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I suddenly realized, ‘I might never go visit Lin again.’

We’re moving in together. I won’t have to go anywhere.

She had rented a nice two-bedroom, an easy walk to commuter rail, and an easy commute to her new job. Just outside the city, she found a good bit more apartment for a good bit less money, and in a quiet residential neighborhood.

I got there just before noon, following her map from the train, The building looked even nicer than her pictures had shown it. Smallish, just eight units, with a lot of single family homes on the street. I walked up the one floor to our unit, faced away from the street, and knocked on the door. Now our door.

I barely had time to set my bag down before she wrapped herself around me. First, she pressed the side of her head against my shoulder, just to get the most contact between us. After a moment, she tipped her face up toward mine, and it must have been instinct: I leaned down to kiss that sweet, soft mouth before I had any conscious thought of doing it.

Her grip loosened and shifted as we kissed, One hand slid from my waist to my hip. The other moved down a little, from my shoulder to that place under my arm, where she found that first softness of breast. (“Side-boob.” Gawd, that sounds so icky.) I started to feel that tingle in a lot of places she wasn’t touching.

My rational mind woke up at that moment. I leaned back and said, “We have some work to do, don’t we?”

After a moment, Lin released me. “Yeah, I never thought there would be that much stuff to unpack.”

She was well settled in, but the movers had left my stuff two days ago — now, a heap of boxes in the second bedroom. It wasn’t that much, really. A few things from my old bedroom at my parents’ place, desk and chair, and my books. Oh, yes, the books. “It’s not hoarding if it’s books.” And that was even before my grad program. Sometimes, I felt I was reading the way they feed geese for foie gras.

We stepped in, and I opened my travel bag for the jeans and t-shirt I’d want for the heavy lifting. Lin interfered affectionately as I undressed. She even undid my bra clasp from behind, when I wasn’t looking. I looked back at her, gave her a smile, and took it the rest of the way off. If she really wanted to see me bouncing all over the place as we worked, well, that was OK. She was bra-less too, but it looks very different on her.

The bed, nightstands, dresser, and desk set fell into place easily. For the moment, we just unboxed the books and stood them up in rows. I had packed them by subject, so that went quickly except for the few stragglers. You know, the ones that didn’t fit in the box with the others, or were the wrong size, or that had been in the wrong places when I was packing.

Lin got out a tape measure, and gaped when she added up how long the rows were. “11 meters? That’s how much shelf space you need?” Maybe it was the idea of anyone needing that much.

“I guess. Let’s call it 12 or 13, allowing room to expand.” We went out to the Home Depot for boards and cinder blocks for shelving — what grad students do. When we saw the standard sizes, we rounded up to 14 meters. Silently, I knew that meant “14, for now.” It’s books, after all.

The blocks filled the trunk and the back seat foot space of her car, and the boards stuck out the window a bit. I had to scrunch sideways to fit them and me into the car, but it wasn’t too bad. The shelves went together quickly, and filing the books went fast, too, since I already had them organized. Even so, it took a while and was heavy work. The day was hot, and we ended up as sweaty messes.

She asked, “Eat first, or shower?”

We had missed lunch. “Let’s eat. How does pizza sound?”

“Great. Mushroom and onion?”

“You know me too well. Sounds good.”

She dialed the order in, and I started knocking down the boxes. We worked together comfortably. For me, that means not getting in each other’s way. She rounded up the stray packing material while I worked on the boxes, then bundled the ones I was done with and took them out to the recycling bin.

We were about done when the doorbell rang. Lin grabbed her wallet and paid, then put it on the table. She locked the door behind her and stripped off her shirt t-shirt. That surprised me for a moment, but she was right. Sun filled the room, a warm breeze played through the window, and it was just us. And, as always, I melted a little at seeing her undress. I followed suit and, like her, hung my damp shirt over the back of my chair. Warm air on bare skin felt light and clean.

We didn’t say much as we ate our way through the pizza. My attention wasn’t much on the pizza, though, it was mostly on her. Skin a tawny tone, hair short and glossy, areolas like milk chocolate on butterscotch breasts. Sometimes, I feel like such a cow next to her. I have pale skin so veins show across my breasts, and they sit low and heavy compared to hers. She’d pass the “pencil test” easily — I van escort could hold the whole damn box of crayons. (Sorry about the language.) I guess it worked both ways, though. Lin enjoys my curves as much as I admire her sleek figure and slim hips. Her eyes seemed to be on me as much as mine were on her.

It wasn’t the biggest pizza we could have ordered, but not the smallest, either. I was surprised that we finished it off, and surprised that she ate as much as I did. For such a small woman, barely 50kg, she could sure put it away. Well no lunch and heavy lifting will do that. We sat for a moment, enjoying the aftertaste of the meal. Lin stood up then, folded the pizza box, and stuffed it in the trash. I did the same with the paper napkins, and put our water glasses in the sink.

I asked, “How about that shower now?”

“Sure. Wash my back?”

“Of course!”

I had seen a clothes hamper in our bedroom, so I grabbed our sweaty t-shirts and carried them over. I also stripped out of my jeans and underwear. The latter had been through the long trip here and through the afternoon’s hard work, and I couldn’t wait for fresh ones. I hung up my jeans and headed to the bathroom. Lin had fresh towels on the rack, her clothes in a pile on the floor, and water running to get warm.

I felt the air get steamy, and Lin stepped into the shower. She held the shower curtain back in invitation, and I followed. Once the water was hot, we turned on the shower. That first burst ran cold, but warmed up fast. I turned to face Lin, and she wrapped me in her strong hug again, this time skin to skin, breast to breast, and thigh between thighs. Hot warmed streamed down and between us, and I just leaned into the warmth.

Lin released me and grabbed the soap. She handed it to me, then turned to the wall and leaned against it on her elbows. It was “wash my back” time. I soaped up my hands and started on her shoulders. Her skin is soft and smooth, but doesn’t hide the strength underneath. I rubbed hard on her shoulders and upper back, and she purred contentment. I rubbed down her sides, too. I couldn’t really see it, but I felt the softness at the sides of her breasts, and kept working down.

Lin has slim but deep hips, and thighs that flow into them perfectly — the kind of shape that does the most for a long slit skirt. I soaped my hands again and pushed deeply into her rear muscles. Her purring got louder as I stroked, and peaked each time I pressed into that big dimple on each side.

More soap, and I knelt behind her. She moved her feet farther apart, creating a gap the full length of her legs. In the gap, I could see her little cheeks just below the big ones, and resisted the temptation to rub them, Not yet, at least. I started on her calves and worked up her thighs, soaping the outside, rear, and inside of each leg.

When I got to the top, rubbing between them did touch her labia. She cooed, and tipped her hip up, as if asking for more. I played a bit, pretending to wash.

“Lin, could you turn around?” She did, and leaned back against the tile wall. Already on my knees, I started on her calves again and worked by way up. When I got to he fold between thigh and vulva, she bent her knees out, to open up for me. The slit between her labia gaped a little, and my slick fingers ran down through that fold. I was careful; soap way up in wouldn’t do her any good.

I stood then, and worked up her belly to her chest. She raised her arms overhead, pulling her breasts up and almost flat against her chest. Still, despite the warm water, her areolas thickened and nipples as fat as my thumb-tip stood out. I massaged them far longer than cleanliness required, as her closed eyes and gentle smile encouraged.

I finally took the sprayer in hand and played with that, too. I rinsed the soap off her breasts, tummy and legs. Kneeling again, I said “Lin, open up.” Again, she bent her knees out, and I sprayed warm water up between them. Lin reached down and opened her labia, and I rinsed the pink petals in warmth. Unasked, she turned around so I could do her back. She reached around and separated her rear cheeks, and I rinsed there, too. I was embarrassed to look as closely as I did, but the little dark star between her cheeks captured my gaze.

Finally, “I think I’m done.”

“My turn.” She took the sprayer from me and soaped her hands. She pushed my shoulders until I leaned against the wall, then started. “Close your eyes.”

To tell the truth, I was a little turned on already, from my closeness with her body, and thought I’d be ready for anything. Her first touch surprised me, though. Slick fingers rubbed my neck, the muscles just under each ear, gently, then with a stronger touch. It felt far more intimate than anything I expected. I felt myself nibble my lower lip at the touch. (She’s reading over my shoulder. “You always do that when you’re excited.” I didn’t know I was that obvious.) From neck, to my shoulders, yalova escort to my arms — oops, I’d missed her arms, too wrapped up in the rest of her.

Back to the shoulders, then upper chest, then breasts. She slid her hand under one, and lifted it. My nipple, smaller than hers and pink, seemed to stare back at her. She kissed it, wrapping her lips around it, and a tingle seemed to radiate through me. Next, she soaped the upper part. Still holding it up, her hand slid along the top and sides, gently, over and over. It was almost hypnotic, and it felt right when her hand reached my areola and massaged that as thoroughly. Gently, with slippery thumb and finger, she tugged the nipple two or three times. Still lifting the breast, she used two hands to soap underneath. The same again on the other side, slowly and gently, as if she could go on forever.

I didn’t realize how worked up I was until she set that second breast down and worked toward my belly. And I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I released it. I kept my eyes closed, and lived for her touch. I missed her hands on my breasts, but I knew there was more to come. Massaging my stomach gave me a little relief, then she pressed the flat of her fingers into my mons. Up at the fleshy part, it felt warm and affectionate. Down lower, though, one finger pressed just where my labia divided. It took only a moment for her to find my clitoris, the ridge way back from the tip, and rub that side to side. It felt full and thick; I hadn’t realized my body had responded so much to her. Gentle massage for just a moment, and her hands moved again.

One went outside of my thigh, maybe to part of my bottom. The other slid down between my legs, in the crevice between thigh and my outer labia. Again, I hadn’t realized how full and pillowy they had become, not until her caress showed me. Her two-handed hold on my leg worked down and she knelt in front of me. The hand between my legs rubbed my thigh, but also pressed against my lower vulva. I even felt gentle pressure against my vagina. As she worked down my leg, I relaxed a bit, but tension returned when she started at the top of the other. Down that leg too, then she stood. One hand around my back held me close, the other rubbed my labia in long, slick strokes. My knees moved apart and started to feel wobbly; I put my hands on her shoulders for support.

“Your back now. Can you lean against the wall?” I pressed my elbows against the tile and rested my head where my arms crossed in front of me. The flush of excitement from her caress eased slowly as Lin worked deep into the muscles of my shoulders and lower, near my spine. Then lower still, where my waist tapered out to hip, and the big muscles of my rear. She stopped for more soap every now and then, giving me a chance to gauge just how much my body was responding to her. Then she’d start again and I was back in the moment.

My mind drifted until I felt her slick hand deep in the crack. She felt me tense. Her hand worked up and down in slow strokes as she asked, “This is OK, isn’t it?”

I remembered the last time she touched me back there. “Yes Lin, it’s yours.” Just saying that seemed to set something free in me, and I let myself enjoy this most intimate touch. Soon, I felt a fingertip touch the opening, and draw small, slick circles. I almost tensed, but relaxed into this, too. Lin found a slow rhythm: press, slick up with more soap, and press again. Press deeper. Just millimeters at a time, her finger eased me open. More soap, and the whole fingertip was in me. More soap, and it was truly in. I felt myself panting by that point, and expected her to pull out, but I was very slick already. Her other hand held the front of my hip, and she pressed all the way in. Not a stabbing motion, but a quick and easy glide in until the width of her hand stopped her from going any deeper. All the way in, and the pressure of her hand. Little motions, in and out, twisting right and left, and her finger flexing inside me.

Lin just held for a moment, and said “Squeeze.” I clenched my bottom and felt it snug and slide along her finger. I relaxed and it slid back. “Squeeze.” I did it again, and again, I felt myself slide along her finger. Each time I tightened my rear around her, I could feel other muscles all through my pelvis tighten at the same time. If we hadn’t already been under the shower, I might have noticed some dampness between my legs.

Lin finally let go of me and withdrew her finger, leaving an odd emptiness. She reached for the sprayer, and rinsed the soap from my rear. I watch her wash her hand carefully, the one that played with my bottom. She turned off the water and reached for a towel. She wrapped my trembling body, and guided me out of the shower. She toweled me down, all over, and wrapped me in a warm terry robe. She dried herself, then guided me to the bedroom and into the bed. My bottom still tingled; even so, I fell asleep in çorlu escort moments.

I woke about an hour later, still wrapped in a thick, fuzzy robe, and found Lin at the dining table, dressed the same. She looked up from her book with a big smile, and reached for my hand as I sat down. That’s when I saw the box on the table, wrapped in deep blue with silvery ribbons.

“Happy Birthday, Micca!”

“For me? But my birthday is tomorrow.”

“I have plans for that, too.” She pushed the box toward me. “Go ahead.”

I untied the ribbon and opened the wrapping carefully — maybe too slowly for Lin, but prolonging my suspense. The small box was heavier than I expected, much heavier. I shifted it back in my hands, admiring the deep purple cover and hot-pink embossed lettering: “Anna Leigh” in script lettering, then block letters, “Adorned.” I turned the lid back on its hinge, and found three shining objects in stainless steel. They were all alike, but differed in size. At one end, a flat disk with a wide, faceted jewel, pink, white, or ice blue. At the other, a heavy round knob with tapered end. The smallest was a little bigger around than my thumb; the biggest almost three fingers wide at the widest. A narrow neck connected the knob and disk, getting wider in proportion to the knob. The inner lid had a small logo, a few graceful curves suggesting a woman’s hip seen from behind. A small jewel was pasted low on one of the curves.

I suddenly realized what I was looking at. I looked at the lid again, “Anna Leigh Adorned.” Or “anally adorned,” as the logo inside suggested. The knob end of each one was to go in my bottom. Suddenly, even the smallest looked big. I looked up at Lin, and saw a pensive expression. She asked, “Will you try it? For me?”

Something in “for me?” melted inside me. I was a little nervous, but said “Sure. Just try, right? And stop if it doesn’t work?” I forced a smile to happen, and once I did it felt real.

Lin came over to me and, standing, hugged my shoulder. “Of course, Micca. We won’t do anything you don’t like. Not now, not ever.” I was still sitting, so leaned my head against her tummy, and wrapped my arms around her hip. That tingle came back to my bottom, and still glowed in me, and made me bold. “Now?”

Lin beamed. That was the reaction she hoped for. “Yes, now. Let’s go to the bathroom.” I got up, and she slipped the robe from my shoulders as I stood. She left hers behind, too, as she took the box and headed to the bathroom. I saw a bowl ready on the sink deck, and she filled it with warm water. The smallest of the metal toys went in — Lin didn’t want it to feel cold. Still nervous, that made me feel a little better. It also showed me how much she had thought it through beforehand.

“Could you lean over? Hold yourself up on the sink deck.” I bent over as she said, supporting myself on my hands and facing the big mirror behind the sink. (I almost leaned on my elbows, but my breasts dangle that low and the tile was cold.) In the mirror, I saw my hip tipped up, and her behind me.

She pulled a tube from the medicine cabinet next to the sink, unscrewed the lid, and put a big, clear blob on her finger. She laid one hand on my back, and said “This might feel funny, but you’ve felt it before.” Her hand on my back slid down to my bottom. A moment later, I felt her spread my cheeks with one hand, then the touch of cool goo down low. I startled and then relaxed. I saw my nervous smile in the mirror, and said “Cold.”

Lin smiled again, and focused her attention on this place that no one else had ever touched. I knew what to expect, so braced for the cool touch. Lin smeared it around, then pushed her finger into me. She pulled it out again, put more goo on her finger, and pressed into me again. With the slick lube, she was all the way in before I knew what happened. She rotated her finger inside me, a squirmy feeling, then pulled it back out. At that point, I felt like a spectator to my own life, not an actor. I had given myself over to this, and Lin looked comfortable in her role.

She pulled her finger back out, leaving a kind of emptiness. A quick wipe with a tissue got the excess gel off her finger, and she pulled the toy from the bowl. I watched in the mirror as it disappeared behind the curve of my hip, then felt it warm and hard at my body’s entrance. Lin looked at me in the mirror and began to push.

I felt it start to slide in, slowly, very slowly. As it entered, it got wider and wider. I saw in the mirror that my eyes got big, my mouth made an open “O”, and I started to say “Lin, it’s…”

Oh. I stopped in mid-sentence. “It’s in.” That was a lot easier than I expected, and the warmth inside and out was nice. Lin used another tissue to clean my bottom. I cringed a little at the feeling of someone else wiping me like that, but it was Lin.

“OK, you can stand up now.” I did, slowly, feeling it heavy and shifting inside me. Lin was still standing behind me. I saw her reach down and felt it wiggle as she touched it.

“Squeeze, Micca.” I did, and almost jumped at the feeling. Not bad, but different from anything I’d felt before, even her finger. “Squeeze.” I did it again, and the shifting mass started to feel familiar.

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

“Miho,” I slide in beside her as she fills an order for one of our regulars. It’s an iced toffee mocha latte – which, in my opinion, is an abomination to coffee. We’re already supposed to be closed but our regular just switched to night shifts and we’re willing to wait the extra fifteen minutes for them to come in just before their Wednesday night hospital shift. All that’s left now for us is to lock the store, turn out the lights, and leave.

Hopefully we leave together.

“What’s up?” She asks, concentrating on getting the correct measurements of flavoring into the cup. Our regular stands outside the door on their phone.

“Can I take you to the movies after we close?”

“Nope!” She says cheerfully, flouncing away to pass off the coffee to the regular without even sparing me a glance. I hear her tell him to have a great evening before he walks away and she locks the door. I simply stand next to the coffee bar, stunned.

“What?” I stutter as she turns the sign. “But I thought…”

“What, that we’re dating because I asked you to get on your knees?” Miho is looking at me, her dark hair framing her face. She holds the shop’s keys in her hands and studies me as I stammer. I hardly realize I’m playing with my choker until I see her eyes flicker to it. I drop my hand. It’s the only one I’ve worn since her and I hooked up in the stockroom. She saunters towards me.

“Love, if anyone is taking anyone out,” she is close to me now, inches away and looking at me like a wolf studies its prey, “It’ll be me taking you out on your leash.”

My stutter stops at that. I don’t exactly remember when her hands ghosted up my thighs, nor when she’d backed me up to the bar, but suddenly there we were. I don’t mind being pinned in place by Miho.

“Put your hands on the counter.” She says to me, firmly. I listen. I don’t think there’s a universe in which I don’t listen. Mino finds it very funny.

“Wow,” she leans up to kiss my chin, “that was fast.”

“You know I’ll do anything you say Miho.” I can hear my own heart beating again, hard enough that it feels like my chest is aching. “Especially when you say it like that.”

She hums a response. It isn’t any real word but it still sounds pleased. She takes a step back and studies me. I try not to fidget. In all my past experiences, I’m not to move unless I’m told.

I like it that way.

“Anything?” She asks. I simply nod.

“So if I said I wanted to bend you over the counter and fuck you until you couldn’t breathe,” she asks, “would you do that?”

“Yes.” I answer in a breath. I feel my cheeks go pink and hot under her gaze. She’s smirking at me and I can’t tell if it’s because I break so easily, or because she likes to see me like this. Either way, her eyes are shining with something mischievous.

“No talking,” She says to me. “The only thing you’re allowed to say is stop. Okay?”

I open my mouth to confirm and then shut it. I nod my head instead. I have the sneaking suspicion that Miho likes it when someone has a hard time staying quiet. I don’t mind.

“What if I said I wanted to make you come, over and over again on the counter kilis escort right here.” She leans in close and for a second we’re breathing the same air. “Then I said I wanted to put you on your leash and take you to my house to do it all again? “

My eyes go wide. She laughs softly.

“What? I only live a few blocks away. Only a few people would see you.” She stares at me, waiting for my response.

I’m comfortable enough in my submission to no longer get embarrassed over the fact I get off to ideas like that. And I’m comfortable enough to nod my okay at her. Apparently though, I’m not good enough at keeping quiet. Before I can stop it, a small whimper escapes my throat.

I whimper at the thought of Miho pulling off my uniform. The thought of my body spread on the cold countertop that her and I just wiped down together, her hand moving between my thighs. The thought of her whispering in my ear and biting into my neck as she tells me when I’m allowed to come, over and over again. It’s enough to make me shudder, that is the thought of her pulling me up by my choker and kissing me softly as she clips her leash – my leash – to it and pulls me out the door, into the cold night air. Maybe she lives only a few blocks away, but I would be exposed and completely at her mercy. And Miho does not seem like she would be merciful.

She swallows my whimper whole with a kiss, nearly crushing my lips between hers. I want to reach and grasp her face in my hands, feel her cheeks to see if they’re as warm as my own. See if her bravado is real. But I don’t. I keep my hands on the counter because that’s what she told me to do.

“Put your hands above your head.” She says and I obey without even thinking. She tugs at my shirt and pulls it as high as she can. Our height difference means I have to get the last few inches of it over my hands, but it’s no big deal. I cast it aside and stop, pushing her away from my lips, my fingers touching her chin. Her gaze instantly becomes worried.

“What is it?” She asks, bravado fading, “Are you okay?”

I nod and point at the glass doors and windows at the front of our store. Coffee Cup is a very well lit area during the day, mainly due to its front wall of floor to ceiling shatter proof glass. Unfortunately, with the lights on, anyone can see us.

“It’s fine, I locked the door.” She smiles shyly. “No one can get in.”

I shake my head and sigh, breaking my silence.

“They can still see us though.” I reply and suddenly she gets it. She just looks at me, something sneaky playing across her face.

“So what if they do?” She says and plays with the hair falling around my shoulders. She pulls my arms towards her and I gently wrap them around her neck, hanging them off her shoulders.

“Are you afraid someone might see you, lying on the bartop and submitting to my every whim?” She asks. I swallow. I don’t exactly have an answer for her. She smiles and ducks out from under my arms. Walking over to the adjacent wall, she flips the lights off. The only light left is the soft glow from the streetlamp across the way. At night, Coffee Cup at least kırklareli escort has enough shadows that any passerby would have to do a double take.

“Is that better Amber?” She ghosts across the tile towards me and I nod. “Good.” She says and pats the bartop. “I want you to undress for me and lay yourself across here. I expect you to be ready by the time I’m back.”

She steps up to me and loops my choker in her finger, pulling me to her level to suck on my neck. I think I melt a little under her touch.

“Remember, no more speaking.” She whispers into my ear. “And make sure that I can see that lovely ass of yours.”

She sucks on my neck again, hard enough to leave a mark.

I love when you do that. I think. I want to tell her. But I know it can wait until I’m allowed to speak again.

“I’ll see you.” She says and I watch her slide away to the store bathroom. I hear the sink turn on and I quickly shed my clothes, my work pants and underwear joining my shirt on the floor. I size up the countertop as I hear the hand dryer run. I appreciate Miho’s hygiene and then vaguely wonder how this is going to affect the food safety. I laugh quietly when I remember that tomorrow is the quarterly deep cleaning of the store.

She planned this. I chuckle and slowly lay myself down onto the island until my chin rests near the edge and the tips of my feet touch the floor. The countertop is cold and I feel my nipples harden. As I hear her footsteps approach me, I shiver. I suppose the cold isn’t the only reason for that particular reaction.

“You’re beautiful Amber.” I hear her say and suddenly her fingers are trailing up my thighs. Her hands are soft and she pushes my legs further apart. I see none of this, only feel her as she touches me in this slow and aching way. I watch the silent and empty street and our vague reflections in the windows. I watch as her silhouette stands over mine, feeling her hands touch my thighs, squeeze my ass, and graze over my back. I feel her weight lean down into me and she kisses the back of my neck. I try to turn my head to kiss her but she pulls back quickly and clamps a hand onto the back of my head, forcing it to stay atop the counter. She leans around to kiss me herself and then lets me go.

“Let me take care of you.” She says and I gasp as her fingers push into me.

Miho, is a tease. I learn this over the course of the next several minutes. She finds a rhythm that takes me just to the edge and when I can no longer remain silent, she stops touching me, leaving me to pant on the now warm countertop.

I want to chastise her for it, but I know if I speak, she’ll stop. But after the third time, I can’t help it.

“Miho!” I whine as she pulls her fingers from me again.

“No. Talking.” She whispers into my ear. I hear the sound of her hand hitting my ass before I feel the sting of it.

I shut my mouth.

“Is that okay?” She whispers the second after she does it.

“Yes.” I breathe and smile as she smacks me again.

I have a vision of her hands leaving pink stains on my skin, some temporary mark that proves karabük escort I am hers for the evening. It doesn’t make me any less horny. In fact, it makes the fact she’s left me hanging on the edge all the more unbearable.

I feel her fingers reenter me. She begins to push in and out with twice as much vigor as she did before.

“Since you can’t seem to keep quiet,” she says, a wave of fog rolling across my brain. No longer do I have space left in my mind for rational thought. “I want you singing my praise as you cum.”

It only takes a few more seconds for me to do as she says.

“Miho!” It comes out somewhere between a moan and a yell. “Fuck, Miho.” I add, making a few other sounds that aren’t exactly words. In any other situation, I’d be rather embarrassed, but the pleased hum Miho makes as I finally tip over the edge makes any feelings other than contentment disappear. As I gasp, she slows her hands, turning her fingers inside me and curving them into a hook. She starts again after letting me have a few seconds rest.

“Since you seemed to enjoy that so much, why don’t I make up for those other two times I left you on edge?” She says and bends over me to plant kisses down my back. I don’t have the breath to respond, only to moan her name as she fucks me on that counter again and again.

“Here, I’ll hang this up for you.” Miho picks up my apron from the tile and puts it in the back room for me. I’ve already dressed myself again, Miho having told me that she wasn’t keen on actually walking me naked across the block. I had a small laugh at her for it and she just pouted at me.

“Well, you seemed to like the sound of it!” She retorted, finally taking her turn to blush. I simply had just gathered her in my arms and held her for a bit before putting my clothes back on.

“Hey Amber?” Miho’s head pops out the door of the back room.

“Yeah?” I reply, pulling out a wet wipe to clean the counter with. She walks over, grabbing one of her own to help me.

“I don’t really like going to the movies,” she doesn’t look at me as she says it, just concentrates on the monotonous task, “but if you still want to go, I think I’d like to go with you. If that’s okay.”

I smile and toss my wipe in the garbage. She glances over at me and I gently touch her chin, tipping her head towards me.

“Of course it’s okay.” I smile and she lets out a breath. “And we don’t have to go to the movies, We can find something we both like to do.”

“Really?” She asks.

“Yeah, why else would I ask?” I chuckled and smile at her. “Actually, I was worried you actually didn’t want to,” I start meeting her intense gaze with one of my own, “which is a bit ridiculous considering you just railed me across the bar.” I motion to the newly clean countertop.

It’s Miho’s newly faded blush returns in full force.

“Yeah, well… you liked it.” She glances away and then back again. “I mean, you didi, right?”

“Miho, I don’t think there’s a universe in which I don’t like the way you make me feel.” I finally say and kiss her one last time. Together we walk through the stockroom and out the backdoor. She locks the shop behind us.

“Still want to go to my place?” She asks, carefully – almost shyly – taking my hand. But as I meet her eyes, I see something hard there. I feel my torso knot and a smile creep across my face. I squeeze her hand gently.

“Well,” I reply cheekily, “it is only a few blocks away.”

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

Pt 1: Dr Zoptic: Infallibility

A burley fireman bounding out of the boxy Rescue Ambulance left the motor running. Though dazed and unable to move, I managed to hold an arm up, but found I couldn’t climb to my feet. I expected he’d grab my arm and lift me to my feet. Instead, he grabbed a leg and flipped me onto my belly. I tried to protest but could make no sound. I was about to face something I feared more than ridicule. I was about to be raped.

My brain was beclouded. Who was I? Why was I lying naked sprawled on the cold, hard concrete sidewalk in the Central Avenue Urban renewal district? As my brain fog cleared, I was Erica Ehrlich, a law student third year at Capitalland University. I had come to the urban renewal area to pick up my friend and roommate Dr Rebecca Barton who was now director of Instruction in Emergency Response to the Sick and Injured. The push – ahead – program had catapulted her to that august directorate in the University Hospital after her graduation from medical school.

She seemed little jittery when I dropped her off this morning.

Together since I started law school here in Capitalland, I behind her back, had a secret pet name for my roommate. I called her Zaftig, my plump little butterball. She would have been a little too stuck – up to appreciate the endearment intended by the Zaftig loan word, pronounced Zoptic which embraces the idea of her eye-catching rounded proportions. As interesting as that is, at the moment I had more to worry about than etymology.

I had walked in on an emergency response exercise. Mistaken for a crisis actress, I had been pummeled to the ground and injected with a sedative by med students.

Shadows were growing and streetlights were coming on when I parked my dented up blue junk heap around the corner from the disaster exercise site. As I exited my car, I slung the red scarf over my neck. Looking around I was spooked. The area was desolate broken glass everywhere as I walked by boarded up brick buildings whose walls abutted the sidewalk.

Turning the corner onto Central Avenue, I was blinded for an instant by the last burst of light from the setting sun cresting over a rise in the street. Suddenly out of the shadows, a burly man held one arm. When I struggled, I saw his fist fly up in my face. I was knocked off balance and fell to the pavement. I felt a tingle when a scissors cut away the sleeve of my red sweater.

Stupid thoughts came to mind. Damn, I pondered, that sweater was expensive. When Zaftig chided me about the expense, I told her “A red sweater, Dolly, I use to symbolize the passion I feel for my chosen profession.”

Zaftig shook her head. “You have such interesting ways to string sentences together that I can never tell when you’re putting me on.”

A blond haired woman, kneeling over me, mumbled some words of assurance, as she tore open the sleeve of my red sweater to bare my arm. I felt the pin prick of a needle in my arm. I found myself in a cloudy world on the edge of consciousness. I could see and feel everything around me, the cool air hardening my nipples, the course broken up sidewalk against my butt. I was unable to move a muscle.

I felt my penny loafers whisked off. While the obese man held my shoulders down, the blond female wielding sheep shears cut up the inside leg of my blue jeans on one side, then the other and swept dungarees and panties away. Then, she cut my red sweater down the middle. In a wink of an eye, with my sweater, camisole and bra cut off, except for the scarf, I lay naked on the cold hard sidewalk.

The curly dark hair of the male standing over me looking down came into focus. Leaning over to run a fingernail along the scar that went down the hollow of my breastbone, he grimaced, “I didn’t expect a freak show. I don’t remember examining any mutations this morning. Do you?”

Still kneeling at my side, the female mumbled some comforting words before she turned to lecture the male, “Pectoral excavatum occurs in every 300 — 400 births, mostly observed in males rather than females, possibly because the condition might be concealed by the development of female breast tissue. The condition warrants surgical intervention in extreme cases. This vertical surgical wound eh–healed well.”

Geeze, tonight, I didn’t expect to be dissected and put on display as part of a medical presentation I had heard before. I was looking forward to a pleasant dinner with Zaftig which would melt some of the icy frost that crept in between us and lead to some kiss and make up. Instead, I was stripped naked and treated to a medical lecture.

The man’s haughty voice boomed, “Are you some kind of medical encyclopedia?”

Called to the scene Zaftig, Dr Baton, fell to her knees crying, “How did I get a real casualty in a play mass disaster drill? Why is this happening to me?”

Happening to her? I wondered, but I’m the one whose clothes were cut away and left naked on the trabzon escort sidewalk.

Standing behind Zaftig, a tall thin woman, my size and weight, hands on her hips wearing a bright red scarf and sweater demanded payment. “I showed up and was on hand, even if Emergency Response hadn’t used this mutant,” the woman pointed at me, “instead of me.”

To either side of Dr Barton the two first year med students were babbling that “we couldn’t have known, she wasn’t an actor in the mass catastrophe in a bright red sweater and crimson scarf when she came out of nowhere at the corner. ‘The victim’ put up resistance. So, we cold — conked her.”

On the street Central Avenue, coming up behind Dr Barton, a burly capitol land firefighter in a blue utility uniform took charge, gruffly dismissed the med students, “I’m sure Dr Barton will give you ugh — an A+ for courage in face of adversity.”

Turning to the shrieking actress, the fireman ordered her to go up Central Avenue to the command center to collect her pay. “You got a free ride,” he told the actress as he squatted to take my pulse with his hand, “on someone else’s ticket. Collect your pay before I change my mind.”

Rising Zaftig thanked the fireman. “My head was about to burst from the cacophony of the blathering medical students, pleading innocence, ignorance and inexperience.”

Looking into my eyes, the fireman diagnosed, “no serious injuries. She’ll ache and be groggy for quite awhile.” Shaking his head, the firefighter, grunted, “Veteran’s Day Holiday weekend — I heard they’re returning Veterans Day to November 11th — next year, year after. Regardless, people, even in emergency services or medicine, like everybody else, get sloppy a – trying to stretch that three — day weekend into four days.”

“Bob, I’m a newly appointed director. In my job, there is no A+ for the effort in showing a brave face against adversity. I really can’t afford this on my record,” Zaftig pled, “What do we do now?”

Looking around, the Fireman sighed, “Everyone else took off. Time to scoot. We’ll call a report in anonymously. She’ll get picked up right away. We have to bury this story. Rescue service’s positive public image might be destroyed by an incident like this.”

As Zaftig walked away with the firefighter, she turned to look around before she asked, “What happened to her purse?”

“How long have you been around hospitals?” the firefighter snickered, “Everyone in a hospital is an opportunist. Forget it! You have to be more concerned with preserving the,” he snorted, “godly image of medicine. Remember, you’re supposed to be Dr Do — good — bee, the guy on TV. The doctor is always right!”

I might have interjected `or is that Dr Fair — Weathers — bee?’ if I could. Sprawled naked on the ground, woozy with a blow to my head and reeling from drugs that I had been injected with, I found myself gripped in laughter, though I couldn’t make any sounds.

The interchange reminded me of a discussion I had with Zaftig I called her, “Naïve!” I exclaimed, “It’s all about money. Your august medical profession even more so than mine. The Medical Establishment nests itself in its own charade.” With a smile, I tenderly touched her cheek, “Not to worry, we’re part of the same pretense. The money governs, Dolly.”

“What happened to her purse? Are you sure you didn’t see it?” Dr Barton repeated her question. The fireman waved a hand contemptuously to brush her off as they walked toward the boxy Rescue vehicle. A few instants later, the boxy Rescue ambulance paused near me. From the passenger side Zaftig peered out and sighed. Then, the vehicle took off.

I lay there in a daze. The Indian summer October sun was gone. The grey light of twilight dissolved into night. I was aware of everything going on around me — every distant footfall, every car whizzing by, but had no sense of time.

I expected that the whole charade was a prank. The emergency vehicle that had carried Zaftig away would return. She would hop down and throw a blanket on me, help me up, bring me home and we’d have a good yuck — yuck laugh about it. Our friend who fancies himself a director will use the incident to inspire a skin flick about this.

My relationship with Zaftig had bloomed so much so I allowed Zaftig to lick my hollow chest — “I never allowed anyone, to touch me there,” I cooed. Less self — conscious I with Zaftig’s help got a job at the hospital as an anatomical model.

Toward the end of second year, when stag-flation, spiralling rents and other prices forced me to contemplate cutting back from a full-time programme, Zaftig called to my attention pay given anatomical models. “I couldn’t,” I winced, “You don’t understand. I’m deformed. That’s why I work hard flipping burgers to pay you rent. I don’t want to live in a dorm, share a room and bathe in a communal shower.”

“You’re embarrassed,” Zaftig reminded me, tunceli escort “As a doctor I see naked people all day. Let me be the judge of whether your body is so grotesque that you need to be in a freak show. Make yourself comfortable. Disrobe! Take off your clothes — all of them,” She ordered, pointing to a chair, “Fold them neatly and stand tall.” She chuckled, “Didn’t your mother teach you: listen to the doctor? She’s always right!”

Mechanically obeying undressing to exhibit myself, I laughed. Despite her claims of professionalism, Zaftig’s focus locked upon my deep crevice in my chest bisected by a vertical surgical incision.

“Pectoral excavatum,” I winced as Zaftig, recovering from a pause, lectured running a fingernail along the scar from my belly button to my neck, “occurs in every 300 — 400 births, mostly observed in males rather than females, possibly because the condition might be concealed by the development of female breast tissue. The condition warrants surgical intervention in extreme cases. Your vertical surgical wound eh–healed well.”

When Zaftig placed her left hand on my back and her right on my breastbone at the low point in the concave curve between my breasts, I jumped. “I’m not hurting you. Am I?” I asked dispassionately.

“No,” I wiggled my shoulders to show Zaftig I could almost make opposite sides touch. “Other girls used to make fun of me in the locker and the shower. My saintly father threatened the family doctor with sending me to St Athena’s of the Holy Virgins Convent School to force the bastard to write gym excuses.” I looked up to the heavens with a crazy smile. “There were many virgins at St Athena’s?”

“I couldn’t tell,” Zaftig made cute repartee, “from all the dental impressions I noticed on mammary glands in the communal shower.”

Not long after Zaftig reluctantly accompanied me to a law school party in a downtown local bar. “If they knew you, a director in the University Hospital, dwell among the gods, my classmates would,” I chided Zaftig, “fear you’ll rat them out to their own clay gods, the law profs.” We returned home drunk. Zaftig stripped off in front of me. I followed her dazzling fleshy curves into the shower, pinned her against the shower wall, crushing her double D breasts into the tiles, and kissed her backbone from her neck to the small of her back and then started to lather her butt.

“Five nerves that exit from the lower lumbar and upper sacral spine,” Zaftig orated as if presenting medical case in hospital while I left an impression of my teeth on her butt, “combine deep in the gluteal prominence to forms the sciatic nerve. Protected near its origin by gluteal muscles, the sciatic nerves cannot be palpated felt by touching or pressing on the skin, but this region, though shielded by high muscle and fat content, is one hyper-sensualized more responsive to firm touch or squeeze — or smack — than a lighter tickle.”

We crashed to the floor of the shower.

“When I was in the convent school,” Cuddling together Zaftig reminisced with her distant look, “the girls in the communal shower would chatter away about their budding breasts, bums and boys. Returning from vacation or a weekend home, the girls displayed dental impressions — eh hickeys — on their mammary glands like a medal of honor.”

“Doesn’t sound very virginal to me,” I shook my head.

“They’d talk about BJs,” Zaftig laughed, “It took me a while to figure out what that meant. They’d condescend to lecture me.”

“Sex education class in the communal shower?” I suggested. “Cleaned your bodies, with a dirty mind.”

“`We got caught putting out,'” Zaftig recalled, “the girls would say as they held their mammaries to display the impressions their boyfriend left, `that’s how we landed in here. What about you? Don’t tell us you really want to become a nun!'”

“And your answer?” I asked.

“Oh, I did,” Zaftig acknowledged with a sigh, “but I was afraid to admit it. So,” Zaftig paused to take a deep breath, “on a weekend home, I had my brother Josh leave dental impressions on my gluteal prominence.”

“A unique solution,” I exclaimed.

“Inspecting the wound, the shower sirens were suitably impressed,” Zaftig replied, “Ecstasy is a power trip. The tip, they told me is holding the key, limit your risk, keep your grip, stay in control. `Let him pop your top and nip at the tits, if he’s too frisky, a nifty trick, make him kick back, double quick, tell him to strip and play with his pole.’ They’d giggle, ‘don’t let him cum down south, take him into your mouth.'”

After our tryst in the shower, we awoke naked together in her bed. I was flat on my back. Zaftig was on her round belly propping her head up, bulbous breasts bobbing above the covers, elbows against the mattress,.

“My first time,” Zaftig confessed.

“Really, Dr Barton?” Giggling filled my voice. “You mean first time with a girl, don’t you?” uşak escort To her denial, an evil smile blossomed on my face, “you broke up with a long — standing boyfriend before I moved in.”

“Oh,” Zaftig replied, “He did try to introduce his phallus. I let him wiggle it in, but I yanked it out. Once, he was about to thrust his hips to attain coitus, I pulled out his penis and held it throbbing in my palm a moment too long. After he ejaculated on the sheets, poor guy profusely apologized.”

To my remark that Zaftig hadn’t found a man but a true saint who not only allowed you to jerk him off but also in offering to help you clean up. “Oh,” I laughed, “not here. I made him rent a motel room, the best in town.”

“You engaged your guy in tease — and — denial,” A bemused sparkling timbre entered my voice, “and made him pay for the room.”

“I couldn’t have allowed him here. Father would never have tolerated,” Zaftig explained, “even so much as outer course in these rooms.” Leaning over, Zaftig cooed, “Let’s leave old memories in the past and enjoy the present.” As Zaftig licked through the hollow of my chest to my belly button and down toward my mound, I, flat on my butt spread my legs to await her glistening tongue in my opening.

How long did I remain flat on my butt naked on the broken sidewalk of Central Avenue, I’m not sure. Then, suddenly that box shaped ambulance returned.

When the boxy Rescue Ambulance screeched to a halt to emit the fireman eyes enflamed, I realized that this was no prank. “You’re in for a treat,” the fireman with a crazed expression on his face declared, “I suspect a freak like you rarely enjoys.” At that, grabbing a leg, he flipped me on my belly.

Frozen in place by the injection, I was unable to move a muscle much less take to heels and run. My mind detached from my body. It was as if I were an observer.

This was 1970s. The minimum wage was on the rise scheduled to go up to a whopping $2.10 per hour. The push — ahead — program saw the number of women attending universities and professional schools surge. So too were offenses against women.

I started to analyze the law to the facts, like I was taught in law school. Under law of the time unfriendly to women’s complaints, `A man commits rape when he engages in intercourse with a woman, not his wife…’ Married ladies spread `em wide. Sorry girls, you must submit to your guy. Ah at least this burly fireman, a self — acknowledged opportunist by trade, was not married to me.

Gripping my legs and jerking them apart, the man boasted, “I do all the work so you can relax and enjoy it.”

Sexual intercourse become rape when it is accomplished “by forcible compulsion without her consent.” I don’t remember agreeing to this intrusion.

Instinctively, to keep my head from striking the concrete sidewalk, I, by using what strength I could muster, protected myself by pressing my palms against the ground.

By shielding my head from being smashed against the concrete had I `earnestly resisted to the utmost?’ What choice did I have? Men might argue that point in the `rarified air’ of the male chauvinist highest courts.

If all the other factors were present ‘any penetration however slight’ would constitute a completed rape.

Yanking my long legs apart had exposed my soft underbelly. His body hairs tickled my butt as he bellied up between my splayed thighs. With one hand he grasped me by my groinal crease. “I don’t have to look on a mutation.” Guiding his shaft with the other hand to probing my fotzie, he sought the opening to plunge inside me, declaring “the chest may be deformed but the underpass is warm and welcoming.”

I gasped as he aligned his shaft with my opening.

When Zaftig was still in school, struggling to pay rent, she and I played Nuns fully clothed in a soft porn film directed by a mutual friend. I recalled my lines shepherding a naked procession of new arrivals in a convent school to a communal shower, “Newcomers pay heed! A Christian believes in the glory and beauty of the majesty of the unadorned human form, designed in God’s own image and likeness, the very temple of the Holy Ghost …”

My temple was about to be desecrated. As the fireman sloshed around inside me, I concluded that penetration had been accomplished. Legally I had been raped. My attacker purred, “Hmm, such a wonderous connection like coupling a hose to a fire plug.”

I was left face down on the pavement until a vagrant threw his coat over me and found a police vehicle. I laughed at the police when they tried to accuse the vagrant of the charge.

My relationship with eh– Zaftig–Dr Barton was over. Zaftig didn’t visit me in hospital. Was it guilt for leaving me on the street or her insufferable pretensions to godhood? I don’t know.

Released from hospital, I returned home — I mean to Zaftig’s apartment. I no longer regarded it as mine. We passed each other in the rooms without saying a word until the end of the academic year. When I was fired from my part time position as Anatomical model at the Hospital, I turned in my keys to her apartment. When I left, I broke silence, “No God, hiding herself behind the curtain of silence, can admit fallibility.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness inside my bedroom. The moon and the city beyond were the only sources of light shining through the windows. Just like my living room, the entire outward facing wall was a large, panoramic floor to ceiling window, but not quite as grand. The motorized blinds that would normally cover it in the morning hours to block the sunlight were drawn all the way open. The view was just as good as it was from the living room or the rooftop. I noticed Sophia stop in her tracks for a moment as she saw the open window.

“Don’t worry, kitten, the window is mirrored on the outside,” I assured her. “And besides, we are so high up that nobody would be able to see us in here anyways.”

My penthouse was taller than any other building for several blocks. If anyone wanted to spy on us from another building they would need a telescope from half mile away, and even then the reflective windows would prove quite difficult to see through. I liked the it though, as it gave a sort of risky feel to bedroom activities without the actual risk of being caught by someone watching.

My room was quite spacious as well, so much that it made the king size bed on the back wall look like a child’s bed. There were several other furnishings filling the open space. A couch, chaise, and recliner gave me plenty of options for relaxing and reading a book from my library down the hall. The dressers and end tables of my mahogany bedroom set looked nearly black in the dim light. My bed had a large, ornately carved headboard to match the bedroom set and four talk, decorative bedposts. There were also some other, more adult oriented pieces of furniture in my room, but I kept those off to one side where it was a bit darker. Those were part of the reason I kept the lights off when bringing someone new into my room. I didn’t want my St. Andrew’s Cross to be the first thing Sophia saw when she walked in. It might scare her and make her wonder if I’d brought her to some sex dungeon or something. Granted, there would be a lot of sex in my bedroom, and I enjoyed dabbling in some rope play, and bondage, but I wasn’t sadistic by any means.

One thing Sophia would be able to see clearly though was the wall of shelves not far from my bed containing a large variety of sex toys. I enjoyed keeping them all on display instead of in a chest or drawer. It was easier to keep them organized so I could find the one I wanted without searching, and it was amusing to see the reactions when my guests first saw how many I had.

“We don’t need to use them all, urfa escort unless you really want to,” I said suggestively when I saw Sophia’s eyes widen.

I walked over to my bed, my feet barely making a sound on the soft, plush carpet. I sat down on the edge and beckoned Sophia over to me with one finger. When she awkwardly shuffled over to me, I pat my thigh with my hand, wordlessly telling her to sit on my lap. She complied, and sat sideways across my lap with her hands folded in her own lap, and looking down at the floor. I touched the small of her back with one hand, and with the other I caressed her thigh. Her skin was silky smooth, freshly shaven, and the muscles of her legs were toned and firm.

“Are you nervous?” I asked sweetly, running my hand up her back and rubbing gently between her shoulders.

Sophia nodded, still averting her eyes from my gaze.

“Why? Is it because you don’t know what to do with another woman?

She nodded again.

“I think you know more than you realize,” I said, trying to calm her. “You see, with a woman, you think about what feels good to you, and then you just do that with the other woman. But with a man, they’ve got different parts that you don’t have, so you don’t know if what you’re doing will feel good to them. I mean, chances are it probably will, because it doesn’t take much to make a man blow his load, but that’s besides the point.”

Sophia laughed. Her smile was so innocent and contagious, I couldn’t help but smile warmly back at her. As she sat on my lap, and my hands explored the lean muscles of her back and legs, I could feel the warmth and wetness building between my legs. As I caressed her thighs, my hand crept closer to her sex and I could feel a slight warmth radiating from her too.

Feeling she was getting a little more comfortable with the situation, I moved my hand from her thighs to her stomach and then up to her firm, perky breasts. I took one in my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and kissed her other breast. I planted a few more delicate kisses in a circle around her nipple, then one directly in it before taking her nipple into my mouth. I heard Sophia gasp faintly as I swirled my tongue around the little nub, feeling it harden in my mouth. I sucked gently on it, feeling her chest rise as she began to breathe more deeply.

My hand let go of her breast and meandered downward. Her thighs were clamped together as she sat on my lap, so I wriggled my fingers between them and she opened her legs slightly. I slid my fingers sivas escort down, feeling her smooth lips to see if I was a rousing her yet, and sure enough I could feel a dampness as my middle finger parted her folds. I pulled my head back from her breast and released her nipple with a popping sound.

“Does that feel good?” I asked, already knowing the answer when I looked up to see her eyes closed and her head up.

“Mm-hm,” Sophia hummed.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Mm-hm,” She hummed again.

I pulled my hand out from between her legs.

“Do you want me to keep going?” I asked again, my tone a bit stern to imply her answer wasn’t quite what I wanted to hear.

“Umm, yes please, Miss Rose,” Sophia said, tensing up a bit.

Now that she’d gotten comfortable I had to remind her that I still had all the control. Good behavior would be rewarded with pleasure, but I held the power to deny her that pleasure if she didn’t say what I wanted to hear or act the way I wanted her to act. And now that I’d given her just a small taste, she’d want more and would be more willing to submit to my control to get it.

“As you wish,” I said, smiling devilishly as my hand returned to her mound.

My fingers quickly found her clit and I began to rub slow circles. I pinched the little bean between the tips of my middle and ring ringers and applied a gentle pressure as I swirled it around. Sophia’s eyes closed again and she gasped, a little louder than before. As she gasped, I latched onto her nipple again and was rewarded with a soft whimpering moan. Her breaths quickened as I massaged her clit and sucked on her nipple. I could feel her getting wetter as I worked my fingers in circles. Every few breaths she would let out an adorable little moan and it wasn’t long before I was soaked as well, feeling a damp spot form on the sheets where I sat. Sophia’s fit and petite body was just so intoxicating that I had to stop myself from getting aggressive to quickly.

But even still, I twisted her around suddenly, laying her on her back on the bed. She yelped in surprise as she bounced on the mattress and I climbed over her. I leaned down and attacked her neck, leaving wet, sloppy kisses down to her collarbone. My trail of kisses traced a path down her chest, between the small mounds of her breasts and over her flat, sexy belly. But when I reached her womanhood, I had to stop myself. I paused, and pulled away, kneeling on the floor between her legs which were dangling off the edge of the bed. My hands held onto tekirdağ escort the insides of her legs, holding them apart, giving me a perfect view of her pristine, virgin pussy. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Rose,’ I said to myself. I almost lost control to my libido. I wanted to taste Sophia so badly, but I had to remember the contract. Oral sex with a subsequent orgasm would complete the contract and Sophia would no longer be mine. It was too soon to be over already. I needed to be patient. Good things come to those who wait.

“Would you like to try a toy?” I asked, letting go of Sophia’s thighs and sitting back on my heels. “Maybe a vibrator? Have you ever used a vibrator?”

Sophia propped herself up on her elbows to look at me, biting her lower lip. She was clearly starting to get into it now.

“I, um, no, I don’t have any toys,” she replied. “I was too afraid to get any in case my parents ever found them and thought I was having sex, which they didn’t approve of.”

“Wait, so what did they think about you signing up for the Virtue Auction?” I asked, looking confused and trying to piece things together.

“They don’t know about it,” Sophia said, sitting up and looking ashamed. “I never told them. They think I’m out with my friends tonight. Told them I was probably gonna crash at their place. That’s why I was surprised when you said this would last all weekend. I don’t know what I’m going to tell them when I don’t come home tomorrow.”

“You naughty little girl!” I exclaimed with a smile. “Don’t worry though, we’ll figure out something to tell them in the morning. But I’m proud of you for having the courage to do this. Anyways, how about that toy?”

Sophia smiled and nodded.

“Go ahead and pick one,” I said. “Vibrators are on the middle shelf. You’ve masturbated before though, right?”

“Yeah, but not often,” she answered, standing up and walking over to my toy shelves against the wall.

“And have you given yourself orgasms before?” I asked. “It’s ok if you haven’t yet. It’s not always intuitive, and some women don’t learn how for many years. Everyone’s body reacts differently to sexual stimulation.”

“Yeah, I have a few times, I think,” Sophia said, browsing my selection of vibrators, turning them on and off to feel the intensity.

Finally she picked one and came back to the bed. I stood up and looked at the one she’d chosen. It was one of my smaller wands, only a little bigger than my hand with a small head about the size of a golf ball. It probably looked less intimidating that my full size wands, and it was not as strong. A perfect starter toy.

“Good choice!” I said excitedly, taking the wand from her. “But if you’re not sure you’ve had an orgasm before, I will guarantee that you will know what they feel like after tonight.”

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

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

Author’s Note: Although ratings are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave one. Thank you.

Spring 2004

“Welcome back to Good Morning USA, and for those of you just joining us, I’m Sheila Parker, filling in for your regular host, Annette Ryan, who has been sidelined this week with a mild case of the flu. Feel better, Annette, everyone here at GMU misses you terribly,” the blonde-haired woman in green said to both the studio audience spread out across the large sound stage and the multitude watching on their television screens at home. “Joining us in our next half hour are some old friends who really don’t need any introduction, the cast of that classic late 80s sitcom, 19 Garden Place. They’ll be here to talk about their new film — Return to Garden Place, which will be premiering on this Network on Friday night.”

Briefly turning away from the audience to the five empty director chairs laid out behind her, Sheila glanced at her image in the large offstage monitor to check her appearance, once again feeling pleased that she had worn the bright green dress instead of that drab blue one that the show’s fashion coordinator had laid out for her. Then, making sure that her professional smile was firmly in place, the forty-six-year-old turned back to the crowd.

Like so much about Sheila, the smile was a fabrication and she really didn’t miss Annette Ryan at all. In fact, her most fervent wish was that the long-time star of GMU might have a relapse, or even better, come down with something that might prevent her from returning to the show permanently. It never occurred to the second-rate personality that, if that were ever to come to pass, she would hardly be the one that the producers of the top-rated morning show would pass the baton to.

Catching a hand signal from the wings that her guests were ready, Sheila disregarded the introduction she had just read off the teleprompter, as well as the stage director’s intention for the cast to walk onstage en masse, and proceeded to introduce each actor and the role they played in both the old show and the upcoming film. Regardless of what the Network thought, Garden Place was hardly a classic and the cast hardly old friends — especially one in particular. If it had been up to her, they wouldn’t have been on the show at all.

“Kaitlyn Giordano,” Sheila cried out as a thirty-five-year-old brunette with shoulder length hair stepped out on stage. Only five two and a hundred and twenty-four pounds, the actress who had played Cyndi Reynolds on the original show wore a form fitting, short sleeved white dress that showed off her prominent bust. Over the course of the show’s original eight-year run, viewers had appreciably watched her character go from an awkward preteen to a rapidly developing adolescent and finally, by the time the show ended, a stunning young woman.

As Kaitlyn took her seat in the first chair, the second member of the ensemble appeared. Doreen Young was fifty-eight, stood five seven and although taller than her co-star, actually weighed a few pounds less. Her short black hair barely extended to her neck line, around which she wore a small string of pearls that accented the simple sleeveless navy-blue dress she wore. She had played Louise Reynolds, Cyndi’s mother on the series.

Next came Delores Grant, who played Harriet Lee, grandmother and mother to the two previous characters. Also five two, the seventy-nine-year old’s list of acting credits dated back to the early fifties and her role on Our Little Family, one of the first sitcoms. Dressed in a multi-colored full-length dress, the slim actress projected that same aura of sexuality that had defined her long career.

Nearly seven decades separated Delores and the next arrival. Starring in her first film, Emily Carr was a new addition to the cast, playing the role of Kari Thomas, Cyndi’s daughter. Already a veteran of a half-dozen commercials, the thirteen-year-old was dressed simply in a light blue blouse and denim skirt.

Last to appear was Spencer Morgan, Martin Thomas on the series. Five ten and two hundred pounds, he filled out his sports shirt and slacks with a muscular build that seemed incongruous, given his actual age of fifty-seven. A few bits of gray dotted his hair and tightly trimmed beard, but both only seemed to add to his appeal.

Fans of the show, and there were far more than Sheila imagined, would remember that it had revolved around the residents of a three-story walkup owned by Louis Reynolds and her mother. Louise, who was divorced, shared the first floor with her teenage daughter while Harriet occupied the small attic apartment. Sandwiched in between was Martin and his own teenage son, Alan.

The reunion film picked up fifteen years after the show’s final episode and not much had changed at Garden Place, other than Harriet having moved to a senior living facility, which allowed Delores to limit her role to just mersin escort a cameo. Cyndi now lived on the first floor with Kari, and Louise had moved to the attic. Martin still occupied his old place, but now he shared it with a previously unmentioned nephew who had just retired from the Army.

Sheila kept to the questions on the small index cards provided by the staff for the first few minutes of the interview, directing most of them to Kaitlyn, who was not only the star of the film but also executive producer. The last of her inquiries allowed Kaitlyn to explain that Tom Reed, who was playing Mike Reeve, Martin’s nephew, had been unable to make the show due to a prior commitment.

“Now that you brought it up,” Sheila said, having been waiting for an opening to interject a little controversy to spice up the fluff piece, “I’m sure many fans are curious as to why you added a new potential love interest to the show, rather than have Boyd Hudson return in the role of Alan Thomas. Didn’t your two characters get married in the series finale?”

If Sheila had expected the question to catch Kaitlyn off guard, she was sorely disappointed. Without missing a beat, the veteran of three television shows and nearly a dozen cinematic features gave a well-practiced reply.

“The writers did consider bringing back Boyd,” Kaitlyn replied, “but since the original dynamic of the show was that of a single mom raising her daughter, they decided to stay with it. After all, if it ain’t broke, why fix it?”

“So, like her mother, Cyndi couldn’t make her marriage work?” Sheila interjected, still trying to get a reaction out of Kaitlyn.

“Actually, she’s a widow,” Kaitlyn pointed out, showing that Sheila hadn’t done her homework on the new film. “Part of the backstory is that Alan was killed in a car crash, which was what necessitated Cyndi moving back to Garden Place.”

What Kaitlyn didn’t say was that not bringing back Boyd Hudson was one decision that all of the original cast heartily agreed with. Boyd, who was two years younger than Kaitlyn, even though their characters were supposed to be the same age, had been viewed as precocious when the series had first started. Over the years, however, he’d grown into an obnoxious young man and managed to antagonize just about everyone on the set. In the years since the series ended, Boyd had managed to get himself fired off two other shows, and from what anyone had heard, he was currently working at his brother’s car dealership back in Indiana. In the first drafts of the script, Alan and Cyndi were simply supposed to be divorced, but Kaitlyn had insisted that his character be killed off, to forestall any suggestion of Boyd also making a guest appearance.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere with Kaitlyn, Sheila shifted her attention to her co-star sitting to her right.

“So, tell me, Doreen,” she asked, “what was it about this new film that made you decide to return to acting after, what has it been, ten years? As I recall, you announced your retirement shortly after you were outed in Lara Robert’s controversial book, Hollywood Queer.”

Like Kaitlyn, Doreen was too much of a professional to let herself be flustered by a question she expected to be asked. It was obvious to her that Sheila was determined to turn what was basically supposed to be a softball piece to promote the film into an interrogation, one that, if she was lucky, might produce a viral moment that might boost her standing with the Network. Taking a short breath, Doreen calmly answered the question, which only seemed to irritate the blonde even more.

“Yes Sheila, I did retire from acting ten years ago,” Doreen smiled, “but it had little to do with that piece of tabloid trash that can only be laughingly referred to as a book. While it’s true that I didn’t advertise my sexuality, it’s also true that I wasn’t in the closet either. Most of my friends and co-workers knew of my sexual preference; and it never prevented me from getting a role before and I really didn’t expect it to do so afterwards. My decision to change the direction of my life really had nothing to do with people in general now knowing I was a lesbian.”

From the expression on her face, it was obvious that Sheila wasn’t happy with the answer.

“And to answer the first part of your question,” Doreen continued, “the only thing that really would’ve gotten me back in front of a camera was the desire to do a favor for someone I’ve always looked upon as a surrogate daughter, and who has grown into not only a great actress but also an excellent television producer.”

The smile that Doreen displayed as she answered was as false as the one Sheila had exhibited earlier. The only difference was that she was a lot better at it, which infuriated the younger woman even more.

“We were very lucky to have Doreen back with us,” Kaitlyn interrupted, drawing attention back to herself before the hostess could ask another question of the muğla escort older woman. “In fact, one of the conditions I gave the Network when they approached me about the movie was that I would only consider doing it if Doreen was also onboard. I couldn’t imagine doing it without her.”

At that, both Spencer and Delores also chimed in with how happy they all were to be working together again. Seeing her first attempts to stir things up weren’t going anywhere, Sheila tried a different track, asking a few soft questions of the other cast members before turning back to Doreen.

“You know, Doreen, it just occurred to me that Kaitlyn is now the same age you were when Garden Place first premiered back in 1981, and that you’re actually two years older than Delores was when she played the grandmother,” she said.

“Your point being?” Doreen asked.

“Just that you both seem to have aged into the roles,” Sheila replied, having momentarily lost her train of thought and whatever point she had been trying to make.

The reason for her distraction became clear during the commercial break, when Sheila was brusquely pulled aside by the show’s producer who, in a tone loud enough to be heard onstage, said that he didn’t know what the fuck she thought she was doing out there, but he wanted it stopped right now. After the break, he wanted her to use the rest of the segment to take questions from the studio audience, and keep whatever opinions she might have about anything to herself.

‘Damn, he’s pissed,’ Sheila thought as she walked back onstage, even as one of the interns headed out into the audience with a wireless microphone. ‘I guess I’m going to have to offer him another blow job to smooth things over.’

After twenty-five years in the business, Sheila really thought she would’ve been past that sort of thing. It never occurred to her that lack of talent might explain the fact that she wasn’t.

-=-=-=-

“What was her problem?” Kaitlyn asked as they walked offstage after the segment ended.

“I guess I should’ve warned you,” Doreen said in a much lower tone. “We have a bit of a history.”

“Not a member of your fan club, I’m guessing,” Kaitlyn smiled.

Doreen replied with a smile of her own.

“Well, if it’s any satisfaction, I think she’s now paying the price for being such a bitch,” Kaitlyn added, gesturing to the edge of the stage, where Sheila appeared to be getting a dressing-down from the same heavyset man in a headset that had words with her earlier.

They couldn’t hear all of the exchange, but what they could pick up was interesting enough. It was clear that Sheila had offered some sort of restitution for her misstep, but that it had been declined. Kaitlyn could just about make out the phrase, “Don’t kid yourself, honey, it wasn’t that good.”

From what else they could pick up, they learned that when viewers tuned in tomorrow, someone else would be guest hosting the show. It was equally clear that the ambitious blonde had really thought that she had been picked to fill in because she was the best possible choice, whereas the truth was that she had been selected because she was the least threatening to Annette Ryan. The regular host’s contract gave her approval of any guest host, and she remembered all too well how she herself had managed to displace the woman who had preceded her. It was a mistake she was too smart to repeat.

Leaving Sheila to her fate, the two actresses walked away from the stage and out the door leading to the long corridor beyond.

“Hopefully, our next promotional spot will go better,” Kaitlyn offered as they neared the elevators.

“That’s at one o’clock, right?” Doreen asked.

“Yeah, on the midday show,” Kaitlyn confirmed. “Doris Walsh is going to be doing that one, and I’m sure she’ll be more professional.”

“So, what do you want to do in the meantime?” Doreen inquired. “It’s still only half past seven.”

“I could definitely go for breakfast,” Kaitlyn replied. “Why don’t we gather up everyone and I’ll take us all out to eat?”

That, as it turned out, was easier said than done. At seventy-nine, Delores Grant was still a trouper, quite willing to get up in the wee hours to do the early morning show, but the only way she was going to repeat the performance a second time this afternoon was to take a good nap in between. Emily, the newest addition to the cast, had already gone off with her mother to see some of the sights, promising to be back for the second interview. Spencer, they discovered, had simply disappeared, lured away, no doubt, by adoring fans of both their show and the three highly successful ones he had done afterwards. Like them a professional, there was no doubt in their minds that the veteran actor would be where he was supposed to be, when he was supposed to be — even if he was missing a few articles of clothing when he arrived.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” Doreen laughed, recalling the days when nevşehir escort Kaitlyn had actually been one.

“I’d watch who you’re calling kid, granny,” Kaitlyn responded with a broad smile as they exited the studio and onto the streets of midtown Manhattan.

-=-=-=-

Since it was now just the two of them, Kaitlyn and Doreen decided to simply head back to their hotel, which was only a few blocks away, and eat in the restaurant there. Their residency at the famed hostel would allow them to secure one of the small alcoves where they could have a little privacy.

Even though they spent much of the last month together, today would be the first chance the two of them had to really talk and catch up. The reunion movie had been a last-minute replacement for another project that the Network had to cancel, due to a scandal involving two of its principal actors. It had gone from an idea to filming in little more than a week, making use of existing sets and stock exterior footage of the old show, with a decent script being only a secondary consideration. So, it had been a whirlwind of shooting schedules and rewrites, with little time in between for anything else. The final version of the film had only been delivered to the Network two days ago.

“So, are you happy with how the film finally turned out?” Doreen asked as she nibbled at the breakfast in front of her.

“Well, considering the time we had to do it, it didn’t turn out all that bad,” Kaitlyn replied. “I mean, it’s really not much more than an expanded episode of the old show, and, if nothing else, it does give me another executive producer credit.”

“Any chance that it could go to series again?” Doreen asked, having heard a rumor that if the ratings for the TV-Movie were good enough it might be considered.

“Well, it’s television, and stranger things have happened,” Kaitlyn said, “but to be honest, I really doubt it. The Network just needed something quick and cheap to fill a hole in the schedule, and I’m guessing that by Monday it’ll be all but forgotten.”

“Well, at least it’ll help you go for bigger and better things,” Doreen noted.

“Yes, there’s that,” Kaitlyn agreed.

“By the way, I know I really didn’t get the chance to say this before, but I really want to thank you for thinking of me when they green lighted the project,” the older actress said. “I know the first draft didn’t have either my or Delores’s character in it.”

“Which was a mistake,” Kaitlyn said, “and I made it clear that without the two of you there wasn’t going to be a movie.”

“But no Boyd,” Doreen added.

“God no!” Kaitlyn laughed. “If I never see that little creep again, I’ll be more than happy.”

“Well, he’s not so little any more, but I understand why you feel that way,” Doreen replied.

“I don’t think you know the half of it,” Kaitlyn offered. “I can’t remember how many times I caught him in my dressing room trying to get a look at me while I was changing? The last time he’d even brought a camera with him. Some magazine had offered a lot of money for a topless photo of me and he was trying to collect it.”

“I can understand the first part of that,” Doreen said. “Half of our audience back then were teenage boys wanting to see you in a tight top or a bikini. In fact, every time you went up a cup size, we got a boost in the ratings.”

“I think you’re exaggerating,” Kaitlyn laughed.

“No, I’m not,” Doreen insisted. “After all, no one was tuning in to see my boobs,” she added, glancing down at her own bust, which was a full cup size smaller. “But I will say that sneaking in with a camera was definitely over the line.”

“Definitely,” Kaitlyn agreed. “If anyone is going to benefit by displaying these puppies, it’s going to be me.”

“Was that why you did that werewolf movie back in ’92?” Doreen asked.

A few years after Garden Place had gone off the air, Kaitlyn, who was by then twenty-three, had appeared semi-nude in a low budget horror film. In fact, she not only bared her much appreciated mounds, but had engaged in several simulated sex scenes, one of which involved another woman. In the year and a half that followed, she also did several other topless scenes, but it was the ones in the werewolf film that people always remembered.

“No, that wasn’t for the money,” Kaitlyn confessed. “In fact, I actually got paid less for Werewolves of San Francisco than I did for a single episode of Garden Place. I brought out ‘the girls’ to shatter that sweet little girl image that everyone kept trying to wrap around me. Every script my agent sent me had me playing basically the same character as our show. I was being typecasted as the fucking Marsha Brady of the nineties.”

“As I recall, the actress that played Marsha also did a topless scene in a low budget movie a few years after Brady Bunch,” Doreen noted, “probably pretty much for the same reason.”

“She did?” Kaitlyn asked, surprised that she’d never heard of that.

“Yes, but it was just one of those ‘don’t blink or you’ll miss it’ kind of things,” Doreen explained.

“Oh,” Kaitlyn simply said.

“Your movie, on the other hand…” Doreen continued. “Well, I read that your debut, shall we say, was the most paused scene of the year when it came out on DVD.”

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This chapter concludes Summer Surprise, including Matt’s and Dianne’s wedding. This chapter contains oral, anal, lesbian, public and group sex. It has Dominance and submission, including punishments. You’ve been forewarned. There is no COVID or STD’s in my fantasy world. My thanks to JohnnyGalt for editing assistance.

Summer Surprise, Ch 19 – Coda

Chloe’s play was a smash success. It got extended for two weeks. Bill and Evelyn Thornhill stopped by to see it on their way to California about halfway through the run. They were joined by Ethel, Georgina, Elaine and Beth, so they all saw it together.

Bill took everyone out to dinner at The Riverfront after the performance. About half of the crowd stood up and cheered when Chloe and Rosilyn entered the room, already having seen the play based upon the promotions done at this restaurant.

“Smile, wave, and curtsy to your fans, Rosilyn,” Chloe said, doing the same. “If you really want to self-promote, make a tour of the room later and stop at individual tables and thank them for their patronage. Who knows, they might see it a second time.”

That’s something they both did after ordering while waiting for their food. Rosilyn was surprised that several people actually asked for her autograph, as if she was famous for more than having climaxes in the restaurant after getting permission to have one.

Bill and Evelyn were both enthusiastic over the performances. “I have no doubt you’ll be wildly successful in Hollywood or Broadway, Chloe. You’re so talented,” Bill said

“Thank you. I plan on it, but you never know.”

******

Another person to see the play was Melissa Forrest, Dianne’s mother. She called and asked if she could come for a visit. When Dianne asked Chloe, she said Melissa was always welcome to see her daughter, though it would be as a naked slave. Dianne shivered, thinking of her mother seeing her like that. Melissa came up on a Friday, stayed the weekend and left on Monday, seeing the Sunday matinee.

Dianne picked her up at the airport by herself, using her own car, missing the last hour of her Friday class. When they reached Sophia’s, Dianne took off all her clothes, and her mother saw Dianne’s piercings and tattoo for the first time. Chloe and Rosilyn hadn’t left for the theater yet, so both of them were there, Rosilyn naked as well. Sophia and Chloe remained clothed, for appearances sake, until they saw which way the wind blew.

Dianne introduced them. “Mother, this is my Mistress and lover, Chloe Hamilton, and my surrogate Mistress, Sophia. Chloe will be leaving now that she’s graduated but will remain my Mistress. Sophia will assist Chloe in managing me while she’s gone. Matt is working at the moment, but will be home for supper. Mistress, Miss Sophia, this is my mother, Melissa Forrest.”

Chloe shook Melissa’s hand warmly. “Thank you for accepting our relationship. I know it’s helpful when some of your family can accept you for who and what you are. Have you visited Francine and her Mistress yet?”

Melissa took Chloe’s hand and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Thank you for loving my daughter. I know she was really upset when she lost her first husband. It’s nice to be able to find love a second time, even if it is an unusual relationship. I haven’t been to see them yet. I was planning on spending time with her in Atlanta when my return flight landed there. Francine will be picking me up at the airport.

“What about you two. I know you were roommates. When did you start having sex together? How did she find out she was submissive? Was it right away after you started having sex? “

“Actually, no,” Chloe said, pulling back and looking closely at Melissa. “It’s a more recent development. I was engaged and my fiancée was killed. Matt and Dianne felt sorry for me and welcomed me into their bed. It became a polyamorous relationship because I’d previously dated Matt before discovering I was more into girls. I didn’t hate sex with him, just didn’t feel the proper emotional connection. Dianne is the one who links us together more. We both love her. The submission came after. After meeting friends who were into it, Dianne wanted to try it. I’m the more Dominant personality of the two of us, so Dianne chose to submit to me. I’m surprised. I thought you’d be more opposed to the idea of her submission, and from your husband’s attitude, her sex with women.”

Melissa paused, considering what she wanted to say. “May we sit down a moment?”

“Of course,” Sophia said. “Have a seat in the living room. Dianne, please get your mother something to drink.”

“Yes, Miss Sophia. What would you like, Mother?”

“A glass of wine, white if you have it?”

Dianne got her mother a glass of white wine. When she handed the glass to her, Melissa put her hand between Dianne’s legs and fingered the jewelry dangling down, reading the inscriptions. Dianne felt a flood of fluid to her pussy.

Melissa released them and leaned back. “When I was in college, I was in a submissive relationship to another girl, a sorority sister.”

“Mother!” kütahya escort Dianne exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ever say something to us?”

“And tell you what? Perhaps Nathan finds out and divorces me. I didn’t know what to say. I thought you girls were relatively normal and would hate me if you found out. Instead, you call me and tell me you’re both doing the same thing I did. I thought about my own experiences as you told me, and I was so aroused remembering it, I had to use a vibrator as soon as Nathan left the house.”

“Melissa, strip. Slaves aren’t allowed clothes in this house,” Chloe said. Sophia, Rosilyn and Dianne both looked at Chloe in shock.

Melissa froze, unable to move.

“You’ll be punished with a stiff spanking if your clothes aren’t off in twenty seconds. All of them. Dianne, run and get me The Enforcer. One, two….”

Dianne rushed to get the wicked paddle for her Mistress, leaving her startled mother hastily unbuttoning her blouse. By the time she returned, her mother was naked and Chloe had Melissa standing in the display position, her legs spread, hands clasped behind her neck.

Chloe was walking around Melissa, feeling her breasts, her hairy pussy, her ass. Melissa shivered each time Chloe’s hand touched her, moaning when Chloe slipped her fingers into her wet cunt. She pulled them out and fed them to Melissa, who licked herself off Chloe’s fingers, whimpering.

“It took you longer than twenty seconds. You’ll be given ten swats for that.” Melissa groaned. “I can see where your daughters got their incredible beauty. How long has it been since you licked a cunt, slave?”

“Thirty years.”

Chloe smacked her bottom using her hand, hard, causing her ass cheeks to jiggle enticingly. “Thirty years what, slave?”

“Thirty years, Mistress,” Melissa mewled.

“Let’s see if you still know your way around one,” Chloe said. “I want you to pleasure me. Undress me first.”

Chloe stood waiting until Melissa started helping her with her clothes. When Chloe was naked, she sat down and spread her legs. Melissa went between them, first inhaling the scent of the young woman, then beginning to lap at her folds. Chloe rested her hand on the head of Dianne’s mother, encouraging her.

“Good girl. I can tell you’re rusty, but also that you used to do this a lot,” Chloe said.

Melissa licked Chloe until she moaned through an orgasm, thrusting her hips against Melissa’s questing tongue.

“Not bad. You’ll get a lot more practice before you go home.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“How seriously do you take your marital vows to your husband?” Chloe asked.

“Why do you ask, Mistress?”

“I might have guessed you took them seriously until you licked my cunt, but perhaps you couldn’t resist the temptation of licking another pussy for the first time in thirty years. If you wish, in addition to licking a lot more pussy, we can have Dianne’s boyfriend fuck you.”

Melissa looked at her daughter. “I won’t do it if Dianne objects, Mistress.”

Not protesting she wouldn’t have extra-marital sex, but only that she wouldn’t fuck Matt if her daughter objected.

“Dianne, your mother would like to fuck Matt. Do you have an objection to her doing so, or is the thought of her fucking Matt got your pretty pussy in a dither?”

“Both, Mistress. I have no objections and I’m quite aroused to think he would fuck her,” Dianne replied.

It did arouse her. Dianne had never been particularly close to her father. He was an unemotional man, rarely expressing affection towards his children. His rejection of her lifestyle choice hadn’t made her feel any closer to him than she had before. Dianne was much closer to her mother, and to think Matt might fuck her, cuckolding her own father, was making her pussy juice. First her mother touching and inspecting her vaginal jewelry, and now this. She felt a trickle of fluid running down her leg. Chloe probably knew it too. Mistress was always attuned to her slave and her sexual buttons.

“I guess that means Matt will be making your father a cuckold, doesn’t it, Dianne?” Chloe asked.

“Yes, Mistress. It appears he will.”

“Dianne, take your mother to the master bath and make sure she shaves off all of her pubic hair. Inspect her pussy closely to ensure she gets all of it without touching her. When she’s bald, bring her back and she can tell us how she became a submissive slut in college. Then she can practice licking a lot more pussy. All but yours.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

When mother and daughter left, Sophia asked, “You’re not going to collar Dianne’s mother, are you?”

“Temporarily, while she’s here. Rosilyn, get me your old collar.” Rosilyn left, getting the collar removed when she became Brianna’s possession. “Otherwise, no time, nor the inclination, given she lives in Georgia. Vivica might take an interest in her though, don’t you think; wife and daughter of Nathan Bedford Forrest’s modern day namesake? Plus, she lives in Georgia, a couple hours away from Atlanta.”

“Do you think Vivica would manisa escort make Francine and Melissa pleasure each other?”

“Perhaps. I think her Mother would be resistant, but given what Vivica expressed between the two sisters, she might ask. It’s no concern of mine. What they do together will be up to them and not me. I’m only responsible for my own slave. You might as well get naked, Sophia. She’ll be licking you shortly.”

Sophia did as Chloe suggested, and they were all lounging comfortably naked when Dianna and Melissa reappeared, Melissa sporting a newly bald cunt. Chloe made Melissa kneel and put the collar on her neck.

“You’ll wear this collar until you leave, signifying you’re my slave slut until you do.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Chloe set up a kitchen chair in the living room, one with a vinyl covering which could be wiped after leaky slaves sat in it. She directed Melissa to sit in it.

“You’re going to start masturbating for us, slave. You may not orgasm without permission. Cumming without permission is a punishable offense, as is failing to ask for permission. As you masturbate, you’ll tell us how you became the slave slut for your sorority sister; how, when and how long. What caused your submission to stop and do you still see your former Mistress; although I don’t think that’s likely given how long it’s been since you licked a cunt.”

While shamefully masturbating for them all, including her own daughter, Melissa explained how as a freshman at the University of Georgia, she pledged to the Alpha Chi Omega Sorority. While pledging, a Junior sorority sister, Amanda, had tormented her during her initiation, making Melissa remain naked in her room and lick her pussy. She found she enjoyed the submission she endured while pledging, and became Amanda’s submissive slut for the next three years, including one year where Amanda was in graduate school. Melissa otherwise dated, but needed to pleasure Amanda every day. When Amanda left Georgia, she abandoned Melissa who eventually met Nathan while she was a senior, marrying him after she graduated.

Several times, Melissa asked for permission to cum and Chloe denied her permission. She’d had to stop masturbating with her fingers remaining inserted in her overflowing pussy as she continued. Melissa knew her fingers were dripping.

“How often did Amanda lick you?” Chloe asked.

“No more than once a month. It was more my responsibility to lick her,” Melissa responded.

“Did you lick any other pussy but Amanda’s?” Chloe asked.

“No, Mistress. Lesbianism was considered a shameful sin among our contemporaries. Those who were avowed lesbians were often mocked and criticized. Amanda and I even did it ourselves a few times, so no one might suspect we were having lesbian sex. We didn’t advertise what we were doing and it was the reason we continued to date men while in college.”

“Is that the reason you aren’t more offended by what Francine and I are doing?” Dianne asked.

“Yes, I understand it. I enjoyed it myself when I did it.”

“I think you should get an additional twenty swats to your ass for being critical of the lesbians on your campus while you yourself were a pussy pleaser,” Chloe said.

“I probably do deserve it. I’ve wished a hundred times I wasn’t as cruel to others as I acted because of my own fears.”

“If you weren’t afraid any longer, would you divorce Nathan and have a relationship with a woman?” Sophia asked.

“I doubt I would leave Nathan. I do care somewhat for him and he would be devastated if I left him. I couldn’t do that to him. He’s given me three children I love.”

“But you will fuck Matt and lick all the cunt I want you to lick?” Chloe confirmed.

“As long as Nathan never finds out about it, I would obey, Mistress.”

“I want you to offer yourself to Francine’s Mistress, Vivica, when you get to Atlanta. Offer to wear her collar every time you visit Atlanta.”

“Yes, Mistress. I’ll do as you ask. May I cum now?”

“You may cum, but I’ll be adding another ten swats to your punishment. Show us what a nasty slut you are.”

Melissa stroked her fingers in and out of her cunt until she orgasmed, a puddle of her fluids already on her chair.

“Over my lap now,” Chloe said. “You will count each stroke and thank me for each one. If your hands or feet come off the floor, we go back to the very beginning. I warn you, it’s going go to sting like a bitch.”

Chloe smacked Melissa a good one and she yelped and yanked her hand off the ground to protect her ass.

“That one doesn’t count. I told you it would sting like a bitch. Your daughter does much better than you do.”

Perhaps it was competing against Dianne which caused Melissa to withstand forty wicked strokes to her bottom, counting and thanking Chloe for each one. Around twenty-eight, Melissa started wriggling in a most familiar way.

“Are you going to cum, Melissa? I’m giving you a fucking spanking, and you’re going to orgasm?”

“I think so, Mistress.”

“You’d better ask for permission, or you’ll add mardin escort an additional ten swats to your total.”

“May I cum, Mistress.”

“No, you may not. You haven’t earned any orgasms yet. You’ll need to lick a lot more cunt before you earn one.”

“Please, Mistress. I’m not sure I can hold out.”

“No.”

Melissa groaned.

Despite her wanting to obey, Melissa climaxed on Chloe’s thirty-fourth swat. As soon as it started, Chloe fucked her cunt with the handle of The Enforcer and quickly added three more orgasms to her list. She somehow managed to keep her hands and feet on the floor, saving herself from going back to the beginning, but they were powerful orgasms, among the strongest Melissa could ever remember having. Heavens, how she’d missed this.

Chloe finished the rest of the forty swats and rubbed Melissa’s red ass, feeling the heat. Melissa stayed bent over her lap.

“Didn’t I earn forty more swats, Mistress?” Melissa asked, puzzled she wasn’t getting more.

“You did. But I’m saving them for tomorrow when I plan to whip your breasts and cunt. While we wait for Matt to get home and give you a proper fucking, you can start licking Rosilyn’s cunt. She and I need to leave shortly. When you’re done with her, lick Sophia. As soon as Matt gets home, offer to suck his cock to completion and eat all of his cum. Start earning more orgasms.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

While Melissa started licking Rosilyn, Chloe pulled Sophia aside.

“Put a tail in Melissa’s ass tonight to start stretching her ass for anal sex. I want Matt to fuck Dianne with Melissa watching and I want her to lick Dianne’s cum off his dick. She’s to suck him to another erection and get fucked herself and I want Dianne licking her cum off his cock, but they stay away from each other. Perhaps you can clean them after Matt finishes in both of them. You can take Matt and Melissa to bed tonight and let her practice some more, maybe let her lick your cunt while Matt plants more baby makers in your womb. I’ll keep Dianne in my room tonight. I think I’ll invite Ray over tomorrow to see how Melissa takes to a black cock.”

“You’re absolutely fiendish,” Sophia said, smiling.

“I think it will play into both of their sexual fantasies,” Chloe said. “They should both get some fantastic orgasms out of it.”

When Melissa finished with Rosilyn, Chloe told her. “You’re to obey Sophia tonight as you would me. If you’ve not followed her instructions perfectly, you’ll spend at least three hours on the Slave Trainer tomorrow.”

“What’s a Slave Trainer, Mistress?”

“You don’t want to wear one, Mother,” Dianne said. “Obey Sophia perfectly so you don’t have to find out.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

While Melissa was licking Sophia, Chloe and Rosilyn left for the theater. When Matt arrived a half hour later, he found Dianne’s mother, recognized from a picture, kneeling on the floor offering to suck his cock. Matt glanced at Dianne, wondering what the hell was going on. Dianne nodded her head as a signal to Matt he could accept.

Matt let Melissa withdraw his cock and suck him off. She was a damn good cock sucker, almost as good as Dianne, though not quite able to get all of him down. She didn’t obsess over it, just did the best she could, and eventually, took all of his cum and swallowed it without any issues. When she was finished, Matt went to his room and put his clothes away, returning naked. Matt and Dianne quietly conferred as they helped with supper, Matt wanting to know what was going on. Dianne told him that her mother had been a submissive to an older sorority sister for three years in college, though she’d never done it since. Chloe had put her mother into bondage while she was here.

“You’ll be fucking her later, Matt. You’re going to make my father an unknowing, unsuspecting cuckold.”

Matt looked at Melissa. Nice body for a nearly fifty year old woman.

“How do you feel about that?” Matt asked.

“You know me. It arouses me to think you’ll be fucking my mother. It’s just deviant enough to push my submissive buttons.”

Before supper, Sophia lubed up the foxtail and inserted it in Melissa’s bottom, warning her that she would be taking a cock in the ass before she left.

“I’ve never been ass fucked before. Does Dianne get fucked in the ass, Mistress?”

“All slave sluts get ass fucked on occasion, slave. The rest of us enjoy it on occasion as well, even Matt. You’ll probably enjoy it as much as the rest of us do,” Sophia said. “When you’re a needy slut, you appreciate all the fucking you can get. Whether it’s in the ass or not becomes irrelevant.”

When they sat down for dinner, Dianne sat in Matt’s lap and he fed her. Melissa sat in Sophia’s, and she was caressed during the whole meal, needing to ask for permission to cum three times, receiving it twice.

After the meal and kitchen clean up, they all went to Sophia’s bedroom. “Matt, Chloe wanted you to fuck Dianne first tonight. After you cum in Dianne, her mother is going to clean off your cock. Melissa will continue sucking you until you have another erection, at which time, you will fuck her. Having cum twice already, you should be able to give her a good shafting. Dianne will clean her mother’s cum off your cock. Is this the first time you’ll be having sex with another man since you’ve been married to Nathan, slave?”

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Loss of Innocence

soppingwetpanties

Another story featuring our favorite hard luck detective, Max Pemberton.

Thank you to migbird for your thoughtful comments and encouragement.

Thank you for your votes and comments on “Betrayal.” Please vote… comment… on this one. It’s catnip for me.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Prologue

I’m Maxine “Max” Pemberton. I was a member of the Cincinnati police force for thirty-five years. I’m retired now, and running a café that was owned by my good friend, Nicky, who passed away almost ten years ago and left it to me. When I joined the force, I was a brash, impressionable young woman with a chip on my shoulder and a serious drinking problem.

I was married to a man I met in college, but the hard living and the long hours took its toll, and after seven years of ups and downs we called it quits. It wasn’t Jim’s fault. It wasn’t mine. He knew I was going to be a cop. His dad was one. He knew what he was signing up for. What we didn’t figure was that I was attracted to women and not to men. I didn’t know it for sure during our marriage, but I knew it for sure the first time I went to bed with a woman. My sex life with Jim was practically non-existent at the end, and the intimacy I achieved with my first female lover told me my time with Jim was over.

Back when I started, the force was only about ten percent women, and few at the upper echelons. I had to be scrappy to make it in a testosterone fueled work environment. And make it I did, but not without my share of dizzying highs and rock bottom lows.

I found love (and lost it as well) with a battered wife [Cold Steel], tried my luck again with a police Lieutenant [Hot Steel], crushed a drug ring [Pink Ice], and uncovered corruption in our department [Betrayal]. A former lover and colleague from the Columbus police force, Leka Singh, worked with me on an abduction case. This is our story.

Chapter One

Getting Back on my Feet… Again

There are only so many times that you can get crushed and pull yourself back up again. I felt like a cat that’s used up eight of her nine lives. My life was an elevator ride from the penthouse to the basement, and back up and down again so many times I’d lost count.

The latest broadsides were the death of my former partner and lover, Rachel, followed by Brianna’s death, so young and vulnerable [ed. note — see Betrayal]. There was little I could have done to prevent either tragedy, but I felt responsible nevertheless.

My partner Lanny took me back to the Royal Palms Motel, a fleabag on the wrong side of the tracks in Cincinnati. I’d taken up permanent residence there for the past several months. My usual reaction to a tragedy of this magnitude was to get and stay blind drunk for as long as possible. Lanny convinced me that drunkenness wasn’t a viable long-term coping mechanism. I reluctantly agreed.

During my last case I had reason to reconnect with Lehka Singh, a Detective First Grade in the Columbus Division of Police. Lehka was of Indian descent, a first generation American. Her father Preshant came over in the 60’s from Hyderabad to join a national automotive parts manufacturer located near Columbus, and shortly after brought over his wife Maira to start a family. Lehka was their first born daughter, followed by her sister Eshana three years later.

Lehka had the usual assimilation issues one would expect of a non-white person in Middle America. Those problems were compounded by the fact that in her late teens she suspected she was gay. Of course her parents put an inordinate amount of pressure on her from the time she was a little girl to marry a good Indian boy (translated — a doctor), pressure that she found to be both offensive and antithetical to her biological desires.

As one could have expected, she rebelled from the customs of the old country. Even if she was heterosexual, it was unlikely she would have followed her parent’s wishes. But being gay, there was zero chance of that happening.

The second point of friction was her career choice (translated — she should have been a doctor). Her expressed interest in enrolling in the police academy, combined with her rejection of every male suitor her parents put in front of her, led to a virtual estrangement for many years. Lehka never came out to her parents, though everyone in her workplace knew she was gay (her sister also knew, but was sworn to secrecy). Of course, after the public accolades Lehka received in solving a double homicide case with me (including the highest level of commendation from the Columbus police force), she became kuşadası escort the pride of the family. Better late than never.

My relationship with my parents wasn’t that much better than hers. My father was a sales representative for a pharmaceutical company (which I consider to be ironic, given the number of drug dealers peddling Oxy that I’ve busted) and was always on the road. My mother was a raging alcoholic, and as far as I can tell it’s the only attribute I inherited from her. I consider my nomadic living habits (the last five months in a shitty motel room) to be from my father.

Lehka was a Detective Third Grade when I met her. She was working a murder case in Columbus involving a teenage girl, maybe nineteen, who was sexually assaulted and strangled with a blue nylon rope which left fibers embedded in the skin of the victim’s neck. The ligature marks from the nylon rope could only have been made by a person of unusual strength. Lehka noticed that there was bruising on the neck from the perpetrator’s hands, and that the more extensive bruising on the left side indicated the killer was left handed.

Lehka detected a similar modus operendi in a case I was handling, a young prostitute who was strangled and left by the river. I noted in the case file that there were blue nylons fibers on the victim and deep bruises caused by the killer’s hands. Lehka called me, and we compared notes, and there was enough similarities to warrant a joint investigation. Our respective managements agreed, and we ended up working together for three months, culminating in the arrest and conviction of the perpetrator.

Even though it was common knowledge that I was a lesbian, the fact that Lehka hadn’t come out (and was terrified if her parents found out) limited her sexual experience to a few casual out of town encounters that involved groping but no hard core sex. As far as I knew, I was her first.

Lehka was tall, probably 5’10”, with long black wavy hair. It had a beautiful sheen to it. She had dark skin, about the color of burnt butter, and a thin face with a narrow nose. She had a beautiful smile that went nicely with her shiny dark eyes. I was attracted to her instantly.

When we talked relationships, she would either avoid the subject or tell me she hadn’t been in one. Of course I never believed her. Someone as attractive as her would have undoubtedly led to at least one long-term relationship. That’s when I suspected she was hiding something.

Nothing happened between us during the investigation. Nothing. Lehka never let on that she was interested in me, even though I detected a strong sexual tension. She was good at being closeted at that time.

It was our celebratory party that lit the fuse.

It was the middle of the summer. We had just found and arrested the killer. He was in Cincinnati, in the West End, planning his next kill. We captured him in no small part to Lehka’s tireless work on the case. We ended up at the Landing Point on the night of his arrest, the watering hole of choice for our station.

As usual, Kris, a woman who was a fixture at the Point, was serving our table. It was Lehka, me, and the rest of the investigative team — a half dozen guys from both Columbus and Cincinnati, drinking Jameson’s and trading barbs about which office did the heavy lifting. I already had a reputation as a heavy drinker, and I found that Lehka could hold her liquor as well. We’d already been drinking for several hours when the guys started making rude remarks. You have to remember it was ten years ago, when HR departments weren’t breathing fire up your ass all the time. Lehka and I both had nice breasts, though mine were bigger (to be fair, I was carrying about twenty more pounds than her, and at that time I was a “G” cup), so you can imagine the focus of the drunken men’s attention.

Stony, one of the lead detectives from our office (he’s now retired), tugged on my blouse. A button popped open, revealing some of my considerable cleavage. Stony was a good guy, but not a good drinker. He was already hammered.

“Jeez Max, you never go out with me even though I ask nice.” He slurred his words and spit ran off his chin. Stony’s wife kicked him out of the house a few years back, and in his inebriated state he was literally willing to fuck anything with a hole in it.

I was going to give him a pass. We won. We were happy. We were drunk.

“I don’t think it was you asking, I think it was your puny dick,” I fired back.

The guys started laughed at Stony, who proceeded to down another shot and slam the glass on the table in triumph.

“Heyyy. Fuck you guys.” He pointed to his mates, wobbled like a drunken sailor, and then hit his chin on the table as he lurched forward.

Two of his mates put their shoulders under his arms and helped him out, the toes of his shoes dragging on the floor.

The others filtered out with them, leaving Lehka and me on our own.

Kris returned to find just the two of us. “Outlasted kocaeli escort the boys, eh?” She was a barrel chested woman with a heart of gold. She’d been working there for twenty years, and knew what was going on at our station better than anyone there. She loaded the empty glasses on a tray and started wiping down the table.

“Those guys can’t drink shit,” I declared. I was feeling no pain. Lehka was looking at me differently.

Kris laughed. “You are two tough broads. You drank Stoney under the table… or maybe on top of the table.” She chuckled as she said it.

“We are tough, aren’t we Lehka?” We gave each other a high five.

“Fuckin’ A right,” Lehka chimed in. She was feeling no pain as well.

“Someday we’ll have those motherfucker’s jobs,” I boasted.

“You got that right, fucking perverts,” she answered. As it turns out she was right. She ultimately became a supervisor in her department and made First Grade. I, on the other hand, found Maker’s Mark, and became a drunk… First Grade.

“Two more shots Kris,” Lehka barked out, in no mood to quit partying. She had never let her hair down in front of me before. It was clear she was gathering up the courage to do something. Another button had opened up on her blouse, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I noticed.

“Don’t you girls have to work tomorrow?” Kris asked.

“Nope,” said Lehka. “We get tomorrow off. My first day off in two months. That’s why I’m going to parteeee.” She had to put her hand on the table to keep from falling forward like Stoney.

“All right, but let’s at least make sure neither of you drive. I’m going to call you a cab.” Kris loved us like a mother, and acted like one too.

“OK,” Lehka said, “But bring us our drinks.”

“OK,” said Kris. “But’s it’s last call.”

“She’s a buzz killer,” Lehka muttered out of Kris’s earshot.

“She’s all right,” I answered. “She just worries about us.”

Kris came back with the shots.

“Thanks Mom,” Lehka said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kris gave her a big smile. She pinched Lehka’s cheek. “Now you girls behave and get home safe.”

We downed our shots, paid the bill and waited outside for the cab. It was well past midnight, and the air was finally cool, and the rank humidity gone. We heard crickets chirping in the tall grass between the rustic bar and the river.

“I’m really fucked up,” said Lehka, her eyes rolling in her head.

As an experienced drinker, my first instinct was to see if she was going to vomit. I lifted up her chin and looked into her glassy eyes. It didn’t look imminent.

She plopped herself down on a wooden bench that ran along the front wall of the outside of the bar. She kicked out her feet and rested her back against the wall.

“I like you Max.”

“I like you too Lehka.”

Her eyes were narrow slits. Her head was bobbing. “But I really like you,” she insisted.

“What do you mean?” I asked her. I had an inkling but I wanted her to say it instead of me guessing.

“You know,” she said.

I could tell that she was a bit embarrassed, even though her brain was toasted.

I gave her encouragement. “I don’t know, Lehka, just tell me.”

“Max…” Her head was listing against the wall. “You want me to tell you that I think you’re a very pretty woman. Now there, I’ve said it.” She nodded her head to add emphasis to her observation.

“Uhh… thank you Lehka.” I wasn’t going to play more games. She was clearly struggling with her sexual identity. We both had way too much to drink, and the cool night air brought some vitality to our conversation.

“Lehka, do you want to go back to my room?” Lehka had a room at a hotel a bit further out of town. We were going to have the cab drop me off first and then take her to her hotel.

Lehka was lucid enough to know what I was asking. I was always interested in her, but she really hadn’t shown any interest in me. At that time, I wasn’t even sure she was into girls.

She looked at me. Her face said yes.

* * *

The cab ride over was a blur. We started making out in the back seat before the cab was out of the parking lot. I remember when we pulled into the Royal Palms parking lot, I already had her blouse unbuttoned to the waist and had my hand inside her bra. We quickly straightened up before we got out. I paid and we staggered up the outside steps to the second floor, making way too much noise for 1 a.m. We fell through the doorway into my room.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” I asked her. She was a bit wobbly on her feet. I let her sit down on the bed.

“Yeah,” she said. But then she added, “I kissed I think two…”

“Kissed?”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

I was standing. She was sitting. I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off.

“We’re going to do a lot more than kissing,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she said dreamily. “I want to.”

I stood next to the bed and let her reach behind me to unclasp my bra. I could hear konya escort her short breaths. I shrugged my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I guided her hands to my breasts. Her slender fingers felt the texture of my skin and then she cupped my breasts in her palms.

“How is it Lehka?” I asked her.

“So soft Max. Better than I imagined.”

For me too. For someone so obviously inexperienced, her touch was light and electric. She played with each nipple, pinching each one hard enough to make me gasp. I could see that she was looking at them longingly.

“Go ahead,” I told her. I knew what she wanted. Her eyes made it obvious.

She leaned forward and captured an erect nipple in her mouth. She sucked it hard in her mouth, elongating it, and the swirled her tongue around it. Her tongue was wet and heavenly.

“Ummm, for a newbie you’re good at this,” I told her.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” she confessed, and then went back to her licking.

“That’s it babe,” I said, encouraging her. “Suck on them.”

The alcohol haze was clearing. Our true feelings were becoming crystal clear. I ran my hands through her thick mane of hair and kissed the top of her head. I gave a gentle downward push of her head with my hands, and she understood I wanted her to go lower. She kissed her way down my tummy until her face was in front of my pants. She unbuttoned them and eased them down to my ankles. I kicked them off. My panties were sopping wet. She put her thumbs under the waistband and pulled them down in one motion. I let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them.

“Max… I want to kiss you there,” she said softly.

She was shy. I was going to rid her of that hang-up. “You mean my pussy?” I asked.

“Yes… yes… your pussy.”

I sat on the bed with my back to the headboard. She turned around on the bed to face me. I lifted up my knees and spread my legs apart inviting her to me.

“Come here baby,” I beckoned. “Lick my pussy.”

She bent down between my knees. I grabbed a handful of her silky soft hair and pushed her head between my legs. She drank deeply from my well of desire, quenching her thirst for me. I moaned deeply.

“Make me cum baby,” I told her between panting breaths.

Her tongue was everywhere. I rolled my head from side to side. “Yes… baby… yes.”

I closed my eyes and saw bright lights. We were too drunk to do anything more. We fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs.

* * *

We only had a few days more until her temporary assignment to Cincinnati was over. We spent most of the time in my room, with her learning the ways to love a woman. It was a bittersweet parting, more bitter than sweet, as we went back to our respective careers, and her to her family as well. We were a hundred miles apart, but it just as well could have been a thousand, as we became enmeshed in the machinery of police work, a stifling career even if the loved one was in the same home. A long distance relationship was well-nigh impossible.

Although we swore we would stay in touch, the phone calls became spaced further and further apart until it was just an exchange of Christmas cards and the occasional phone call. We were separated for five years, until a drug investigation, and Brianna’s death, brought us back together.

Chapter Two

The Reunion

I reconnected with Lehka during our investigation of Jumbo Williams. It had been months since we talked last. She provided me with key information on Ray Driscoll, a cop that turned out to be bent, and at the end of the conversation told me that she missed me. That information was filed away until the death of Brianna, when I was grasping for a lifeline. I told Lanny that I needed to see her. Like the good man that he was, he called her, and she agreed to take some time off work to talk me off the ledge.

I took a week off work to recover, and was lounging in a cheap plastic lawn chair on the second floor balcony of the Royal Palms, drinking a ginger ale and wishing it was vodka. The late afternoon sun was shining on my face, and I had my eyes closed to enjoy the last vestiges of the day. I heard a car pull into the parking lot and looked with interest at whoever might be getting out. People watching at the Royal Palms was one of my favorite spectator sports. It was a oft-used place for wayward spouses to make their connections, stealing furtive glances in the parking lot before disappearing into one of the rooms for their illicit tryst.

But there was only a single person getting out of the car, and from above I saw it was Lehka. Her shiny black hair was a giveaway, but even from a distance I could see the intrusion of a few gray hairs. Otherwise she looked as fit as always, though carrying maybe a few more pounds in her middle and her butt.

She looked up and saw me. I waved. She smiled and waved back. She walked to the office to get the keys to her room.

I kicked back in my chair and put my feet on the rusted wrought iron railing, happy to see an old flame and wondering if something more would come of this. Not more than a few minutes later Lehka was taking the luggage out of her trunk and rolling it to the stairway. I got off my ass and scampered down the stairs to help her.

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Session 05

“That was a strange place to end the session. I mean, she just said her first real lover was a lesbian prostitute and you say, ‘Uh, oh well, if you feel stressed, take a walk along the beach.'”

I glared at Bill. “You know, I’ve always felt your sense of humor to be overly developed and crude, more in line with a truck driver than a doctor.”

Bill stared at me for a moment then broke out in laughter, a deep belly laugh. Over-developed and juvenile sense of humor indeed.

When he got control of himself, he said, “Come on, Sue, weren’t you dying of curiosity?”

I frowned. “Actually, I was more shocked than curious. I needed time to digest it all before proceeding.”

Bill returned my frown. “I know you. You think something was going on under the surface. But surely you don’t think her love affair with Karen was the first step in a planned recruitment, do you?”

I arched my left eyebrow. “In a world ruled largely by random chance, coincidences are to be expected, but only a fool trusts any one of them. I have to be very careful exploring this one, I think.”

Bill glanced at the clock. “Good luck with your investigation into this one, Detective Sue.”

***

Vanessa looked as pretty as ever. I don’t think she could look unattractive if she tried. We exchanged greetings and she lay down on the couch. I took a seat facing her and began.

“Last time, you told me that Karen revealed that she was a lesbian prostitute and worked for a dominatrix named Judith.”

She nodded. “Karen called her ‘Mistress’ or ‘Mistress Judith.'”

“Let’s pick up from there, shall we? What happened next?”

Vanessa frowned. “That night? I already told you. We made love again.”

“So, Karen’s revelation didn’t bother you?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Not really. I mean, for that kind of money, it would be hard to turn down. And I could tell from the way Karen acted that her job had nothing to do with me.”

“You continued having sex as you had been?”

Vanessa smiled, dreamy and sleepy. “Oh yes, every day, as usual. It got even better.”

I asked, “How so?”

“Karen showed me new positions and began bringing home some of her boss’s toys for us to use. Are the details important?”

I shook my head. “Not unless you think so.”

“No. We had fun. We fucked each other into exhaustion every night. I slept like I’d never slept before. I woke up every morning feeling rested and ready for the day. And I didn’t feel so lonely and angry. My suspicions about sex had been right. It turned out to be the best part of my life and I HAD been missing something before. Karen showed me what.”

She paused and I waited. When she remained silent, I ventured a question I’d held back since the beginning. “It appears you were very fond of Karen.” She nodded in agreement. “But you’ve never said that you were in love with her. Were you?”

She looked at me for several moments, as if contemplating her answer, which was strange but signaled the question’s importance. Usually, she replied quickly.

“Funny you should ask that.”

I said, “Why do you say that?”

“That night, the night she told me about Judith, after I got her off, Karen told me that she loved me.”

“Was that the first time?”

“Yes.”

“How did you respond?”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“What did you do?”

“I kissed her like there was no tomorrow and made love to her again.”

I let the answer hang in the air for a few moments. “So, you deflected with a sex act?”

Vanessa said, “That sounds like psycho-babble but I guess it’s apt. I didn’t know what ‘being in love’ felt like, so I kept on doing what I had before. Karen liked it well enough. She came so hard she nearly passed out.”

I asked, “Do you think you were being dishonest?”

Vanessa frowned. “What do you mean?”

I replied, “I’m not trying to upset you. What most people call ‘being in love’ is really a biochemical reaction engendered by a combination of physical attraction and emotional attachment bordering on obsession. What is called a ‘crush’ is a similar thing, but entirely one-sided. ‘Being in love’ is the next step, usually much stronger. The person ‘in love’ becomes desperate for the object of her affection to reciprocate. You obviously felt affection and attraction for Karen. It becomes a question of the degree of your feelings. From your reaction here, I take it that your feelings for Karen were less intense than hers for you. Is that correct?”

Vanessa averted her eyes, but not to the left, so I didn’t think she was formulating a lie. She remained silent.

I pushed. “In such matters, we really can’t help the way that we feel. I’m not trying to blame you. Desire cannot be negotiated. Just because a person loves you does not obligate you to return that love to the same degree.” She kept her eyes averted and didn’t try to speak. As a last chance, I added, “I should know.”

It was a violation of the clinical procedure, showing a chink in my armor. It could’ve undermined her confidence in me as a clinician. But I kahramanmaraş escort had a strong feeling that a bit of commiseration could provide a breakthrough and it turned out to be correct. My admission got her attention. She stared at me for a moment before asking, “You, too, eh? Another woman?”

I shook my head. “A man. My dearest friend.”

She asked, “Were y’all lovers?”.

I said, “No. I knew better.”

“I thought you liked men as well as women.”

I answered, “I do.”

She asked, “Well, what was the matter with him? Is he fat or ugly?”

I said, “No. He’s quite handsome and successful.”

She asked, “Then why?”

I said, “Because I knew I couldn’t give him what he most desired. He clearly wanted more than just my body, but I was unwilling to attach myself that strongly to anyone. If we had started a physical relationship, I would have eventually lost his friendship. And his friendship is one of the true treasures of my life.”

She said, “So, if y’all hadn’t been such good friends, I mean, if he had picked you up in a bar, say, or y’all met a party, you would’ve fucked him?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, though I’m not given to such impulsiveness. I’m usually quite deliberate in such matters. But your situation is different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Karen didn’t have a close personal relationship until after you had sex. In all the ways that really count, Karen was your first, despite the two or three men you’d been with before. I only meant that I know what it’s like to have somebody love me as a potential long term mate when I don’t feel the same way. I say again, that kind of feeling can’t be negotiated. He could never have been kind enough, good enough in bed, generous enough, or even loyal enough for me to make him the primary focus of my life. There is nothing wrong with him. I don’t think I’ll ever feel that way about anybody. I’m too independent.”

She nodded. “I think I understand.”

I continued. “So, did Karen’s expression of her feelings for you make you feel guilty? Is that why you put even more effort into your sex with her?”

She paused again. “Maybe. It makes sense. I mean, I didn’t want to lose her. So, I guess you could say that I did try to make up for what I didn’t feel but she did.”

“That’s what I meant about being dishonest. You didn’t tell her what you really felt, but you acted as if you reciprocated, yes?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so.” She sighed. “Yes, you’re right.”

“Did Karen ever tell you she loved you again?”

Vanessa nodded. “But not right away.”

I opened my eyes wider. “Sounds like there’s a lot more to the story. Do you feel like continuing?”

“Yes. I suppose I have to. That’s why I’m here, after all, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “I think it’s necessary. So, go on, please.”

“Like I said, that night was just after Thanksgiving. We had about two weeks left before final exam week. After that was the Christmas break. They always shut down the dorms then. Lots of people move out, change roommates, whatever. The dorm assignments are for the year, so you don’t have to move your stuff if you’re staying, but you have to vacate them until the next semester starts. I didn’t have a job, so I didn’t have to stay in Forrestburg. I always went to my Grandma’s, you know, my dad’s mother. But that year, Karen wanted me to spend Christmas with her.”

I asked, “Where did she want y’all to stay?”

Vanessa winced. “See, that was the problem. She always stayed at Judith’s house.”

I sat back. “I see. I assume that Judith extended an invitation to you through Karen?”

“I asked Karen that and she said that it was ok with Judith, so that’s what it sounded like.”

“Were you nervous about going?”

Vanessa nodded. “I didn’t like springing that on Grandma, but Karen said I could tell her I’d been invited to my roommate’s place, which was kinda true. I was okay with that but …”

I prompted her, “You weren’t comfortable with Judith doing business while you were there?”

She nodded. “But ….”

I waited. Then, “But you were curious?”

In a small voice, she said, “Yes.”

To make her comfortable, I said, “You remember my speech about normal and abnormal, right?” She nodded. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, consenting adults can have fun in any way they choose. I’ve always felt that attempting to legislate morality is a waste of time and resources. So, I find nothing wrong with a young woman being curious about such things. Be open and honest with me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Sue. The fact is, I was curious about the whole thing.”

“The dominatrix thing?”

“Yes. I liked it when Karen took charge of me, so I could understand, at least a little, how at some level the dominatrix thing would be interesting and fun. I didn’t think much of spanking or humiliation or anything like that, but that seemed more like a matter of degree. It’s easy to understand how, if you have what would normally be considered ‘unusual’ kastamonu escort desires, it would be easier to be in a scenario where those acts were ‘forced’ on you, as if it wasn’t really your choice.”

I asked, “So, why were you hesitant? Did you think that Judith would try to persuade you into doing some of those acts?”

Vanessa nodded. “I thought it was likely. I mean, Karen still called her ‘Mistress.’ What if Judith demanded that Karen share me? You’ve said before that I’m fully aware of my physical attractions. Why else would she invite me?”

I shrugged. “Did you go?”

“Yes. Like Karen said, it was a nice house about ten miles east of here in a heavily forested area. Karen didn’t bother to knock. She had a key. I asked her if it was okay to just walk in and she told me that Judith would be with a client for another half hour or so. I listened but couldn’t hear anything. Karen said the rooms were all sound-proofed. We went off to the side of the house into the kitchen and had a snack and waited.

“After about thirty minutes, I heard a door open and some voices, at least two. I could tell one of the speakers wore high heels from the sound of her steps. All the floors were wood. I heard the outer door open and close and the woman wearing the high heels walked back towards us. Karen took my hand and gave it a squeeze just as a woman walked in.

“Karen had described Judith to me so I knew it was her. She was tall for a woman, about 5’8”, and slender, maybe 120 pounds. She had dark hair. She wore it down to her shoulders. It was curly but not tight. I think they call it loosely curled. It looked black. You know, there’s two kinds that people call black. One is truly black, like a raven’s wing. The other is really very dark brown. You can only tell the difference in the sunlight because then you can see the dark reddish tint in the second kind. I discovered that Judith had the second kind when I saw her in the sunlight the next day.

“Her eyes were very dark. You could hardly tell where her iris ended and her pupil began. Large, slightly almond-shaped, widely spaced. Lovely. But there was a chill in them. Karen had been right. Judith’s eyes felt like they penetrated my body when she focused on me. And she was beautiful, you know, symmetrical face, narrow nose, full lips, high cheekbones. She looked like a thirty year old model, not a fifty year old whore, except for her clothes.

I asked, “What was unusual about her clothes?”

Vanessa snorted. “She wore a black lace corset. The cups of the bra part covered less than half of her tits and her nipples were hard. Her breasts were larger than Karen’s but smaller than mine. Garters held up her stockings, also black, and she wore high boots with five inch heels. A black lace thong covered her pussy, just barely, so I knew she shaved it. Her fingernails were the same shade of dark red as her lips. She looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of a high class men’s magazine.”

***

Time to switch to the third person omniscient again.

***

Her voice was low for a woman. She raked her eyes down Vanessa’s body and back up. She said, “My, my, Karen. You’re really not very eloquent. Your description doesn’t do Vanessa justice.” She had a slight accent that Vanessa couldn’t place.

She approached and extended her hand. “Welcome, Vanessa. I’m Judith. I’m glad you could come.”

Vanessa took the hand. It was warm and smooth, as one would expect from such an elegant woman, but the strength in the grip, every bit a match for the mental strength expressed by her eyes, surprised Vanessa. Clearly, slender did not equal physical weakness. Judith radiated confidence and charisma. Power. She would be in charge of any room in any building she walked into. Heads would turn and deference would be offered. Vanessa thought, “Karen was right about her. Nobody could help but want her. Her acceptance and desire would be like a drug.”

Holding Vanessa’s eyes with her own, Judith said, “I’ve got a cold dinner ready. Boiled shrimp and diced cheese. I just have to cut the fruit for the salad. And champagne. Let’s make a girl’s night of it, shall we? Karen, take Vanessa into the dressing room and get her dolled up. You’ll love what Karen can do for you, Vanessa. She has real talent. She could work in Hollywood doing hair, clothes, and makeup. Go now. Take your time.”

Karen took Vanessa by the hand and led her away. Judith, confident of being obeyed, got to work on finishing preparation of the meal.

Karen led Vanessa to a hall, turned left, and entered the first room on the right. The large closet with double bi-fold doors and the bathroom on the side informed Vanessa that the builders had designed this room as a bedroom despite the fact that it contained no bed. Instead, there was a large chest of drawers and what looked like a chair in a hair salon. Ceiling to floor mirrors covered the wall abutting the hallway.

As Vanessa looked around, Karen opened one side of the closet and rifled through the clothes hanging there until she brought kayseri escort out a short, coral-colored robe and held it out for Vanessa. She smiled and said, “Take off all your clothes and put this on.”

Having finished her inspection and finally being alone with Karen, Vanessa frowned and didn’t reach for the robe. “I’m not doing a damn thing until you answer some questions.”

The smile fell from Karen’s face and she hung her head. Without saying a word, she put her arms around Vanessa’s waist and buried her face in her lover’s blonde waves. Then she murmured, “I love you. I know you’re angry, but remember that I love you, please.”

Vanessa stood still, refusing to return Karen’s hug. Karen hugged tighter and repeated, “I love you. I love you.”

Vanessa relented and put her arms around Karen’s neck. After a few moments, she ran her fingers through Karen’s hair and said, “Alright. I’m not angry, well, not very angry. But you need to tell me what the hell’s going on here? What’s with Judith and that corset and this ‘girl’s night’ and all? She’s trying to seduce me, isn’t she? And you’re in on it, aren’t you? How can you say you love me and then … conspire in Judith seducing me?”

Karen kissed the blonde. Vanessa tolerated it but didn’t respond. When Karen broke the kiss, Vanessa said, “I won’t be put off. We’re not making love until you answer my questions.”

“You already know. You’ve seen Judith. You’ve heard her. You’ve felt her charisma, her power, for yourself. I know you did because I watched you closely. It’s okay that you’re interested in her. And you know she’s my mistress. I have to do what she says. I’ve told you that, too.”

“Yeah, I remember, but you didn’t mention that she had any interest in me.”

Karen hung her head. “She wouldn’t let me. She didn’t want you to refuse to come. If you had, she would’ve punished me.”

“Punished you? How? This ain’t grade school for Christ’s sake. What the fuck?”

Karen closed her eyes and a pleading tone entered her voice. “Just her disapproval is a lot, but she can do things like force me to take a week off work, or make me do things to her customers that they like but I don’t. It’s hard to say exactly, but that’s only part of it. She knows women. She made me tell her everything about you that I knew and decided that you’d be interested in her if she handled it right. And I can tell you right now, since she’s seen you, she’s ga-ga over you.”

Vanessa frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean she wants you in the worst kind of way, I can tell from the way she looked at you, and she’ll treat you very well. I know what that’s like. I was SO infatuated with her for about two months. Remember I told you? I never felt better than that time.” She put her arms back around Vanessa’s waist. “Until I met you. I’m completely in love with you. If I thought Judith would harm you, I would’ve refused to cooperate and fuck the consequences. But I know her. She’ll exert herself to please you. If you think I’ve done a good job pleasing you, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Karen waiting, staring into Vanessa’s eyes, clearly wanting a kiss or some sign of affection from the lovely blonde.

Vanessa said, “Dammit, you’re right. Judith is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and something about her draws me in. You can call it charisma, power, whatever, I feel it. So long as you’re part of what goes on, I’ll relax and cooperate, okay?”

Karen kissed her hard and long. When she had to stop to breathe, she said, “I’ve got to get you ready. Judith was right, I have a talent for choosing the best colors and clothes for women to show off their skin tone and make them as sexy as possible.” She held out the robe.

Vanessa took it and began disrobing. “What do you call this color?”

“Coral. You have a warm skin tone and blonde hair, so coral will look good on you.”

“How do you know I have a warm skin tone?”

Karen took Vanessa’s wrist and turned the underside of her arm up. “Look at the veins in your wrist. Do they have a blue, purple, or green tint?”

Vanessa wrinkled her nose and frowned. “Blood’s all red. Why would my veins be those colors?”

“Because you’re looking at the blood through your skin. If you look at something while wearing tinted glasses, it will take on different shades of color than without the glasses.”

Vanessa said, “I see. Well,” she looked at the veins in her wrist, “you’re right. They look a little green.”

Karen nodded, “That means you have warm skin tone and that will suggest what color foundation and clothing will look best on you. Finish getting undressed and put on the robe and then look in the mirror. You’ll see.”

The robe was opaque but very smooth and silky. When pulled tight, Vanessa’s nipples showed. Vanessa thought, “It might even be real silk.” She looked into the mirror and turned left and right. “You’re right. This color does look good on me.”

While Vanessa had been busy with the robe, Karen had found and extracted several articles of lingerie, a bra with underwire support but sheer cups, a thong that snapped on the sides, a garter belt, and a pair of sheer stockings with plain toes and seams up the back. The stockings were flesh-toned and the other pieces were coral. Karen added a pair of strappy sandals with five inch heels. She laid the articles out on the top of the chest of drawers. Vanessa stared at them wide-eyed.

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CH. 03. – RACHAEL SEES LIGHT – 2

Prologue:

This is CH. 03 of my second erotic story submitted to Literotica. I continue being thankfully indebted to Candy_Kane54 for providing editing, style advice, and general encouragement for my several erotic story submissions.

Primary Characters:

Rachael (Rach) Saunders: MBA and Business Owner = 26 Years Old

Shels Gordon: HS Senior and Lost Girl

= 19 Years Old

Ames Davis: HS Senior and Lost Girl

= 19 Years Old

M. Chee (Moon) Hahn: HS Senior and Lost Girl
= 18 Years Old

Kelly Phillips: Resident Manager St. John’s Group Home = 24 Years Old

As CH. 02 ended, Rach was phoning Kelly, the N. Florida Group Home Resident Manager. She planned to discuss an idea with Kelly regarding the Group Home Residents visiting Tybee for ten days of fun and learning.

Rach had held several conversations with Pam regarding Kelly, the St. John’s Group Home Resident Manager, on how Kelly could advise Rach on maintaining good relations with Shels, Ames, and Moon. Although Kelly’s residents were younger girls, seven to thirteen years old, there were some commonalities with Rach’s situation. Finally, Rach said to Pam, there was an idea she would like to discuss directly with Kelly. Rach asked if it was okay for her to phone Kelly first, and she would then discuss the concept with Pam if they both agreed. Pam replied definitely, and Rach should phone Kelly when convenient for her.

Rach decided it was best to phone Kelly later in the morning after the Group Home girls would be at the St. John’s Day School. Rach would also arrange for Shels, Ames, and Moon to work on an office project with Cat that morning. She and Kelly could then have an in-depth conversation without being interrupted.

Kelly answered the phone after only two rings, and Rach introduced herself as a former St. John’s community member who now lived on Tybee. Kelly replied that Pam had mentioned Rach’s situation and to expect a call from her. However, Pam hadn’t discussed any details.

Rach said she had a proposition for Kelly, who laughed and shot back that they had just met by phone. Now Rach intended to proposition her for sex? She then added that Rach was definitely a fast mover!

Rach was very embarrassed and stuttered OH NO, not that kind of proposition.

Kelly came right back at Rach and said, girl, you were so out there, and Pam had not mentioned that Rach from Tybee liked girls!

Rach was totally flustered now, although Kelly’s sense of humor intrigued her. Well, she thought, Kelly was joking around!

My proposition was a real one, Rach countered. Kelly hit right back; it definitely sounded like a fake excuse for a sexual invite to her.

Rach was actually sputtering now!

Kelly followed up, telling Rach to cool her jets. She likes to have fun messing with new and gullible friends. It seems that Pam had not told Rach that Kelly was the consummate jokester!

Okay, sweetie, what was the real proposition?

Rach said she wanted to offer Kelly and her resident girls a ten-day vacation to Tybee Island next month.

Absolute Silence! Rach to Kelly, was she there?

Kelly to Rach! Did she hear her correctly?

.

Rach said she would briefly state her thoughts, and if Kelly agreed, they could organize the travel details via email. Rach had met three teenage girls one week ago and, for some unknown reason, wanted to help them. Things had spiraled nearly out of control with her now becoming the girl’s legal guardian, and they lived with her. Rach’s problem was she had always been a loner and reared as an only child. Therefore she had no sense of relating closely with others, especially teenaged girls.

Rach absolutely did not regret her decision. However, she realized she needed input from someone on the ground who was experienced in relating to children. Pam had raved so much about Kelly caring for the Group Home residents that Rach thought, BINGO, Kelly’s the one! Rach wanted Kelly’s residents and a few others from St. John’s to visit Tybee for fun, which was also a learning experience for Kelly’s resident girls. Additionally, Rach wanted lots of one on one time with Kelly. She hoped to develop more insight into how she could improve Shels, Ames, and Moon lives. She wanted them to be happy and successful, especially attending university and earning a degree. Rach was totally sold on Kelly being able to help her. However, there were significant age gaps between the Group Home resident girls and Rach’s three late teen girls. According to Pam, Rach and Kelly were basically the same age, university graduates, and nice people.

Finally, Rach was a business owner, with her company finances in great shape after only two years of operating. Rach had also earned lots of money investing in cheap stock during her final two years of study. She did not want to just throw money at the girls trying to buy their love. Rach wanted a family hatay escort relationship with Shels, Ames, and Moon truly based on mutual love and respect.

Rach proposed to book a resort for thirty-five guests who included ten local persons and twenty-five people from the St. John’s community. The ten days would be split evenly between fun and school-like activities, such as visiting the Girl Scout Museum in Savannah or a Sea Scavenger Hunt. Rach and Kelly would officially propose the ten-day travel to Tybee as a Studycation for the Group Home residents.

Rach ended the offer by stating that her company would fund the entire Studycation expense. This would include round trip travel by luxury coach, lodging, meals, museum tickets, and other valid travel expenses. What were Kelly’s thoughts on the proposition?

Kelly replied she was all for Rach’s proposition of Tybee with no Sex! She continued, seriously, a trip such as this would be awesome for her girls. However, she would need this request approved by Jai, Pam, and the Group Home Board.

Rach replied that they should iron out the wrinkles by email and phone, and then Kelly could present the completed proposal to the board. Rach wanted Kelly, the two resident assistants, and Pam and Jenny to travel with the girls to Tybee. There would be a few formal classes during the ten days. However, most of the education and fun activities would be in the form of field trips. Jenny should also know there was easy access to an excellent riding stable where she could hold a few equestrian training exercises.

Kelly said they should definitely do this but that she needed to run. See you next month if the board approved their proposal!

Kelly had several conversations with the local N. Florida Group Home Board Members and Rach, following up on their initial phone communication where Rach offered the travel proposal. She had tried to discretely learn more about Rach from others at St. John’s; however, Rach’s life seemed to be a well-kept secret. As far as anybody knew, Rach was an only child and a loner who was quite brilliant throughout her secondary school and university education. As a high school junior, she had received a full five-year MBA degree scholarship to the ACC University in Boston.

Tragedy struck in Rach’s senior year of high school when her parents died in a boating accident. She recovered from this stressful event and graduated from university with honors. Rach then moved to Tybee and formed her company which was quite successful. Kelly could not glean much else about Rach’s past, such as was she ever in a serious dating relationship.

Kelly finally cornered Pam one day after they met with the board to finalize approval of the Studycation. Kelly informed Pam that she had a bit of a dilemma and needed more information and details from her about Rach. In their most recent phone call, Rach had suggested that Kelly share a small suite with her for the Tybee Studycation. She and Kelly would have considerable more time to discuss Rach’s new parenting situation in the evenings if they shared a small suite. Kelly said she felt Rach was honest and open, with no ulterior motive(s) when she suggested they share the suite during the visit. However, Kelly was quite intrigued about Rach, who seemed to be kind of a mystery to much of the St. John’s community.

Pam smiled wickedly at Kelly and asked, had Kelly crushed on someone during their several phone conversations?

Kelly blushed brightly and said, stop it! She just wanted to learn a bit more about the person she had frequently talked with during the past two weeks.

Pam said she honestly knew very little about Rach, other than she came from the St. John’s community and was quite innovative in business. Rach was seven years older than Pam’s group of friends and a loner, so they had never hung out in N. Florida. Pam did not think Rach had ever seriously dated anyone and was often slyly called the introverted loner by a few folks at St. John’s. Pam personally felt that Rach was a nice person who was a bit shy around most people. However, if Kelly was worried, she should politely decline Rach’s offer and bunk in with her Group Home girls.

Kelly quickly responded that she had no reservations about sharing the suite with Rach. It actually could be fun for both of them. However, she was a young lady, so it was natural for her to be inquisitive about someone new.

Pam was on the run but gave Kelly a final gem to consider. Remember that she was also a mystery to Rach, and yet, she wanted to share a small suite with Kelly. Obviously, Rach felt comfortable with Kelly. After all, the two had spoken many times in the past two weeks. The Rach that most of St. John’s knew had never before invited anyone to share her personal space. Therefore, it was very possible that Rach had changed a lot since she met the teenaged girls Shels, Ames, and Moon, who now lived with her.

Kelly ığdır escort thanked Pam for her insight and that she definitely would share quarters with Rach while on Tybee. She felt a pull toward Rach and was trying to understand girl-to-girl relationships. Kelly had never felt drawn to another woman before and was also intrigued to know how Rach felt about their budding friendship.

Kelly had spent several restless evenings pondering if there was an actual sexual attraction between her and Rach. Finally, she scolded herself, saying, Kelly, this is stupid. How could she be attracted to someone she never saw or met? Yet, her mind kept returning to the point that Rach invited Kelly deep into her personal space. There was not much more personal the two could get than sharing a small space for ten days.

Then crazy thoughts came to Kelly, such as would she see Rach naked or did she want to see Rach naked?

***

A month after Rach and Kelly’s first conversation, the Group Home resident girls, along with their chaperones, were en route to Tybee for their Studycation. The board had approved Kelly’s Studycation request because it was a well-developed plan which enriched the resident girls’ lives. Kelly, her two resident assistants, Pam, Jenny, Kim, and Alice, accompanied the Group Home girls to Tybee. Pam and Jenny drove up to Tybee while Kelly, Kim, Alice, and everyone else traveled there on the luxury motorcoach.

Pam had several legal documents from her sister “2’s” law firm for Rach to sign regarding her becoming the Guardian for Shels, Ames, and Moon. Pam and Jenny would witness Rach’s signature and return the completed documents to the Law Firm when the Studycation was finished. The next time Rach visited N. Florida, she could initial the documents again, and the Law Firm would notarize them.

Rach had booked them into a small year-round tourist hotel and resort, and their group occupied a complete wing on the resort side. The younger girls, aged seven to twelve, shared a large suite with several small fold-out beds. Pam and Jenny were the counselors for this group. The teen girls, aged thirteen to fifteen, shared another large suite with Kelly’s two resident assistants, who were the counselors for those girls. Shels, Ames, and Moon would share a large double room connected to this quite large suite. Rach’s three girls were in the same age range as Kelly’s two resident assistants, so they should enjoy being a part of that group.

Rach and Kelly also shared a suite in this wing as previously planned. The two of them had developed an easy-going relationship planning the Studycation, so Rach wanted to talk a lot with Kelly about how she related to the older Group Home girls.

There were many activities scheduled for the next ten days, but the first stop on Tybee was a brief tour of Rach’s business and then a late lunch at Angie’s restaurant. Everyone was definitely hungry following the three-hour motorcoach ride. Angie greeted the group and told them there were six special selections on the menu to choose for their lunch. Each selection included a salad, dessert choice, and soft drinks. The younger children could choose jello fruit cups instead of salads, and there would be several plates of fries for everyone. She also informed the adults that Angie’s was an alcohol-free family restaurant.

After Angie finished discussing the menu items, Rach stood and informed everyone that most of their meals would be there. Breakfast was excluded since it was included in the resort room package. Angie’s was a ten-minute walk from their office and served as her company’s dining room. The restaurant would also deliver boxed lunches when work was extremely busy. Finally, if anyone had any specific dietary restrictions, please make sure that Angie knew. She would strive to offer enjoyable foods within their dietary needs.

Rach wished everyone a great Studycation and to have a nice visit to Tybee, including Savannah in SE Georgia.

Once everyone had finished the late lunch at Angie’s, they checked into the resort, and all were soon settled in their rooms. The adults relaxed while the younger girls buzzed around with obvious joy. This trip was a dream come true for the girls, most of whom just two years ago were stuck in abusive homes, juvenile delinquent centers (JDCs), or abandoned to Foster care. Now they were on Studycation in a beautiful resort on Tybee Island for ten whole days!

Rach had thought of Kelly frequently over the past month. She was secretly pleased that Kelly agreed to share the suite with her. Rach was definitely intrigued with Kelly, although she could not fathom why.

Rach, stop lying to yourself, and admit you like Kelly a lot!

Following check-in, Rach and Kelly had comfortably settled in their small suite. Rach was totally frustrated with herself because she had always resisted any romantic inclinations. Then Kelly asked her the Sixty-Four ısparta escort Thousand Dollar question. How much in total was this Studycation costing Rach?

Rach pondered this for a moment and then replied that she honestly didn’t know the exact amount. Twenty thousand dollars was a good guess. Rach further commented that life had changed so much since she met her girls, and bringing the two groups of young, early and late teen girls together for a week or more of fun just felt right. Rach’s company was doing very well, and she had her own private investments as well. Rach did not smoke, go out to nightclubs, and only drank an occasional glass of nice wine. So, she was not concerned about the cost and just wanted all of the children to enjoy their Studycation.

Rach had given joy to Shels, Ames, and Moon, motivating them to learn many new things. But, what really amazed Rach was having the girls in her home. Life with them had lifted her spirits enormously, and Rach now viewed life in a much more positive way.

Shels, Ames, and Moon’s studies were going great guns based on Pam’s recent conversations with her. Rach generously bought clothes and other personal items for the three girls, and yet they had not once been greedy. Each one of them hugged and kissed her on the cheek several times a day and thanked her for giving them a new life. Rach was just so invigorated and happy now. Still, there was probably one more part of her life that needed rejuvenation.

Rach stared intently into Kelly’s eyes and then shyly said they would talk more on this later.

For a moment, Kelly’s beating heart made her feel as though she had run a hundred-meter dash. She then said to herself, slow down, girl, this conversation just got real.

Rach continued saying she was finalizing the plans for her new home when she first met Shell, Ames, and Moon. She then quickly modified those plans to include them. Rach cried at their stunned reactions when they saw the plans for their wing of the main house. She had previously spoken with Cat and Jocelyn about their permanently staying with them since they were so active in the girls’ lives. They agreed, so a second wing was added for those two.

Rach then quietly confided to Kelly that she had signed over twenty-five percent of the investment company to Cat. Rach asked Kelly to keep this confidential for now since she had not told Cat yet. Cat was the first person Rach hired when she started her company. Cat was a super Business Manager who had helped Rach to grow the successful investment firm. Rach was not giving Cat twenty-five percent of the company and six hundred thousand dollars of this year’s profits. Cat had earned every penny for being totally loyal to Rach and the business and now for helping Rach with the girls.

Kelly stood absolutely speechless at Rach’s last statement, which mentioned six hundred thousand dollars of profits to Cat, along with twenty-five percent of the company.

Rach continued that Cat was the first person in the company who met Shels when she wandered in lost, confused, and so cute. After Rach met Shels and became protective of her, Cat had spent every night by Rach’s side helping stabilize the three girls’ lives.

Cat and Jocelyn already seemed to act as a couple; however, they were also strange birds. Both were video game nuts, fantastic at Math and Business, and dressed in an oddly cute way. They adored Shels, Ames, and Moon, helping Rach with her unusual task of allowing herself to bond with others. Rach felt that Cat and Jocelyn would soon become a fully committed couple. Then on second thought, Rach added, they were now a couple fully committed to Rach’s girls.

Rach asked Kelly if she would sit on the patio and share a nice glass of wine with her on this beautiful evening? Kelly answered that would be awesome, assuming all formal activities were finished for today. Kelly then suggested that they get changed into casual shorts and tops, to which Rach agreed.

They returned to the patio, and Rach asked Kelly to move a little closer to her, which she did. As they relaxed and sipped the wine, Rach spoke of her previous life as a satisfied loner. A life that had changed dramatically because of the three girls now in her home and under her care. Rach had finally understood that her acceptance of being alone was most likely a defense mechanism. This prevented Rach from opening her heart at the risk of being hurt or rejected. In the past month, she had communicated almost daily with Kelly, making it her happiest month ever since her parent’s death. Kelly had become Rach’s first and only close special friend. Rach was now absolutely terrified of her intense feelings for Kelly.

Nevertheless, Rach needed to ask Kelly a question.

Would she consider?

YES! YES! YES! Kelly excitedly interjected, and then she jumped into Rach’s lap, kissed her wetly, and happily declared that she was Rach’s girlfriend! Kelly felt they should carefully move forward with their love because of the many affected children. Still, she definitely wanted Rach in her life forever. Kelly continued as huge tears streaked her cheeks and whispered to Rach; those were the words she so much wanted to hear from her this week at Tybee.

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My dreams that night were an incredible mixture of erotic, bizare and confusing scenes involving Millie, Lizzie and me. In all of them we were naked.

In one of them the three of us were running hand in hand through a field of wheat, the tips were around waist height, the summer sun heating us, the wind blowing our hair wildly around our heads.

In another we were sitting next to each other on a wide, plush sofa in the lounge of Lizzie’s house. The furnishings were completely different from Lizzie’s more modern style. We were surrounded by women in capped sleeved, full length Regency dresses. They were all watching the three of us pleasuring ourselves while they smiled at us and each other.

In yet another we were in a room of the house that I didn’t recognise. It was sparsely furnished, with a couple of chairs around the edges of the room. The floor had a deep pile, soft and comfortable carpet and we were lying on it. We were once more surrounded by women who were, this time, naked, and all of us were pleasuring each other in a variety of ways.

The visions continued, vivid and very realistic, a selection of vignettes of erotic scenes rolling through. All of my senses were activated. Scents, touches, tastes. In many of them I came to orgasm.

I finally awoke as the sun shone through the gap in the curtains. After all the erotic dreams I could feel my whole body was energised.

I felt Lizzie’s hand around my waist. We had clearly ended up spooning in the night with me being the little spoon. As my mind slowly came to full wakefulness I was aware of my own arm draped over someone in front of me. I opened my eyes and there, facing me and smiling, was Millie.

She kissed me and whispered, “Good morning, Strict Anna. What wonderful dreams we shared. You made my memories come vividly back to life. You’ve made me so happy.”

I looked into her smiling eyes and quietly asked, “You had the same dreams? Those things happened to you? You’ve led an… interesting life.”

Millie placed a soft kiss on my lips and said, “I have learned and taught so much in my time.”

I felt Lizzie stir and then say what I hadn’t had a chance to express. “Millie? You’re… back… but it’s daytime. You don’t have to just be here at night?”

I shuddered with delighted shock as Millie ran her fingers down over my already erect and excited nipples. I felt Lizzie’s hand stroking gently on my mound.

Millie said, “It is All Hallows Eve, Lizzie. I can be anywhere today and, if you help me, I can be here for longer.”

I tried to focus on her words but the combination of the two of them stroking me was incredibly distracting. As if they were unaware of the effect they were having on me they carried on the conversation as Lizzie started stroking down over my clit.

“You… you can be here for longer? How?”

I parted my legs slightly as Lizzies fingers explored further down, stroking at my entrance.

At that moment Millie’s other hand joined Lizzie’s, stroking between my legs. The heat in me was intense, the orgasm that had been fuelled all night by our dreams was so close. I moaned.

Millie said, “Shh, daughter of my love, let’s focus on Strict Anna. All will be revealed later.”

I willingly gave myself over to their touches and kisses, pushing back against Lizzie, feeling her breasts pressing into my back as she placed kisses on my neck. Millie kissed me and the kiss lit my whole body up. At that precise moment I felt someone’s fingers slide into me, filling me, stretching me. I was lost in a mist of lust and desire. My orgasm exploded from me and I started shaking and crying out. Millie’s kiss seemed to add to it, lifting me higher and higher. I felt the fingers deep in me, on me, pinching my nipple, and it just carried on.

Eventually I was lost in another world. I opened my eyes to see I was lying with Millie and Lizzie but there was nothing but white mist surrounding us. My orgasm was still there, stretching on and on. I was calling out and the mist seemed to dampen and absorb my words.

Eventually it started to subside and I closed my eyes once more, revelling in my now completely satiated self.

When I opened them again I was back in the bedroom with Lizzie and Millie kissing me softly on my neck and shoulder.

I finally found my voice. “Wow. Where was that, Millie?”

She broke away and smiled, “You saw it? The white mist?”

Lizzie broke in, “I saw it too! Like we were there, floating.”

“That is the place we go when we come fully and where I’ve been forced to live at times. It is where we will need to be tonight if you are to summon me fully.”

Lizzie now asked the question which, somehow, we hadn’t asked yet.

“Who… what… are you?”

Millie looked a little sad for a moment before replying, “I don’t really remember. I’ve always been here. I have memories. You saw some of them in our dreams. That night when we were all together, making love on the floor, so many of us, that is one of my favourite memories but strangely, elazığ escort I don’t think it has happened yet.”

Lizzie burst in. “That room filled with naked women all making love? You saw that too? That happened?”

Millie smiled, “Something like it did although sadly you weren’t there. None of those women were there the last time it happened.”

I had a question now, “So why didn’t you ever ask Lizzie’s mum to help you?”

She smiled wistfully before replying. “I always tried to tell Margaret it was possible but I think she was a little scared and I hadn’t fully understood everything. I’m still learning as I return more completely than I have in centuries. I do know that it can only happen on this day. You have to summon me into myself at midnight. “

Lizzie said, “But… oh no. We’re having a party tonight. A Halloween party. There will almost certainly be a few guests still here. How…”

Millie stopped her by leaning over me to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“Don’t worry. We will find a way. Only those who want to be here will still be here at midnight. I’m so happy you brought me here. I will finally be completely free.”

I was confused now, “I brought you here?”

Millie nodded and said, “You were in my bed. In your dream I saw you. You called out to me.”

“I… I don’t remember. I…”

She smiled, “And yet it happened. You drew me to you. Your need.”

Lizzie finally broke the moment by saying, “I hate to be practical but we still have a party to arrange, and you and I have to dress in our Moriticia outfits, Anna. Um… Millie… you’ll be here all day? Will you be at the party?”

She smiled and said, “I will, although to begin with only you will be able to see me.”

I looked at her and said, “And will you come in a costume?”

She kissed me briefly before saying, “All will be revealed.”

The rest of the day before the party was a bit of a whirl of activity. Lizzie and I hurriedly dressed in jeans, tees and trainers before heading downstairs. Millie was suddenly adorned in a full length, sleeveless, diaphanous white dress. It was very obvious she was wearing no underwear. Her pert breasts, nipples and areola were clearly visible, as was her full mound of hair and her seemingly permanently puffy pussy lips.

We worked through the day to put all the external decorations up, Millie helping us by acting as a sort of creative director telling us where things looked better. We grabbed a light lunch and I was surprised that Millie also ate. I’m not sure why it surprised me, but it did. If she was a ghost why would she need to? Next we started preparing the finger food and bowl of punch for the evening. All the food was themed around Halloween such as mini pizzas with spiders constructed from black olives; eyeball hors d’oeuvres and a salad made to look like a skeleton.

All the time, as Millie was with us, she would stop each of us occasionally and kiss us. Her kiss was mesmerising. Her very presence seemed to emanate a feeling of lust and desire that we were unable to fulfil but more and more desperately wanted to.

We ended up showering ahead of getting into our outfits, Millie left us to it and the temptation to pleasure each other was almost insurmountable but we were very conscious of the clock being against us.

We got into Lizzie’s room where she had the dresses and wigs hanging in her wardrobe. Millie joined us to, once again, offer artistic tips. The dresses were full length with a plunge neckline down to around our belly buttons and a front split to well above mid thigh. They had the classic lantern sleeves and tulip base. Underneath we both wore a black suspender belt, black stockings and matching lacy black g-strings, due to the plunge neckline bras weren’t an option. We’d bought black heels with bindings up to mid calf to complete the ensemble.

We did each others’ makeup. Matching bright red lipstick with grey eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner. There was a feeling like we were a couple of teenagers getting ready for our first big party. There was a lot of excitement and nervous anticipation in both of us. Millie’s very presence added to that.

Once we were dressed Millie stood back, a delicious smile on her beautiful face and put a critical thumb and forefinger on her chin before declaring, “Perfect. Just perfect. You will be the belles of the ball.”

She approached Lizzie first and kissed her softly. I watched as her hand brushed down between her breasts and then on down over the material of the dress. Lizzie shuddered and I saw her eyes close as she let out a soft moan.

Then Millie came to me and repeated everything. The kiss followed by the stroke and I felt a rush of fire in me. My wetness increased and I felt my clit throbbing with deep need. My breathing deepened and became rapid.

When her lips left mine I finally managed to gather myself and say, “What… Millie… what was that? That was wonderful.”

She smiled and looked from me erzincan escort to Lizzie and back to me. “It is my gift. It will aid us this evening.”

Lizzie said, “You’re going to make me come if you do that to me too often, Millie.”

Millie smiled. “You will come with me into the grey world, along with the chosen.”

I was confused. “The chosen?”

Millie smiled enigmatically and just replied, “All will become clear. Now, your first guests are about to arrive, Lizzie. You should be there to greet them.”

She turned and swept out of the room, Lizzie and I in her wake, holding each others’ hands like the lovers we now clearly were. Just the touch of Lizzie’s hand on mine now sparked straight through me, giving me a jolt not dissimilar to the feeling Millie had just provided. What was happening to me? To us?

We got to the hallway and then exited out into the early dark of this late October night. The air was cool but I felt only warmth and heat. The lights of the house flooded out from behind us, lighting the driveway with a soft glow and, sure enough, as we stood at the top of the marble steps a small group of five people, all in costume, walked through the gate and up the driveway. Millie stood in front of us, on the step below.

Leading the group was a stunning couple, walking hand in hand.

One was a beautiful black woman. She was dressed as Cleopatra with a see-through, full length black body stocking covering her arms, body and legs down to her ankles, Over this was layered a black and gold striped top that crossed over her breasts, obviously passed around behind her and then down around her front, crossing once more over her mound, leaving her flat belly on display. Falling from below the lower part was a pleated, translucent drop of black material which fell to the floor, covering her modesty. On her head her straight black hair was tied in a ponytail and there was a golden braid that circled her with two golden plaits falling just either side of her face.

Her companion was a slightly shorter Indian looking woman, dressed as Pocahontas. Her dress was a fawn colour with blue edging and silver tassels. It was off the shoulder on one side, and bias cut on the hem so that it was higher on the same side as the off the shoulder part, revealing a very smooth expanse of thigh

The black woman called out, “Lizzie!” and waved.

Lizzie called back, “Hi Angela! Rhea! Lovely to see you both!”

The rest of the group consisted of a sexy witch, a guy who had dressed as a character from Avatar, including having painted his skin blue, and a woman dressed as a sexy cat, with a tail and kitty ears.

Lizzie lifted my hand in hers and said, “Angela, Rhea, this is my friend Anna, and this is Millie…”

Angela and Rhea looked a little confused and Millie turned, smiled and winked at us.

Angela said, “Um… Millie? Who’s Millie? Where’s Millie?”

They couldn’t see her. Millie had warned us but it didn’t seem possible.

I thought quickly and stammered out, “Millie. Yes, Millie. It’s Lizzie’s pet name for… her house. Her new house.”

Angela and Rhea looked quizzically at me but just smiled. As Angela came up to me, Millie stepped aside, her dress lightly flapping in the breeze. Angela held out her hand, “Nice to meet you Anna,” while Rhea gave Lizzie a hug.

I took her hand in mine and replied, “Lovely to meet you too, Angela.”

They swapped over and I got a delicious kiss on each cheek from Rhea and a hug. She whispered, “I love your Morticias! Lovely to meet you, Anna.”

Lizzie said, “Okay all, let’s get indoors. I want you to see all the wonderful decorations that Anna, Millie… sorry, Anna and I have set up in Millie.”

We turned and followed Millie indoors. We’d lowered the lights and put filters on others so that there were areas of blue, red and green all through the hall, lounge and kitchen. There were fake cobwebs everywhere as well as a coffin with fake blood oozing down the sides in one corner of the hall. We went into the lounge and Lizzie started the Halloween themed playlist from the iPad we’d set up there.

Over the next hour the house filled up with new people and Lizzie and I did our best to be the wonderful hostesses we dreamed of being. There were thirty or more people, all in wonderful costumes.

Both Lizzie and I watched as Millie wandered around among the guests. She would walk up behind them and brush their necks with her lips. Depending on how they reacted she would then wait until she could stand in front of them and, as she had done with us earlier, she would run her finger down between their breasts, another common theme was that they were all women, and then her hand would seem to sink into the material of their outfit just between their legs. We watched as most of them reacted in the way we had. Their faces flushed and their eyes seemed to sparkle. When that happened, Millie could place a soft kiss on their lips and move away.

The ones who received Millie’s erzurum escort kiss were Angel, Rhea, and four others.

The first one was Jen, a friend of Lizzie’s who had come as some sort of Renaissance Princess. She was wearing a beautiful, crimson full length dress with bell sleeves, a tight bodice and a slash on the left up to hip height exposing the taffeta layers underneath. She had a pink ruff around her neck and in her long, straight black hair she wore a matching crimson, heart shaped, felt tiara. She looked beautiful, the outfit emphasising her delicious, hourglass shape.

The next was Jill, a beautiful blond American who lived nearby in the village. She had come as a very sexy looking Red Riding Hood. She wore a red, hooded cape under which she had a deeper red basque and full length skirt which had a slit up to the top of her thigh which revealed she was wearing black leather boots which came up above her knee. Everything was tied together with deep black ribbon and she was carrying a basket of fruit with a red and black checked lining.

Next came Christa, a very shapely latin beauty with dark hair and a beautiful shape that was more than enhanced by her gothic outfit. It was, of course, black, off the shoulder with full length lace sleeves, a corset dress that came to above mid thigh, the skirt portion was layered over with the same black lace, high at the front and sweeping down in layers at the back so that it just brushed the floor. Her black heels completed it to a tee.

The final one was Laura. She was dressed as a very alluring witch doctor. She had a black, long tailed waistcoat under which she had a purple low cut vest which showed the mounds of her breasts beautifully. She was wearing black and, in places see-through, shorts. The black patches covering her intimate areas, but only just. On top of her dirty blond hair she wore a tall, black brimmed leather hat adorned with feathers and a small skull perched at the front. She also wore a skeleton mask covering just her eyes, shaped perfectly to her nose. The most intriguing addition was that, at her waist, dangled a set of cream leather handcuffs connected to each other by a twelve inch long chain.

Somehow Millie conspired to gather all six of them, along with Lizzie and myself, in a social group. Millie seemed to just place her hand in the smalls of their backs and slowly they moved together. I also noticed that we were the only ones not drinking alcohol. For me that was a choice because I wanted to be totally with it when the time came for whatever was going to happen.

Over the next few hours people started saying their goodbyes and when it came to just before eleven in the evening I realised that, counting Millie, we were the only nine people left.

I noticed Laura in particular looking mostly at me. She had a delightful American accent, a wonderful sense of fun and looked sexy as hell. Millie said to me, “She wants you, Strict Anna. She really wants you.”

I shuddered as I felt her touch through the material of my dress. My soaking pussy seemed to drench even more. I almost lost my footing. It felt like I was right on the edge of coming.

I turned to Millie and said, “It’s a pity they can’t see you, Millie. You look so gorgeous.”

She smiled and moved to stand between Lizzie and me, taking our hands in hers and there was a sudden gasp from the other five guests.

Angela was the first to speak, “Lizzie… how… how did you do that?”

I said, “You can see her, Angela?”

She just nodded and continued to stare at Millie.

Millie smiled and said, “Ladies, may I introduce myself properly? I am Millie.”

Rhea said, “Sorry, what? You’re Lizzie’s house?”

Millie giggled. “No, adorable Rhea. That was Strict Anna’s little lie to cover up that she had only just discovered that you couldn’t see me.”

Jen’s voice shook a little as she asked nervously, “What… are you? Are you a ghost?”

Millie shook her head. “No, sweet Jen. I am… something else. We will all discover soon what I am in truth.”

I saw Laura get a questioning look on her face. A hint of suspicion. “Are you the one who made me suddenly really turned on a couple of hours ago?”

Millie bit her lip and said, “Yes, luscious Laura. That was my little gift to urge you to stay.”

“Fuck. I’ve been drenched ever since. My clit thinks she’s being permanently kissed. I nearly went to find a bathroom so I could get myself off.”

I was a little surprised at just how direct she was being but, given my own state, I was glad Lizzie and I weren’t the only ones.

Jill said, “God, I want to feel like this forever. You can do that?”

Millie went up to Jill and placed her lips against hers and stroked under the gap in her skirt. I heard Jill gasp and Millie said, “Oh, Jill with the eyes you can fall into, yes.”

Angela said, “But… why? What’s all this for? I don’t understand.”

Millie turned to look at Angela and said, “This is the night I can return fully but it takes a lot of energy. There is an energy released by an orgasm that I need. Not just one, but many.”

Angela looked into her eyes and, I knew, she was as mesmerised as all of us by Millie. The feelings of heat and need were always there. She nodded slowly and then smiled, “You want us to come for you?”

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I was standing outside the door of my new boss. The door was shut and I hesitated to knock. Frankly, I was apprehensive. The transfer had come suddenly, moving me from a job at once familiar yet confining to a promotion that would thrust me on a much more visible stage. I knocked, and was told to come in. I walked up to the desk and said, “Hi, I’m Fran, your new assistant.”

“Welcome, I’ve been awaiting your arrival. I’m Sherri, and I’m glad you’re here.” With that, she got up and walked around the desk to give me a hug. After the hug, she shocked me by leaning down and kissing me on the lips. I’m 5’6″ without heels and she was at least 3-4 inches taller than I was, even before the heels she was wearing. She was immaculately dressed in a flowing dress and tall, black heels.

“Close the door, Fran, and let’s discuss the job.”

I did so and she guided me into one of the chairs in front of her desk before setting in the matching chair.

“I realize this position will be different than your last, but it comes with certain perks you might like and enjoy. You’ll be on time or preferably early daily. I expect you to wear a dress and heels daily, along with thigh high stockings. I think that when we dress well we perform at a higher level. You will be promoted to senior executive assistant with a commensurate raise, extra vacation, and travel opportunities. Before I go further, please lock the door.”

Bewildered, I rose and locked the door. I returned to my chair.

“I have other needs from this position. When asked, I expect you to enter, locked the door, come to the side of my desk, unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor, remove your bra, and stand before me in the smallest thong you have. Then you will kneel beside me, remove my thong, pull my dress to my waist, move between my thighs and begin licking my black pussy. If this shocks you, I understand. You may choose to transfer to another position in the company without prejudice.” With that, she removed her own thong and raised her skirt to her waist. I found myself staring at a bald, black pussy. I looked up at her, our eyes meeting, then my eyes moved back to gazing at her pussy. I’ve never found women’s pussies all that inviting. I kept my own shaved, preferring the look. I found myself staring at her. I was captivated, mesmerized if you will. I stood there, frozen in time.

“If you agree, your training begins now by your removing your eskişehir escort dress and bra and kneeling before me. I numbly reached behind me and unzipping my dress, pulling it off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, then unfastening my bra and putting it on top of my dress. I moved in front of her and knelt between her thighs.

“I think you are going to enjoy chocolate pie for dessert.”

I leaned in and inhaled her essence, then leaned even further in, opened my mouth and licked my first pussy. I had kissed a woman several times earlier in my life but never went further. I found I liked the taste. In all honesty, I found it intoxicating. I realized I was no longer straight. I was at least bi-sexual, or heaven forbid, even lesbian. What would Michael, my husband, think? I licked her clit, kissed and sucked her vaginal lips and used my tongue on her vagina. She was very wet.

“I love turning white women. Give them a taste of black pussy and they can’t get enough.”

I kept licking, kissing, and tonguing as I heard more and more moans coming from Sherri. She wrapped her hands around my head and pulled me deeper into her to the point it was difficult to breathe. She orgasmed loudly, released my head and let me pull away from her.

“Was this your first time? You did well. I’ll show you what I like and don’t like, though you’ve already hit all my favorites.”

I still knelt between her thighs, marveling at the contrast between her dark skin and my near-albino skin. I’m Scandinavian by birth with very white skin and white blonde hair.

“As much as I loved this time. It’s time to get dressed and get to work. This is one reason I expect you here early.”

I dressed, we hugged and kissed again, this one a longer, more intense kiss, then gently she licked my face of her juices. She pulled a towel from her desk and told me to wipe my face.

It had been the strangest job interview I had ever had.

When I got home, Michael asked me over dinner if I liked my new boss and job.

“I think so, but it’s still early. She’s got very definite ideas of my job performance.”

“How is it working for a black woman in a white, white male company?” he asked.

“So far, so good,” I replied.

The rest of the week was more of the same. I arrived early, was called into her office, locked the door, walked over to her desk and removed my dress gaziantep escort and bra and stood in front of her in my skimpy thong. I then knelt, reached under her skirt and removed her panties, pushed her skirt to her waist and dived in. I found myself craving this. I was being submissive, a submissive to a strong black woman. I loved it. I was largely submissive to Michael in the bedroom. This was no different.

Two weeks later, we had settled into our roles. She complimented my pussy-munching skills and I glowed with the praise.

“Reggie and I want you and Michael to come for dinner.”

I was surprised, thinking the roles between us distinct, but agreed to Saturday night.

Saturday evening came and we walked into their beautiful home in the hills. We brought two bottles of one of our favorite wines, drank both at dinner with our hosts, and shared yet a third bottle after dinner. Her husband, Reggie, was a hunk of a man, tall, strong and well-muscled.

“Fran, come with me. There’s something I want to show you.” She guided me into their luxurious bedroom, turned to me, kissed me again (I found myself melting into her every time she’s kissed me), and told me, “Strip.”

I was of course wearing a dress, heels and thigh highs. I hurriedly stripped naked. When I turned back to her, I gasped. She stepped out of their walk-in closet. She, too, had stripped and had donned a big black strap-on, which only added to her dominance.

“On the bed, on hands and knees.”

I assumed the position and felt her kneel behind me and line up the strap-on with my pussy. She slowly pushed in, allowing me to get used to the size before moving deeper and deeper until she was all the way in. This thing must have been 9″ long. I had never felt so full. When she pulled back until only the tip was inside me, I felt suddenly empty. She pushed back in, then began to fuck me slowly, with deep strokes. Minutes passed as I became more comfortable with her size she increased the speed of her fucking. I felt an orgasm building. I was shocked as I had never had a vaginal orgasm in my married life. It rolled over me like a wave as she continued to pound me. A second orgasm came shortly after. She pulled out and I fell to the bed, exhausted and overwhelmed with sexual release.

“That’s what real fucking feels like. Just wait until Reggie fucks you. It’s a religious experience.”

She giresun escort cuddled with me for a few minutes, then rolled up on the bed, offered her hand, and said, “Let’s go see what the guys are up to.”

“Like this?”

“If I know Reggie, he’s got your husband stripped and sucking his big, black cock. White guys just can’t resist that magnificent black cock. It brings out the submissive in them.”

“No way! Michael’s as straight as they come.”

“You were, too, until a month ago. Now look at you.”

Hand in hand, we ventured down the hall and peeked around the corner. I was shocked! Sure enough, Michael was naked, on his knees and sucking Reggie’s cock. It was the biggest cock I’d ever seen and he was having difficulty fitting it into his mouth.

Sherri leaned towards me and said, “Pretty amazing, huh? Reggie knows his men.”

“I’d never have believed it if I didn’t see it.”

“Wait until he fucks him and he squeals like a woman.”

We stood, hand in hand, as Michael continued to suck his cock. After a few more minutes, Reggie stood up Michael and led him over to the couch and placed him on his hands and knees. He reached over to a table and got a small bottle, which I took to be lube. He squeezed some on Michael’s ass and rubbed it down his crack, using one finger to push it into his ass, then lubed up his cock and settled in behind him. He pushed and went in a small way, then stopped for a short time before resuming pushing in inch by inch until he was all the way in. Like Sherri had done to me, he started slow and sped up minute by minute until he was really pounding him. Michael had gasped, moaned, grimaced and cried out as Reggie fucked him, until Reggie pushed all the way in and bellowed as he came. He fell on Michael’s back and stayed there for a few minutes before pushing off him and standing up. As he stood, he caught sight of us and looked me up one side and down another.

“Sherri said you were beautiful but she minimizes.”

Michael also stood, looked at me and gasped again, this time surprised to see me naked with Sherri, holding hands as Sherri nuzzled my neck.

“I told Fran she’s next after you recover while I take my turn fucking Michael. We’ll get them broken in soon.” Sherri led me over to Reggie and took Michael and led him toward the bedroom.

Michael noticed the monster strap-on for the first time and hung his head.

An hour later, Reggie rocked my world while I had multiple orgasms before he filled me with his cum.

“Plan on coming back next weekend for a follow up,” Sherri said to us as we left. As we drove away, I turned to Michael and asked him if he wanted to return. He smiled and said yes and our lives were forever changed.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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The euphoria of the election victory was, at least for me, tempered by foreboding at the task ahead. I was no economist, and I was really only an accidental politician. I had been ten when the War had begun, and could remember the enthusiasm of the crowds and the boast that it “would all be over by Christmas”, followed by the slow, horrific realisation that it would not be until Christmas 1918 that would be the case. This felt horribly similar. Yes, we had won an election with a massive majority. We could, in parliamentary terms do whatever we wanted; but what was to be done about an economy that had crashed as part of a world-wide collapse? We had power, but did anyone know what to do?

The answer in retrospect was “no”, and not because people did not care or try, it was because the situation was unprecedented. The problem was that the more stubborn the depression was, whatever we tried, the more unemployment worsened, and the more people looked for quick fixes. I was glad I had been so honest with my voters, and my efforts were focussed on what could be done in Oldham.

The local economy depended almost entirely on the Mills, and with people not buying, the owners went to short-time working and shedding staff. The first to be fired were some of my beloved mill girls. Before May 1929 I had acted on behalf of the MP, my husband, Archie, but since then I had been the MP and decided, as I told Bella, to do what I had done in 1926 at the time of the General Strike – get my hands dirty.

Bella was busy in London most of the week. World affairs kept her chained to her news desk, and we kept in touch by phone. I longed to spend more time with her, but circumstances were not in our favour – at least not in that first few months. But she approved the idea of doing something.

My suite at the Piccadilly was a busy place that winter and spring, and after talking with my Agent and others, I got Fr. Joe, the parish priest to call a meeting of the Christian leaders in the constituency. “The Rev Joe” as everyone called him, was an austere, even gaunt man in appearance, but palpably holy, and I had discussed with him what we then proposed at the meeting in my suite after supper.

They were a mixed bunch. There was Joe, but also the Methodists, the Baptists, the Independent Baptists and even the Catholics, who usually refused to have anything to do with the “heretics”; that’s how serious the situation was. Lees Mill, our largest employer was cutting back, and that would have effects all the way down the line to its suppliers, its workers and their children, and thence to the shops and businesses. I was due to see a deputation from the mill girls on Monday night, so although it was Saturday night, everyone came.

The Nonconformists – that is the Baptists and Methodists of various hues, regarded me with some suspicion. My Charleston, the flashing of my stocking tops, not to mention the rumours about my private life which had begun to circulate, made me an object of some suspicion. What, after all, could a mere woman, and a “Society woman” at that, know about the lives of the people of their communities? It was only my work during the Great Strike, and Joe’s presence, that pulled them in. I knew I’d get one chance, and was determined not to blow it.

After supper I asked Joe to lead us in prayers. When he had finished I addressed them in deadly earnest.

“We all know this is bad and getting worse. The question is what are WE going to do about it?”

I could see them looking at me, some with deep scepticism.

“Surely”, said the Methodist leader, Mr Barnard, “the question is what the Government will do?”

This was a critical moment and I shot back at once.

“Is that what the Good Samaritan said? Did he ask what the rabbis were going to do? No he got on and did it. Did St Paul ask who was going to help the Christians in Jerusalem, or did he get on and do it? There, is”, I said with the utmost seriousness, “no ‘them’, there is only ‘us’, you, me and the leaders çorum escort of this community. Between us we know every man of wealth in this constituency, and we need to get them to dig into their pockets – and I am starting with a donation of the whole of my parliamentary salary, plus the same sum from my own pocket”.

There was a gasp. That was five hundred times the average annual wage.

“The Rev Joe and I are asking your help in raising the money which will do three things: fund foodbanks for those who cannot afford to eat; fund free schools for children to help parents who do work; and fund training programmes to re-skill and educate workers. God helps those who helps themselves – are we or are we not God’s agents in this place?”

There was a round of applause. Then the Rev Joe intervened.

“You heard the lady. Are we on board brothers or are we going to fiddle while Rome burns?”

That night everyone of them signed up, and within the month we had raised three times the sum I had donated.

“Lady Cynthia”, Mr Shufflebottom, my Agent, said to me after they had gone, “I was never prouder of thee. Thou hast no reason to do all of this save that thou art an angel in disguise.” There was a tear in his eyes.

“Well Mr S, you’re too kind, but we need a word about these rumours.”

He looked embarrassed, as well he might.

“So tha’s heard hast tha?

“I gather that some of our Nonconformist friends have been spreading stories about my ‘unnatural predilections’ during the campaign. No doubt that’s why Barnard looked so shifty.”

“Ignore them, my lady.”

“No, no, Mr S. I am not minded to. We’ve a meeting with the mill girl deputation on Monday night, invite the press and tell them I’m open to questions about anything.”

He looked concerned.

“Is that wise, my lady?”

“Probably not, Mr S, but I’m not aiming to be one of the Three Wise Men.”

I talked down the line to Bella before sleeping. She expressed her concerns.

“But Pix, why confront them? Let it be, you know that they can’t prove anything.”

“No, Bella”, I said, unusually for me when talking with her, “it won’t do. It’ll undermine what I am trying to do here if folk won’t get behind me.”

“They will Pix, but the problem is that they will have knives in their hands.”

We agreed to differ.

I went to the parish church in Springhead for Morning Prayer at 11. Cranmer’s words soothed me. I dined with the Rev Joe and some of his flock and stayed for Evening Prayer. Afterwards Joe pulled me aside.

“You are doing His work Lady C, don’t you worry.”

I thanked him. He knew the truth and he had never once judged me. One day, I hoped, his example would become the norm; but even as I write this so many years later, that hope is as far from realisation as ever.

I spent the next day in the office dealing with a thousand and one problems. As the MP I was the first, but also the last, resort for many of my constituents, and my team was kept busy. The last meeting of the day brought a familiar face into the room – Sally, the blonde mill girl who had goosed me during the election victory photograph.

“What can I do for you Sally?”

I could not but lick my lips, at least mentally, as I looked at her. Her work clothes were hardly haute couture, but nothing could hide that bust and her blonde hair and blue eyes, and she had about her the look of a woman who knew what she wanted and, from the way she was looking at me, who she wanted.

“Thanks for seeing me, your ladyship. Your secretary said to remind you to lock up, as she has to go early. I wanted two things, first to talk about our deputation tonight, and then about something I know is going to arise after.”

Intrigued I invited her to say more.

She told me that the job losses and the cuts in working hours and wages at the Mill were going to create major problems and that many of the girls were listening to the Union activists who were recommending denizli escort a strike. She thought all that would do was to cause further job losses, but did not know what to say or do.

I told her what I had in mind, the plans that I would outline.

“But why would you do that my lady? We’re just common working women, no-one gives a fuck about us – pardon my French.”

“I do, Sally, and we’ll work together. Will you join my team? I need a leader on the ground, and there’ll be some pay in it.”

“You need a leader do you, my lady? That’s what the rumours say.”

I blushed.

“What do they say, Sally?”

“Well, my lady, I know from some of the mill lads that the young Mr Everard pays some of them to do unnatural things with him – ‘a bit of rough’ he calls it. Do you like a ‘bit of rough’ too your ladyship?”

I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks, and the juices wetting my knickers as she looked directly at me.

“What do you mean, Sally?”

She stood up, turning, she went to the door and locked it and then turned back to me.

“Get out from behind that desk. In fact, stand in front of it.”

I looked at her. Neither of us had any doubt of what I would do; so I did it.

“Unbutton that skirt and take it off, then do the same with your blouse.”

It never occurred to me to question her instructions, and as in a dream, I unbuttoned my skirt, stepping out of it and exposing my stockings, suspender-belt and knickers. I took my blouse off, and the silk semi-camisole I wore did nothing to hide the fact that my nipples were erect.

“How does it feel to have a common working girl taking charge of you – Pixie?”

Her use of my nickname made me conscious of renewed wetness between my legs.

“I like it, Sally.”

“I know you do. Dot is a friend of mine, so I know just what you like.”

So that was how she had so much confidence. That made sense. Dot was the maid from the hotel who my former lover Annie, had involved in our sexual adventures, and she, like Annie, had assumed a dominant role.

“Take that top off, I want to see if your bouncers are as tiny as Dot said.”

Sally was smirking as I obeyed, and laughed as I took it off.

“My little sister has bigger bouncers than you!”

I blushed bright red, and I could feel my knickers flood.

Sally approached me and began to play with my nipples. As she pulled and squeezed, I began to moan.

“But these are right sensitive aren’t they, Pixie?”

‘Oh golly, yes, yes Miss Sally.”

She smiled.

“Oh I like ‘Miss Sally’ I like it a lot. Right, on your knees and crawl between my legs.”

She sat in the chair, but not before lifting her skirts and pulling her knickers off. I could see her very hairy pussy, and as I got closer she grabbed my head and pushed me in.

It smelt. I had forgotten that working-class women did not have the same hygiene habits as the women I was used to, but oddly that added to the pleasure.

Parting her hairy lips, I licked upward, scooping her gooey juices. She moaned. As I licked slowly, all the way up, she gripped me between her firm thighs.

“Bugger, bugger, oh that’s, that’s ohhhhhh!”

I doubted anyone had ever done to her what I was doing to her, and delighted in teasing her, introducing her to the delights of the sapphic code. The smell heightened my feelings of humiliation, and I put my hands under her bum and pulled her to me. I pressed my head against her, fucking her with my tongue, and then, pulling out, moved up to feather-lick her clit.

As she gripped me tight, I slid two fingers into her, curling up until I could feel that special rough patch, at which point I sucked her clit. As my fingers and tongue played with her, it was clear that she would not last long, and so I determined to make her orgasm the best she had ever had. My tongue feathered her clit as my lips sucked, and I could her pussy squish as I fucked her. When she came, it was with düzce escort a shuddering cry of release. My face was coated. She held me there, and as she came down from her high, I cleaned her up.

Sally looked down at me as she recovered.

“What the hell was that? And how do I get more of it? You’re all wet, sorry, I got carried away, are you okay?”

I smiled.

“Never better Sally.”

“I should have washed, if I’d realised.”

Her sentence trailed away.

“It’s okay – I liked it.”

“Really? You are a little pervert aren’t you?”

I smiled.

“That’s the rumour is it?”

“Yes, my lady, and someone is going to raise it tonight.”

As I cleaned myself up, I thanked her.

“What are you doing to do about it?”

“Wait and see’, I answered.” As to how do you get more of that, well you take up my offer to work with me.”

“Done”, she smiled.

“You were – and will be again”, I smiled as I finished dressing.

“You smell of me”, Sally said as we kissed goodbye.

“Good”, I said. “See you later.”

Of course I washed before the meeting, but was conscious, not having had the chance to change my knickers, that they were a little stiff between the thighs. So, I smiled to myself, the game was once more afoot.

I could see that Mr Shufflebottom was tense, and sensed the atmosphere in the meeting as we convened. There were at least two London journalists there. They scented blood.

There was approval as I announced what the press would call “Lady Pixie’s new deal”, but almost an impatience to get to the questions.

The first few were to do with details of the “new deal” and easily dealt with. Then one of the London journalists fired the cross-bow bolt meant to finished me off as a real one had done to Richard the Lionheart.

“Lady Cynthia, this is all very heartening, but what have you to say to the rumours that you engage in unnatural practices?”

There was a sharp intake of breath. The room fell silent. I could see Sally, who was in the audience, looking anxious.

“What sort of unnatural practices would those be?” I asked all innocence. “Wealthy woman helping the poor, is that natural? MP helping working for her constituents, is that natural? Someone actually caring for the working men and women of this place rather than using them to sore political points, is that natural?”

The mill girls were cheering me to the echo, and the men in the audience were clapping and shouting their support.

“Aye, she’s a game lass, what’s wrong with that Mr Reporter?”

The reporter suddenly looked distinctly uneasy.

“Well,” he began, more hesitantly, “unnatural practices like those certain men indulge.”

I took on my most innocent air.

“I am afraid, sir, that as a married woman, I have no idea what it is you are referring to. I do not have the correct physique to do what a man does!”

That brought the house down. The girls whooped, and the men cheered. Then the Methodist leader, Mr Barnard intervened.

“I know you come from London, sir, but up here in God’s own country, we don’t talk smut, and we don’t tolerate others doing so. If that’s something to say, say it, or shut up!”

There were more cheers.

“Well?” I asked, “What are these unnatural practices to which you refer?”

Either, which was highly probably, he did not actually know what women like me did, and, or, which was equally likely, he didn’t feel able to articulate it before such an audience.

“Go on, Mr Reporter, would you like to see my unnatural practices?”

That was Big Betty, one of the mill girls, and the poor man blushed and lost his nerve. The working women of Lancashire and Yorkshire were not shrinking violets.

“I take it,” I added, “that you don’t want to take Betty up on her kind offer? Well, if there are no more questions, I suggest we adjourn to the tea room.”

The applause was deafening.

As I talked afterwards, Sally came up behind me and, pinching my bum, whispered in my ear, “That was bloody brilliant. Up for some unnatural practices after this?”

I smiled.

“And what would those be?”

And so it was that the direction of Home affairs was, for the moment, settled. Foreign affairs, on the other hand, were less easily put to bed.

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