to the safety of her car. She found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move, as if someone had cast a spell on her. The door opened and the girl was there, inviting her inside. She must have gone in, because, before she knew it, she was sitting on the small two-person sofa. She heard the door click shut. She was suddenly aware that her heart was beating very fast. She thought of making a dash for the door, but knew she would be unable to open it. It must have been locked with a security code and she didn’t know the code.

The girl was taking a shower. She could hear the sound of the water falling against the tiles. She had nothing for it but to wait until she came back out to the living room and opened the door for her. She waited on the edge of her seat, her head bowed, her heart still pumping as if she had climbed a lengthy flight of stairs. Finally, she became aware that the girl had rejoined her. She could smell her shampoo, or her body wash, or some scent she was wearing. She must be very close.

The seat next to her was suddenly not empty any more. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the girl’s bare feet. They looked quite different without those ugly shoes, and those horrible socks. Turning her head slightly, she could see the girl’s knees (not unattractive at all) and her thighs – milky and well defined. She thought she must be naked until she saw the white, shiny, satiny material of her – what was it? – her short, very short, dressing gown, perhaps.

‘Look at me,’ the girl said, her cut glass accent softened, as if it were wearing a muffler.

Jade made herself look at the girl and saw that she was smiling at her. She saw that the sash of her wraparound was loosely tied around her waist. The swell of her breasts was clearly visible. She was sitting there like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped.

‘I, I think I should go,’ said Jade with difficulty, as if she had a constriction in her throat.

‘But why?’ the girl replied. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’

‘You’re an odd one,’ Jade said, calming down and as she did so better able to give vent to her frustration.

‘What’s your name, anyway?’ she said, irritably.

‘Angela,’ said the girl, with a smile.

‘You’re not very angelic,’ Jade shot back, but without any real venom.

‘You’re here, aren’t you?’

‘I think that’s a reflection more of your demonic qualities than your angelic ones.’

The was a pause.

‘So are you going to tell me your name?’

‘Jade.’

‘A beautiful precious stone. It fits.’

Jade laughed in spite of herself.

‘Do you treat all your customers like that?’

‘I won’t put up with any nonsense from the leches. You saw my smiley side.’

‘Did you take a dislike to me because I’m married? Or because I’m not white?’

‘I didn’t take a dislike to you. I’d just had a hard time of it today. I wasn’t feeling in the mood to serve another customer.’

‘I think you may be in the wrong job!’

‘It’s just a holiday job. Dad knows the guy who owns the hotel, that’s all.’

‘You’re a student?’

‘Yes, I’m studying to be a vet.’

‘Makes sense,’ said Jade. ‘You’ve got to like animals more than you like humans.’

Angela took the teasing in good part.

‘And you? What do you do?’

‘I work with people, but keep them shut up most of the time. I’m a dentist.’

‘You work here?’

‘Yes. I have my own practice. I’m expanding it because I can’t keep up with antalya escort the demand.’

‘I can see why you would be so popular.’

‘I’m very good at my job, I would have you know.’

‘I didn’t think you were so old,’ said Angela, placing a hand on Jade’s knee through her skirt.

‘There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,’ replied Jade, placing her own hand on Angela’s bare knee.

‘Things I’d want to know?’ said the girl.

By way of response, Jade laughed, removed her hand from Angela’s knee and settled back into the sofa.

‘You’re married to a man, I take it,’ Angela probed.

‘You ask a lot of questions,’ Jade returned. ‘I wish you’d been a bit more communicative when I was your customer.’

‘Like I said, I’d had a bad day. You were the brightest spot in it.’

‘Wow! It must have been bad then!’

‘So you wear those horrendous clothes to turn off the men?’

‘Well, it works – most of the time, anyway. Men are so shallow and so predictable.’

‘I’ll tell my husband that. Mind you, he’d laugh, agree with you and try to get into your pants.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Angela, suddenly serious again.

‘Relax!’ said Jade. ‘He’s the one who has it tough in our relationship. I don’t think he’d ever be unfaithful to me.’

‘Sounds like an intriguing guy.’

‘He’s quite a bit older than me. He was married before. His wife only died a year ago.’

‘Did you know her?’

‘Has anyone ever told you you ask too many questions?’

‘Not today.’

‘That’s hardly surprising. I could have got more conversation out of the statue at the entrance than you when you were waitressing.’

‘I must have done something right. You gave me a nice tip.’

‘Well, you wrote me such a lovely note.’

They fell silent for a minute or so. Jade was the first to break it.

‘You know I’m not really into young women.’

‘Me neither.’

‘I must be at least five years older than you.’

‘But you don’t seem it. And I really go for older, married types.’

Jade thought about Mina and Celine. She seemed to have a lot in common with this girl.

‘Tell me about it. Have you been seducing the lecturers on your course?’

‘Sadly, we don’t have any female lecturers this year. But, you were close. I seduced the veterinary microbiology lecturer’s wife.’

‘Did he get to know?’

‘She got a bit neurotic when I told her we couldn’t be an item, but, no, she told him she was a lesbian but she was the soul of discretion about us.’

‘And she would be how old?’

’45.’

‘And you are?’

’22.’

‘Yes, I can see that snaring me would be like cradle-snatching for you.’

‘And you, Jade. How old are you?’

‘I will be 30 next birthday.’

‘Wow! You don’t look a day over 25. You must tell me how you do it.’

‘Firstly, by not putting myself through the wringer by letting stuck-up students mess with my emotions.’

‘And secondly?’

‘By taking advantage of each and every opportunity that comes my way.’

10

Letting the words hang in the air, Jade applied her hands to the sash that was holding together Angela’s apology for a dressing gown and pulled the two ends slowly but inexorably until the bow disintegrated and the garment fell open. Her eyes fell first on the girl’s full bush, then below it to her pussy. It looked very trim, like a bed in a hotel room with all the edges tucked away neat and tidy, with no creases. Definitely, one for the short list! thought Jade.

But for now, her attention was focused on the girl’s breasts – so crudely camouflaged in the restaurant beneath her abject clothing. To really get a decent look at them, Jade had to push back the satin fabric, which she duly did, opting to keep the article on for the time being. The pear-shape tits were dominated by their broad areoles, above which sat moderately sized nipples. Jade looked forward to working on those nipples in due course. She was in no mood to rush things after the emotional turmoil she had been through.

She was about to kiss Angela when her phone rang.

‘I’m sorry, I’d better take this,’ she said, thinking it might be the builders, who were difficult to get hold of at the best of times.

‘As long as you take me afterwards,’ replied Angela, in her poshest tones.

‘Hi, darling,’ she said to Hunter, who was video calling her, as he sometimes liked to do.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, with a broad grin on his face, realising she was in the middle of a conference, but not with any client or builder.

Jade looked at Angela with a lascivious grin.

‘Just a second, darling,’ she said.

‘I know how much he’d like to watch us,’ she said to Angela. ‘Would you mind that very much?’

‘I think it would be a tremendous turn-on,’ replied the trainee vet, retying the sash above her waist. ‘Let me get my tripod so we can do it properly.’

Angela went off to her bedroom and, instead of returning, called to Jade to join her. Her heart racing, Jade made her way to the bedroom and fixed her phone on the tripod, which Angela then adjusted until she had it how she wanted it. She then turned on all the lights in the room before joining Jade, standing with her beside the bed holding hands, like a couple of excited schoolgirls.

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 last few weeks have been some of the best of my life.

Riley and I were madly in love and the sex was incredible. I was addicted and found myself having withdrawals or getting ‘hangry’ like symptoms on days where we couldn’t get each other off one way or the other.

Meeting in stairwells before and after class. In bathrooms during class. In the locker room shower after practice. At my house after school if we couldn’t get privacy in the locker room showers. In my car after various dates. Hell, I even went down on her under the table at the Cheesecake Factory and she came while the waiter was talking to her.

We were horny teens, plain and simple.

To say we have been having fun was a massive understatement.

Bella was also a constant in our lives. Though, her boyfriend was getting relatively jealous because we wouldn’t join them for a ‘foursome’ and/or he wasn’t allowed to join us. We almost agreed to have him and Bella in the same room while me and Riley went at it but ultimately we didn’t like the idea of him sneaking in where he shouldn’t be.

The best he ever got was a video of the three of us going at it like wild animals.

Bella admitted that the first time she ever used the strap on with a woman was that same day with us and had even bought it that day before. He wasn’t a fan of us using it because he felt she was having a better time with us than with him. And to be honest, she admitted to us that her orgasms with us were way more intense, especially as I got the hang of using it. Which, by the way, to any men out there reading this, I have to admit how difficult it is using a dick. So I understood his concerns, and his inability to keep up with what we were doing.

Additionally, between Bella and Riley, my attraction to women has gone significantly through the roof. Every sexy woman, every mildly attractive girl gets my mind going with crazy sexual ideas. I even have a crush on our English teacher who loves to wear tight skirts and button up blouses. And with Bella coming in and out of our sex-capades, I’ve been becoming more and more interested about maybe adding someone else into the mix.

Softball has been going great. Due to our off-the-field chemistry, Riley and I have been dominant on the field. We were named co-captains and though the season hasn’t started, we have gone 6-0 in preseason exhibition matches with schools outside of our district. This was new for me as Florida doesn’t do this. Our school works with others out in Garland, Richardson, Plano, and Allen to help figure out teamplay before the season.I’ve been batting around.362 while Riley has been killing it at.450. She’s averaging at least one home run each game.

My mom has been seeing someone, which she admits, but she’s been keeping it a secret. Everything at home is great though, different. Mom spends more time either in her room or out and about with her new man. All in all, our relationship hasn’t really changed but mom is very happy and that is a big thing for me.

She has always taken care of me and always puts herself second, and though she’s worried about introducing me to him, she is so happy and that has been the final leg for me being comfortable here in Texas.

Which now leads us to today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few weeks have been some of the best of my life.

Riley and I were madly in love and the sex was incredible. I was addicted and found myself having withdrawals, or getting ‘hangry’ like symptoms, on days where we couldn’t get each other off one way or the other.

Meeting in stairwells before and after class. In bathrooms during class. In the locker room shower after practice. At my house after school if we couldn’t get privacy in the locker room showers. In my car after various dates. Hell, I even went down on her under the table at the Cheesecake Factory and she came while the waiter was talking to her.

We were horny teens, plain and simple and to say we have been having fun was a massive understatement.

Bella was also a constant in our lives. However, her boyfriend was getting relatively jealous because we wouldn’t join them for a ‘foursome’, and/or he wasn’t allowed to join us. We almost agreed to have him and Bella in the same room while Riley and I went at it, but ultimately, we didn’t like the idea of him sneaking in where he shouldn’t be.

The best he ever got was a video of all of us going at it like wild animals.

Bella admitted that the first time she used the strap-on with a woman was the same day she used it with us, and she had even bought it that day before.

He wasn’t a fan of us using it because he felt she was having a better time with us than with him. And to be honest, she admitted to us that her orgasms with us were way more intense, especially as I got the hang of using the strap-on. Which, by the way, to any men out there reading this, I have to admit how difficult it is using a dick. So I understood his concerns, and his inability to keep up with what we were ardahan escort doing.

Additionally, between Bella and Riley, my attraction to women has gone significantly through the roof. Every sexy woman, every mildly attractive girl, gets my mind going with crazy sexual ideas.

I even have a crush on our English teacher who loves to wear tight skirts and button-up blouses. And with Bella coming in and out of our sex capades, I’ve been becoming more and more interested in maybe adding someone else into the mix.

Softball has been going great. Due to our off-the-field chemistry, Riley and I have been dominant on the field. We were named co-captains and though the season hasn’t started, we have gone 6-0 in preseason exhibition matches with schools outside of our district.

This was new for me as Florida doesn’t do this. Our school works with others out in Garland, Richardson, Plano, and Allen to help figure out team play before the season. I’ve been batting around.362 while Riley has been killing it at.450. She’s averaging at least one home run each game.

My mom has been seeing someone, which she admits, but she’s been keeping it a secret. Everything at home is great, but different. Mom spends more time either in her room or out and about with her new man. All in all, our relationship hasn’t changed but Mom is very happy and that is a big thing for me.

She has always taken care of me and always puts herself second, and though she’s worried about introducing me to him, she is so happy and that has been the final leg for me being comfortable here in Texas.

Which now leads us to today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mmm…that feels good, mi amor” Riley moaned as she stood naked in front of me in the locker room shower.

I was lathering her up with soap from behind as I reached around her and began flicking her erect nipples.

“Good,” I said softly as I gently, and passionately, kissed the back of her neck, pressing my naked tits against her back.

Riley rested her head on my shoulder as I continued to play with her breasts. Her own hands moved down to her shaved crotch and rubbed her clit lightly.

The longer this shower went on, the more intense it was inevitably going to get. It was guaranteed. The danger was, we weren’t supposed to be doing this and we never knew what the coach was doing, or where she was, at any time.

This also added to the excitement of playing in the shower at school.

I tugged on Riley’s nipples as she let out a guttural moan, before sliding my hands down and replacing Riley’s on her pussy.

She fell back into me as I began to play with her warm and inviting self.

We had become quite skilled in our sexual talents, not to mention how much we had learned about each other, that I knew exactly how to play her body like a fine instrument.

I would flick her clit before rubbing it intensely bringing her to the edge before moving down and inserting two fingers and fucking her savagely. I’d focus on her now regularly visited G-spot before pulling on her sensitive nipples. All of this would usually get her right on the cusp within a matter of minutes.

True to form, she was on edge pretty quickly. I kissed up her neck and tongued her ear as my hands navigated their journey of Riley’s body with very little effort.

I pulled away from her ear and aggressively bit her neck causing Riley to verbally yell out, “Fuck yes, baby, make me cum! “I’m so close!”

Turning her around and pushing her against the wall under the shower head, I pulled her left breast and nipple into my mouth as my fingers reinserted themselves in Riley, attacking her g-spot once more.

She wrapped her leg around my waist and ran her fingers through my hair as she bucked her hips. She was very close and I knew it.

The water of the shower was dripping down and hitting me in the face so much that I turned my head and switched breasts.

Fuck, did I love her tits. They were so perky and soft, and her nipples were this perfect size. I loved playing with them and as time went on, I quickly found out how much of a “boob-woman” I truly was.

I plopped the nipple through my lips and out of my mouth as I let my tongue flick and draw circles around it.

She was putty in my hands. I opened my eyes to look up at her as her orgasm face was realistically the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. When I opened my eyes I was facing the shower entrance and was caught off guard to see Sophia, one of our teammates, watching us.

She wasn’t naked, she wasn’t touching herself, or doing things that would suggest she was enjoying the show. (And to be honest, I have no idea how long she was standing there.) But she was simply watching.

I gave her a smirk to which she visibly felt uncomfortable before I looked up at Riley and pressed down on her G-spot firmly. Riley instantly came and did so loudly, and violently.

“Joder, sí! Me estoy acabando. Perra sucia. Te amo. Joder, sí!” Riley artvin escort yelled out in spanish.

I loved it when she did that. When she’d come so hard that she would revert to her native language.

I kissed up Riley’s chest and looked over at Sophia, who was still watching but slowly turning her body to walk away, and I sensually made out with my girlfriend.

We didn’t have time for Riley to finish me off, and that was fine, as she had to go babysit her brother and I had homework. But I was interested in Sophia, who was no longer in the locker room.

“What do you think about Sophia?” I asked Riley, getting dressed.

“She is okay. She needs to work on the timing of her swing. She swings too fast so she misses a lot.” Riley answered, clasping her bra.

“I know how she is as a player,” I laughed, “I mean what do you think of her?” I asked, emphasizing “think” to get my point across.

Something that I continuously think about was how Bella played a huge impact on me and Riley’s relationship. Me and Riley were on our own way to becoming an official “thing” anyway but it would be a lie to say that Bella didn’t play a huge part in that.

The idea of seducing a teammate, teacher, or someone else for that matter, gets me highly turned on.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You know, do you think she’s pretty?” I asked cautiously.

“She very pretty,” Riley answered with a confused look on her face.

“How do you feel about us bringing her in?” I asked, flipping my T-shirt over my naked breasts.

“You mean like Bella?” She asked, hesitating

“Yeah, like Bella”, I replied.

I’ve never brought up the idea of adding other girls into what we do with Riley before. She can be very dominating. She’s very loyal, almost to a fault, and sometimes gets jealous of what me and Bella do even when she’s in the room with us.

While I’ve previously entertained the fantasy of adding a 4th girl into the mix, the last thing that I’ve ever wanted to do was make Riley mad or hurt her so I haven’t done anything to initiate this. However, seeing Sophia watch us in the shower tonight had my mind reeling.

Riley continued to get dressed while thinking about her reply.

“What do you wanna do?” She asked.

“Well, ya know…maybe seduce her?” I replied softly. “Introduce her to what we do. Have fun with her.” I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, the strap resting between my tits, and sat on the empty bench next to her locker.

Pulling her pants up and over her ass, she picked up her shoes and sat next to me.

“So, am I not enough?” She asked with a slight whimper.

“Oh baby you’re everything! This has nothing to do with you and everything with me being perverted.” I assured her pulling her into hugging me. “I just think about that first time in the shower with Bella and get so turned on that I wanna seduce someone else like that.”

“She wouldn’t be my girlfriend…that will only ever be you. I was more thinking of this person being a plaything for you and me. Maybe Bella too if we decide to share. But if you don’t want to, I’m okay with that as well.” I said looking down at my keys that I was now fiddling with.

She looked up at me from the corner of her eye. “That second shower was pretty hot. But why now? Are you getting bored?” She asked.

“That shower was the hottest…and absolutely not! The only reason I’m bringing up is…well…Sophia was watching us in the shower 15 minutes ago.” I explained before I was interrupted.

“Really! Why didn’t you tell me?” Her tone and energy changed to be more excited.

“I didn’t notice until right before I made you cum. But I did make eye contact with her while making you cum and she didn’t walk away.” I detailed.

“Is just Sophia or anyone else?” Her voice became more confident.

“Maybe just her, or anyone else you like? Jasmine, Lena…Ms. Wallace” I said with an evil grin.

“A teacher!?” She said shocked.

“I mean, have you seen Mrs. Wallace? She’s not that old, she’s probably mid-30s. You can’t tell me you’ve never looked at her and wondered what if.” I joked with her as we stood up on our way out of the locker room.

“She is very pretty. I think I’m OK with it.” Riley said, gripping my hand as we made it to my car.

“With Miss Wallace?” I asked for confirmation.

“Yes, maybe, but I mean with another girl. I also like maybe seduce a girl. It seems exciting.” She said sweetly, her soft voice and broken accent adding to the aura she was giving.

” I love you so much, have I told you that lately?” I asked, feeling my body getting warm from excitement.

“Yes, but you don’t say it enough Mi amor!” She grinned as I opened the door for her and she got in. “I love you too, sexy bitch”

“I love you more puta”, I called out as I closed her door.

We got some Chick-fil-A on our way home before I dropped her off. I had a test I needed to study for and her brother needed babysitting so it bodrum escort wasn’t gonna be as fun an evening as I was hoping. But we had just done it in the shower not an hour ago so that made up for everything.

As I pulled up to my house, my mom’s jeep was in the driveway. Not that this was all that out of the norm but lately she had been going out more now that she was dating. So it really was hit or miss if she’d be home when I got home from school or not.

I parked my car and walked inside, “Mom?”

“In the kitchen, Beck.” She called out in reply.

I made my way into the kitchen and could smell that she was cooking something, but couldn’t put my finger on what. However, it smelled very good and I was starving.

Upon walking into the kitchen, my mom was at the stove with her back turned to me and Bella was sitting at the table wearing a very skimpy dress.

Over the last couple of months, it wasn’t uncommon for Bella to be at our house every other day if not, more often than that. With me there or not. She had actually become very close to our family and I felt she was pretty close with my mom all things considered.

“Hey Bell, what’s up?” I chirped at her, sitting down across from her at the table.

“Me and Jackson broke up.” She said looking vulnerable for the first time since I’ve known her.

“Bell! No! I’m so sorry! That seems so out of the blue what happened?” I asked, genuinely concerned for her.

“I don’t feel like talking about it right now, no offense Dy,” which was Bella’s nickname for my mom. I don’t know why my mom was okay with her saying that because she hated it when my dad did it. But my mom didn’t hate it and seemed quite endeared by it with Bella, so she went with it.

“No worries, love. I’m so sorry that you’re having a hard day. I’m just happy if I can help you at all.” My mom said, smiling at her over her shoulder before turning back to the food.

“You’re the best,” Bella replied.

“Well, Mom, how long before dinner is ready?” I asked standing up from the table.

“Maybe another 10 or 15 minutes.” She answered back.

“Do you wanna go upstairs and talk about it real quick?” I asked Bella.

“Sure, if your mom doesn’t mind being alone for a little bit,” Bella responded, looking over at my mom.

My mom just looked back at her and winked, and Bella smiled. She got up from the table and followed me upstairs.

We got into my room and I closed the door, walked over to my computer, and turned on some music so that at least it didn’t have to be a really quiet room.

“So what happened?” I asked, sitting at the foot of my bed.

“Well, I guess lately he’s been feeling a little bit self-conscious about what I do with you and Riley. And he asked me to be honest about how I felt and if I enjoyed the sex with you girls more than him.” She flopped onto her back on the bed behind me. “I may be a bitch and I may be a slut, but I’m proud of how I’m always honest. So I told him the truth.”

“And…” I said after she froze for a little bit.

“I told him that I loved his cock and how it felt inside me but sex with you and Riley was so intense and so amazing that I often masturbated about it. He also didn’t know that I was being fucked by the strap-on as much as I have been. He thought I was just using it to fuck you.” She explained, staring at the ceiling.

“And I guess he just couldn’t handle it and told me that he needed some time to think about it. But, then two hours went by and I got the text telling me he just didn’t think this was gonna work anymore.” Her voice became softer and full of pain.

“Damn, babe I’m so sorry! It is legitimately our fault.” I felt truly guilty.

“No. It is mine because I wanted this and I came here looking for it. Plus, fuck his weak confidence.” She reassured me.

I laughed. “Think it would have been different if he was allowed to join in?”

“Absolutely. 100%. He thought you both were very hot, especially you. He loves blondes. But you said no and that isn’t a mistake. He didn’t like being told no and that is his problem.” She laughed, turning to look at me.

“Thanks for that but still I’m so sorry.” I put my hand out to hers.

“It is his loss. Guaranteed I’ll be the best pussy he gets for a long time, if not ever.” She laughed.

“Damn straight! Any new men you are looking at?” I said trying to get her pumped for being single.

“Eh, not really, this just happened today. But I am sorta seeing someone but not dating. It’s just someone I’ve been messing around with for a while. Jackson didn’t know about her either so I did feel guilty about this.” Bella made eye contact with me knowing the barrage of questions I had was going to come flying.

“What! Not only did you never tell us but you never brought her over? What the fuck Bell!” I whined.

“Hey! To be fair I want you two to myself!” She laughed. “But I seduced her, she had never been with a woman before so she was a bit nervous about anyone knowing. She may go to Leigh’s Halloween party next week, though. By the way, are you going to that?” She asked looking back up at the ceiling.

“Party? No, I wasn’t invited. Leigh and I aren’t close. We don’t hate each other but I wouldn’t say we are friends either.” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Luisa

The faint hum of the engines provided the soundtrack for Luisa as she leaned back in the wide leather seat, her bare feet nestling into the soft wool of the blanket the flight attendant had given her.

It wasn’t her first time flying business class, but it was her first time doing it long haul and Luisa had settled into it as if she belonged there. She turned her head slightly and watched Amy beside her, bathed in the soft overhead light, reading something on her tablet, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Luisa’s stomach fluttered as there was a small jolt, a one off, nothing major, just a little turbulence. But, Luisa thought, it had been there before, every time she thought about Amy.

For a moment she just studied her. Amy’s brown hair was tied back loosely, as it often was when she wanted to look casual but somehow ended up stunning anyway. She was dressed down in yoga leggings and a hoodie, but there was an elegance and comfortable self-possession about her even like that… legs folded under her, eyes focused, occasionally chewing on her lower lip as she read.

Luisa’s fingers itched to reach out, to trace that jawline, to kiss those lips. God, she was in love. Stupidly, breathlessly in love.

And it scared the hell out of her.

Amy glanced over then, as if sensing the attention. Their eyes met, and the smile Amy gave her was soft, warm… intimate. The smile of someone who loved her too.

“You’re staring,” Amy said, sliding one earbud out. Her voice was quiet, for Luisa alone.

“You’re beautiful,” Luisa replied, smiling back.

Amy’s smile widened just a little to almost a grin. “Careful,” she teased, “flattery makes me dangerous.”

Luisa laughed quietly, trying not to draw attention. Their flight was nearly empty, a mid-week flight from LA to London, and there were only six other passengers in the business class cabin, all of whom seemed to be asleep. The lights were dimmed and, if they were sensible, Amy and Luisa should be getting some sleep too.

They’d got a pair of seats next to each other, designed for couples travelling together, and with the divider down they were as good as sat in one giant seat, a perfect arrangement for them.

Amy reached out under the blanket between them and squeezed Luisa’s knee, and Luisa’s heart jumped. Amy just seemed to be able to do that to her, there was something almost intoxicating about her.

They’d been inseparable for three weeks in LA. Days spent over the weekends swimming, hiking, laughing at nothing. Nights spent out and then tangled together, mouths, hands, bodies hungry and sated, and hungry again. The only thing that had come between them was work, Amy needing to go to her office most days, Luisa doing a couple of photoshoots where she’d had to stay away for a few nights.

They’d told each other that they were in love, and they meant it. At least Luisa knew that she did… she loved Amy like she’d never loved anyone before.

But there was an undercurrent. Something unspoken. Something about this not being real life, a worry for Luisa that she was Amy’s holiday fling, her rebound from splitting with her boyfriend, one of several alongside this person Sarah that she knew Amy had been seeing but rarely talked about and God knew who else.

Except Luisa wanted it to be real, with every fibre of her being.

Amy squeezed her knee again. “You’re thinking too much,” she said softly. “I can tell.”

“You’re not thinking enough,” Luisa shot back, teasing.

Amy raised an eyebrow. “Am I not?”

And there was the game again, the little power play between them, the one Luisa lost willingly every time. Suspension of reality one day at a time, avoiding a conversation of what would make them real, a true relationship.

Ok, thought Luisa, time to play the game.

“Come here,” Luisa said quietly.

Amy’s brow furrowed, but she leaned closer, their heads nearly touching.

“What?” Amy whispered, smiling but wary.

“The lavatory,” Luisa whispered back, feeling wicked and reckless and loving it. “The big one at the front. Five minutes.”

Amy’s smile took on a hungry edge. “You’re serious?”

Luisa shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Unless you’ve lost your nerve.”

“I never had any nerve,” Amy whispered with a quick kiss on Luisa’s cheek, but she was already unfastening her seatbelt. “You’re the reckless one.”

Luisa sat there a moment longer after Amy left, letting the tension build. She knew how to make an entrance. After three minutes by her watch, no four, to make Amy wait she rose, stretching casually as if she were going for a walk. No one paid her any attention as she strolled toward the front of the cabin.

The door opened almost instantly when she knocked, and Amy pulled her in by the front of her hoodie. The door clicked shut behind them and Amy locked it.

Luisa pushed Amy back against the wall, her hands already sliding under Amy’s hoodie, cold fingers meeting hot skin. Amy’s breath caught.

“You’re trouble,” Amy said quietly, grabbing Luisa’s hips.

“It afyon escort takes two,” Luisa said, and kissed her.

It was messy, desperate. Luisa didn’t care. Her hands found Amy’s breasts, pushing her bra up, her fingers teasing her nipples until she felt Amy moan into her mouth. Amy’s own hands had found Luisa’s ass and were squeezing hard.

“This was your idea,” Amy whispered against her ear. “You’d better not half finish it.”

Luisa laughed. “Shut up.”

And then she was on her knees, Amy’s yoga leggings and underwear tugged down just enough.

They were quick, but not quiet. As she got close, Luisa took hold of Amy’s hand and held it against Amy’s mouth, Amy moaning hard into it as her orgasm rolled through her, Amy’s other hand holding on to Luisa’s head, almost pulling her into Amy.

After a few moments, Amy helped her up and wiped Luisa’s mouth clean of her wetness before kissing her slowly and passionately. “You’re amazing,” Amy said quietly.

Luisa’s heart skipped, stuttered, then raced. “I know,” Luisa replied, and she kissed her again before she could say anything more.

When they finally left the bathroom, they surprised one of the flight attendants who was passing, who flashed them a knowing grin before going back to her work.

They settled back in their seats, half reclined, cuddled up to each other as far as the seatbelts would allow, but after a few minutes got a surprise… the same flight attendant leaning over them.

Worried they were in trouble, Luisa relaxed when the flight attendant set down two glasses of champagne.

“Oh, we didn’t order these,” said Amy.

“You didn’t need to,” replied the flight attendant with a wink. “But I figured you’d want them.”

Luisa felt herself blushing, and her and Amy sat there giggling, enjoying their surprise drinks, more in love with each other at that moment than ever.

Several hours later Luisa lay awake, the lights still dim, everyone else in the cabin asleep. Looking to her side she could see Amy deep asleep herself, her chest rising and falling slowly.

As she so often did when she couldn’t sleep, she let her mind wander… and right then the only thing she could think about was Amy, and what their future held.

She loved Amy, without a doubt, and she could tell that when Amy told her she loved her too that she meant it. But… there were so many obstacles, so many things that could get in the way.

Distance, first of all. They lived 5,000 miles apart and while so far they’d made it work to see each other, Amy visiting LA twice so far as part of her work and now Luisa flying back to London with her to stay for a few days enroute to a modelling job in Italy, Luisa was enough of a realist to know that at some point the good luck with travel would stop and one or both of them would have a hard decision to make. Possibly a very hard, life changing decision.

But then, possibly more significant, was other people. Important other people in each of their lives. When they’d first met Amy was in a long term relationship with her then boyfriend James while also in a more transactional, secret relationship with a senior partner at her work, Sarah. If she was being brutal about it, Luisa had started seeing Amy in secret when Amy was already having an affair with someone else… not exactly a recipe for a long and healthy relationship built on an easy foundation of trust when put like that, particularly at long distance.

When they’d parted at the airport for Amy to fly back home that first time she could see Amy wavering, on the verge of her saying thank you for my holiday fling, this was nice, but I won’t see you again. What else was she going to do when she had a long term boyfriend back home, not to mention Sarah?

Luisa, almost in desperation, had acted pre-emptively before Amy could go down that path, suggesting an open relationship between them, anything to keep that door open. It was presented by Luisa as a practical accommodation but in reality reflected her desperation to do anything not to lose Amy, not so soon after Luisa had found her.

Amy had seemed relieved, grateful for the permission to keep her relationships without having to make painful choices. But what Luisa had carefully omitted from all their subsequent conversations was that the openness wasn’t just for Amy’s benefit… it was for her own too.

What would Amy think if she knew the whole truth? That Luisa’s love life had been carefully compartmentalised for the last eight years, inextricably interwoven with her professional existence since her modelling career had taken off at the age of 18. The question circled again and again in Luisa’s mind as she watched Amy sleeping peacefully next to her.

One name stood out above all others… Alethea, the one constant in Luisa’s ever changing career taking her from a callow 18 year old model on her first big shoot in Tulum through to the experienced, 26 year old fashion professional that was lying there next to Amy, trying to get some sleep.

Alethea… aydın escort Luisa’s Greek goddess, and her kryptonite.

Just days before first meeting Amy, Luisa had been in Miami with Alethea on a shoot. For two nights, they had fallen into their familiar pattern, the magnetic pull between them as powerful as it had been in Tulum eight years before. It was always like this with Alethea… inevitable, electric, beyond her power to resist.

They never planned these encounters, they simply occurred whenever their paths crossed on shoots, an unspoken certainty as reliable as gravity. It could be next week or next year before they found themselves in the same city again, but Luisa knew with absolute certainty that when they did, she would end up in Alethea’s bed.

How could Amy possibly comprehend this when Luisa herself struggled to define it? That Alethea wasn’t simply an ex or an occasional lover, not really a friend either, but a constant, maybe a colleague who just understood Luisa was the closest way to describe her, who had been in and out of her life for eight years. That their encounters weren’t planned but inevitable, a gravitational pull Luisa had never been able to resist and, honestly, had never wanted to. That between encounters there was nothing, it was as if Alethea disappeared, only to reappear whenever they were next booked together for work.

Luisa was terrified to tell Amy about Alethea, worried that it would scare Amy away, but at the same time knew that she must, if not immediately then certainly before she next worked with Alethea and the inevitable happened again. Alethea was kind of Luisa’s version of Amy’s Sarah, a significant other person in her life even though the timescales and involvement were very different.

And Alethea was just one compartment among many. How could she explain the strategic calculations that had occasionally led her to powerful industry figures, usually men, whose favour could accelerate her career? That she had approached these encounters and even quasi-relationships with a clear eyed assessment of the potential benefits, maintaining her agency while using every asset available to her? That while such situations had become less frequent as her own industry standing grew, she knew deep down that they could and would happen again?

Perhaps worst of all, how could Luisa admit that Amy was her first personal relationship in eight years? That every relationship she had formed since leaving behind her home city of Aguascalientes and her high school boyfriend as an inexperienced 18 year old had been, in some way, entangled with and in the service of furthering her career?

The self-admission felt humiliating that she, at twenty six, had no idea how to navigate a relationship untethered from professional advantage, that she was terrified of her inadequacy in something where most people had been gaining experience since adolescence.

When, not even two weeks before, Luisa had told Amy that she loved her, and Amy had told her the same, it should have been a moment for Luisa of pure joy… the first person in her life that she could honestly say, hand on heart, that she was truly in love with.

Instead, it had triggered a cascade of anxiety in Luisa. Amy was choosing her, had finished with her boyfriend James, was creating space in her life where Luisa would be central rather than peripheral.

The implicit expectation terrified her… not because she didn’t want it, but because she wanted it too much, wanted it with an intensity that threatened the careful control she had kept over her compartmentalised existence.

Just at that moment, Amy’s fingers curled around Luisa’s under the blanket as she turned in her sleep, warm and sure, and Luisa squeezed back. Luisa was acutely aware of the emotion that swelled within her at Amy’s touch, at her vulnerability.

This was what frightened her most about sharing the truth… not the potential judgment, but the possibility that complete honesty might shatter something precious before it had fully formed.

Yet the alternative, offering Amy only the carefully edited version of herself, felt increasingly impossible. Not just because the logistics would become more challenging as their lives became more and more entwined, but because Luisa found herself wanting, with unprecedented intensity, to be known completely by this woman who had somehow slipped past all her defences.

Perhaps tomorrow in London, or the next day, or when she stopped back in London after Italy to see Amy again, she would find the courage to begin dismantling the walls between her separate selves, to open up to Amy and to hope that she understood.

But that was for another time. Because right then, that touch, the feel of the woman she loved, that was enough.

More than enough, it was everything.

Amy

Amy looked up at the house and tried, in the gathering dark, the rain threatening to fall again, to hide her slight grimace. It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to moving into her best ağrı escort friend Naomi’s house share, not really, but after the long flight from LA what she would have ideally liked was to be back at her old flat, the one she’d lived in for years, with all her things, with privacy, everything set up just as she liked it.

She’d have loved to show it to Luisa, watch the expression on Luisa’s face as she admired some of the furniture, or the décor, or anything. She’d have loved that.

But they weren’t there, they were here. Part of her deal with James after she’d split up with him getting on nearly a month before was that he’d stay in the flat, at least for the six months where they were nominally in a trial separation… in reality it was over between them, Amy knew that even if James might not.

She turned to Luisa and gave her hand a little squeeze. “We’re here,” she said with a smile that she suspected betrayed her thoughts.

The taxi driver put the last of their bags on the pavement and left. Amy could see some lights on in the house visible through the large sash windows.

“You ready to meet one of my best friends?” asked Amy.

Luisa smiled reassuringly. “Better… I’m excited to.”

Amy smiled back and stepped up, about to ring the doorbell, when the front door opened on its own, a voice called out, “Amy!” and she found herself enveloped in a big hug.

Luisa stood patiently, and Naomi said, “And you must be Luisa,” before wrapping her up in a big hug too. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!”

Stood just behind her, Amy was smiling happily. “As you might have guessed, this is Naomi. Naomi, meet Luisa.” She paused and laughed. “Though I think I’m a little late to say that.”

As they stood there a few heavy drops of rain started to fall. “Come on, let’s get inside,” said Naomi, picking up Luisa’s bag and ushering both her and Amy into the hall.

A few minutes later Amy and Luisa were alone again in Amy’s new room. Looking around it was nicer than Amy had expected, at the back of the house on the top floor, its own small shower room off to one side, a large double bed, a couple of comfy chairs, a wardrobe and chest of drawers. There were three lamps placed around the room which gave a nice glow, and with the warmth from the radiator it felt cosy, particularly with the noise of the rain against the sash window at one end. Naomi had bought pillows and a duvet with covers for the bed, enough to get on with, but the room still felt like it needed Amy’s possessions to really feel like home.

“Home sweet home,” said Amy, with a smile. “Are you ok? You seem quiet.”

Luisa smiled back and walked over to Amy, putting her arms around her. “More than ok, I’m so happy to see your life. Even if you’ve just moved in here. It’s just London… it’s all so different to what I’m used to. A lot to take in.”

Amy put her arms around Luisa too and kissed her. “That makes perfect sense. I love you so, so, so much. Thank you for coming back here with me.”

“I love you too… there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She kissed Amy again, and they held each other tightly, both tired as much as anything from the travel.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Naomi came in with two mugs of tea, handing one to each of them.

“This’ll sort you out,” she said with a kind smile. “Luisa, I didn’t know how you take your tea so I went with milk and no sugar, just like Amy and I take it. I hope that’s ok?”

Luisa smiled gratefully. “To be honest, I’ve never had tea before. So that sounds perfect. Thank you.”

She took a sip while both Amy and Naomi watched her. “Mmm… that’s perfect,” she said. Amy could tell that she was lying, but felt her love for Luisa swell at her lying about it to be so kind to Naomi, who had a beaming smile on her face.

They’d landed on the Thursday, and Amy and Luisa were kind to themselves for the next 36 hours, taking it easy to get through their jet lag and not venturing far from exploring Amy’s new neighbourhood, albeit a neighbourhood that she’d lived in a few years before prior to her moving in with James. There was none of the urgency to connect with each other that there had been when Amy had arrived in LA, this really feeling like a continuation of their adventure together, so they could just relax in each other’s company with Amy safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t expected back in the office until Monday.

Amy could tell that Luisa loved it. Every single minute. Everything was so new to her, so different to either LA or back in Mexico. Even wrapping up in her newly bought coat and scarf for an early morning walk together around Clapham Common, stopping for coffee on the way, her excitement was palpable… for Amy it made her yearn for Luisa to live in London, but she didn’t say anything out loud.

On the Friday night Naomi had organised a welcome to the house dinner out nearby for Amy with her new housemates, two other women besides Naomi and one man. All were good company, were friendly, and had no problem whatsoever that Luisa had tagged along, in fact two of the housemates brought their partners along too. Amy had felt a little nervous turning up at her new house share with a girlfriend alongside her, but everyone was so welcoming that there was nothing for her to worry about really.

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

Chapter 1

Wendy bustled between the kitchen and dining room. She hurried to add spices to the saucepan, set the table, and keep a careful eye on the clock.

Her daughter was coming home from college, and the thought put a pep in Wendy’s step. It was finally winter break, and she would get a solid week to dote on her daughter, just like old times. However, little did she know the chaos the evening would bring.

“That should do it.” Wendy gave a satisfied hum, and she turned the stovetop down to a simmer.

The smell of tomato sauce filled the air, and her stomach growled. However, she would have to wait. It was only one o’clock, and even if her daughter arrived now, it would still be a few more hours until dinnertime.

(I should grab some parmesan from the cellar fridge.) Wendy thought to herself. The upstairs kitchen was running low on the cheese topping, and Beth always used a little extra.

She began heading towards the stairs to the basement, but as she did, a knock came at the door.

“Mom! I’m home…” Three soft knocks came at the front door, and it opened.

“Beth!” Wendy paused mid step and rushed to the door, grabbing it as it opened and yanking it wide. “You’re back!”

Beth had blonde hair, and wide hips. Her figure seemed more mature every year, and the sight made it difficult to think of her as a baby anymore, but Wendy still smiled at the sight, and she stepped forward, embracing her daughter in a hug.

“I’m glad you made it home safely.” Wendy said, squeezing her tight in the embrace, and Beth nodded into her shoulder.

“It’s good to be back, mom.” They stood together, hugging for several long seconds, but then an awkward cough interrupted their embrace.

“Ahem.” Another girl stood next to Beth, and Wendy blinked in surprise.

“Who is this, Beth? A friend?” Wendy stepped back and turned to her daughter, then the stranger. The other girl had long dark hair, a mole under one eye, and she appeared to be the same age as Beth.

“Yes. Mom, meet Jasmine. She’s a… friend.” Beth averted her gaze. ” I met her in History 135.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Wistlowe.” Jasmine stepped forward and offered her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too! What a little cutie, you are.” Wendy took Jasmine’s hand, smiling. “I can’t believe you never mentioned her to me, Beth.”

“We met at the beginning of the semester.” Beth’s ears grew bright red as she spoke, and she kept her gaze trained on the ground.

“I see…” Wendy tilted her head at her daughter’s strange behavior, but she pushed it out of her mind. “Well, if you’re a friend of Beth’s you’re more than welcome here. Won’t you stay for dinner? I can even prepare the guest bedroom.”

“I’d be delighted, thank you.” Jasmine’s smile broadened, and she stepped forward. Lightly, she placed one hand on her shoulder.

Wendy was wearing just a red camisole top, and the girl’s fingers brushed over the side of her bare arm. Her eyes widened at the contact, but she didn’t move to step away. Instead, she found herself transfixed in Jasmine’s intense gaze.

“Your skin is so soft, Ms. Wistlowe. Do you moisturize?”

“You can tell?” Wendy smiled, but Jasmine continued to stare at her. Her brown eyes gazed into Wendy’s without a hint of hesitation or blinking. Instead, her fingers continued to rub at Wendy’s shoulder.

(She’s quite friendly, huh?) Wendy thought to herself, but Beth stepped forward

“Please don’t, Jaz.” She tugged at the edge of Jasmine’s jacket, and a hint of a whine entered her voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I can get a bit carried away.” Jasmine took a step back, breaking the physical contact between them. “I hope I didn’t offend you, Ms. Wistlowe.”

“Offend me?” Wendy just tilted her head, confused.

“See, Beth?” Jasmine wrapped an arm around Beth’s shoulders and smiled. “Nothing to worry about.”

The way she clung to her daughter, Wendy thought Jasmine looked almost like a playboy, grinning at Beth with a knowing smile. However, it must have been her imagination. They were both women, after all.

(Those two must be good friends… I’m glad Beth found someone she can connect with.)

Her daughter looked embarrassed, and a deep red blush filled her cheeks, even reaching up to her ears, but it took a good friend to embarrass you like that. At the very least, Wendy could tell they weren’t strangers.

“Why don’t you two come inside. Dinner is at four, but why don’t you relax until then? Your room is just as you left it, Beth.”

“Thanks mom…” Beth stepped inside, followed by Jasmine who kept a tight grip on her shoulder.

“Yes, why don’t we go relax. It was a long journey, after all,” Jasmine said and gave Beth’s shoulder a squeeze.

Wendy watched them go with a tilted head. However, as they headed up the stairs, she blinked and shook her head. (I gotta go get that parmesan.)

Chapter 2

Beth’s heart pounded in her ears. As she stepped inside her room, Jasmine followed adana escort in behind her, and she closed the door, sealing them both inside.

“Ah, it’s good to relax.” Jasmine pulled off her short denim jacket and tossed it aside. “Your mom looked nice.”

“Jaz…” Beth turned around slowly. “Please don’t do anything weird to her.”

“What are you accusing me of?” Jasmine smiled and sauntered closer. “Do you think I’d just fuck everything that breathes?”

“I didn’t mean it like that…” Beth shook her head and took a shaky breath. However, it just brought in the smell of Jasmine’s flowery perfume, and her head spun. The scent was seared into her memories, and just the smell of it caused her nipples to stiffen inside her bra.

“You’re not wrong, though.” Jaz stepped forward, coming face to face with Beth. “If I had the opportunity, I’d totally fuck your mom.”

“Jaz- Ah!” Beth tried to protest, but Jasmine pushed her back, causing Beth to fall back on the bed behind her.

“It’s funny, Beth. You don’t normally get this flustered.” Jasmine crawled on top of her, straddling Beth’s hips. “Does the thought of me and your mom turn you on that much?”

“No way!” Beth raised her voice, but Jasmine just shook her head.

“I know you too well, Beth. You’re nothing more than a repressed ball of nerves.” Jasmine pulled off her shirt, tossing it aside and revealing her small pair of tits.

Despite the difference in size between her and Jasmine, Beth couldn’t help but stare. There was something so delicate and sensual about Jasmine’s body. The sight of it made her thoughts melt away, and she went silent.

“You’re too easy to read.” Jasmine stared down at her with a smirk and rubbed her breasts. “I could tell since we first met, deep down, you’re even kinkier than me.”

“I’m not…” Beth shook her head, but a whine entered her voice. Despite herself, she couldn’t take her eyes off Jasmine’s bare upper half, and a deep blush burned through her cheeks.

“Really? So, if I cornered your mom in the hall, and I fingered her up against a wall, you wouldn’t get turned on? This blush in your cheeks has nothing to do with us doing this in your old bed?”

Jasmine lowered one hand down, and she rubbed against the crotch of her jeans, stroking her mons through the thick denim.

Even through her pants, Beth felt Jasmine’s fingers distinctly. They formed familiar motions, rubbing against the apex of her sex in tight circles. Despite the embarrassment burning through her cheeks, a tingle of satisfaction ran out from beneath Jasmine’s fingers, and Beth rocked her hips back against the touch.

“I bet your mom’s just like you, sexually frustrated from years of abstinence.” Jasmine shifted her weight and she pushed one leg between Beth’s. With her knee, she grinded against the apex of Beth’s jeans, grinding over her sex from the outside of her pants.

“Please Jaz…” Beth looked up at her and bit her lower lip. “I can’t take this teasing any longer.”

“Fine… Just keep your voice down. You don’t want your mom to hear right? Or maybe you’re into that?” Jasmine smiled and unbuttoned the front of Beth’s jeans, exposing a black pair of lace panties.

(Ah, I don’t know any more. Is she joking? Is she not?) Beth’s head swam with arousal, but she could never get a good read on Jasmine.

Only a few months prior, she could have never imagined herself with another woman. However, ever since she’d met her, Beth’s world seemed to have turned upside down. A strange heat burned through her body when Jasmine was near, and the only way to relieve it was her tongue between her legs.

(I’m sorry, mom. Your daughter has strayed from the path of god.)

Chapter 3

“It’s time for dinner!” Wendy climbed up the stairs, heading to her daughter’s room. “I cooked up a couple extra servings for your friend.”

(I gotta make sure Jasmine eats well tonight. Need to put some meat on that girl’s bones.)

Wendy couldn’t get the sight of her out of her mind. They had only met briefly, but the girl looked like she could get blown away from a strong wind. If Wendy wrapped her arms around her, she could smother Jasmine’s face in her chest alone.

(And yet… When I shook her hand, she didn’t seem frail at all.) Her hand shake had been firm, and Wendy could still remember how she had stepped forward into it, placing one hand on her shoulder. There had been something ‘electric’ to her touch back then, and Wendy could still feel the shorter girl’s fingers against her shoulder, rubbing lightly over her skin.

“Did you hear me? Dinners ready.” Wendy came to a stop outside Beth’s room, but there was no response. Instead, she heard a strange ‘wet’ sound, like someone was sucking on hard candy.

(Are they eating snacks, I wonder?)

Wendy would have normally knocked on Beth’s door. She was a grown woman after all, she shouldn’t intrude carelessly. However, she was with a friend today, so it ought to have been ankara escort safe.

Without calling out again, Wendy cracked open the door and peeked inside.

Beth laid on her bed, facing away from the door. Jasmine lay on the bed as well, but she wasn’t beside her daughter. Instead, Beth’s friend lay between her legs, face buried in her daughter’s crotch. The wet slurping noises were coming from Jasmine’s mouth.

(Why isn’t Beth wearing pants? No, why is Jasmine not wearing a shirt? No, why are they in that position?) Wendy’s thoughts spun in turmoil and she took a step back. However, things only got worse.

Jasmine looked up, pulling her face away. She grinned back at her, lips glistening with wetness. The sight was sickening, yet Wendy couldn’t look away.

Her heart raced, and blood rushed to her cheeks. As she stared into Jasmine’s confident gaze, her knees trembled, and she took another step back. It felt like all the strength had disappeared from her limbs.

“Shh…” Jasmine raised a finger to her lips and motioned towards the head of the bed.

Beth wore a pair of headphones, and her eyes were closed. She didn’t seem aware of Wendy’s presence, but all the more because of that, the situation grew even worse.

She grabbed Jasmine’s head, pulling her back between her legs. As Wendy watched, her daughter invited Jasmine’s tongue between her legs, and she gave a soft sigh as the other woman resumed her licking.

(This can’t be happening…) Wendy stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly. (Why… Why is Beth in bed with another woman!?)

Wendy rushed down the hall and stepped inside her room. Not thinking to even close her door, she rushed in and grabbed a cross from her dresser.

(Oh God, please deliver my daughter from sin. She knows not her actions, for her heart is clouded by the darkness of this world. Guide her back to your light, deliver her from sin, oh God!)

Wendy clenched the cross in her hands and prayed silently in her head. It was a prayer she knew well, but she never thought she would use it for her daughter.

(Grant her the strength to resist temptation and the wisdom to see the truth. Deliver her from sin, grant her redemption, oh God!)

She shook her head, clenching her eyes shut as she prayed, but nothing seemed to erase the image from her mind. Despite her fervent prayers, she could still see Jasmine’s amused gaze, staring at her. She could still remember Beth’s parted lips as Jasmine’s tongue descended between her legs.

A blush rose to Wendy’s cheeks, and her heart beat a little faster. Despite the sinful memories, a strange heat built between her legs. She reflexively clenched her legs, and a tingle of satisfaction ran through her womanhood.

(What is this..? Am I getting turned on? No way.)

Wendy began reciting a fresh prayer in her head, chanting words under her breath. However, no matter how much she prayed for her own salvation, the strange heat in her body continued to grow.

The sight of Jasmine’s eyes, her touch when they shook hands, the arm wrapped around her daughter’s shoulder. It all felt so wrong, yet the flushed, embarrassed heat in her cheeks continued to grow, and her nipples stiffened, pushing out her bra.

(Something must be wrong with me… Oh God, please give me strength.)

“Ms. Wistlowe?” A knock came at the door, and a pair of light footsteps entered Wendy’s room.

“Who is it!?” Wendy looked up with wide eyes, and her heart sank at the sight of Jasmine approaching her.

She sat on the bed, still gripping the cross in her hands. Her thighs were clenched tight together, and a deep blush filled her cheeks. Despite the manic praying, her breathing still came heavy, and she couldn’t shake the smothering heat between her legs.

“I’m sorry you had to walk in on us like that.” Jasmine gave an apologetic smile as she approached, but Wendy shook her head.

“Stay away.” Wendy raised the cross, holding it like a shield in front of herself. “I don’t know what you did to Beth, but you aren’t welcome here. Those sinful acts go against God’s will.”

Jasmine paused at the sight of the cross, but her gaze didn’t falter.

“Ms. Wistlowe, I’m not sure how much you know about Beth, but she has never been into men.” She gave a small smile. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but surely you noticed the signs, right? That she’s a lesbian.”

“The signs..?” Wendy shook her head. “No, my Beth would never do such sinful acts on her own. You forced her to-“

“When was her last boyfriend?” Jasmine stepped around the end of the bed, and she leaned against the dresser opposite of Wendy. “Has she ever kissed a man before?”

“She was saving herself for marriage.” Wendy shook her head. “Beth’s a good girl.”

Wendy’s hand trembled as she gripped the cross. However, as much as she wished to deny it, her words felt hollow. It had felt like a dream come true when Beth showed no interest in boys, but this was the adıyaman escort result.

(I’ve failed my daughter. If I had pushed her to get a boyfriend, or if I talked more openly about sex, maybe it wouldn’t have turned out like this. Oh God, I’m sorry to have failed you.)

Wendy lowered her eyes, staring at the ground. Her thoughts churned, and she desperately wished to blame the girl in front of her for Beth’s sins, but she knew that wasn’t fair. She had seen her daughter take Jasmine’s head in her hands, pulling the other woman’s face between her legs.

(I can only blame myself for this… I should have taken Beth to church more.)

“Ms. Wistlowe,” Jasmine stepped forward and sat down next to her. “I’m sure this is all very confusing.”

“No, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” Wendy shook her head. “The world is changing, I know that. I just wish… I wish it didn’t have to be Beth.”

“It’s scary, I know.” Jasmine reached around and squeezed Wendy’s shoulder. “The sight of us together must have been quite shocking.”

“It was…” Wendy nodded, and a fresh blush of embarrassment washed through her cheeks as she remembered walking in on them. That was the last thing she expected to see on a day like this.

“It left you quite flustered, didn’t it?” Jasmine lowered her hand, rubbing Wendy’s back. “That’s only natural, you know?”

“I…” Wendy trailed off as Jasmine’s fingers traced over her back. They trailed up and down over her shoulder blade, rubbing insistently at the back of her camisole. “Yes, I got quite flustered…”

Even now, her heart pounded in her chest, and she struggled to breathe. The flushing heat in her cheeks refused to go away, and the feeling of her stiffening nipples inside her bra was very distracting.

“Have you ever considered dating another woman, Ms. Wistlowe?” Jasmine smiled and shifted closer, pressing into Wendy’s side.

“No, of course not. I have a husband… Well, I had a husband.” Wendy shook her head, and she tried to lean away. Jasmine was so close all of a sudden, she didn’t even remember her sitting down next to her, but now she was close enough for Wendy to feel the warmth of her body.

Jasmine wasn’t wearing her jacket anymore, and her low cut shirt didn’t have any sleeves. From where she sat next to Wendy, her shoulders were fully exposed, and even her smooth armpits were visible.

Perhaps it was deodorant, or even perfume, but Wendy realized a faint floral scent clung on the girl. It was light and airy, yet overpoweringly strong. The smell filled Wendy’s nostrils, and she felt it on her tongue with each breath.

“What about before getting married? You never looked at another woman before?” Jasmine’s fingers traced lower, rubbing at the strap of Wendy’s bra. “It’s said women are the best at appreciating the female form.”

Wendy’s heart pounded in her ears, and she licked her dry lips. This was her home and her bedroom, yet she somehow felt trapped next to Jasmine. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from those knowing brown eyes, and she felt herself falling into the girl’s gaze.

“I… I would never look at another woman like that.” Wendy answered out of instinct, but the minute she said the words, she realized it wasn’t the full truth. (There was that one time, but that doesn’t count…)

Wendy averted her gaze, looking out the window opposite her bed, but like a shark smelling blood in the water, Jasmine leaned even closer.

“Lying is a sin too, Ms. Wistlowe.” She whispered the words in her ear, and the hairs on the back of Wendy’s neck rose.

“I didn’t lie. I have no interest in women. That’s not natural. I…” Wendy looked back and trailed off as she found Jasmine’s face inches from her own. The girl’s mouth hovered a hairsbreadth away, so close Wendy could feel her breath against her lips.

“Sorry, did I surprise you?” Jasmine leaned back, smiling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, that’s quite alright.” Wendy shook her head and took a deep breath. “There was one time I found an old playboy magazine. I will admit, I flipped through it out of curiosity, but I threw it away after.”

“Really…” Jasmine resumed the massage on Wendy’s back, rubbing up and down over her shirt. “Which was your favorite picture? Or were you reading it for the articles?”

“There’s no way I would like those pictures!” Wendy shook her head indignantly. “I threw it away without reading a word of that devil’s magazine.”

“Really? There must have been one photograph you remember from it, right?” Jasmine leaned a few inches closer, and her hand trailed further down with each lazy rub on Wendy’s back, reaching down to the small cusp just above the hem of her jeans. “Remember, lying is a sin, Ms. Wistlowe.”

“I…” Wendy gave a dry swallow and looked away once more. “I did my best to forget those images.”

“Yet you couldn’t do it, could you?” Jasmine lowered her voice to a whisper, and her breath tickled Wendy’s ear. “The more you try to forget, the more you remember. What was it that you couldn’t get out of your mind, Ms. Wistlowe? Tell me.”

“Ah…” Wendy’s back arched, and she took a sharp breath as Jasmine’s breath hit the back of her neck. (No, this conversation is going too far. I have to tell her to leave…)

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

Dear reader,

I’m originally from the Netherlands. I first wrote these stories in Dutch and first published them on a Dutch erotic story site a few years ago. Based on the feedback there, I made some changes. But honestly, the real challenge, and fun, came when I decided to rewrite them in English. Somehow, I find it easier to express myself in English, even though it’s not my native language.

It’s a mix, really. I’m not always sure how “standard” my English is. It’s shaped by TV shows, stories on Literotica, school lessons, and conversations with people from all over. So it’s a bit of everything. I do my best to keep it clear and understandable. If you’re picky about perfect English, just know this might sound a little different than you expect.

You’ll probably stumble over some Dutch words or names I didn’t fully translate. Trying to change everything to fit some neat international mold just didn’t feel right. But I don’t think it makes the stories harder to follow. What matters is the feeling, not whether you know the name of a street or a town.

Most of my stories are loosely autobiographical. I tagged this one as lesbian because that’s the path it mostly takes. But there’s straight sex in there too. Because it happened. Because it’s part of the journey. It’s a coming-of-age story.

Yes, there’s sex. Sure. But there’s also confusion and love and boy/girl/girl sex. If that’s not your thing, or if you’re looking for something light and easy, no hard feelings. Maybe this isn’t for you.

But if you want something real, raw, sometimes uncomfortable but always honest, then you’re more than welcome to read along.

NightAelf

*******

Orientation

The late eighties, early nineties were a time of change for Groningen. The city was shifting from its industrial past into a center for education and services. The nearby gas field, discovered decades earlier, powered the economy but also brought earthquakes and unrest. In 1990, the province saw its municipalities halve as towns merged and boundaries were redrawn.

I lived in a small village about eight or nine kilometers southwest of Groningen. A quiet place popular with people who loved the water and the outdoors. Every day I rode my bike to school and back, rain, wind or shine, just like a true Dutch country girl. I spoke in a broad dialect , well, it didn’t feel like dialect to me, it was just our language. I guess you could say I was a real ‘Grunneger doagwief’: plainspoken, steady on my feet, and not easily impressed.

That city of Groningen (the capital city of the provence Groningen is also called Groningen) was where I went to school, where life was louder and faster. But back then none of the darker stories had yet reached us. Between 1995 and 1997 Groningen earned a grim nickname, The murder capital of the Netherlands, after a series of shocking murders. That grim chapter came after my parents had already moved to Amsterdam so thankfully it was never something they had to worry about for me. By then I had long left that quiet village behind.

For me those days to that point were still about freedom, slow days and the space to dream. It was a time caught between old and new, innocence and the unknown.

I had just started a new program, a sort of college orientation year. I was still finding my way in that world. I still lived at home. Some of the others had already moved out, but my parents didn’t think that was a good idea. It was only an eight-kilometer bike ride, after all. Living at home saved money, and in their eyes, I was supposed to be thinking about my future.

The orientation year was meant to help you figure things out. Most of us in that class had no real idea what we wanted to do. But we’d all done well in school. I’d finished VWO, the highest level of Dutch secondary education, but I still had no clue where I belonged. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. Just that I hadn’t found it yet.

I was a late bloomer. By the time I got my first boyfriend, I was eighteen. Most of my friends had already been through one, maybe two. But I didn’t really mind. I had other things to do, other interests that kept me busy. I liked my life the way it was.

Truth was, I wasn’t really into boys. Not into kissing either. Not into much of anything beyond reading in my room with the music turned up just right. I’d only just figured out how to touch myself without feeling weird about it. But I wanted to fit in. I wanted to not feel like the last one on the list. So I asked Jerald, sweet, quiet Jerald, the guy in class I spent most of my time with, if maybe, just maybe, we could be a thing.

He looked like I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. Happy surprise, the kind you don’t see coming but hope for anyway.

Having a boyfriend felt nice. Maybe not because I was head over heels in love, but because it opened doors. It taught me things. Gave me a sense of belonging, finally. Or maybe that’s just what I told myself. tokat escort I still wonder, was it really about him, or about what came with it?

My mom joked that my friends changed boyfriends more often than they changed socks. She liked that I was more chill about it all. Honestly half the time I forgot I had a boyfriend. I didn’t act any different, just kept hanging out, laughing, pretending I knew what I was doing.

At school breaks my friends and I would hover near the boys who always tried to sneak a bit closer. I’d get these weird butterflies when I saw Marley’s boyfriend kissing her or touching her arm. Jerald liked standing behind me wrapping his arms around my waist. When his fingers brushed mine just barely it felt like a secret.

What I didn’t know then was how much boys actually thought about sex. It’s biology really. They’re like little pressure cookers ticking away. Jerald? Same story.

Jerald still lived at home, just like I did. But he lived in the city, which somehow made it all feel more exciting. Not that it was any closer to school, but still, the city had a kind of buzz our quiet village never did.

We had freedom, sure, but there were still rules. His bedroom door had to stay open a little when we were studying or just hanging out. His mom’s way of keeping tabs, without saying too much. The days moved slowly, but that quiet gave space to all the awkward, lovely feelings that come with growing up.

Jerald’s mom had one of those cordless phones. You could wander around the house but go too far from the base station and the call would drop. She could talk for hours usually with her sister or friends filling the house with endless chatter. When the battery finally died she’d grumble like it was a personal betrayal.

Jerald preferred coming over to my place anyway. Out here outside the city the rules were looser. We’d go for walks and no one was watching too closely. It was just easy.

One afternoon we were studying at his place. By then we’d been together for over six months, and Jerald’s mom trusted us enough to leave us alone most of the time.

He was stretched out on his bed and I had my head resting on his legs. We quizzed each other, half serious, half messing around. He teased me about cheating on a question, so I rolled over and looked up at him.

When I did, he jumped a little.

“Did that hurt?” I asked worried I’d done something wrong.

“No,” he said fast. “You just startled me.”

I was lying there with my head on his legs watching what was happening in his jeans. Slowly almost shyly I slid my fingers over him, just very soft and light. A gentle press more to feel what was going on than anything else.

Then I glanced up a little and I saw him tilt his head looking at me. Our eyes met and in that moment it was like we both wondered what now are we going to take this a little further.

There was something almost magical in that silent question between us.

“Can I see?” I asked my voice barely more than a whisper shy but hopeful.

He nodded shyly and loosened his jeans and underwear. He didn’t pull his manhood all the way out but let it rest on his stomach. I stared wide-eyed, not really knowing what to expect but definitely surprised

“Is it always like this?” I asked.

He blinked a little shocked. “You’ve never seen one before?”

I shook my head. “You’re the first,” I said. “And honestly I think it’s pretty impressive.”

A little flutter kicked at my stomach, maybe excitement, maybe nerves. Studying had drifted far from our minds.

I didn’t grab him, not really. I just let my fingertips explore, featherlight, tracing over the skin with more curiosity than confidence. My head was close, so close I could see every little movement and the way his body responded to my touch. My breath moved over him without meaning to and I felt the warmth of it bounce back at me.

His breathing changed suddenly, sharp and uneven. Before I could even think what that meant, something warm spilled across my fingers and up along his stomach.

“Oh god sorry!” Jerald gasped grabbing a tissue.

He looked at me with a flushed face, eyes wide and a little scared. Not panicked, but vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“That was… I mean… That was the first time someone else ever touched me,” he said, voice low and uneven.

I nodded slowly, still watching him, not really sure what to say. It didn’t feel like a big deal to me, not in a bad way at least. I wasn’t shocked or grossed out. Just curious. Fascinated, even.

There was some of it still on him, warm and sticky. I ran a finger through it, lightly, almost experimentally, and looked at it like I was inspecting something I didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, the texture a little strange, maybe even a bit gross, but also kind of interesting in its own right.

He watched me, holding his breath.

I looked up at him and smiled. “Weird,” yozgat escort I said softly. “But… kind of cool.”

I wasn’t embarrassed at all. Just curious, and maybe a little amazed. There were butterflies in my stomach, and I told him so, half-laughing, half unsure. He smiled faintly, his cheeks still red, and looked at me like he was trying to find the right words.

“Do you… want me to touch you too?” he asked. His voice was soft, not cocky, just nervous. Hopeful.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I reached down and slowly undid the button of my jeans. My hands trembled a little. Then I shifted, crawling up so our faces were more level. I could still see the mess on his stomach, the half-crumpled tissue lying awkwardly beside him. Neither of us really knew what to do with it.

We didn’t look each other in the eye. Not really. It was too much. Too close.

I took his hand gently and guided it to my hip. I let it rest there for a moment, then slid it a little lower. When I felt his fingers move, I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes.

He moved carefully, slowly, sliding his hand beneath the waistband. His touch was tentative, like he was afraid he’d do it wrong or scare me off. I could feel how wet I was, and apparently so could he, because he paused.

“Is that… normal?” he whispered. “Is it supposed to be like that?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Yeah. Didn’t you know?”

He blushed even deeper. “I read something about it once. In a booklet or something.” We both giggled. Because what else do you do when you’re young and half-dressed and the whole thing is both weird and exciting?

He kept going, more confident now, and something in me started to build. I placed my hand over his, still tucked inside my jeans, and pressed down to guide him. The friction made me gasp. My hips shifted without thinking, chasing the feeling.I closed my eyes and let it happen, that slow, inevitable rise I had only discovered a year earlier myself. The waves grew quietly inside me, building and curling and folding in, until I couldn’t hold them back anymore.

I came, quiet and trembling, barely making a sound.

Afterwards we lay still for a moment, breathing softly. Jerald reached for another tissue and wiped his hand. The one from earlier still clung to his side, forgotten.

From downstairs, we heard his mother’s voice rising, grumbling that the cordless phone had died again.

Jerald sighed. “She’ll be up soon.”

My interest in sex didn’t creep up slowly. It hit me like a jolt, electric and raw. I couldn’t stop thinking about his cock, about the way his fingers felt inside my jeans, the way he made me squirm. But no matter how much I fantasized about Jerald’s hands or mouth, it was always Marley’s face that popped into my head, confusing, thrilling, and utterly puzzling all at once

Marley wasn’t my best friend. She wasn’t even especially popular. But Marley was Marley. She could talk to anyone, float between groups like she didn’t need permission. People liked her, or at least acted like they did. They also talked about her, constantly. Whispered things in the hallways, said she was easy, or weird, or both. No one ever asked her anything, just assumed and passed it on.

And I… I watched her. Not directly. Not ever fully. She was always just there, hovering in my peripheral vision. In the corner of my eye, in the back of my thoughts. I never really looked at her, but somehow, she was always in view. I wanted to be closer, to know her better. And at the same time, I was terrified. Because the feelings I had around Marley didn’t fit into anything I understood.

Being near her made something shift inside me. Like a little flicker I didn’t know what to do with. And when I lay with Jerald, skin on skin, fingers brushing in the dark, it wasn’t Jerald’s eyes I saw in my mind. It was Marley’s.

The exam week went surprisingly well. Even biology, the one Jerald and I had been quizzing each other for, felt easier than expected. Just before the test started, I looked over at him and he shot me a cheeky wink. That little flutter in my stomach had nothing to do with nerves.

All that was left after those exams were the career aptitude tests and a handful of short internships at different companies, none of which made me feel any closer to knowing what I wanted.

Jerald and I barely had any time alone, but whenever we did he’d whisper things in my ear, how he’d been thinking about me and my pussy, how he wanted to get closer next time, how he wanted to lick me. His voice was always low and careful, like he was testing the waters, wondering how far he could go without scaring me off.

Sometimes I’d whisper back, watching him squirm when he grabbed his backpack to hide what was clearly a very distracted cock. Other times, when he whispered something a little too bold in my ear, he’d reach for a tissue and hand it to me with a smirk. “Here,” he’d say zonguldak escort under his breath, “thought you might need this… you looked a bit flushed.” His way of teasing, because he knew exactly what he was doing, giving me a ‘girl boner’, as we jokingly started to call it.

It was this clumsy, funny dance, full of half-whispers, awkward glances and secret touches. We were still learning what was allowed and what felt good, feeling out each other’s bodies with more curiosity than experience. Every kiss, every fumble, every pause to giggle or gasp felt like discovering a new country, one mapless and thrilling.

And that discovering didn’t stop at touching. Back then, before smartphones and Google and all the answers just one click away, you had to be a bit creative. Sometimes I’d sneak into the library and flip through books on sex, never daring to check them out, of course. Just standing there between the shelves, heart racing, scanning the diagrams and paragraphs like they held the secrets of the universe.

At home, we had a full encyclopedia set, those old-school brick-sized volumes lined up perfectly in the living room. My parents had one on astronomy, one on famous wars, and, yes, one on love and sexuality. My parents never said we weren’t allowed to read it, but it was the kind of silence that meant don’t even think about it.

Jerald and I, of course, thought about it.

Whenever my mother was distracted, folding laundry, on the phone, or just not looking, I’d quietly pull it out, and Jerald and I would crouch over it, flipping through the stiff, glossy pages. The drawings were clinical, sure, but they made us feel like we were getting away with something big.

The school year was nearly over and for the first time we were going to experience a big school party. Because the school was so large, first year students were expected to help out by joining committees. It felt like the start of something new, a chance to break out of the quiet little bubble we had been floating in for years. Safe, predictable, boring.

Suddenly there was glitter in the air. Tension too. Something was shifting, even if we couldn’t name it yet. People started looking at each other differently in the hallways. Some of us cared more about what we wore than what we learned. It was as if the future had cracked the door open just enough to let the wind in, and we all turned our heads. Maybe nothing would really change. But it felt like it could.

Some committees were about the party itself, like organizing the bar, the BBQ, or cleaning duties. Others helped with the overall setup and coordination. Jerald and I weren’t looking to stress, so we quickly signed up for cleaning duty. The upside was that we’d have access to classrooms and rooms usually off-limits that night.

Most couples in our group, especially the boys, suddenly saw the party as the perfect chance to finally get some privacy. Jerald and I had already made a deal, he’d be the one to take my virginity that night. Not because it was some big romantic milestone in my mind, but mostly just to get it over with. We’d talked about it, laughed about it, and figured: why not?

The night of the party couldn’t come soon enough, and we were both relieved when the last week of school finally started. During one of the final breaks Jerald whispered in my ear, “I bought a pack of condoms yesterday.” I pressed my backside firmly against him and rubbed against his erection. I found it all terribly exciting.

The other girls in our group were nervous too. Some had been with boys before, but for a few of us, it was the very first time.

The boys talked tough about how often they’d get to go and how good they were. Jerald whispered with a chuckle, “Only Jaco has actually slept with a girl. The others are just full of shit.” I loved that Jerald shared that secret with me.

They decided to divide the classrooms so the right key would get to the right couple on time. There was a lot of guessing about who would get which spot until Jerald said, “Let’s just draw straws.”

Not everyone was happy. Marley, who was dating Jaco, had already claimed the best spot for herself. At first the classrooms were split up, but eventually the gym, a separate building next to the school, had to be shared between two couples. Nobody wanted the gym.

Jerald was the first to pick a straw. Sure enough, he got the gym. The other boys laughed and slapped him on the back. One by one they breathed a sigh of relief that they didn’t have to share the gym.

Then it was Jaco’s turn. “Damn it,” he shouted. “Marley, I guess I’ll have to take you to the gym.”

Suddenly it didn’t seem so bad that we were in the gym after all. Marley would be there too.

The day of the party was loud and chaotic. Classes let out at half past twelve, and the committees sprang into action. Our job was sweeping the auditorium, the hallways, and the school grounds. Trash cans had to be placed everywhere, benches dragged out of the gym.

I’ve always been pretty strong, so Jerald and I teamed up to handle the heavy lifting. Just before hauling out the last bench, I pulled him close and pressed my lips to his. His hands found my waist instantly, pulling me in, pressed hard against the growing bulge in his pants.

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

Monday

I looked at my watch; it wasn’t even noon yet. But I was thousands of miles from where I started the day. The transition from the February cold of La Crosse, Wisconsin to the tropical jungle paradise of Cancun, Mexico had me coated in a fine layer of sweat. I was in a shuttle van, driving north of the city, away from the airport and to my destination – a resort on the gulf coast. I was treating myself to a much needed three days of rest and relaxation.

The vegetation became thicker and the weather steamier as we drove further from the city. I kept my eyes on the scenery, this being my first trip to Mexico, and with each resort we passed my anticipation grew. How long would it be until I was poolside with a drink in my hand?

There was one other couple in the shuttle with me and the driver. I assumed they were honeymooners, based on their age and displays of affection. I was guessing they were in their mid 20s, their accents made me think they were from the northeast. I felt a pang of shame when I felt my own 30something year old ring finger, unadorned.

Then the shuttle slowed, and I saw a sign with words that I recognized. We turned through an opening gate and the foliage parted, revealing a circular drive leading to a covered entry, at which waited two well dressed attendants.

The honeymooners exited the shuttle first and were quickly ushered through a door to the left, their bags following them. I was guided to a door to the right, the attendant whisking away my suitcase from the back of the shuttle. I wouldn’t see it again until I entered my room.

Inside I was greeted with a cool towel and a glass of ice water with lemon and cucumber. Another well dressed man gestured toward a plush chair in front of his desk and started the check-in process on his computer.

“Welcome to Playa Mujeres, is this your first visit?”

“Yes,” I responded, taking a sip of water.

“And is it Miss Gomes?” he asked, pronouncing it with two syllables, like first name of the progenitor of the Addams Family. He had a puzzled look that I had encountered before when meeting people from a spanish speaking background, trying to square the seeming ethnicity of my last name with my pale blonde midwestern appearance and demeanor.

“Yes, Meredith Gomes,” I answered, rhyming it with “homes” and correcting his pronunciation. I had my passport and a printed copy of my reservation confirmation ready to hand over. He reached out for them without asking, and after what I thought was more time and keystrokes than necessary, he struck one more key with a flourish and announced the process complete.

He passed my documents to me and then presented a wrist band that would serve as my room key and perform any other function needed during my stay. He ensured that it was securely on my wrist, then led me on a quick tour. His place at the door was taken by another employee waiting in the wings, lest another party need checking in during his absence.

The resort was as beautiful as I hoped it would be when I made the reservation almost a year earlier, on the recommendation of a member of my congregation. Just inside the entry was a large hall, high ceiling, a lot of overstuffed leather furniture, and a well stocked bar. The wall opposite the entry, behind the bar, was three stories of windows, overlooking more jungle, and with the Gulf of Mexico in the background. A uniformed man and woman behind the bar nodded and smiled at me as we passed. Several other guests were spread out, sipping on drinks or coffee and enjoying the air conditioning.

He first showed me where several of the restaurants were. The resort was all-inclusive, with different dining options, including restaurants featuring local Mexican food, Asian, sushi, Italian, a classic American steak and potatoes place, and near the pool a restaurant with lighter, Mediterranean style cuisine. There were a few stand-alone bars mixed in also. He showed me the spa and explained how I could make a reservation for any spa services using the tablet ouside the spa door. He also pointed out several other tablets where dinner reservations could be made and other information found. He then made a oint of taking me up to show off the roof top bar. Honestly at that point I really just wanted to get to my room, but he was adamant. In hindsight it was worth it, as the rooftop bar featured an amazing view of the area, and included hot tub seating for patrons along with the normal stools and tables and couches. Then it was back down the elevator and to my room.

He showed me how the wristband unlocked the door just by being waved in front of the sensor, then we entered. There was a small entryway with two closets for storage and a bench. Past that the room opened up to a large bathroom with movable walls, so that it could be kept open or made private. In the bathroom was a large soaking tub facing a walk-in shower that could easily be used to wash a MINI Cooper. A separate room for the commode ordu escort and long, two-sink countertop and makeup mirror completed the room.

Past the bathroom was the rest of the suite, featuring a king sized bed in the middle of the room, unencumbered except for a small night stand so that it could be circled on foot. Beyond that was a small desk, a large sofa that appeared to be upholstered in leather or vinyl, a small circle table with two chairs, and the patio door that lead out to the private balcony. I looked out the patio door and could see the beach and water beyond, with the pool just below.

Already in the room was my suitcase, and on the table was a bucket of ice, bottle of champagne, and two flutes. I ignored it; I guess their reservation system wasn’t properly updated. I attempted to tip my tour guide, but he advised that there was no need. He said that I was free to tip the bartenders, and that since they didn’t expect guests to carry around cash, a single gratuity could be paid at checkout that would be divided among all the bartenders and servers, but any other service was otherwise covered with what was already paid. I thanked him and he left me to unpack.

The door closed behind him and I promptly made sure that it was secure, adding the extra deadbolt lock. Then it was off with my clothes. I had changed into shorts in the Minneapolis airport, and now they were on the floor, quickly followed by the tshirt that completed my outfit. Now, in just bra and panties, I could breathe.

I lifted my heavy suitcase onto the luggage rack and unzipped it. I opened the door to one of the closets, in which I found two plush white robes waiting for me, and slid open a few drawers. Into the first drawer went the underwear I packed for the week, ranging in style and coverage depending on what I thought might be needed. The second drawer got the swimwear I packed. This included a modest green one piece swimsuit (and matching mesh floral skirt that I could wear with it for a more complete outfit) and two more modest bikinis, one in blue and the other in a pale pink that matched my skin enough to give the impression of nudity. They showed less skin than my bra and panties (high waist, full seat coverage) and were determined to be appropriate for swimming parties with a pre-teen church group (but not the teens) as they covered my naughty bits and the small tattoo on my hip.

Also into that drawer went a new purchase, the proverbial itsy bity teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini, which was also a literal itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini. I had purchased it online late one night, and was surprised to discover how well it fit and how much I liked how I looked in it. Last into that drawer went an oversized men’s white linen shirt, nearly see through, and with the arms ripped off. That was my designated cover up for getting to and from the pool.

Another drawer got a few tshirts and shorts that I brought just in case, as well as the clothes I just discarded, and my return trip clothes – a sweatshirt and jeans to get me through the cold back to my car. To the hangers I added several light summer dresses that I was really looking forward to wearing. Sundress season in Wisconsin is too short, so I wanted to get the most out of them this week. One was light blue with a floral design. Another yellow also with a floral design, covering less of my thighs, and the third was a classier little black dress, should an evening event call for it.

The contents of my makeup and toiletry bag were spread across the large countertop, and a few pairs of sandals and heels and sneakers were set on the floor of the closet. My phone charger was set up on the small nightstand, and I plugged in my phone, then turned on some music. I spun around the room and took it all in. I had arrived and could feel the tension leaving my shoulders.

I moved back to the patio door and looked out to the beach, then the pool. I had all afternoon… and the pool looked so perfect. I took a quick survey of everyone in the room and it was a unanimous decision; time for the pool! (I could get used to travelling alone.)

I moved to the full length mirror next to the closet and shed my bra and panties. I took it all in and messed my hair, posed with hand on hip, turned 90 degrees clockwise and took another view. Not too shabby… Like all the women in my family, I inherited a pear shaped body and smaller breasts, but with it came a slim midsection and thighs that were unaffected by my inconsistent diet. I did yoga and pilates regularly, which definitely had a positive effect on my rear end. But as I’d tell anyone who asked, I thought my best feature was my slender neck and shoulders. I kept my wavy blonde hair in a bob to ensure my neck was always visible. I guess I was on the shorter side, about 5’4″, but I’d say that it all worked well together.

I spent another moment in front of the mirror, examining the result of the osmaniye escort brazilian wax I’d received the Friday before. Everything was still smooth and bare. I let my fingers brush over my pale skin, then slid them around my back and down my bare cheeks, letting the touch linger for a moment. The air conditioning had dried that layer of sweat, and my skin was soft and smooth to the touch. I thought about taking a break for some alone time, but there’d be plenty of that later. I was wasting daylight. It was pool time!

Oh, yeah, another thing, sunscreen. Still standing in front of the mirror, I located one of the two full bottles of sunscreen I brought with me. My Norwegian DNA screamed for the highest SPF possible, and I didn’t want to disappoint, lest I immediately transition from pale to burned. I liberally and methodically applied the sunscreen to every part of my naked body, studying myself in the mirror closely to ensure that it was all rubbed in and there were no unsightly white patches of unabsobed lotion remaining.

After at least 20 minutes of work, I was sure that I was protected. I opened the drawer with the swimsuits and considered my choices. Was the new bikini too itsy bitsy? Maybe I should save that for tomorrow, after getting a sense of the dress code of the other resort guests. I picked up the pink bikini and put it on, checked myself out in the mirror again, and gave myself a nod of approval. I slipped into some sandals, put on the white linen cover-up, and topped it all with a straw fedora with navy blue hat band (every midwesterner had that beach vacation fedora in their closet at home) and sunglasses.

Next to the door was a beach bag provided by the resort, already stocked with two towels and a bottle of water. I added to that my phone and airpods, the bottle of sunscreen, and a book that was recommended by some of the women in my congregation. It was called “Burnout,” found in the self help section of any decent book store, and was intended to advise the modern woman how to do it all without, I assume, burning out. I wasn’t previously aware that I was at risk of that until others told me how urgent it was that I read the book. I hadn’t cracked it open on the plane, and now the bright pink cover screamed for my attention.

In two minutes I was poolside, scanning the chairs lined up around the pool, broken up by a few covered cabanas which were already filled with content couples of various ages. At the far end of the pool was a bar with a walk up side and a swim up side. The bar was buzzing with waiters delivering drinks to those who couldn’t be bothered to move from their chairs. On the opposite side of the pool was a small patch of empty lounge chairs between already lounging guests.

I made my way around the pool and picked out the middle of the three empty chairs, spreading out my towel. To my right was an older couple silently enjoying the sun and not interacting. On the rocks behind me, away from the pool, an iguana was lazily catching some sun too. I don’t see too many of those in Wisconsin, but assumed that if I left it alone, it would leave me alone. To my left was a woman in a black two piece, alone and laying on her back. Her sunglasses were too dark for me to notice if she was awake and looking at me or just snoozing away the afternoon. I stepped out of my sandals and slid the linen shirt off my shoulders, folding it and putting it into the beach bag. I laid down on the chair, back down tits up to start, and reached into my bag, my fingers finding the book and moving past it to my phone and airpods. I put them in and started a true crime podcast that I’d been saving for this week.

Within seconds a waiter interrupted me for my drink order. I asked for a margarita without hesitation, then as he stepped away I added that he should just bring two, save himself a trip. This elicited a snort and chuckle from black bikini (so she was awake) who raised an empty glass and requested two of the same for herself. She then used the interruption to roll onto her stomach, her head turned toward me. I still couldn’t tell if her eyes were open, but allowed myself to ignore her and fade into the story of a horrible unsolved murder. The drinks arrived a moment later and I made quick work of the first, setting the second aside to be savored.

I lay there for more than 30 minutes, not moving except to sip my drink, occasionally glancing at black bikini and seeing that she also hadn’t moved. My podcast was getting a bit darker than I expected, the descriptions of dismemberment clashing with my surroundings and the overall chill vibe I was hoping to capture. I made the decision to turn it off and put away my airpods, then rolled onto my stomach and let my back get some sun. As I turned I glanced at the iguana, still lounging and looking me over. I got settled and parted my legs slightly, allowing a gentle breeze to move up between my thighs and give me an appreciated tingle. sinop escort I subtly ground my hips into the chair, just a bit, trying to find the slightest bit of friction. I masked a second, more intentional attempt by reaching for the book in my bag. I was scanning the equally distinctive pink back cover for probably the ninth time when I heard a voice.

“I know that book. I couldn’t make it past the back cover either.”

It was black bikini. She hadn’t moved in a while; still laying on her stomach with her face toward me, just one empty chair and a few empty margarita glasses between us. I assumed that her husband or whoever would have filled that chair by now.

“Sorry,” she added, “didn’t mean to impose. It’s just that the cover really stands out.”

“Yeah,” I resonded, “I had a few people recommend it to me. Not sure why I bought it though. Maybe they were trying to tell me something? I dunno, should I feel insulted?”

She let out another chuckle. “You’re poolside in paradise, sipping margaritas and rocking a bikini. You don’t need any book to tell you how to live your life.”

Hearing that elicited a physical reaction in me. I could feel myself getting warm all over, but also a sensation like pride, elation, like I’d won a prize or caught a stranger checking me out. I lifted my nearly empty second margarita and held it toward her. “Thanks, and ditto! Cheers!” She raised her glass and clinked mine, then we both emptied them. The attentive waiter was there a minute later with another for each of us and to take away the empties.

“So who was the rotten friend who recommended that book to you?” she asked. We had broken the seal and were now ready for some conversation. We were both still laying on our stomachs, now propping ourselves up on our elbows and turning slightly to face each other.

I thought about telling her a lie, making up a story that wouldn’t reveal too much about myself. I had never travelled alone before, at least not to another country, but the anonymity and ability to create any backstory was appealing. But something told me that I should tell her the truth about myself, that she would understand more than others. So I gave her my story.

“Not a rotten friend, actually. It was a group of women. Part of my job is to lead a womens’ support group, and one of the members brought the book to the rest of the group. She was so excited about it, and got the rest of the group excited about it, so I thought I should check it out.”

“Interesting,” she responded with a surprising amount of sincerity. She also turned onto her side to better face me. I couldn’t help but take a long look at her body, hoping that my sunglasses disguised my gaze as well as hers did. She had a darker complexion than me (but who didn’t?), olive skin, dark hair turned frizzy in the tropical humidity and held back from her face with a black headband. She had large, round breasts that seemed out of place with her long, slender arms, legs and torso. She seemed just a few situps away from six pack abs. I wondered if she was some type of athlete, maybe a marathon runner or volleyball player. Definitely gave the impression of an experienced dancer. “You lead a support group. So are you a psychologist or social worker or something?”

I took a sip from my drink to build suspense. “Actually, I’m a Lutheran pastor. I have a church in Wisconsin. So I lead womens’ groups and youth groups and other various community activities, and every Sunday morning I robe up and take the stage. I’ve got almost 300 families in my congregation.” I’d seen before how some people react to learning about my job, and I really hoped she wasn’t one of the ones who clammed up and felt weird about talking to someone in the clergy.

She leaned closer then spoke. “Really? I didn’t know women could be pastors.”

“You’re thinking of the Catholics. Still no women priests or deacons. But Lutherans have allowed women pastors for a while. I like to think that we’re the chillest Christians.” I tried one of my standard youth group lines on her. She gave me a polite chuckle in response, then jumped right to a question I wasn’t expecting.

“But do you still have to be celibate? I only ask because I don’t see a ring…” She nodded toward my left hand, which I then held out between us. I also noticed that her left hand was on display and was also unadorned.

“Nope, that’s the Catholics too. I’m allowed, ” and here is where the margaritas really started to kick in, “just unfortunately lacking at the moment.”

“It’s like I’m looking in a mirror,” she remarked with a smirk, then raised her drink for another clink from mine. “I’m Leah.”

“Meredith.”

When she heard my name her lips tightened and her head turned slightly sideways. Not the first time I’d seen that response. I wasn’t a huge fan of the name either. When I was younger, friends would shorten it to Em, and past boyfriends usually ended at the same place, but now I was stuck with it through professional usage.

“You don’t look like a Meredith. Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

I laughed, not realizing that she was serious. Then she continued.

“I meant that mirror thing literally, you know. I’m actually in the clergy myself. I’m a rabbi.”

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

The air is dense, wet. It clung to my skin, crept into my lungs like a second breath.

Haruka shifted above me. Her heartbeat thrummed against my back, steady, unbothered. My own pulsed like a war drum, deafening my ears.

I am flying. I am underground.

My thighs trembled, my toes curled. The bed is too soft. The walls too far away. My body burned, my mind flew, and yet–

I can see everything. I can feel everything.

The heat pooling between my legs, the fingers digging into my waist, the soft, warm sensation of Haruka breathing against my ear–I felt it all.

Too much. Not enough.

A breath. A shift. A slow, creeping smile above me.

“Mm~ Baby, you’re shaking.”

She bucked down into me.

My mouth opened. No sound came out.

=======================================================

Another night, another penny.

Approaching the main doors of the café, I spotted my boss, Haruka, mid-rant and screaming at someone just out of sight.

Red-faced, sweating, veins bulging, seems like just another day in the office for her.

“…shoving half of Colombia up your nose after every shift, and you still think you deserve more than a goddamn sweatshop worker?”

“Yeah, fuck you, too!”

“Hey, boss.” I greeted her, trying to inject a sense of normalcy into the chaos.

She barely glanced at me before flashing a sharp, familiar grin. “Ah, there’s a sight for sore eyes. Gimme a sec with this prick, yeah?”

Sauntering out from behind the counter, she briskly followed my coworker out back, still hurling profanity the whole way.

“Take your time.” I muttered under my breath.

=======================================================

“…hey. Hey.”

“…mmph–wha, huh??”

I jolted awake, disoriented, still slouched over the counter, a pair of hands clapping in front of my face. I saw Haruka standing in front of me, a little disheveled, and her eyes gleaming with her signature crazy look.

“Enjoying your little nap, pipsqueak?”

“N-No, I’m sorry, I–“

“Yeah, figures,” she cut me off, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “I mean, hey, with all those night shifts you pull, what are we looking at? Twenty-three hours of sleep a week maybe?”

She took her time crossing the counter, slow and deliberate, like she was savoring the sight of me squirming.

“Y-Yeah, I guess so.”

“Three to five hours a night,” she mused. “Keep that up, and they’ll be scraping you off the pavement sooner or later.”

Her voice oozed with the faux-concern that I knew too well. I rolled my eyes, already knowing exactly where this was headed.

“Right.”

“It’s a damn shame I don’t pay you to sleep on the job, though.” She leaned in, voice dropping to something almost sweet–daring me to say something.

“Twelve bucks an hour for a lazy ass who can’t even make a decent macchiato? Hell of a bargain, ain’t it?”

Just like that, her voice shifted–chipper to cold, teasing to a low, dangerous growl. She came to a stop beside me, her five-foot-eight frame looming overhead. Her scent then hit me next: booze and cigs, mixed with the sickly-sweet perfume that she always likes to wear.

“Maybe I should start docking your pay for every little fuck-up. Then, have you earn your salary back the fun way, if you catch my drift~ ♡”

“I’m… s-sorry,” I whispered, my voice on the verge of breaking. “I haven’t h-had a decent night’s sleep… in a while.”

Haruka’s smile never wavered, but her eyes gleamed with something darker. “Mmmm, it’s alright, sweetie, it’s okay.” she purred, her hand now softly combing my hair, the soft touch completely at odds with the harsh words that had just left her lips.

I stiffened at her touch, but she just smiled down at me, her voice now motherly and soothing.

Ah… not again.

“I just need you to stop being such a dullard of a cunt, you know?”

Keep it together, Molly. Just keep it together…

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s a goooood girl~ I know you’ll figure something out, you always do, don’t you?” Her hands trailed up to my face this time, fingertips gliding over my skin in an almost playful manner. It was too personal, too intimate.

“Ooohh, I almost forgot,” she purred. “Be a doll and take the night shift for tomorrow night, ‘mkay?”

“W…What?”

Her smile never wavered, but I could feel her grip on my face tightening. Just enough to remind me exactly who was in control.

“See, your cocksucker of a coworker won’t be coming back anytime soon. That leaves you in charge tomorrow night–until I can find a replacement.”

“Why…? I-I mean, why isn’t he coming back?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Why? Oh, I’ll tell you why.”

Her grip on my face stayed light–too light. Just enough to make me aware of her nails, pressing in like a threat waiting to be cashed in.

“He spends more time getting blitzed than he does making coffee. That’s why.”

A little tighter.

“I’ve caught that bastard stealing karaman escort from my register. That’s why.”

Sharper.

“He gets into scuffles whenever he’s tweaking his head off on that Bolivian marching powder. That’s WHY.”

Deeper.

Each ‘why’ hit like a slap. Louder, angrier, the pressure on my cheeks now starting to burn. Not that I had the luxury of pulling away.

“O-Oh.”

“I don’t like employing addicts in my establishment, as you can imagine. Fuckwads, every last one of them.”

“Yeah, I-I can see that.”

Her fingers gripped my face harder, enough to leave my lips puckered and my breath shallow. The way she held me felt suffocating, like an abusive mom who had just lost her marbles at her daughter.

“I’d very much appreciate it if you’d stop asking me all these stupid fuckin’ questions, too. Just nod that little head off, say ‘Yes, ma’am’ like the good girl you’re supposed to be, and do exactly as I tell you.”

I fell silent, shivering as this unhinged woman, ever so calmly, curled her arms tighter around me. I could barely even process her words, her breath creeping into my ear as she leaned even closer.

“Am I clear, pip? ♡”

“Y-Yes… ma’am.” I mumbled, my voice weak and defeated.

“Mmmmm, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Haruka purred, her fingers ruffling my hair.

Then, out of nowhere, her lips were on my neck. Hot, needy, as if she was starved for something only I could give.

I gasped, my body tensing, my breath stalling.

“A-Auhh, Haruka… don’t.” My fingers curled into her hair, but it did nothing to stop. If anything, it only spurred her on. Her kisses deepened, slow and deliberate, dragging heat down my spine in lazy, sinful strokes.

“Someone m-might… mmh, see us…”

A useless protest.

I was bent over the counter before I even knew what was happening, her lips and tongue never leaving my neck.

“Mmm, m-mhh… nohh…” I whimpered, my body falling limp beneath her.

“Hang on, baby, just getting a little taste…” she murmured, her voice low and raspy. Her grip tightened, pinning my wrists behind my back–securing me.

“Mnm, Molly, you smell so sweet~ ♡”

The warm bite of her breath ghosted my skin, warm and achingly slow, each kiss sinking me deeper into helplessness.

The words, the heat, the sheer overwhelming intensity, all of it made my mind hazy.

“Auuh… ahhaa, f-fuck…”

“Can’t wait to have you all by myself soon~” Haruka exhaled, her lips grazing the shell of my ear, her voice nothing but raw hunger.

It felt like an eternity before she finally pulled away, but she didn’t let me go. She stayed wrapped around me, pressing me down on the counter.

Mounting me like a prize pony.

“Before 9 PM tomorrow. Don’t be late~ ♡” Her whisper lingered in my ear, each word dripping with unspoken promise.

She then walked away, nonchalantly, leaving me still reeling from what just happened.

…The fuck have I just gotten myself into…?

=======================================================

[8:41 P.M.]

Against my better judgment, I showed up the next day–err, night–anyway. I spent a solid seven minutes just standing in front of the doors, my hand frozen on the handle, contemplating whether or not I should go through with it.

In the end, I went inside. Haruka was already waiting.

“Heheheeeyy, look who it is!” She waved me over from the counter, grinning like she hadn’t strong-armed me into this. “My favorite little wagie. Just when I needed ya too, come, come!”

I sighed, more out of frustration than anything, then briskly followed her behind the counter. I was led into the employees-only room, just behind the milk freezer, where she promptly handed me a maid uniform.

If you could even call it that.

It looked like it belonged in a stripper’s drawer more than in a café waitress’.

“…the fuck am I holding?”

Haruka laughed, amused by my discomfort, before leaning in close. “A string microbikini, pip. Meido style~” She pointed to the tiny little apron stitched to the panties. “Try it on, I did my best to guess your sizes.”

Being naked is more preferable than this horseshit.

“B-Boss, you seriously can’t expect–“

“bOsS, yOu SeRiOuSlY cAn’T eXpEcT–ah-ah, no backsies for you, baby,” she wagged a finger at me, grinning. “You know how much that two-piece cost? Definitely more than those plastic monster horsecocks you seem to love collecting.”

I clenched my teeth, my frustration building.

She’s fucking with me…

“Since when did you decide you were running a tittybar…?”

“Since like, oh I dunno, yesterday?” Her grin shifted, turning into something taunting. “Why do you think I asked you to take this shift?”

Of course. My coworker getting fired was just an excuse. I should’ve known.

I glared at her, not that I was surprised by what she said.

“C’mon, pip, just this night? I’ll sweeten the deal if you go through kars escort with this~” She stepped in closer, voice dripping with promise.

“…Like what?”

“Like that long-overdue raise you’ve been pining for.” She paused, the smile on her face fading just slightly, but then her tone turned sharp. “You have no idea how fucking annoying you’ve been asking for it every week.”

For a second, she sounded lighthearted, almost playful. The next, she sounded like she was itching to sock someone on the nose.

She really is fucking with me.

“Uh-huh, a five-dollar increase for parading around like a whore.” I rolled my eyes. “Might as well just go work at an actual brothel.”

“How does fiftee–no, twenty bucks sound?”

“…Twenty?” I repeated, blinking in disbelief.

“Yeah, twenty. Definitely more than your scrawny ass will ever make getting fucked by men twice your age.”

I looked down at the bikini in my hands, the flimsy strings barely enough to be considered clothing. I couldn’t even tell which part was supposed to cover my bits–if any part of it even did. Haruka just stared at me, grinning, eagerly waiting for an answer.

“Do I… have to wear this every night, or just tonight?”

“Every night.”

I froze.

“If you want to, that is~”

“Hah–” I gasped in relief. “A-Alright, just this night. Just once.”

Haruka clicked her tongue, disappointed but not surprised.

“Mmm, bummer. Was hoping you’d say every night.” She stretched, scratching her neck, that taunting smile creeping back onto her lips. “Oh well~ Have a nice shift, pip! And be sure to give any customers a real treat, ‘mkay?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, whatever…” I mumbled, barely holding it together.

I can handle this. It’s just one night.

=======================================================

[8:54 P.M.]

I got dressed in that set of fetish gear the second Haruka was out of sight.

A black microbikini with a tiny maid apron stitched onto the panties. In it, I felt cold, exposed and naked. The apron offered a false sense of modesty, like some cruel, tasteless joke. I was no stranger to doing undignified crap for money, but this? This was just crossing a line and a half.

“I’ve seen pasties that cover more than this…”

I took my time staring at myself in the mirror, its reflection a sarcastic mockery. My scrawny, pasty white frame, barely covered by the outfit. It was a sight that would’ve made even an exotic dancer blush.

Strangely enough, I wasn’t as embarrassed as I thought I’d be. Rather, I felt a mild, quiet rush building up inside of me. Something I couldn’t quite place, a mix of dread, anxiety, and… something else.

“Ahh… fuck it, here goes nothing.” I whispered to myself, my voice hollow.

I stepped out onto the main floor, my legs shaking with anticipation and embarrassment.

At first, nothing happened. I expected gasps, leers, maybe even a few snickers here and there.

Instead, the waiting customers were… almost expectant. Their eyes didn’t burn with the judgment I anticipated.

No, they were hungry eyes. Ones that watched me like I was a spectacle, something they were used to, something they expected.

“Hoooohh, that’s my girl!” Haruka hollered from a nearby table, her voice filled with glee and satisfaction. “Let’s go, pip. Give these boys a show~ ♡”

Her words hit me like a smack, a grim reminder of just what kind of game I was playing–or rather, was forced to play.

I swallowed hard, my breath becoming shallow, before glancing back at the room. Rows upon rows of men, of all ages, leering at my half-naked body, their eyes tracing every inch that was visible.

Not one female customer was in sight.

I crossed an arm over my chest, and pressed a hand between my thighs–but I knew it did nothing to save what little chastity I had left.

With the promise of that $32 an hour dangling over me, I clenched my jaw and began serving them.

I could feel every movement, every stare, every touch that wasn’t there yet, but would be soon.

=======================================================

[9:00 P.M.]

Three hours. I got this.

Catcalls, wandering hands, and stares that could’ve burned a hole straight through me. Nothing too bad–not yet.

Every now and then, I’d steal a glance at Haruka, still lounging at a table in the far corner of the café. Her eyes were still locked onto me, sharp and hungry, like a tiger patiently waiting for its dinner.

“She’s a tad small for my taste, but eh, any port in a storm, amirite?” One customer chuckled, his hand gripping my ass as I tried to set their drinks down. Raucous laughter followed, loud and carefree, oblivious to how exposed I felt.

“Yeah, when Haruka told us about this, I expected a bombshell,” one of them added, his voice oozing with derision. “Not a runt like you.”

“Well, you get what you pay for, schmuck.” I shot back, feeling the sting of my own words. He just kıbrıs escort smirked at me, unfazed.

Right then, I felt the sting of my thong getting yanked upward, the string digging into both my ass and my pussy. A sharp gasp left my throat as I shrieked, the cup of water slipping from my hand and splashing across the floor.

“You’re right, we should just enjoy the show while we’re at it!”

“Hooohh!! Ah, s-stop that!” I screamed, spinning around, heart pounding in my chest, but before I could even process what was happening, I froze.

Across the café, Haruka’s disapproving throat-clear cut through the air, the sound of it icy and cold. I looked up to see gently shaking her head at me, glaring at me I was a misbehaving child.

I sighed, my stomach sinking, a familiar numbness creeping back into my limbs. I dropped to the floor to pick up the spilled cup, but the second I bent over, I felt it.

Their eyes. Their stares, burning into the bare curves of my ass. The thong rode up as I stretched down to grab the fallen cup. Their low chuckles, their whispers, the shift of bodies as they leaned in for a closer look–I heard all of it.

They’re all watching me.

I swallowed hard. My shift was still far from over, and I can’t afford to show weakness.

Not yet.

=======================================================

[10:24 P.M.]

Pull yourself together… you can do this.

The harassment, the groping–none of it let up as my shift dragged on. Customers only grew bolder, more brazen, more cruel.

Every glance, every touch, all of it made it clear: I was merely another piece of meat for them to leer at.

To devour.

“Careful now, those cakes are expensive,” a salaryman customer muttered, feigning concern as I set the plates down in front of him.

His hand casually fondled at my ass, groping, kneading it like it was raw dough. I whimpered and groaned, trying to steady my grip on the tableware.

“S-Stop, at least l-let me…”

“Mmm? Let you what?” His voice was all honey-sweet. His grin was anything but.

Before I could stammer out a response, his hand shot up, yanking my thong upwards with a sudden, vicious snap.

There was no pain this time. There was… something else.

Something humiliating.

My body betrayed me, clenching, shivering with unwanted delight through my groin as the fabric, wet and slick, dug even deeper into my inner folds. The thong strained with every tug, and for a split second, I feared it might actually snap under the pressure.

I almost hoped it would, too.

“Aaghh, n-nohh!”

“Petite, yet curvy. I know plenty of men who’d love to get their hands all over you, little lady,” he murmured, his voice low and sensual. “Men who prefer their ‘meals’ a little younger. A good price for the right girl, of course.”

Great, a fucking douchecanoe who thinks I’m a kid…

“H-Hard… hard pass…” I snapped, my voice trembling with equal defiance and dread.

“Why not? You’re already doing this, aren’t ya? Serving customers dressed up like a little whore. At least with my clients, you’d only need to service one man at a time.”

“S-Still no… mmhhh!”

I stood on my toes as his arm lifted higher, the soaked fabric already starting to burn on my clit and pussy lips.

No, I’m gonna…

“N-Nhohho, fuck… l-let me go…!” I gasped, my voice ragged, already on the brink of something I didn’t want. He obliged almost immediately, the pressure disappearing just as quickly as it disappeared.

I was left bent over his table, panting, breathless, and my heart pounding like a drum.

“Fine, but I’ll leave you my offer.” he said, sliding a business card across the table, his smirk widening. “Y’know, just in case you change your mind.”

This can’t go on.

That heat between my legs–it was starting to become unbearable.

“Hey, what the fuck, what’s taking that bitch so long!?” I heard a customer yell from another table, the impatience evident from his voice.

“Y-Yes, coming!” I stammered, my voice unsteady as I forced myself upright, ignoring the dull throb between my legs. With jelly-like steps, I made my way to their table, balancing the tray in my hands.

My ass was then immediately met with a forceful slap.

“Nyahhh!!”

“Took you a while, babygirl.” The customer growled, his voice thick with an accent. A heavyset man, foreign-looking, flanked by two others who looked just like him–twin hulks who appeared more like thugs than patrons.

Fuck me, they’re all so huge…

“Careful man, poor thing might drop all of that.” One of them sneered, eying me like I was prey.

“Well, if that happens, I’m sure she knows how to pay us back,” the first man added, his hand suddenly gripping my nipple that had slipped free from my bikini.

He twisted it hard, squeezing a mewl out of me and forcing me to meet his gaze. “Ain’t that right, baby?”

“S-Stop it… ahh!”

The others chuckled, watching me squirm as the man’s fingers pinched my stiff nub. A jolt of unwanted euphoria shot through my body, but I forced myself to keep steady, managing just enough composure to finish setting the last of their order down.

“That’s a good girl. We’ll take it from here,” the man said, finally letting me go.

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

As ever, feel free to jump in here if you want. You won’t need a ton of context to enjoy Dara and Briony’s latest adventures together. But if you do want to watch their relationship develop chronologically, start with “Firsts and Lasts at the Strip Club.” Like the previous installments, this one involves graphic f/f sexual activities, in this case over a video call rather than in person. There’s also some heavy f/m flirting. All characters are enthusiastically consenting and over 18. Enjoy!

***

“I wish I were going with you,” I complained, while I watched Dara put on her makeup for an afternoon shift at the Angel Room club.

I was lying on the couch of her apartment, wrapped in a knitted blanket, trying to preserve the warmth she had left behind in the cushions for a few minutes longer. The TV was dark, the obscure rom-com she’d shared with me this morning long finished.

“Can you imagine?” Dara giggled, pausing halfway through adhering a false eyelash. “We’d make all the customers so jealous, sneaking off to the Little Heavens together to give each other a million orgasms.”

It was nice to hear her joke that way about bringing me back to the club — sharing a fantasy, not making a sales pitch. When we’d first met, I would have taken it for a pitch anyway, no matter how clear she made herself, but I was learning to accept her affection for the genuine article. Dara was an excellent teacher, when it came to accepting what bits of niceness the world had to offer.

Not that I didn’t wish the world were nicer still.

“Stupid bank account, telling me I have to bring money in instead of out today,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, let me know if you ever figure out a fix for that,” said Dara, finishing her second eyelash.

“I just wish I could spend all day with you,” I said. “Or even that my job was a little more like yours.”

“More like mine how?” Dara asked, looking up from the self-lighting vanity in her living room.

I shrugged. “Glamorous. Creative. Edgy. Exciting?”

The last word became a question, as I tried to guess what her job must feel like to do every day. I was sure there’d been some point in my life when working in a mall food court must have seemed mysterious and exotic, before I’d known anything about what work was like.

Dara didn’t argue or laugh at me. She set down her lipstick and returned to the couch, perching on the arm in front of me.

“Sounds like you need a little bad girl assignment.”

I glanced down at Dara’s lacy purple thong and licked my lips. “I don’t know if we have time, but I can try.”

Dara put her palm to my forehead and turned my face upward.

“Not here,” she said indulgently. “At work. While we’re both at work today, I dare you…”

She examined my face for a long moment, summing up everything she knew of me, either from experience or from reading whatever telling creases she found there.

“I dare you to call one customer ‘babe,'” she finished.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end at the thought, and my chest tightened.

“I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” I hesitated.

“Of course not,” said Dara. “That’s why you’re going to pick someone who won’t be uncomfortable. Someone who’ll get a kick out of it.”

“How would I know that about them?” I asked.

“By being the gorgeous, empathetic soul that you are,” Dara said with perfect confidence, brushing my cheek with her thumb. “And by getting out of your own head.”

She pulled a dress over her lingerie for the drive.

“Oh, and I don’t want any half-assed, mumbling ‘babes,'” she said. “No slipping it in casually, like you call everyone ‘babe’ instead of ‘dude.’ When you see that person standing in line, the one who’s day you’re about to make by calling them ‘babe,’ you’re going to lean across the counter like a luscious dance move,” she leaned down with one hand on the armrest, “show them those knockout tits,” she cupped one of my breasts and rubbed a finger over the nipple with effortless precision, “look them right in the eye,” her eyes hooked their way irresistibly into mine, “and say babe like you mean it.”

I laughed, because it was the only reasonable reaction to the image of myself doing that.

“Okay, suppose someone does happen to come in who’s just dying to have me flirt with them, and I do get some kind of psychic vision telling me so, and I do it,” I said. “What if they take me seriously? What if they want it to, you know, keep going? What then?”

“That’s up to you,” Dara winked.

The pressure in my chest spread down toward my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if it feels fun, keep going. If not, stop,” said Dara. “It’s not like you’re married to someone just because you called them ‘babe’ when you brought them their iced tea.”

I doubted Dara intended for this to have any ominous double meanings, but my mind could instill enough possible meanings for the both of us.

“What about you?” I asked, kneeling up on the couch kilis escort and gripping the backrest to face her, urgently preparing myself for a momentous conversation that probably shouldn’t be happening in the last few minutes before work.

“Me?” asked Dara.

I collected the words as fast as I could. “Look, I know we haven’t really put a label on this, but I’m taking it seriously. And I kind of thought you were too. I wouldn’t want to do anything that… someone who’s serious about someone shouldn’t be doing. I don’t want to do anything to mess up–“

Dara hurried across the room in her high heels and kissed me.

“I am serious,” she said, holding my head in both hands. “I want you to be my one.”

“I want you to be my one,” I sniffled back at her through sudden, relieved tears.

“But I’m going to keep doing my job,” said Dara.

“Of course!” I said. “I’m not asking you not to.”

“And you know the kinds of things I’m going to be doing with other people at the club.”

“That’s for work,” I said. “It’s different.”

“You’re sweet,” said Dara. “But the thing is, I like my job. And I’m not expecting you to avoid doing things that you might like too, just because of this.”

She clasped my hand as she said, this.

I squeezed her hand back, as tight as I dared.

“But then, what makes us each other’s ‘one’?” I asked. “What makes this different from anything we might do with anyone else?”

“Doesn’t it feel different to you?” asked Dara, squeezing even tighter.

A smile crept up on me. “Yeah. But how I feel….”

“…Hasn’t mattered much in the past?” Dara guessed.

I shrugged, since nodding at this felt a little too pathetic.

Dara released my hand and rubbed my shoulders patiently.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I do have a few expectations for our relationship.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like, whatever we do, we keep it safe and clean,” she said. “We don’t lie or keep secrets from each other, unless we’re planning a surprise. We make each other a priority, always. And when we see each other, we treat it like coming home. How does that sound to you?”

I traced these lines in my head, pleasantly surprised by how well they covered everything. “That… sounds like a plan.”

Dara kissed my lips. “Great. Then it’s a plan.”

“Okay, so, run me through it one more time,” I said. “While I’m at work today, I have to…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Dara, opening the door and peering back at me around the side of it. “But if adding a naughty little challenge to your day makes it more interesting, you have one.”

#

I clocked in, pulled on my first set of clingy little plastic gloves, and asked the couple at the front of the line what they wanted, with my senses feeling strangely sharper than usual, my heart pumping faster in my chest.

Normally, my strategy for surviving work was to block out all thought of everything else. I didn’t complain, or sneak glances at my phone, or think about what I was going to do when I got off. While I was behind that counter, I was a machine, an empty construct running on nothing but company policy programming.

It was joyless, but also as close to painless as any method I’d found. I rarely got in trouble, and I didn’t waste energy pining for all the other ways I could spend my time if I didn’t have to be here, because I did have to be here.

Even on my first shift after I’d met Dara and gone to class with her (and stayed after class with her), none of my coworkers had commented on any extra spring in my step, or sincerity in my smile. There was a new glow inside me, for sure, but I kept it carefully partitioned away from the working part of myself, so that it wouldn’t outshine and destroy what interest I could muster for scooping meat onto tortillas.

Today, my partitions were broken, but somehow, I still felt capable of work.

It was almost like Dara was here with me, behind the counter of Pepperland, holding my hand, egging me on. Instead of a distracting wish about somewhere else I could be, the thought of her had become a gentle anchor, rooting my interest right here, to where I was and what I was doing.

What about that one? I could almost hear her whispering to me as I greeted each new customer. How would that one feel about it?

For the first couple hours, there were really no good opportunities. The morning shift was still there, overlapping with the afternoon, all of us jostling shoulder-to-shoulder to cover the lunch rush. At any given moment, fulfilling Dara’s dare would have pissed off at least five people, even if no one took issue with the flirting itself, just because of the unnecessary extra seconds it would have taken me to lean across the counter and catch someone’s eye.

But even the game of asking myself about each customer as they passed, imagining what it would feel like to try to connect with them that way, created an environment where kırklareli escort my habitual boredom couldn’t thrive.

One moment, I was savoring the thought of saying “babe” to a pretty woman with butterfly clips in her hair. The next, I was squirming with faint discomfort at the thought of saying it to a fatherly looking gentleman with a loosened tie.

This manner of working was not painless, exactly, but it sure did make the time zip by. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the rush was over, and the morning shift was departing.

With the line empty, Tyler, the shift supervisor on duty, sent Edith to take her break, and then stepped into the back to refill the cheese sauce dispenser himself. I was alone, minding both the burrito bar and the register.

Almost as if Dara had willed it into being, the next person to walk up to the empty counter was a young woman with asymmetrical bangs that highlighted one very cute cheekbone, and a T-shirt with a sly reference to one of my favorite TV shows.

“I’d like… hmm….”

She drummed her thumb ring thoughtfully against the counter. It was pearly white. A sapphic signal.

Or just something she thought looked cool.

“How’s the steak?” she asked.

“Tough,” I answered honestly.

“Chicken, then,” she said, with an appreciative smile.

I went down the usual list of questions, watching the pleasant curve of her lips as she gave each answer.

“I like your hair,” she said, as I rolled up and wrapped her order.

“Oh, thanks.” I felt myself redden a little. It was seeming more likely that she knew what her ring meant. And maybe, maybe, maybe, she thought I was just a little bit cute.

Or maybe liking my rainbow hair was just her way of acknowledging a fellow sapphic woman on sight, whether or not I was her personal type.

Either way, I doubted she’d be scarred or offended by a quick, simple “babe.” What was the worst that could happen? A moment’s awkwardness as she brushed me off and went on her way?

Fuck, that was still pretty bad, though.

I was ringing her up. I was getting her drink. This was the moment. I could feel Dara rooting for me from afar.

I leaned my elbows down on the counter as I handed her the bag and receipt, arching my back the way I’d practiced with Dara, pressing my cleavage up and forward.

“You have a good one, b… bye,” I stuttered out.

“You too, bye now!” the woman easily tossed back my odd choice of words with a wave and continued on her way. She was gone in time to avoid seeing me bury my now burning face between my forearms on the counter.

“Bri, you okay there?” Tyler asked behind me.

“Yeah.” I stood up straight, a perfect work automaton again. “Just stretching.”

“Well, stretch without sticking your nose where the food goes, okay?” he said.

“Of course. Sorry.” I kept my face turned out toward the food court, waiting for it to cool off.

“You can take your break as soon as Edith gets back,” said Tyler.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

He set down the cheese dispenser and turned to check the soda syrup, not sounding sure at all. He sounded unsure of me in particular, like seeing me make one mistake was a sign of the end times.

Tyler was only a couple years older than I was, but he had given himself over completely to Pepperland, and not just in the clock-in-clock-out automaton way that I had. He cared about serving Pepperland, and rising in its ranks. That passion had led him to perfect the voice of a superior, a voice that held your value in its inflections.

His possession of that voice had always made me a little afraid of him, but until today, he’d never directed its shame-inducing tone toward me.

I’d made my shift supervisor sound like that, and I hadn’t even managed to finish the dare.

No, I decided. That couldn’t be how this turned out. This wasn’t the story I was going to tell when I got back to Dara. The shift wasn’t over yet, and I was going to win this game yet.

I’d better get on with it, though, before the early dinner crowd started coming in.

The next straggler to approach the counter was, no joke, the single most conventionally gorgeous man I’d ever seen in person. Maybe my senses were a little overactive, but I could have sworn he’d walked right out of one of the posters in the windows of the trendy clothes shops down the hall. His hair was freshly cut, and he wore a clean tank top that showed off the razor-sharp definition of every muscle down to the waistband of his jeans. He took off a pair of sunglasses to look up at the menu, and smiled at me with an infinitely kissable mouth that brought a needed dose of softness to his otherwise chiseled face.

Everything in me said to keep my distance from this man, to fill his order and be as forgettable as possible.

This was someone who could have anyone he wanted. Who he wanted was almost certainly not me, and if it was me, that was arguably karabük escort even worse, because we would never, ever exist on even footing. And when it came to men, uneven footing always meant danger. If I caught this man’s attention, embarrassment was a best-case scenario for me. And whatever happened, I would have asked for it.

Or so everyone who took part in raising me would have said, anyway.

On the other hand, I doubted I had to worry about making him uncomfortable. He probably knew how to handle attention like nobody’s business.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It might not be Dara, but I pretended it was, and felt again as if she were holding my hand.

If it feels fun, keep going. If not, stop.

It all sounded so simple, the way she put it.

“Hey,” I said, leaning forward dramatically, chest first, to grab my next pair of gloves. Slowly, the way I imagined Dara would do it, I slid them on and fluttered my fingers, ready for the safe, oh-so-intimate contact of handling this customer’s choice of meat. I met his gaze and held it, feeling three separate waves of anxious paralysis come and go through my body. “What can I get for you today, babe?”

His face split instantly into a grin, and he leaned forward against the counter too, so that our noses were only a couple inches apart.

“I’d love one of those steak burritos.”

“The meat’s pretty tough today,” I warned him.

“That’s okay,” he said. “So am I.”

“Bet you are,” I said, eyeing his upper body a little more openly.

I put his meal together with lingering care, and even let out an ambiguous little moan when I drizzled the sour cream over the top, which he met with a gentle smirk.

“Practiced hands,” he said, as I rolled up the tortilla.

“It’s all about holding it at the perfect tightness,” I said, wrapping my hand as far as I could around the thick, warm cylinder as I wrapped the foil around it.

I didn’t think I’d ever made a customer smile quite this much.

He took his time signing the store copy of the receipt, glancing up at me from under his nicely long eyelashes, and my stomach flopped around like a beached fish, wondering if I was about to get another name and phone number slipped to me, and have to figure out what I wanted to do with it.

His fingers brushed deliberately against mine as he handed me the receipt, and I handed him the bag.

“Stay cool, sweetness,” he said, and left, as if he said that sort of thing every day.

There was no name or number on the receipt. There was a nice five-dollar tip, and a smiley face.

The clearing of a throat reminded me that I was not alone.

“Well, that explains it,” said Tyler.

I turned to find him watching me with crossed arms.

“Huh?”

“Why you’re acting so weird,” he said, nodding at the customer’s back. “New boyfriend?”

“Nope,” I answered, a bit smug in my honesty. “Never seen him before.”

“Sure, okay,” said Tyler. “Go on, break time. Get in your smooches or whatever.”

He sounded as disapproving as he did proud of his own permissiveness. That tone should have haunted my nightmares for weeks to come, and made it utterly impossible for me to feel good about “smooches” or anything else that might have made me happy.

But the smug thrill of what I’d just done was so tough and dense inside me, that Tyler’s voice just bounced off of it.

“Okay, thanks.”

I had my phone out as soon as I left the Pepperland kiosk, a text to Dara in progress under my thumbs.

Briony: I did it!

Dara: Congrats, babe

Briony: Amazing.

Dara: Did it go any farther than ‘babe’?

Briony: No. I actually thought it might for a moment, though. The vibes got intense.

Dara: It’s a high, right? Flirting?

Briony: Big time. My skin feels like it’s vibrating.

Dara: Can you get somewhere private? It’s dead slow here.

Briony: Semi-private, maybe?

Dara: Even better 😉

I rushed down one of the long employee access corridors that ran behind the restaurant kiosks and wedged myself into a little alcove, next to a drinking fountain. Someone else could come down that stark white corridor at any moment, but I’d be able to hear them long before they’d be able to see me.

Sitting on the tile floor with my knees pulled close in front of me, I started a video call.

Dara answered immediately, appearing on my screen in her Violet bra and panties, surrounded by the dim mood lighting of a Little Heaven room at the club.

“Are you being a bad girl like I asked?” she murmured.

“So bad,” I answered.

“Good. Can you guess what your next bad girl assignment is?”

“Is it cybering with my girlfriend while I’m at work?” I asked. “Because I really want it to be.”

Dara touched her fingers to her lips, veiling a giggle.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ve just never heard anyone our age say ‘cybering’ before.”

I shrugged away an oncoming blush. “It’s what my parents used to call it when they told me why I couldn’t have a bedroom door.”

“Oh.” Dara reached toward the screen, as if to touch my face in sympathy. She laughed lightly again, before I could feel too pathetic. “So, you have practice at this, don’t you? Sneaking a little treat in plain sight?”

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

Hi everyone and thank you for choosing my story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Remember it is written to arouse and get you horny, I’m not trying to win The Booker prize here. So yeah, enjoy. And let me know what you think in the comments. X Saige.

Olivia stood in her bedroom about to explode with the emotional whirlwind happening inside her. She was more aroused than she had ever been in her 42 years. The week since Olivia had hatched this plan had been long, each exciting day spent waiting for another delivery of her sexy costume and other naughty items, not having the gaul to go to an adult store. The recently retired school teacher and respected member of the community had never even contemplated doing something so daring, so outrageous. Now, as she dressed the anticipation had become almost too much to bear.

Her plump, hairy pussy was so wet she felt slick and loose, her thick labia dangled and got her wet between her thighs. Her creamy white skin was afire and as she hitched up her black stockings and circled her thumbs around the lacy, jewelled tops, her touch all but took her over the edge.

Olivia had always been, to use a cliché ‘a blonde bombshell’ voluptuous with curves in all the right places and was still in great shape for her years. Of course she had gained the odd wrinkle and line here and there but overall Olivia was happy with how she had aged, her legs were still slender. Sure she had looser, flabbier bits than she’d like and she had become more of a silver, icy blonde to cover the inevitable greying but she still had a body that could turn a head or two.

Her best asset, even back in her college years, had been her E cup breasts still full, firm and pendulous. Her areola were large, dark and pimply and no bra or blouse fabric was a match for her stout, thick nipples when they desired attention. Her tits were the envy of a lot of women, the stuff of fantasy for a lot of men. It thrilled her to know that dads…and some mums too for that matter would sneak a glimpse at ‘accidental’ button slip giving a view of a warm, enticing cleavage in the middle of a PTA meeting.

Olivia bit at her lip, feeling wicked as she fastened up a black underbust corset, the silky material felt sensual and seductive. Her breast thrust up high, perched proudly almost under her chin as It hugged her tight and stiffening her nipples and dampening her pussy further. Her whole body tingled with super-charged adrenaline surging through her veins. Her pulse was racing and her heart beat so hard making it difficult to breathe.

Her body trembled as she slipped feet into her new sexy black, patent leather ‘fuck me’ pumps, they had took her breathe away as soon as she laid eyes on them. She had sat slack jawed stroking the four inch red stiletto heel before trying them on, they looked so…imposing and assertive. The moment she slipped her feet into them she felt like a sex goddess.

Finally she fastened the belt securely around her snug waist and secured the straps, the coarse fabric scratched at her sensitive inner thighs as she secured them. Olivia’s eyes fluttered and she inhaled sharply through her nostrils, trying desperately to stave off her orgasm as the base of the strap on cock pulled up tight against her naked pussy. The pressure and friction against her already engorged clit was so divine and intense she almost collapsed at the knee.

Olivia twisted her hair up into a loose knot and fastened a red leather choker around her slender neck. She stepped, somewhat cumbersome, closer to the mirror to apply a fresh coat of waxy crimson lipstick to her plump, lustful lips and finally she was ready.

She both loved and cringed at the sight of herself. She wondered if she had the balls to go through with her plan or not, but the longer she admired herself in the mirror the more confident she became. She looked authorative but not too dominant. She felt powerful and so fucking hot and sexy her lust was now insatiable.

Throughout her married years, and certainly over the 6 widowed months she felt she had almost lost her feminine sex appeal, she was in fear of becoming boring and frumpy, a far cry from her slutty, insatiable college years. Olivia had, had a recent revelation…an epiphany, if you will and concluded that the rest of her life is still unwritten. There was life in the old dog yet and admiring herself now…she felt like a new woman, slutty and brazen and ready to fuck.

The mirror’s reflection was hard to fathom, she wanted to stay a while longer to idolize and adore herself. Her nipples were as hard as they had ever been. She smoothed her hands over the curve of her synched, taught waist and over her hips. Her calves looked slender and sexy, accentuated by the angle from the four inch heel. Her stockings bit at the soft delicate skin of her creamy thighs, making a sexy little bulge of flesh. In between her trembling thighs hung a thick, black strap-on cock. Olivia swayed her hips and revelled in the thrill of its impact against kırşehir escort her thighs. She tickled her painted fingertips down its veiny length then gripped it and stroked its thick shaft with a wicked, depraved grin.

Olivia was so nervous she felt she could vomit. She shook her trembling hands in the air and took some deep breaths. “Come on, you want this, you can do this.” Her heart was beating in her throat, she gulped it down along with the remainder of her sauvignon blanc with a smack of her lips. She took one final look at herself in the mirror.

“Ok Olivia. Let’s do this!”

***********

Olivia stood trembling at the entrance to the kitchen, she felt devilishly sinful, naughty and dirty in the cold light of day.

Nerves got the better of her, she was just about to back out and rush upstairs when she heard her best friend’s voice. “Ah, finally. What the hell have you been doing, you’ve been upstairs for ages!” said Trudy.

Fuck, no backing out now! Olivia responded in her head. She took one last deep breath.

“Ok Trudy. We’ve known each other for a long time now, good friends yeah?” Olivia said, out of sight, in the safety of the hallway.

“Of course. Of course we’re good friends? What’s up, what’s going on? Are you ok Liv?” she replied, sensing the trepidation in her friend’s voice. “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

Olivia suddenly heard the legs of Trudy’s stool screech on the tile floor.

“No, no. Please Trudy. Stay there. Please just trust me and do as I ask, just for a moment, can you do that?”

“What is going on Liv? You’re scaring me!”

“Oh darling, don’t be scared. Just sit there, close your eyes. You have to promise to keep them closed until I tell you to open them, ok.”

“What?..I’m….

“Oh Trudy please…can you just do it for me…please. Don’t make this any harder.”

“Make what harder? I don’t understand.”

“Please Trudy. Just sit, eyes closed and listen.”

” Ok ok…Jeez, what the hell.”

“Your eyes closed?” Olivia enquired.

“Yes…yes.”

“Promise!”

“I promise.”

“No peeking now!”

“Ok Ok…I promise.” Trudy’s heart by now was beating fast in anxious nervousness.

Olivia peeked around the doorframe to find her friend doing exactly as she had instructed. “No peeking, you promised,” she said. She tried to move, tried to step but her feet wouldn’t budge. Olivia calmed herself with a wave of her hands. With her eyes closed and a deep exhale she finally stepped into the kitchen. The sunlight streaming through the windows made this whole scene even more surreal and outrageous. Olivia’s heels clicked across the tile.

“Ooh, do you have heels on, do you have new shoes?”

“NO PEEKING,” Olivia blurted in panic, louder and more aggressively than she wanted to.

“Keep your eyes closed, just for a moment and listen….no interrupting. I need t…I want to talk to you. I want to help you.”

Olivia admired her friend as she had, secretly on many occasions. She was always envious of her ‘perfection’, her seemingly effortless flawless body. Trudy was a petite, effervescent beauty, the picture of health and beauty. Admittedly she was 6 years younger and still yet to battle all the things middle age brings to a woman…but still.

They had met when Trudy turned out to be Olivia’s tennis coach, they had remained friends despite Olivia’s short lived attempt at a new hobby.

While Olivia was blessed in the tittie department, it was not so for Trudy. She adorned a perky pointed pair of B cups…impeccable nonetheless. She also boasted an athletic body, sexy and toned with a tummy, ass and legs to die for. Beautifully succulent olive tanned skin; an inheritance of her Mediterranean heritage.

Olivia’s heart seemed to malfunction and falter whenever she was around Trudy, she always felt…better and happier in her company. Trudy always looked so good, smelled so good and was…all together….erm perfect.

“Help me? Mmm…you smell divine, what is that?, new perfume too,” Trudy quizzed.

“Yes. So….listen. NO Interrupting!” Olivia said assertively. “I’ve been practicing this speech and it’s no good if you’re interrupting!”

“Speech?” Trudy sniggered.

“Yes. So….listen. You know I love you dearly and would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship we have if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do. So what I am doing now is a great risk, huge risk…not to mention, potentially humiliating, devastating and mortifying.

Anyway, We have had some good times, you’re a good friend and I love you, but seeing how you have become so deflated and so dispirited lately. You’ve lost your zing, your sparkle.”

Trudy’s face turned quizzical and confused as Olivia spoke softly, taking her friends in hers delicately. “It’s been nothing short of heartbreaking to listen to you worry over your marriage, to see you crying…and I can’t take it anymore. I know you’ve talked about leaving him, but you don’t malatya escort really want to, you love the money, the lifestyle, you’d lose the house…etc. I know you love Mike, I love Mike.”

“I’m a little older than you Trudy, I’ve done the whole married to a workaholic thing, stuck in a sexless marriage thing…and look at me now, a wrinkled fingered, lonely widower at 42. And I know you too well Trudy, you couldn’t do an affair, sneak around. cheat on him, cheat on your family….but believe me in a few months when you’re sick of masturbating, that will get tempting.”

“Soo,” Olivia exhaled. “I have a solution. One which doesn’t involve cheating…we’ll not really. One where you can stay with the husband you love, keep everything together…AND get all the sex you desire, keep that insatiable little pussy of yours satisfied.”

“Olivia!” Trudy scorned.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she began to shuffle in her seat. Olivia lent in towards her friend, she felt her body heat. Arousal radiated to Olivia’s core as she inhaled her friend’s intoxicating scent with closed eyes. “Not long now, almost done, I promise,” she whispered seductively.

“Now, at first, you’re gonna think my proposal is outrageous, that I’ve lost my mind…I did. You may even get angry, you may never speak to me again…that’s what I’m risking, but I can no longer watch my friend wither away and die. I know this is the perfect solution….and when you know, when you think about it…you will too. That may be today…tomorrow or next week. But it is the solution……sooo.”

Olivia took a step back from her friend, feeling anxious, feeling vulnerable, putting her own happiness on the line, ready to be exposed in the middle of the kitchen, in the middle of the day. She quickly adjusted her breasts, now at peak arousal.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Trudy tentatively opened her eyes…and they uncontrollably opened wide as she sat there slack-jawed in shock.

“Surprise,” Olivia said with a smile. Suddenly Olivia felt a scorching rage burn from her chest, up her neck and burn her cheeks red with the most overwhelming embarrassment.

“What the fuck Liv…are you crazy?” Trudy shrieked as she vaulted from her stool in shock.

“Wha…wha…are you mad? What are you saying here, we become lovers? Is that why you asked me here for the weekend? Oh Liv, swee…what…oh Liv sweetheart,” Trudy replied, clasping her hands to her heart. “It’s very sweet and very brave. I…I see what you meant now, but you’re my friend…I coul…I couldn’t be gay. Is that what you’re suggesting? We become lesbians?..I..I..wha…!..what the fuck Liv?” Trudy said, her hands covering her quickly reddening face. She would have found the scene hilarious but for the shock.

“NO…NO…no. I’m not in love with you, not that way…no…oh jeez no! No not lesbians, this isn’t a gay thing… fuck. What I meant…my proposal is that I fuck you…with this…get you off. You stay with Mike and get off with me. Nothing more. Then you don’t have to cheat, I’ve seen you naked, I’ve seen your pussy.”

“Not that way you haven’t!”

“Well no..I..

….forget it. I’m sorry, forget it..I just thought, I’m sorry. Forget it.”

The pair stood, awkwardly in silence. Olivia’s face burned and tears began to swell in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She had never felt so embarrassed, so stupid.

Trudy simply stood shaking her head, but her eyes locked onto the new ‘appendage’ hanging, bouncing between her friends legs. Her heart was racing, her body trembling. She looked up and down her friend’s body.

Fuck. It has been a loooong time Trudy? She thought.

She couldn’t take her eyes off how fucking sexy she looked and her amazing titties and that..erm…cock? Fuck that does look good though…and DAYYM she looks fuckin hot. Her mind raced at a million miles an hour trying to evaluate the pros and cons of Olivia’s proposal but in all honesty the cock and seeing her friend dressed like a whore was all she could think of.

So…I stay happily married, keep the family home together and get fucked. Mike will never know, I’m here all the time anyway. She’s right….it’s not really cheating, it’s just like using a dildo…and anyway who are you trying to kid…your pussy is soaked so you can’t be that horrified. You’re desperate for that cock…admit it!

“Say something Trudy….or are you enjoying my humiliation?” Olivia felt her emotions rise, she was close to tears.

Trudy bit at her lip as Olivia’s fake cock wiggled and bounced off her thighs as she turned to leave. She felt a gush to her pussy as she eyed the thick, dimpled, swaying ass of her friend. Trudy wasn’t adverse to the beauty of the female form and had indeed had tasted pussy back in college, she had just never looked at Liv in that way. But now, with the shapely curves, the big brown nipples on those titties, the swaying cock, the stockings and those fuck-sexy shoes.

“STOP…erm…hold niğde escort on a moment,” Trudy suddenly blurted. Her eyes closed at her impulsiveness, her undecidedness.

The pair stood, still in the silence for what seemed an eternity to Olivia, her heart raced, her chest heaved, unsure of what was to come. Trudy, meanwhile, was busy contemplating, mulling the situation in her head, deciding how she was going to play this out as she topped up her wine glass. Trudy then turned and glared at Olivia with a look she had never seen in her Trudy before. Her demeanor was different, full of desire and uncontrollable, wanton lust…and fuck, she looked sexy.

Trudy walked slowly, purposefully towards her friend, her fingertips schemingly tapped at her wine glass. Its heady aroma filled her senses as she took a sip, she circled her friend slowly, stalking, analysing Olivia’s body, making her feel like quivering prey. The tension was palpable, finally Trudy made eye contact as she kicked off her sandals. Olivia couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Her pulse was wild, her stomach tumbled, her hands trembled, she hadn’t felt this feeling of excited trepidation for so long.

Trudy unbuttoned her satin blouse, it hung on her slender frame exposing her wide, boney cleavage. A quiet gasp escaped Olivia’s mouth as she caught sight of her friend’s naked skin. She unbuttoned her trousers, smoothed them over her ass and let them pool around her ankles. Olivia was mesmerized as her friend slowly stripped herself of her clothing until she was before her in only her sexy navy blue, sheer lace bra and matching panties.

Olivia’s pussy began to gush and soak at the sight of her friend’s body. She bit at her lip in nervous excitement as she admired the muscle tone of Trudy’s tummy, the slight line of abdominal definition to her cute little belly button, her pussy mound and pubic hair peeking over the ‘v’ shaped plunging crotch of her panties.

Not a word was said between them. The atmosphere was so intense, Olivia stared, fully entranced as she watched the muscles of her friend’s exquisite shoulders and dimples form around her prominent clavicles as she unhooked her bra. It flashed in Olivia’s mind how the pair had often joked about its requirement.

Oh f u c k m e e! Olivia muttered to herself as she watched the creamy white skin of Trudy’s breasts revealed into the light, the tender, delicate flesh of her underboob imprinted with the seams and stitching. She had no cleavage to speak of, her pyramid-like, delicate little titties jutted slightly outward proudly from her lean ribcage. Her areola were puffy and swollen, with deliciously mouthwatering stubby dusky rose coloured nipples.

Trudy’s thumbs hook into the wispy waistband of her panties that rode her hips, her pussy stubbornly gripped onto them as she tugged them from her thighs. Olivia’s clitoris throbbed and pulsed as she unashamedly lusted after her friend’s pussy.

Olivia was a little surprised to see Trudy had hair there at all, she had expected her to be waxed smooth. But she was delighted to see beautiful untamed wisps of pubic hair in varying tones of brown. There was evidence of maintenance to her outer labia that were waxed smooth at the groin.

Her wildly uncontrollable subconscious couldn’t have been more wrong with images of Trudy that plagued her days in the most inappropriate times, nor the night-time fantasies she conjured left her so wet when she woke for the last week or so.

Olivia was desperate for her to throw her panties toward her to feel their heat, desperate for Trudy to demand that she put them to her face to inhale her sex.

She felt the weight of Trudy’s stare burn into her soul. Olivia was fully aware that Trudy was enjoying, revelling in the spectacle of making herself naked before her friend.

With wine in hand her beautifully manicured feet gracefully stepped Trudy closer to Olivia forcing her back until the edge of the counter dug into Olivia’s back. Trudy gazed into her, her crystal green eyes ablaze with motive, with thirst.

It suddenly occurred to Olivia that this wasn’t going how she had thought, she was supposed to be dominating her Trudy, the plan was to be in control and have her begging to have her best freind fuck her brains out, but at this moment she was unsure exactly what was happening and how this was going to play out…and that was an electrifying feeling.

Olivia’s legs felt boneless. Her senses were afire. The pair were close, they stared at each other, their eyes darting, switching from one focus to another trying to evaluate, trying to read each other. Olivia wanted her more than ever, she had never wanted anything more; this was all she wanted for evermore.

As she held her body close to Olivia, her scent engulfed Trudy’s senses like a hallucinogen. She was out of control and falling deeper into depraved lust for her best friend. Their body heat mingled and merged into one aura. They inhaled each other’s laboured, passionate breath as their breasts heaved and grazed at the nipple.

This is so erotic, she’s so intimidating. Jesus, my pussy is soaked. Olivia thought. The feeling was exquisite, intoxicating and incomparable to anything Olivia had felt before. Olivia was frozen and in awe of her friend, she had never seen her this way, so sexy.

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This story continues Chloe’s timeline from “Riding With Dirty Girls,” and “Chloe Rides Again.” You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but for background, you probably need to have read the other series’ first.

This is a work of fiction. A figment of the author’s imagination. It is not meant to be big on realism. It’s a fantasy. The culture around world-class women’s cycling probably isn’t a hotbed of lesbian lust, but wouldn’t it be fun if it were?

All characters are fictitious, and any that are involved in sexual activities are over 18.

***

Chloe’s Return Pt. 02

‘Oo, Chloe, you’re SUCH a bad grrl. I love that you just come to me and ask me that. Of course I’m up for it. I’d never turn you down Chloe. I love how you do it to me, with such passion.’

I beamed. Helen is so irrepressible. Her spirit and élan are unquenchable. Even when she’s pretty beaten up, like now.

‘Think a couple of orgasms might help me to heal, actually,’ she said, with a wry grin. Endorphins reduce pain and promote healing, you know.’

‘Who says we’re keeping to a couple of orgasms?’ I said mischievously.

I was super-horny. Almost salivating. I was aching to get my mouth on her pussy, to lick her all the way to heaven, to feel her climax flood her body, to taste it on my tongue, and to savour her ambrosia.

‘Shall we go up now?’ I asked, a little too earnestly.

‘Yes, let’s do that.’ She smiled and my heart did a little skip. Oh Helen, how you fire me.

We went up and undressed without any further delay and she lay on the bed, still festooned with dressings, and a few spectacular bruises. I got on the bed and she parted those beautiful thighs in a breath-taking invitation.

I crawled up over her for a kiss, supporting myself on my arms so that I didn’t put my whole body weight on her, and we softly smooched, lips and tongues just gently caressing.

There’s a gorgeous tenderness to Helen’s kisses sometimes. Her mouth becomes a seductively soulful instrument of pleasure, communicating her feelings, drawing me in and making me want more and more.

I could feel my passion rising as we kissed, but I tore myself away from her magical lips and moved slowly down the left side of her body, where all her injuries were, symbolically kissing all the hurt places; her shoulder, her elbow, her hip, her ankle…

She chuckled slightly. ‘Do your lips have healing properties, Chloe?’

‘I hope so. They can certainly bring you the endorphins you need,’ I murmured as I began to kiss my way up her leg.

Her thighs are things of wonder. I know I go on about them, but I can’t help it. I’m besotted. They have THE most perfect combination; muscular yet soft, smooth and feminine. I shouldn’t say it, but they are even better than Licia’s. I love Licia’s, but they are a little more brawny.

I kissed my way up the inside of her left one, my whole body fizzing with arousal, along the subtle curve of her quads, and up the faint flesh-covered ridge of her gracilis as she flexed her leg slightly.

She sighed and squirmed a little as I reached the lovely little band of gooseflesh at the border of her vulva, and I paused for a moment to gaze at her pussy, beautifully pouty, with its patch of curly hair, like finely spun rose gold.

She parted her legs even more, and I traced a finger up the crinkled flesh of her inner lips, which were just peeping between her fubsy outer ones. She sucked in her breath as I collected her glistening moisture on my fingertip then sucked it. Mmm, delicious.

I used two fingers of one hand to part her lips, revealing her tumid little button, and I teased it with the tip of my tongue, thrilled to feel how hot it was. Then I trailed my tongue down into her honeypot, and back up, coating her lips in lubriciously slippery juice.

She gave a little ‘Oh je’ as I increased the intensity of my tonguing; lapping, licking, probing, and flicking, and I revelled in having my nose buried in those golden pubes, breathing her in as I ate her like an over-ripe fruit; the kind where you can’t stop the juice from dripping off your chin.

My own pussy had already made my inner thighs slick and slippery, and I hadn’t even touched it yet, but now I got up on my knees, bum in the air, and slipped the middle two fingers of my hand into myself. I was obscenely hot and wet and I could clearly feel the hardness of my clit against my hand as I plunged my fingers, full-length deep into my hole until the outer two fingers squished my labia majora.

Still gorging on Helen’s heavenly honeypot, I started fucking myself zestily, until my whole hand was a mess of gooey, syrupy girl juice.

This was all I needed. THIS. Kneeling between Helen’s dreamy thighs, gorging on her creamy cunt, and finger-fucking myself to sexual Shangri-la.

We stayed like this for ages, alternating orgasms. Each time she came, it made me come shortly afterwards, and that started her off again. It was gebze escort a self-sustaining cycle. Only lesbian sex can do this.

Obviously, it couldn’t go on indefinitely, but while it lasted it was pure bliss.

In the end, I had to stop because my neck was so stiff I could hardly hold my head up. Still, if that meant I might end up helplessly drowning in her, I might have just let it happen. But no, we were orgasmically spent. Don’t ask how many, I don’t have a number, but I think you could say, ‘an ample sufficiency.’

After such a sexual melding (I think we bonded at a chemical level) there was no way I was going to the other bed, and we slept as before, with Helen lying on her right side, and me moulded to her, spooned together in beautiful intimacy. Oh, wonderful Helen.

***

Stage 3: Almuñecar-Sierra Nevada. 118km / 3800m of climbing.

It was another hectic morning. The stage start was at 11am in Almuñecar, a resort on the Costa Granadina, which was an hour’s bus ride away, and we needed to be there for 9:30, to have time for all the pre-stage rigmarole. That meant an early breakfast at 7:30. Ugh.

You may wonder why we didn’t stay in Almuñecar instead of Granada. Well, Stage 4 was a time trial in Granada, and Stage 3 finished close to the city too, so Granada was the most convenient base overall.

The accursed alarm jolted me awake at 6:50, and I groaned and jumped in the shower, making Helen a little envious because, with her multifarious dressings, she needed to wash herself more “strategically.”

Some riders don’t like the early breakfast because they say they struggle to eat at that time in the morning. I don’t like it either, but it’s nothing to do with any difficulty eating. I can eat at any time of day (or night).

As usual, I approached the breakfast table figuratively rubbing my hands. I love a Spanish breakfast, and I indulged myself with three popular favourites; toast with olive oil and tomato to start, then a slice of toast with Seville marmalade, followed by a huge croissant (borrowed from the French, I know) and then polished off two coffees and a slab of cake. Who doesn’t love a country that has coffee and cake for breakfast?

I noticed Helen looking at me with a smile as I demolished all this with gusto. OK, I admit it, I’m a bit of a gannet, but I must be burning it, because my weight is remarkably stable between 57.5 and 58 kilos. I guess it’s one of the advantages of being young and doing humongous amounts of exercise.

The best thing about it is I don’t tend to suffer from the dreaded “hunger bonk” (running out of fuel mid-race).

‘Right, I’m ready,’ I announced. ‘Let’s get at those mountains.’

The stage started at sea-level, on the Almuñecar seafront, and started climbing almost immediately. It reached 1100 metres altitude after only 25km, at a pass over the coastal mountains, so it was an unusually brutal start.

A long undulating crossing of a plateau then led to a second pass, and a descent to the outskirts of Granada at 75km. It was then that the real fun started.

The stage finish was at 2700m, high on the Sierra Nevada, on a piece of road that was closed to traffic. Special permission was needed for the race to go beyond the normal “roadhead,” and this was going to be the highest stage finish ever in the World Tour, men’s or women’s. Quite a coup for the Vuelta Femenina.

Stages of the men’s Vuelta had finished high on the Sierra before, but only at the roadhead (2550m) never this high. The new finish, up a series of hairpins, made a dramatic finale, and I was looking forward to it immensely.

We got on the bus for the drive to Almuñecar, and I sent Licia a message; ‘On our way to the start. 3800 metres of climbing coming right up. Wish me luck.’

She sent back a thumbs up and a message that made me giggle; ‘Thinking about getting out of bed. Hard decision about what to have for brekkie coming right up. Wish me luck.’ Oh, she does do me good.

We negotiated the sign-on, the sorting out of bikes and kit, and a spot of journalist-dodging, and soon we were assembling for the neutralised start. There was a quiet air of apprehension.

This was the toughest stage yet in the women’s Vuelta — or any stage race on the women’s tour – and it wasn’t just the total climbing that was feared, it was also the altitude of the finish. Many girls in the peloton had never been to such a height (me included) and it was plenty high enough for the thin air to have an effect.

There’s a high-altitude training centre on the Sierra Nevada, at 2300 metres, where many pros go for altitude training camps. Well, the stage finish was 400 metres higher than that. It was a daunting prospect.

The neutralised start was the shortest ever; only 2 kilometres. No sooner had we cleared the outskirts of town than the flag was waved and we were off up the hill.

It was curiously calm. There were no attacks at all. The daunting toughness gümüşhane escort of the stage had an inhibiting effect, and no-one wanted to commit themselves so early. The peloton tapped out a robust climbing rhythm and everyone just sat in the wheels, with three or four teams sharing the lead as we gained height.

Although it was relentless, the climb had an average gradient of under 5%, so it was pretty easy as climbs go, and I just pedalled along, enjoying the beautiful views over the coast. Climbing like this on a bike is almost therapeutic, but I knew it wouldn’t feel like this by the time we were high on the Sierra Nevada.

Eventually, and pretty painlessly, we reached the first pass, the Collada de Cabra Montes (col of the mountain goat) and the road embarked on a glorious corniche section, winding along the slopes with stunning coastal views. This was truly the cyclist’s high.

I think we were all feeling a little high because when we passed through a short tunnel, everyone started shouting, childishly, just to hear the resonant sound. I guess you could say we were a happy band of pedallers as we started the plateau section and, finally, the attacks began.

By the time we reached the second pass, the Ultimo Suspiro del Moro (last sigh of the Moor) a small group of 6 had broken clear, but they would need to be extremely strong to survive what was coming.

As we skirted Granada, the break had a lead of 2.30 but then we headed into the mountains and the race really began.

An easy 10km up the valley of the Rio Genil almost lulled us into a false sense of security, but then the work started. We had a 35km climb from here to the finish — I think probably the longest ascent ever seen in women’s professional cycling – taking us all the way to the snowline.

The gradient of the normal ski-resort road wasn’t too bad at 7%, but they didn’t take us that way, did they? Oh, no… Instead, they made us first climb up to a village called Güéjar Sierra at 1000m, then plunge back into the river valley, then climb back up the other side to re-join the normal route, using a gnarly little road with sections of 20% and 21%. Cruelty.

The ascent to Güéjar was enough to start loosening the grip of some riders on the peloton, and by the time we started that steep climb to the Puerto de Hazallanas, some of the sprinters, and some of the lesser domestiques, had already been dropped, and we had almost caught the girls in the break.

The remaining peloton strung out as the climb began to bite, and an elite group inexorably started to form, consisting of the top climbers and the strongest super-domestiques, while others were distanced and left to fend for themselves. The 6 girls in the breakaway were picked up, one by one, as the leading group started to apply the pressure.

I was still in this group, and still feeling physically strong, but I had jittery butterflies. I’d never done a climb anywhere near this length, and I had no idea how long I’d last. The fear was real.

I looked around at the riders I was with; Tera, Zara, Lucy, Suzy, Pam, Leona, Elisa… all of them with way more experience. Impostor Syndrome was nagging at me again, and I knew I had to shake myself free of it.

I tried to think of Molly, of how many times she’d told me what I was capable of, and how many times she’d been right… ‘…one of the best climbers in the world…’ Really? Was I?

We emerged on the main Sierra Nevada road, and the gradient became more amenable again. The group, now consisting of only 16 riders, settled back into a metronomic climbing rhythm, with Lucy’s trusty right-hand woman, Olga, leading, and Lucy sitting pretty in the red jersey behind her.

Amstel-Rabo still had four riders in the group, and so did we; Zara, Tera, Marlen, and me, while other teams were more depleted. Leona had no team mates left with her at all.

The pace was sufficient to ensure that no dropped riders could get back on the train, and we forged ahead, all sharing the lead at various times.

We rose above the 2000m contour and everyone’s breathing started to become a little more audible, but the group stayed together. There was no talking. The tension was palpable. Everyone was just concentrating on turning the pedals. I still had butterflies. Who was going to be the next to crack?

At 2100m we reached the entrance of the main ski complex, Solynieve (sun and snow), but we swung left and climbed up to a col called Sabinas, 100m higher, where an older section of road was joined.

This road was built in the 1930s and used to go all the way to the summit of Pico Veleta at almost 3400m, making it the highest road in Europe, but in the 1990s, a barrier was installed at 2550m and the upper section was closed to cars. The old road surface still survives a little higher though, and that’s where we were headed.

At Sabinas the road rounded a hairpin bend, and became rougher and a little steeper. Everything izmir escort suddenly got a lot harder and I detected a wavering in the pace of those ahead of me. I came to the front and lifted the tempo again and riders started to drop from the group, one by one. The final selection had begun.

I was still leading as we passed above the high-altitude training facility, and up ahead I could see the sun glinting off the windscreens of a multitude of cars, parked at the roadhead at 2550m. It looked close, and after that, there would just be the final series of hairpins – zig-zags, switchbacks, whatever you call them — up the Loma de Cauchiles to the finish.

I was still jittery though. Being on the front for so long was a questionable tactic, but my foggy notion was that if I kept the pace witheringly high, it would discourage any attacks, and I’d also get rid of a lot of the group, leaving just a small number of survivors to fight it out for the victory. Maybe I could even drop them all before the finish. It didn’t quite work out like that.

Huge crowds had gathered at the roadhead, Hoya de La Mora (hollow of the moorish woman), all cheering enthusiastically, and I glimpsed a few Brits, waving flags and a banner that had my name on it. They’d been busy pre-race too: I spotted “Chloe” and “Lyoness” painted on the road a few times, which gave me a little lift as I led the remaining group of just 6 riders through the throng of enthusiastically cheering fans.

We rounded a bend and passed through the opened barrier onto the final, even rougher, section of road, and that’s where Zara made her move.

To be honest, it took me by surprise, because I didn’t think anyone would have an attack left in their legs at this point, but she wasn’t the only one: Lucy was straight onto her wheel, determined to defend her overall lead.

To a casual observer, it probably looked like I’d been working for Zara all along, doing a perfect domestique job and launching her for this attack, but I knew nothing about it. We certainly hadn’t planned it.

I was so unprepared that I didn’t immediately respond, but as I rounded the next hairpin and looked back I could see that everyone behind was struggling. It was down to the three of us.

I could see Zara and Lucy up ahead, both still standing up in a slow-motion ding-dong battle. Zara trying to drop Lucy, and Lucy determined not to be dropped. The gap to them was growing, and I had to make a quick decision: Settle for third, or try to fight back?

Settle? SETTLE?… the demon was back. Of course I wouldn’t settle…

I rose up out of the saddle and started mashing the pedals. My legs were made rubbery by the altitude, but I still had a little bit more speed in me. I wasn’t done yet.

I saw that Zara had opened a small gap over Lucy, but they were both sat down again now, both hunched over the bars, and their weaving and meandering spoke of their fatigue. That little battle had taken its toll. My confidence rose.

They rounded the next hairpin just a few metres apart, and as they climbed the next incline they both looked down to me, anxiously.

I was well aware of the psychological battle that was going on here; I knew I needed to look good and threatening, so I stayed out of the saddle, trying to dance on the pedals, but in truth just rocking and rolling. Hopefully, I still looked strong and scary enough to strike fear into their hearts.

I gained a few yards, and all three of us were on the next incline together. Now, we were all sat down and just grimly grinding. The gradient was probably no more than 8% but there was a distinct lack of oxygen in the thin air. It was brutally hard.

I was gaining though. I was definitely gaining.

There were only three or four hairpins left now, and snow lay thickly on both sides of the road. It must have been cold up here but I didn’t notice. My mind was focussed on catching Lucy, who I could tell was suffering.

Halfway up the next incline, I saw her head go down and I knew she’d cracked. I came gradually up behind her, agonisingly slowly – our speed must have been way down in single digits — and I moved left and crawled past.

Zara was within reach now and I was seized with the lust for victory. Team leader or not, no quarter would be given if I caught her. I was not in the mood for gifts. If I could win this stage, I was definitely going to.

We were between the barriers now, less than a kilometre from the finish, and I had 30 metres to make up. Another crowd of diehard fans had gathered up here, and they were banging on the barriers, shouting, yelling, and making a hell of a racket, as they watched this slo-mo chase play out.

We were both meandering wearily, unable to keep a straight course, tired bodies starved of oxygen, legs gone to mush, but she was coming back to me, metre by metre.

She wasted time looking back to see where I was, which was a mistake. Molly always told me, in this situation, ‘never look back, just GO.’ I gained a little more ground.

The finish countdown markers arrived. 400 metres to go, 300… I was so close. 200… 100… I couldn’t make it. She was almost in touching distance as she crossed the line, but a miss is as good as a mile, as they say, and I’d missed. Just.

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

“Ursula?” the attractive blond nurse called from the door that would take you back to the dentist for your annual checkup.

Gathering your things, shutting down you your phone and slipping it into your purse, you were kindof disappointed that they’d called your name so quickly, as you’d been watching one of your favorite videos in an all-too-rare moment of privacy. The video had, as usual, worked its magic and you were feeling more than a little simmery as you stood up to walk through the door.

“That’s such a pretty dress,” the assistant commented as you walked through the door, “It looks really nice on you.”

“Thanks,” you said somewhat shyly, noticing how truly pretty she was, and then returning the compliment, “I really like yours as well, I especially like that neckline, it really shows off your pretty necklace.”

“Oh, why thank you,” she replies smiling, “my name’s Jen,” and she offers her hand, which you take. Her hand is soft and warm, and her handshake lingers a second longer than usual as she directs her gorgeous blue eyes into yours. Peering into you. And what a smile.

You follow her back to the room, allowing your eyes to glance down her body. Confident walk, you notice, very shapely legs, great shoes — definitely not the typical clunky white sneaker type worn by most dental assistants.

She opens one of the exam room doors and stands in the doorway to let you pass, and you could swear that she stood far enough in the doorway so that your body would brush hers as you entered. Or maybe that was you that wanted to brush her body? Either way, the briefest moment of touch was electric. Your arm against her soft breast. That simmer you felt in the waiting room has intensified. You’re not totally sure why, but you’re also not resisting it.

Small talk continues, how’s your day going, can you believe this weather, I really like your shoes, the dentist will be in in a few he had an emergency root canal to do so asked me to get you started, go ahead and set your purse down on the chair there, let’s get you situated in this chair and you welcome the small talk because you’re feeling totally distracted by this woman. Her soft voice, her scent, maybe? A soft perfume that seems to fill the room in an enticing way.

You sit in the chair, leaning back with your legs up, smoothing your dress across your knees, feeling maybe a little light-headed, and not minding the feeling at all. As she gets you settled, fixing the little bib around your neck so she hovers right over you and you can glimpse down her dress at her breasts, she asks if you’re doing okay, and you reply, smiling, “Feeling a bit light-headed, is there nitrous oxide in the room?”

“Ha, no, but you’re not the first to ask that,” she says, somewhat conspiratorially, adding, “is my perfume too strong?”

“Oh no, it’s not too strong at all,” you affirm, “it’s quite…intoxicating.”

Her face is inches away from yours, you hadn’t realized until now how intimate the personal urfa escort space is in a dentist’s office, and she says, “Oh wow, that’s so nice of you to say, I think it’s quite pretty,” and tilts her head to the side and brings her neck down to your nose, so you can inhale her deeply.

And you do. And maybe it’s the scent, or maybe it’s the proximity of that beautiful neck, but you find yourself moving past simmery to full-on excited, feeling the start of wetness between your legs, wanting very badly to slide your hand under your dress and inside your panties to gain the relief you desire, knowing that’s impossible but feeling a need and beginning to wonder if perhaps the scent of your wetness might also permeate the room, and would she be able to tell?

Your mind is racing, and all you can manage to say is “Mmmmm that smells sooo nice” as she pulls her neck away and looks again into your eyes. She somehow manages to retain her professionalism, pulling herself together from being clearly a bit unsettled, and says, “Ok, let’s have a look, shall we?”

You lean your head back against the chair, and she brings her face directly over yours, saying “Open for me, please,” and in your mind you’re wondering if she means your mouth or perhaps your legs and you pull yourself back from the edge and open your mouth for her to look inside.

She slides her soft fingers in your mouth, peering in with the bright light from the machine above, and with her face just inches away from yours, softly saying “Mmmm, all looks very healthy and the perfect shade of pink, it looks like you take very good care of yourself.” You can feel her breath on you, you can feel her soft breast press into your shoulder, you can feel the wetness between your legs increasing.

You cross and uncross your legs, and with her face still right next to yours, she notices and asks if you’re uncomfortable at all. “Mmmm, no, it’s just, well, no, I’m okay.” Your hands go to your waist, wishing you could slide them between your legs but knowing you can’t, and won’t have a chance until you get to your car after the appointment.

“Maybe I can make you a bit more comfortable,” she says, and gets up from her stool to dim the overhead lights. She also, you notice, locks the door to the exam room. Sitting back down, she activates the controls of the chair, moving your head farther down and your legs farther up. “You seem anxious, is that better, is there anything I can do to make you more relaxed?” she asks softly.

“I’m not usually nervous at the dentist,” you reply, “my heart is pounding.” Softly, she places her hand on your chest, right between your breasts, and without thinking, you bring one of your hands on top of hers and press it firmly to hers, allowing her to feel the pounding below. She makes no move to remover her hand, and nor do you. As she looks at you, as you stare into one another’s eyes, her acknowledging the clear pulsing of the muscle in your chest sivas escort with a “wow, that’s powerful,” you begin to slowly, verrrry slowly move her hand to the side, closer and closer to your breast, until it’s clear it’s no longer over your heart.

Your mouths are dry. Her hand comes alive, gently squeezing her fingers. You close your eyes. Her hand begins to squeeze, to caress, to gently knead your small breast. The only sound in the room is a low moan that escapes from between your lips at how good her touch feels. She moves from her hand caressing to finding your nipple with her fingers. Your moan gets a bit louder as she gently circles it, then pinches it.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she softly stutters out, “This is not something I do, but you have me feeling, something, I haven’t felt in a long while…” and you feel her lips on yours. Electricity flows through your body. You feel your lips respond to hers, kissing her back. Encouraging. Allowing. Willing her to kiss you more.

She does. Gently slips her tongue into your mouth as she continues to caress your breast, moving her hand to the other one as well. You feel your back arch at how good her touch feels, at how soft her mouth is, at how hungry her tongue is. Your tongue slips into her mouth as well, and the softness of the initial kissing has turned to urgency for both of you. Mouths completely covering one another’s, tongues exploring, desire increasing. Your hand goes to the back of her head, sliding your fingers into her short hair, and pulling her face into yours as you kiss.

You’re sure that she must be able to smell the excitement coming from between your legs. Your legs cross and uncross again, and you feel her hand release your breast and begin to slide down your stomach. Her hand slowly approaches your waist, and she stops when she feels the waistband of your panties through the thin dress fabric. Tracing her fingers lightly across the waistband, side to side, hip to hip, then tracing down the side of your leg until she reaches the bottom of your dress.

Pausing as you continue to kiss, wanting to be sure you’re okay with this, she needs to know before she goes, and with no hesitation you bring a hand down to grab and hold her wrist, and you push her hand under your dress and then slide it uppppp between your legs until you release it, knowing that she knows for sure what you want.

“Your thighs….so soft,” her voice between kissing.

“Your hands….feel sooo good….don’t stop, please,” your voice, reassuring.

Her hand climbs under the dress until you feel her fingers touch your panties. You can’t help but shudder. She gently strokes your pussy behind the thin fabric, and you feel yourself lifting your hips off the chair, wanting more.

She gives you more. She gives you just what you want. She slides a finger into one side of the lace, pulls your panties to the side, and then begins slowly gliding her finger from top to bottom tekirdağ escort along your sweet swollen lips, getting them wetter as she eases them farther inside with each pass.

“Mmmm, your pussy feels soo soft and sweet….” She says into your mouth. “Does it taste as good as it feels?”

“Mmhmmm,” you moan in reply.

“Well, let’s see…” she says, and slides her hand out of your panties, and right in front of your face as you watch, she first kisses her fingertips, then licks them, and then takes them fully in her mouth before also offering them to you. You move your hand to hers and hungrily bring her fingers between your lips, staring at her right in the eye and licking yourself off of her, uttering a “See, I told you…” with a smile.

She returns the smile, and then returns her hand between your legs. At this point, your dress is pulled up around your waist, and she can see the beautiful black lace panties that you’re very glad you decided to wear today. Her hand now slides into the top and glides down over your nicely-trimmed garden until it reaches your wetness again. Your hips thrust up, and your hand goes to the outside of your panties, placing it over her hand to guide her.

Apparently, however, she doesn’t need any guidance, and she expertly picks up where she left off, moving her fingers to your lips, sliding them inside you as you moan in pleasure. Your hand comes off your panties and meets the other one at the buttons on top of your dress, and as she continues to finger fuck you, you unbutton and pull the dress open, then unsnap and open your bra, revealing your breasts, and she picks up on the message you’re sending, moving her mouth to your nipples as you squeeze your tits for her.

“Mmmmmm oh god that feels soooo good,” you hear yourself say, in absolute ecstasy at her touch, both of her lips on your nipples and her fingers, now making small rhythmic circles on your clit. You pick up on the rhythm, moving your hips at the same time, guiding her to where it feels best, and starting now to feel the waves start to crest.

One of your hands on the back of her head, the other on her hand in your panties, your body begins to shudder. To shiver. To quiver. To quake. Your breathing quickens and deepens, your moaning is louder, filling the room, you don’t give a fuck if anyone hears you’ve needed this kind of orgasm for so long, and as the waves start to crash, your body trembles and explodes, energy pulsing and emanating from your pussy, filling your body with warmth and pleasure, and you moan, “Cummmminggggg” as she continues the pressure on your clit then slides two fingers inside you and presses up on the inside of your g-spot.

And as your body fully responds, relents, and releases, you feel yourself give in to the extreme pleasure, and to a fantasy fulfilled, and you slowly…slowly…slowly recover your breathing and your blood slowly…slowly…slowly returns to normal as she brings her hand back to her mouth, closes her eyes and licks your wetness all off of them, then brings her mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, gently, happily.

After a moment passes and the room settles back to normal, she leans in, smiles and asks, “I think you’re ready to see the dentist now, shall I bring him in?”

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

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are consenting adults over the age of 18.

————

Near midnight on Saturday, a notification on the Headmaster’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen and saw the message: Activity in Room 9. That was unusual this late at night. He pulled up the camera feed.

Robin and Valerie were in Jennifer and Liza’s room. On the weekend, the young women were supposed to be in their rooms by 10 pm, and in bed with the lights off by 11. He streamed the feed to his large flatscreen monitor and turned on the audio.

“Let’s play cards!” Liza suggested, grabbing a deck from her desk.

“And let’s make it interesting. Look what I found while cleaning the chapel,” Jennifer shared excitedly, retrieving a bottle of wine from her backpack. “Lucky it was already opened, I don’t know how to use a corkscrew, even if I had one,” she laughed. She pulled out the cork and took a swig. “No cups, sorry,” she said, handing the bottle to Valerie.

Playing cards after hours and drinking stolen wine? What would be a suitable punishment? the Headmaster mused.

“So… what shall we play? Crazy-8s?” Liza suggested.

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s deal one card each. Low-card has to do a truth-or-dare from the high-card holder, and the other two drink… or take off a piece of clothing?” Robin suggested.

“Sounds like a game you’d like, Robin – at least with us girls playing,” Jennifer teased. They all knew the redhead’s proclivities. “But I’m in!”

“Sure, sounds fun,” Valerie agreed, taking a drink and passing the bottle to Robin.

Liza dealt the cards. Jen had the high card, and Valerie had the lowest. Liza took a drink since all she had on were her pajamas and panties. Robin took off a sock and tossed it on the floor. “Ok, Val, Truth, or Dare?”

Valerie considered for a moment. “I don’t trust that wicked look in your eye, Jen – I’ll take Truth.”

“Ok… What happened in the Headmaster’s office yesterday? Word is, you were in there over an hour.”

Valerie blushed enough that it showed even with her mahogany skin. “He made me… bathe him,” she confessed. “For an hour?” Jen asked. Valerie nodded. “… with my tongue.” The rize escort other girls looked at her with wide eyes and open mouths. “Why? What did you do?” Jen asked. “Sorry, you only get one question,” Valerie smiled.

“Quick, deal another round, Jen! Maybe she’ll get the low card again,” Liza said, handing her roommate the deck. This time, Robin got the high card – she stuck out her tongue at Liza, who shared the low card with Jen. Valerie opted for the drink and took a big gulp of wine.

“Dare,” both women said, even before Robin asked. “Ok – I want you two to make out,” Robin dared them.

Jen didn’t hesitate. She held Liza’s head and leaned over to kiss her. Robin and Valerie watched, smiling. “More tongue!” she teased them. Jen obliged, pulling back for a moment so they could watch as she caressed Liza’s tongue with her own.

Valerie got the high card in the third hand, and Jen got the low one again. Liza drank, and Robin tossed her other sock. “Hmm.. I’ll try Truth,” she decided. “Ok – when was the last time you masturbated, and how?” Valerie asked.

“Umm… this morning,” Jen admitted, smiling. Liza turned to look at her. “While you were in the shower. Oh, and I used my toothbrush – it’s electric,” she added, shrugging.

Valerie dealt. Liza received the high card and Robin the low. Jen and Valerie both drank, finishing the wine. “Truth, I guess”, Robin said. “Okay. Which one of us do you find most attractive?” Val asked. Robin’s blush was much easier to see with her pale skin.

Robin hesitated. “You’re all very attractive. I think… Liza’s the cutest, and Jen has the best boobs, but if I had to pick one, it would be Val.” Valerie smiled and kissed her roommate.

In the next round, Jen got the high card, and Valerie got the low one. But both were looking at Liza and Robin since the wine was gone, and they had to take off their tops. After watching the blonde and redhead disrobe, Jen turned to Valerie. “Dare, I assume?” Val nodded; she didn’t want to answer any more questions about her last punishment.

“I want you to suck on Robin’s nipples,” Jen told her. Val smirked, and gently pushed Robin down so she was face-up on the bed. She opened her mouth and tried to cover one of the girl’s large areolas, sucking in the nipple and as much of the tit as she could. Robin closed her eyes and moaned softly.

Without sakarya escort asking, Jen put her hand behind Liza’s neck and guided her mouth down to the other tit. Liza tried to follow Val’s example and sucked the nipple deep into her mouth. Robin wrapped her hands around both of them, holding them against her.

“Time’s up,” Jen said breathlessly, after a minute or two. She dealt another round of cards. Robin and Val both got aces, and Jen ended up with the low card. That meant Liza had to remove her bottoms; she was left wearing only her panties.

“Truth or Dare?” Robin asked. “Dare,” Jen responded. Val and Robin conferred quietly, and then Val said “Okay, but we each get to dare you; it’s only fair.” Jen nodded.

Robin went first: “I dare you to take off all your clothes.” Jen didn’t argue; She pulled her t-shirt over her head and wiggled out of her PJ bottoms and panties together. “You’re bare – even more than Sister Anne,” Robin noted, surprised. “The Headmaster said I need to keep it that way… long story,” she admitted.

Val got up and retrieved Jen’s electric toothbrush from their sink, and handed it to her. “I dare you to show us how you used it this morning – but I want you to show us on Liza.”

Jen had Liza move to the head of the bed and reclined against a stack of pillows. She spread her roommate’s legs and pushed her knees up. Liza closed her eyes but didn’t resist; she was pleasantly buzzing from the wine. Jen positioned herself between Liza’s legs, and the other two students crowded in to watch.

Without removing the young woman’s panties, Jen lightly caressed her mound for a minute or so. Then using her thumb and finger, she pressed the panties down revealing the shape of Liza’s labia through the thin fabric. Using the toothbrush, she rubbed up and down between the lips until Liza was moaning in pleasure. A small damp spot spread between her lips.

Jen pressed the back of the toothbrush against Liza’s panties over her clit, and then turned it on. The intense vibration was almost too much for her, and she squirmed uncontrollably. Robin and Val each held one of her legs, and Jen kept pressing with the makeshift vibrator until Liza’s legs shook and she begged Jen to stop. “Congrats on your first orgasm, roomie,” she said, smiling.

“My turn, Liza,” Robin told the girl, samsun escort helping her stand. “Your panties are soaked! Let me help you out of them.” Robin squatted down, pulled Liza’s panties down to her ankles, and helped her step out of them.

Her face was just inches from Liza’s damp pussy, and her eyes were drawn to it. She inhaled. “You smell so good,” she said quietly, looking up at Liza. Without thinking, Liza reached down and ran her fingers through Robin’s bushy red hair. She pulled the woman’s head into her, pressing her face between her legs. Robin responded by kissing her, and then couldn’t resist licking between her lips, tasting her.

“Jen… would you do that to me? With the toothbrush, I mean?” Robin asked. Jen nodded and smiled. Robin wiggled out of her PJ bottoms and her panties, now completely naked.

All pretenses of the card game were forgotten. Liza helped Robin back onto the bed, lying down flat instead of propped up with pillows. Then she straddled Robin’s head and lowered herself down onto the girl’s mouth. She felt Robin’s tongue pushing into her, a strange but intensely pleasurable sensation. Without knowing what she was doing, Liza began grinding her wet pussy against Robin, smearing her arousal across the redhead’s face.

Jen moved between Robin’s legs, and carefully pressed Robin’s coppery pubic hair to the side, so it wouldn’t get caught as she applied the vibrating toothbrush to her clitoris. Valerie joined her, just watching at first, but she reached forward, spreading Robin’s lips apart with her thumbs, so Jen had better access.

A few minutes later, Liza climaxed again, dripping into Robin’s mouth before collapsing next to her on the bed. The powerful vibration against Robin’s clit was almost more than she could take. She tried to bring her legs together, but Jen and Val were both in the way.

Jen could tell that the direct stimulation was too much for Robin, her clit had become too sensitive. Instead, she used the handle of the toothbrush, which was a much softer vibration. But Valerie wanted more. She slowly pushed her finger into Robin’s tight young pussy, and then began thrusting in and out, finger-fucking her.

Liza heard Robin groaning, and reached over to comfort her. Her hand cupped Robin’s soft breast, and her thumb played with her nipple. All of these combined pushed Robin over the edge, and her body quivered as the waves of orgasm surged through her.

Exhausted but happy, Val helped Robin pull on her PJs, and they said goodnight to Liza and Jen, who were curled up together on Liza’s bed.

When Robin and Valerie returned to their room, the Headmaster was waiting for them.

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