Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I’ve got off the phone to my friend Karen. We’re bored and going round to Hannah’s. We don’t usually hang out with her, she’s boring and square. But it’s something to do.

I fake smile when we get there, acting politely to her parents, Karen and I head to her room.

Hannah’s cousin is there, Hailey, she’s blonde, blue eyed and pretty. Her character is charming and confident, and her smile melts my heart. I get to know her, ignoring my friends to talk to her, unsure what has come over me.

At the end of the evening, I’m reluctantly pulled away by Karen to get the train home.

***

“Let’s go to Hannah’s?”

It’s the next day, we’re bored again.

“No, there’s nothing to do.”

“I know, everyone else has gone away, we may as well.” I beg. I don’t know what’s got into me. I feel a need to see Hailey.

Karen succumbs to my argument, and we are back at Hannah’s.

Hailey sits on the edge of the bed. Golden strands of hair hang over her naked shoulders. balıkesir escort Her breasts compressed behind a white boob tube, her little nipples pressing hard. Her tummy is flat with small rolls of skin squeezed as she sits forward. I look at her long legs, crossed, pink flip-flops hang from her raised right foot.

Her smile is wide, and I hang on her every word as she talks about life in Norwich, it sounds depressing, not like London. She’s here for a week, and she’s going home soon.

Prying, I’m interested when she’s back here, how does she like it? She whispers and puts a hand on my bare knee, “Its improved.” She laughs so no-one else hears.

A swarming bag of nerves swoosh in my tummy. Is she flirting with me, I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I’m interested in her, not in that way, am I? I feel enraptured, connected. Its different to how I feel about my friends, Karen and Kim. But, I don’t know how.

***

Being bartın escort dragged away to go home again, I sit in my room, alone.

I try to work out my feelings. Its not the first time I’ve found myself thinking about girls, or a female in particular.

The waves of emotion I feel as I think of them. I can’t counter, or explain.

***

“What’s into you? You’re either looking into the distance, not talking, being fucking boring. Or, it’s Hailey this, or Hailey that.” Karen is having a whinge up at me as we sit on a bench on Wandsworth Road. We’re off to see what’s happening in Elephant and Castle. She’d refused to see Hannah, now we’re here waiting for a bus.

Inside I’m in bits, concerned I’ll never see Hailey again. It kills me she could be back in Norwich, I don’t know how I’ll cope. I wanted to cry when Karen said no to going around there. I want to ask her to call Hannah, from the phone box. Neither of us can remember her number.

***

Lying batman escort on my bed, thinking of Hailey, I wonder what she’s doing. I’m jealous of Hannah for having such a beautiful cousin. I’m envious of the time they get to spend together. If I had a cousin like her, I’m certain I’d be spending whatever time I had to be near her in Norwich.

My heart races and I panic as I find my hand pressing at myself between my legs. I open my crotch a little and slip my hand into my pants.

I’m so confused a tear wells in my eye as I try to comprehend what I’m feeling. I have sex with boys, but I don’t fancy them. I go for boys my friends like, or who I think I should go with. I love sex, the thought of it, but I hate the deed and the regret and shame.

I’m outrageous, and push the boundaries during sex, trying to get myself to enjoy it more. My reputation isn’t good, my friends know me as a slut, and the boys we know, know me.

Hailey, though she’s different, I like talking to her finding out about her. I’d like to go out and have fun with her, she’s not the first girl I’ve felt like this with.

My girlfriends are different, we do go out, we have fun and talk, but its not special, its friendly.

I pull my hand out, I’m not doing it.

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

“Ursula?” the attractive blond nurse called from the door that would take you back to the dentist for your annual checkup.

Gathering your things, shutting down you your phone and slipping it into your purse, you were kindof disappointed that they’d called your name so quickly, as you’d been watching one of your favorite videos in an all-too-rare moment of privacy. The video had, as usual, worked its magic and you were feeling more than a little simmery as you stood up to walk through the door.

“That’s such a pretty dress,” the assistant commented as you walked through the door, “It looks really nice on you.”

“Thanks,” you said somewhat shyly, noticing how truly pretty she was, and then returning the compliment, “I really like yours as well, I especially like that neckline, it really shows off your pretty necklace.”

“Oh, why thank you,” she replies smiling, “my name’s Jen,” and she offers her hand, which you take. Her hand is soft and warm, and her handshake lingers a second longer than usual as she directs her gorgeous blue eyes into yours. Peering into you. And what a smile.

You follow her back to the room, allowing your eyes to glance down her body. Confident walk, you notice, very shapely legs, great shoes — definitely not the typical clunky white sneaker type worn by most dental assistants.

She opens one of the exam room doors and stands in the doorway to let you pass, and you could swear that she stood far enough in the doorway so that your body would brush hers as you entered. Or maybe that was you that wanted to brush her body? Either way, the briefest moment of touch was electric. Your arm against her soft breast. That simmer you felt in the waiting room has intensified. You’re not totally sure why, but you’re also not resisting it.

Small talk continues, how’s your day going, can you believe this weather, I really like your shoes, the dentist will be in in a few he had an emergency root canal to do so asked me to get you started, go ahead and set your purse down on the chair there, let’s get you situated in this chair and you welcome the small talk because you’re feeling totally distracted by this woman. Her soft voice, her scent, maybe? A soft perfume that seems to fill the room in an enticing way.

You sit in the chair, leaning back with your legs up, smoothing your dress across your knees, feeling maybe a little light-headed, and not minding the feeling at all. As she gets you settled, fixing the little bib around your neck so she hovers right over you and you can glimpse down her dress at her breasts, she asks if you’re doing okay, and you reply, smiling, “Feeling a bit light-headed, is there nitrous oxide in the room?”

“Ha, no, but you’re not the first to ask that,” she says, somewhat conspiratorially, adding, “is my perfume too strong?”

“Oh no, it’s not too strong at all,” you affirm, “it’s quite…intoxicating.”

Her face is inches away from yours, you hadn’t realized until now how intimate the personal urfa escort space is in a dentist’s office, and she says, “Oh wow, that’s so nice of you to say, I think it’s quite pretty,” and tilts her head to the side and brings her neck down to your nose, so you can inhale her deeply.

And you do. And maybe it’s the scent, or maybe it’s the proximity of that beautiful neck, but you find yourself moving past simmery to full-on excited, feeling the start of wetness between your legs, wanting very badly to slide your hand under your dress and inside your panties to gain the relief you desire, knowing that’s impossible but feeling a need and beginning to wonder if perhaps the scent of your wetness might also permeate the room, and would she be able to tell?

Your mind is racing, and all you can manage to say is “Mmmmm that smells sooo nice” as she pulls her neck away and looks again into your eyes. She somehow manages to retain her professionalism, pulling herself together from being clearly a bit unsettled, and says, “Ok, let’s have a look, shall we?”

You lean your head back against the chair, and she brings her face directly over yours, saying “Open for me, please,” and in your mind you’re wondering if she means your mouth or perhaps your legs and you pull yourself back from the edge and open your mouth for her to look inside.

She slides her soft fingers in your mouth, peering in with the bright light from the machine above, and with her face just inches away from yours, softly saying “Mmmm, all looks very healthy and the perfect shade of pink, it looks like you take very good care of yourself.” You can feel her breath on you, you can feel her soft breast press into your shoulder, you can feel the wetness between your legs increasing.

You cross and uncross your legs, and with her face still right next to yours, she notices and asks if you’re uncomfortable at all. “Mmmm, no, it’s just, well, no, I’m okay.” Your hands go to your waist, wishing you could slide them between your legs but knowing you can’t, and won’t have a chance until you get to your car after the appointment.

“Maybe I can make you a bit more comfortable,” she says, and gets up from her stool to dim the overhead lights. She also, you notice, locks the door to the exam room. Sitting back down, she activates the controls of the chair, moving your head farther down and your legs farther up. “You seem anxious, is that better, is there anything I can do to make you more relaxed?” she asks softly.

“I’m not usually nervous at the dentist,” you reply, “my heart is pounding.” Softly, she places her hand on your chest, right between your breasts, and without thinking, you bring one of your hands on top of hers and press it firmly to hers, allowing her to feel the pounding below. She makes no move to remover her hand, and nor do you. As she looks at you, as you stare into one another’s eyes, her acknowledging the clear pulsing of the muscle in your chest sivas escort with a “wow, that’s powerful,” you begin to slowly, verrrry slowly move her hand to the side, closer and closer to your breast, until it’s clear it’s no longer over your heart.

Your mouths are dry. Her hand comes alive, gently squeezing her fingers. You close your eyes. Her hand begins to squeeze, to caress, to gently knead your small breast. The only sound in the room is a low moan that escapes from between your lips at how good her touch feels. She moves from her hand caressing to finding your nipple with her fingers. Your moan gets a bit louder as she gently circles it, then pinches it.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she softly stutters out, “This is not something I do, but you have me feeling, something, I haven’t felt in a long while…” and you feel her lips on yours. Electricity flows through your body. You feel your lips respond to hers, kissing her back. Encouraging. Allowing. Willing her to kiss you more.

She does. Gently slips her tongue into your mouth as she continues to caress your breast, moving her hand to the other one as well. You feel your back arch at how good her touch feels, at how soft her mouth is, at how hungry her tongue is. Your tongue slips into her mouth as well, and the softness of the initial kissing has turned to urgency for both of you. Mouths completely covering one another’s, tongues exploring, desire increasing. Your hand goes to the back of her head, sliding your fingers into her short hair, and pulling her face into yours as you kiss.

You’re sure that she must be able to smell the excitement coming from between your legs. Your legs cross and uncross again, and you feel her hand release your breast and begin to slide down your stomach. Her hand slowly approaches your waist, and she stops when she feels the waistband of your panties through the thin dress fabric. Tracing her fingers lightly across the waistband, side to side, hip to hip, then tracing down the side of your leg until she reaches the bottom of your dress.

Pausing as you continue to kiss, wanting to be sure you’re okay with this, she needs to know before she goes, and with no hesitation you bring a hand down to grab and hold her wrist, and you push her hand under your dress and then slide it uppppp between your legs until you release it, knowing that she knows for sure what you want.

“Your thighs….so soft,” her voice between kissing.

“Your hands….feel sooo good….don’t stop, please,” your voice, reassuring.

Her hand climbs under the dress until you feel her fingers touch your panties. You can’t help but shudder. She gently strokes your pussy behind the thin fabric, and you feel yourself lifting your hips off the chair, wanting more.

She gives you more. She gives you just what you want. She slides a finger into one side of the lace, pulls your panties to the side, and then begins slowly gliding her finger from top to bottom tekirdağ escort along your sweet swollen lips, getting them wetter as she eases them farther inside with each pass.

“Mmmm, your pussy feels soo soft and sweet….” She says into your mouth. “Does it taste as good as it feels?”

“Mmhmmm,” you moan in reply.

“Well, let’s see…” she says, and slides her hand out of your panties, and right in front of your face as you watch, she first kisses her fingertips, then licks them, and then takes them fully in her mouth before also offering them to you. You move your hand to hers and hungrily bring her fingers between your lips, staring at her right in the eye and licking yourself off of her, uttering a “See, I told you…” with a smile.

She returns the smile, and then returns her hand between your legs. At this point, your dress is pulled up around your waist, and she can see the beautiful black lace panties that you’re very glad you decided to wear today. Her hand now slides into the top and glides down over your nicely-trimmed garden until it reaches your wetness again. Your hips thrust up, and your hand goes to the outside of your panties, placing it over her hand to guide her.

Apparently, however, she doesn’t need any guidance, and she expertly picks up where she left off, moving her fingers to your lips, sliding them inside you as you moan in pleasure. Your hand comes off your panties and meets the other one at the buttons on top of your dress, and as she continues to finger fuck you, you unbutton and pull the dress open, then unsnap and open your bra, revealing your breasts, and she picks up on the message you’re sending, moving her mouth to your nipples as you squeeze your tits for her.

“Mmmmmm oh god that feels soooo good,” you hear yourself say, in absolute ecstasy at her touch, both of her lips on your nipples and her fingers, now making small rhythmic circles on your clit. You pick up on the rhythm, moving your hips at the same time, guiding her to where it feels best, and starting now to feel the waves start to crest.

One of your hands on the back of her head, the other on her hand in your panties, your body begins to shudder. To shiver. To quiver. To quake. Your breathing quickens and deepens, your moaning is louder, filling the room, you don’t give a fuck if anyone hears you’ve needed this kind of orgasm for so long, and as the waves start to crash, your body trembles and explodes, energy pulsing and emanating from your pussy, filling your body with warmth and pleasure, and you moan, “Cummmminggggg” as she continues the pressure on your clit then slides two fingers inside you and presses up on the inside of your g-spot.

And as your body fully responds, relents, and releases, you feel yourself give in to the extreme pleasure, and to a fantasy fulfilled, and you slowly…slowly…slowly recover your breathing and your blood slowly…slowly…slowly returns to normal as she brings her hand back to her mouth, closes her eyes and licks your wetness all off of them, then brings her mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, gently, happily.

After a moment passes and the room settles back to normal, she leans in, smiles and asks, “I think you’re ready to see the dentist now, shall I bring him in?”

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

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

I was married for a month by now, and your husband has to be away due to work commitments. I lived with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law. It was no sister-in-law who performed all my pre-wedding rituals on me, some of which were really intimate.

The morning was still fresh and the fragrance of lavender incense sticks from the puja room could be sensed. The kitchen is buzzing with my sister-in-law, cooking, my mother-in-law, chit-chatting. It is a typical Saturday morning.

I was just out of my bedroom, fresh from sleep. I looked around for my husband, but soon realized he wasn’t at home. He had a work-related trip planned for quite some time.

I walked down the stairs in my nightdress, my sister-in-law came out the kitchen door. She smiled at me. She had this beautiful, charming smile. Her eyes were so captivating, they drew me towards her. She too was still in her nightie and I could see her curves clearly underneath with sunlight behind her.

“You slept well?” she asked.

“Yea”, I replied, “What are you up to?”

“I’m about to take an oil bath, as it’s a Saturday. Want to join?” She asked.

“Oil bath?” I asked.

“It’s a very traditional method, we have to keep ourselves oiled for half-an-hour and then bathe. It’s very good for your skin, and also soothes your mind and relaxes your body”.

“I will”, I said.

She led me towards the backyard of the house. In the backyard was a big mat. There was a jug filled with coconut oil and a towel.

The sunlight filtered through the swaying leaves of the nearby neem tree, casting dappled patterns on her soft, olive skin. Her eyes were closed, and her lips curved in a serene smile as she massaged herself. It was a surreal moment, and I couldn’t help but be entranced by her grace. As I applied the oil to my legs, I hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit self-conscious. We were both in our nighties. However, my sister-in-law’s relaxed demeanor and the trust that had developed between us over the years made me feel more at ease.

I glanced at her, and she met my gaze with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” she said softly, “we’re family, and there’s nothing to be shy about. This tradition is about bonding and rejuvenation. Let me help you with your back.”

I mustered the courage and peeled off my nightie, leaving me in just my undergarments. bayburt escort My sister-in-law and I exchanged a reassuring look before she dipped her fingers in the aromatic oil and began to gently massage my back. Her touch was tender and expert, and the sensation was both relaxing and intimate.

I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the oil and the gentle, rhythmic movements of her hands wash over me. It was as if all the stress and worries that had been weighing on my mind were slowly melting away. I felt a profound connection with this age-old tradition, and with my sister-in-law who was sharing this experience with me.

As she continued to massage my back, I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the moment. The scent of the oil, the rustling leaves, and the distant sounds of daily life in our Indian household created a unique atmosphere. It was a moment of pure relaxation and bonding, a deepening of the connection between sisters-in-law who, in that tranquil space, were simply two women seeking solace and rejuvenation. After a while, she paused and said, “Now it’s your turn to help me with my back.” I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling more at ease with the idea. I dipped my fingers into the oil and began to replicate her gentle movements, massaging her back in return as she stood in her undergarments. It was a beautiful exchange of care and intimacy, strengthening the familial bonds that tie us together.

As we continued this timeless ritual, I couldn’t help but be grateful for this moment of connection and the sense of belonging within the warm embrace of our Indian traditions. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most intimate moments can be shared with family, and they can be deeply enriching and healing.

Then I sat cross-legged on the floor as I was asked. My sister-in-law knelt behind me, her hands still coated with the aromatic oil. With a delicate touch, she unhooked my bra and gently eased it off my shoulders. The sensation was both unfamiliar and surprisingly freeing, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of vulnerability and acceptance in that moment.

As her hands continued to glide over my back, I could sense her care and attention to detail. She made sure to cover every inch of my skin with the fragrant oil, her touch unhurried and deliberate. I relaxed into bilecik escort the experience, letting go of any lingering self-consciousness, and allowed myself to appreciate the unique bond we were forging through this ancient ritual.

Her hands were warm and comforting, and the fragrance of the oil filled the air, enveloping us in a cocoon of tranquility. The traditional oil bath had evolved into a deeply personal and intimate experience, symbolizing trust and the unspoken connection between sisters-in-law.

As I stood up, my sister-in-law remained kneeling behind me, her hands still coated with the fragrant oil. I could feel a mix of anticipation and vulnerability, knowing that the last part of my body was about to be uncovered and attended to.

With a gentle touch, she began to slide my panties down, revealing the final part of my body that had been hidden. It was a moment that required both trust and a certain level of comfort with each other. She continued to apply the warm oil to this newly uncovered area, her touch maintaining the same level of care and delicacy as before. Her hands moved with grace and purpose, ensuring that every part of my body was properly nourished and rejuvenated. I closed my eyes and let go of any lingering inhibitions, fully embracing the experience. The oil felt warm and soothing, and her touch was like a feather, sending tingling sensations through my body. I could sense her fingers entering me from my behind gently as I let out a gentle moan.

The sensual feeling of the warm oil and her soft, skilled fingers moving inside of me was almost too much to handle. She slowly added a second finger, and the sensation was overwhelming. I felt a sense of euphoria wash over me as she skillfully moved her fingers in and out, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I moaned loudly as she increased the pace and intensity, taking me to new heights of ecstasy. I felt so alive, so connected to her. Her touch was electric, and her movements were precise and calculated.

The mixture of pleasure and intimacy was intoxicating, and I found myself losing control, moaning uncontrollably as she continued her ministrations. I could feel my climax building, and I knew it would not be long before I reached the point of no return. As the intensity of the pleasure increased, bingöl escort I could feel myself slipping into a state of pure bliss. I was powerless against the overwhelming sensations, and all I could do was surrender to the exquisite sensation of her fingers bringing me closer and closer to the edge. As the final wave of pleasure crashed over me, I was left panting and spent, but also filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. I felt completely at ease with my sister-in-law and our mutual desire to share such a deeply personal and intimate experience.

You say “Now return me the favor.” She looked into my eyes. She sat on the floor in her bra and panties and I knelt behind her still naked.”

As I massaged her, the smell of her perfume drifted in the air. She smelled so good. It was a combination of a fresh scent with a floral tone. It was subtle yet alluring. I unhooked her bra and gently slid it off her shoulders and I ran my hands along the smooth, olive skin of her back. I could feel the tension in her muscles as I rubbed the oil into her skin, watching as it glistened in the light. I ran my hands along her arms, feeling her goose bumps. I traced her collarbone with my fingertips, enjoying the way her skin felt and then I gently cupped her breasts in my hands, feeling their weight.

She leaned into me, pressing her back against my chest as I ran my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden. I kissed the nape of her neck, enjoying the softness of her skin.

She lifted herself momentarily, pulled her panties down in one go, and sat again on the floor completely naked. Her breath hitched as I ran my hands over her bare skin. She shivered as I trailed my fingertips across her stomach. I traced the contours of her hips, exploring every inch of her and I cupped her mound, feeling the warmth and wetness. She moaned as I teased her opening, circling my fingers around her clit. She gasped as I entered her, feeling her slick walls enveloping my fingers. She arched her back as I found her g-spot, stroking it with my fingertips and she cried out as she came, her body shaking with pleasure.

I held her close as she came down from her high, stroking her hair. We lay together in the aftermath, savoring the moment for another 30 minutes before starting to wash ourselves, to wash away the oil from our bodies. The warm water ran down our skin, erasing the last remnants of the oil.

The experience left us both feeling relaxed and refreshed. As we stood there in the shower, washing away the last traces of the oil, I couldn’t help but feel closer to my sister-in-law, the woman I had bonded with so intimately.

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

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

This story continues Chloe’s timeline from “Riding With Dirty Girls,” and “Chloe Rides Again.” You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but for background, you probably need to have read the other series’ first.

This is a work of fiction. A figment of the author’s imagination. It is not meant to be big on realism. It’s a fantasy. The culture around world-class women’s cycling probably isn’t a hotbed of lesbian lust, but wouldn’t it be fun if it were?

All characters are fictitious, and any that are involved in sexual activities are over 18.

***

Chloe’s Return Pt. 02

‘Oo, Chloe, you’re SUCH a bad grrl. I love that you just come to me and ask me that. Of course I’m up for it. I’d never turn you down Chloe. I love how you do it to me, with such passion.’

I beamed. Helen is so irrepressible. Her spirit and élan are unquenchable. Even when she’s pretty beaten up, like now.

‘Think a couple of orgasms might help me to heal, actually,’ she said, with a wry grin. Endorphins reduce pain and promote healing, you know.’

‘Who says we’re keeping to a couple of orgasms?’ I said mischievously.

I was super-horny. Almost salivating. I was aching to get my mouth on her pussy, to lick her all the way to heaven, to feel her climax flood her body, to taste it on my tongue, and to savour her ambrosia.

‘Shall we go up now?’ I asked, a little too earnestly.

‘Yes, let’s do that.’ She smiled and my heart did a little skip. Oh Helen, how you fire me.

We went up and undressed without any further delay and she lay on the bed, still festooned with dressings, and a few spectacular bruises. I got on the bed and she parted those beautiful thighs in a breath-taking invitation.

I crawled up over her for a kiss, supporting myself on my arms so that I didn’t put my whole body weight on her, and we softly smooched, lips and tongues just gently caressing.

There’s a gorgeous tenderness to Helen’s kisses sometimes. Her mouth becomes a seductively soulful instrument of pleasure, communicating her feelings, drawing me in and making me want more and more.

I could feel my passion rising as we kissed, but I tore myself away from her magical lips and moved slowly down the left side of her body, where all her injuries were, symbolically kissing all the hurt places; her shoulder, her elbow, her hip, her ankle…

She chuckled slightly. ‘Do your lips have healing properties, Chloe?’

‘I hope so. They can certainly bring you the endorphins you need,’ I murmured as I began to kiss my way up her leg.

Her thighs are things of wonder. I know I go on about them, but I can’t help it. I’m besotted. They have THE most perfect combination; muscular yet soft, smooth and feminine. I shouldn’t say it, but they are even better than Licia’s. I love Licia’s, but they are a little more brawny.

I kissed my way up the inside of her left one, my whole body fizzing with arousal, along the subtle curve of her quads, and up the faint flesh-covered ridge of her gracilis as she flexed her leg slightly.

She sighed and squirmed a little as I reached the lovely little band of gooseflesh at the border of her vulva, and I paused for a moment to gaze at her pussy, beautifully pouty, with its patch of curly hair, like finely spun rose gold.

She parted her legs even more, and I traced a finger up the crinkled flesh of her inner lips, which were just peeping between her fubsy outer ones. She sucked in her breath as I collected her glistening moisture on my fingertip then sucked it. Mmm, delicious.

I used two fingers of one hand to part her lips, revealing her tumid little button, and I teased it with the tip of my tongue, thrilled to feel how hot it was. Then I trailed my tongue down into her honeypot, and back up, coating her lips in lubriciously slippery juice.

She gave a little ‘Oh je’ as I increased the intensity of my tonguing; lapping, licking, probing, and flicking, and I revelled in having my nose buried in those golden pubes, breathing her in as I ate her like an over-ripe fruit; the kind where you can’t stop the juice from dripping off your chin.

My own pussy had already made my inner thighs slick and slippery, and I hadn’t even touched it yet, but now I got up on my knees, bum in the air, and slipped the middle two fingers of my hand into myself. I was obscenely hot and wet and I could clearly feel the hardness of my clit against my hand as I plunged my fingers, full-length deep into my hole until the outer two fingers squished my labia majora.

Still gorging on Helen’s heavenly honeypot, I started fucking myself zestily, until my whole hand was a mess of gooey, syrupy girl juice.

This was all I needed. THIS. Kneeling between Helen’s dreamy thighs, gorging on her creamy cunt, and finger-fucking myself to sexual Shangri-la.

We stayed like this for ages, alternating orgasms. Each time she came, it made me come shortly afterwards, and that started her off again. It was gebze escort a self-sustaining cycle. Only lesbian sex can do this.

Obviously, it couldn’t go on indefinitely, but while it lasted it was pure bliss.

In the end, I had to stop because my neck was so stiff I could hardly hold my head up. Still, if that meant I might end up helplessly drowning in her, I might have just let it happen. But no, we were orgasmically spent. Don’t ask how many, I don’t have a number, but I think you could say, ‘an ample sufficiency.’

After such a sexual melding (I think we bonded at a chemical level) there was no way I was going to the other bed, and we slept as before, with Helen lying on her right side, and me moulded to her, spooned together in beautiful intimacy. Oh, wonderful Helen.

***

Stage 3: Almuñecar-Sierra Nevada. 118km / 3800m of climbing.

It was another hectic morning. The stage start was at 11am in Almuñecar, a resort on the Costa Granadina, which was an hour’s bus ride away, and we needed to be there for 9:30, to have time for all the pre-stage rigmarole. That meant an early breakfast at 7:30. Ugh.

You may wonder why we didn’t stay in Almuñecar instead of Granada. Well, Stage 4 was a time trial in Granada, and Stage 3 finished close to the city too, so Granada was the most convenient base overall.

The accursed alarm jolted me awake at 6:50, and I groaned and jumped in the shower, making Helen a little envious because, with her multifarious dressings, she needed to wash herself more “strategically.”

Some riders don’t like the early breakfast because they say they struggle to eat at that time in the morning. I don’t like it either, but it’s nothing to do with any difficulty eating. I can eat at any time of day (or night).

As usual, I approached the breakfast table figuratively rubbing my hands. I love a Spanish breakfast, and I indulged myself with three popular favourites; toast with olive oil and tomato to start, then a slice of toast with Seville marmalade, followed by a huge croissant (borrowed from the French, I know) and then polished off two coffees and a slab of cake. Who doesn’t love a country that has coffee and cake for breakfast?

I noticed Helen looking at me with a smile as I demolished all this with gusto. OK, I admit it, I’m a bit of a gannet, but I must be burning it, because my weight is remarkably stable between 57.5 and 58 kilos. I guess it’s one of the advantages of being young and doing humongous amounts of exercise.

The best thing about it is I don’t tend to suffer from the dreaded “hunger bonk” (running out of fuel mid-race).

‘Right, I’m ready,’ I announced. ‘Let’s get at those mountains.’

The stage started at sea-level, on the Almuñecar seafront, and started climbing almost immediately. It reached 1100 metres altitude after only 25km, at a pass over the coastal mountains, so it was an unusually brutal start.

A long undulating crossing of a plateau then led to a second pass, and a descent to the outskirts of Granada at 75km. It was then that the real fun started.

The stage finish was at 2700m, high on the Sierra Nevada, on a piece of road that was closed to traffic. Special permission was needed for the race to go beyond the normal “roadhead,” and this was going to be the highest stage finish ever in the World Tour, men’s or women’s. Quite a coup for the Vuelta Femenina.

Stages of the men’s Vuelta had finished high on the Sierra before, but only at the roadhead (2550m) never this high. The new finish, up a series of hairpins, made a dramatic finale, and I was looking forward to it immensely.

We got on the bus for the drive to Almuñecar, and I sent Licia a message; ‘On our way to the start. 3800 metres of climbing coming right up. Wish me luck.’

She sent back a thumbs up and a message that made me giggle; ‘Thinking about getting out of bed. Hard decision about what to have for brekkie coming right up. Wish me luck.’ Oh, she does do me good.

We negotiated the sign-on, the sorting out of bikes and kit, and a spot of journalist-dodging, and soon we were assembling for the neutralised start. There was a quiet air of apprehension.

This was the toughest stage yet in the women’s Vuelta — or any stage race on the women’s tour – and it wasn’t just the total climbing that was feared, it was also the altitude of the finish. Many girls in the peloton had never been to such a height (me included) and it was plenty high enough for the thin air to have an effect.

There’s a high-altitude training centre on the Sierra Nevada, at 2300 metres, where many pros go for altitude training camps. Well, the stage finish was 400 metres higher than that. It was a daunting prospect.

The neutralised start was the shortest ever; only 2 kilometres. No sooner had we cleared the outskirts of town than the flag was waved and we were off up the hill.

It was curiously calm. There were no attacks at all. The daunting toughness gümüşhane escort of the stage had an inhibiting effect, and no-one wanted to commit themselves so early. The peloton tapped out a robust climbing rhythm and everyone just sat in the wheels, with three or four teams sharing the lead as we gained height.

Although it was relentless, the climb had an average gradient of under 5%, so it was pretty easy as climbs go, and I just pedalled along, enjoying the beautiful views over the coast. Climbing like this on a bike is almost therapeutic, but I knew it wouldn’t feel like this by the time we were high on the Sierra Nevada.

Eventually, and pretty painlessly, we reached the first pass, the Collada de Cabra Montes (col of the mountain goat) and the road embarked on a glorious corniche section, winding along the slopes with stunning coastal views. This was truly the cyclist’s high.

I think we were all feeling a little high because when we passed through a short tunnel, everyone started shouting, childishly, just to hear the resonant sound. I guess you could say we were a happy band of pedallers as we started the plateau section and, finally, the attacks began.

By the time we reached the second pass, the Ultimo Suspiro del Moro (last sigh of the Moor) a small group of 6 had broken clear, but they would need to be extremely strong to survive what was coming.

As we skirted Granada, the break had a lead of 2.30 but then we headed into the mountains and the race really began.

An easy 10km up the valley of the Rio Genil almost lulled us into a false sense of security, but then the work started. We had a 35km climb from here to the finish — I think probably the longest ascent ever seen in women’s professional cycling – taking us all the way to the snowline.

The gradient of the normal ski-resort road wasn’t too bad at 7%, but they didn’t take us that way, did they? Oh, no… Instead, they made us first climb up to a village called Güéjar Sierra at 1000m, then plunge back into the river valley, then climb back up the other side to re-join the normal route, using a gnarly little road with sections of 20% and 21%. Cruelty.

The ascent to Güéjar was enough to start loosening the grip of some riders on the peloton, and by the time we started that steep climb to the Puerto de Hazallanas, some of the sprinters, and some of the lesser domestiques, had already been dropped, and we had almost caught the girls in the break.

The remaining peloton strung out as the climb began to bite, and an elite group inexorably started to form, consisting of the top climbers and the strongest super-domestiques, while others were distanced and left to fend for themselves. The 6 girls in the breakaway were picked up, one by one, as the leading group started to apply the pressure.

I was still in this group, and still feeling physically strong, but I had jittery butterflies. I’d never done a climb anywhere near this length, and I had no idea how long I’d last. The fear was real.

I looked around at the riders I was with; Tera, Zara, Lucy, Suzy, Pam, Leona, Elisa… all of them with way more experience. Impostor Syndrome was nagging at me again, and I knew I had to shake myself free of it.

I tried to think of Molly, of how many times she’d told me what I was capable of, and how many times she’d been right… ‘…one of the best climbers in the world…’ Really? Was I?

We emerged on the main Sierra Nevada road, and the gradient became more amenable again. The group, now consisting of only 16 riders, settled back into a metronomic climbing rhythm, with Lucy’s trusty right-hand woman, Olga, leading, and Lucy sitting pretty in the red jersey behind her.

Amstel-Rabo still had four riders in the group, and so did we; Zara, Tera, Marlen, and me, while other teams were more depleted. Leona had no team mates left with her at all.

The pace was sufficient to ensure that no dropped riders could get back on the train, and we forged ahead, all sharing the lead at various times.

We rose above the 2000m contour and everyone’s breathing started to become a little more audible, but the group stayed together. There was no talking. The tension was palpable. Everyone was just concentrating on turning the pedals. I still had butterflies. Who was going to be the next to crack?

At 2100m we reached the entrance of the main ski complex, Solynieve (sun and snow), but we swung left and climbed up to a col called Sabinas, 100m higher, where an older section of road was joined.

This road was built in the 1930s and used to go all the way to the summit of Pico Veleta at almost 3400m, making it the highest road in Europe, but in the 1990s, a barrier was installed at 2550m and the upper section was closed to cars. The old road surface still survives a little higher though, and that’s where we were headed.

At Sabinas the road rounded a hairpin bend, and became rougher and a little steeper. Everything izmir escort suddenly got a lot harder and I detected a wavering in the pace of those ahead of me. I came to the front and lifted the tempo again and riders started to drop from the group, one by one. The final selection had begun.

I was still leading as we passed above the high-altitude training facility, and up ahead I could see the sun glinting off the windscreens of a multitude of cars, parked at the roadhead at 2550m. It looked close, and after that, there would just be the final series of hairpins – zig-zags, switchbacks, whatever you call them — up the Loma de Cauchiles to the finish.

I was still jittery though. Being on the front for so long was a questionable tactic, but my foggy notion was that if I kept the pace witheringly high, it would discourage any attacks, and I’d also get rid of a lot of the group, leaving just a small number of survivors to fight it out for the victory. Maybe I could even drop them all before the finish. It didn’t quite work out like that.

Huge crowds had gathered at the roadhead, Hoya de La Mora (hollow of the moorish woman), all cheering enthusiastically, and I glimpsed a few Brits, waving flags and a banner that had my name on it. They’d been busy pre-race too: I spotted “Chloe” and “Lyoness” painted on the road a few times, which gave me a little lift as I led the remaining group of just 6 riders through the throng of enthusiastically cheering fans.

We rounded a bend and passed through the opened barrier onto the final, even rougher, section of road, and that’s where Zara made her move.

To be honest, it took me by surprise, because I didn’t think anyone would have an attack left in their legs at this point, but she wasn’t the only one: Lucy was straight onto her wheel, determined to defend her overall lead.

To a casual observer, it probably looked like I’d been working for Zara all along, doing a perfect domestique job and launching her for this attack, but I knew nothing about it. We certainly hadn’t planned it.

I was so unprepared that I didn’t immediately respond, but as I rounded the next hairpin and looked back I could see that everyone behind was struggling. It was down to the three of us.

I could see Zara and Lucy up ahead, both still standing up in a slow-motion ding-dong battle. Zara trying to drop Lucy, and Lucy determined not to be dropped. The gap to them was growing, and I had to make a quick decision: Settle for third, or try to fight back?

Settle? SETTLE?… the demon was back. Of course I wouldn’t settle…

I rose up out of the saddle and started mashing the pedals. My legs were made rubbery by the altitude, but I still had a little bit more speed in me. I wasn’t done yet.

I saw that Zara had opened a small gap over Lucy, but they were both sat down again now, both hunched over the bars, and their weaving and meandering spoke of their fatigue. That little battle had taken its toll. My confidence rose.

They rounded the next hairpin just a few metres apart, and as they climbed the next incline they both looked down to me, anxiously.

I was well aware of the psychological battle that was going on here; I knew I needed to look good and threatening, so I stayed out of the saddle, trying to dance on the pedals, but in truth just rocking and rolling. Hopefully, I still looked strong and scary enough to strike fear into their hearts.

I gained a few yards, and all three of us were on the next incline together. Now, we were all sat down and just grimly grinding. The gradient was probably no more than 8% but there was a distinct lack of oxygen in the thin air. It was brutally hard.

I was gaining though. I was definitely gaining.

There were only three or four hairpins left now, and snow lay thickly on both sides of the road. It must have been cold up here but I didn’t notice. My mind was focussed on catching Lucy, who I could tell was suffering.

Halfway up the next incline, I saw her head go down and I knew she’d cracked. I came gradually up behind her, agonisingly slowly – our speed must have been way down in single digits — and I moved left and crawled past.

Zara was within reach now and I was seized with the lust for victory. Team leader or not, no quarter would be given if I caught her. I was not in the mood for gifts. If I could win this stage, I was definitely going to.

We were between the barriers now, less than a kilometre from the finish, and I had 30 metres to make up. Another crowd of diehard fans had gathered up here, and they were banging on the barriers, shouting, yelling, and making a hell of a racket, as they watched this slo-mo chase play out.

We were both meandering wearily, unable to keep a straight course, tired bodies starved of oxygen, legs gone to mush, but she was coming back to me, metre by metre.

She wasted time looking back to see where I was, which was a mistake. Molly always told me, in this situation, ‘never look back, just GO.’ I gained a little more ground.

The finish countdown markers arrived. 400 metres to go, 300… I was so close. 200… 100… I couldn’t make it. She was almost in touching distance as she crossed the line, but a miss is as good as a mile, as they say, and I’d missed. Just.

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Dreamer – Ch. 3

Heather took me to a Chinese restaurant. I had chicken with cashew nuts. We each had three sakes. When it got time to leave, I reached into my bra to get some money out.

“No sweetie. This one’s on me. You can return the favor once you’ve built a little bank roll. And from the comments I heard, that’s not going to take long. One of the regulars said you were the best cock sucker he ever met. And all the guys who fucked you said they’d be back for more.”

For some strange reason, this made me feel proud. I was becoming a good whore. And I was getting a reputation.

We went down the block to a second-hand store. I was able to get a dress, two skirts a couple of blouses and two pairs of shoes for a total of $96. I started looking at the underwear when Heather stopped me.

“Nookie, never buy used underwear. There’s a cheap lingerie shoppe around the corner we can stop at.”

And so we did. Three pairs of lacy panties and a couple of bras set me back another $42. I still had $106 left.

When we left the store, Heather said she was going home and would see me tomorrow.

She knew something was wrong by the look on my face.

“What’s the matter sweetie?”

I shuffled my feet a little and looked at the ground. “I have nowhere to go.”

Without a word, she took me by the hand, and we walked another two blocks. We went into a building and walked up three flights of stairs. She unlocked a door, and we entered a small efficiency apartment. It was tiny but it was impeccably clean.

“You can stay here if you want. The only thing is there’s only one bed.” She raised an eyebrow when she said that.

“That would be okay. I don’t take up much room.”

She stripped off her clothing and put on a blue chemise. bitlis escort She rummaged in her closet and came out with a pink baby doll nightie. “This may be a little big but it’s the best I have for you.”

I put on the nightie and climbed into bed next to her. She leaned up on one elbow and turned towards me. She brushed my hair out of my face and said, “Nookie, have you ever been with another woman?” While she said that, her hand went between my legs.

I decided to play this one honestly. “No, no I haven’t.” And my hand went between her legs.

“Sweetie, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You’re so pretty. And so real.”

“Heather, I’ve never done this before. And I’m not sure I would want to with anyone but you. I, um, may be in love with you.” I hoped I didn’t just make a mistake.

“Nookie, I’m so glad to hear you say that. I feel the same way.”

We spent most of that night exploring each other’s body. Every inch was exposed to lustful hands, lips, and tongues. I loved it most when she sucked on my tits. And although I think it shocked her at first, she seemed to really like it when I put my tongue up her ass. I did that several times during the night, and she ended up orgasming each time. And she used her tongue to bring me to orgasm five times during the night.

In three days, I had given my first (and multiple) blow job, been fucked for the first (and multiple) time and been fucked in the ass. And now I had my first lesbian experience, which was the best of all. The encounters with the guys were ‘having sex’. All they wanted was to blow their load in one of my orifices. Whether or not I enjoyed it didn’t matter to them. But with Heather, it was ‘making love’. It was so tender, and we both were so attentive to each other’s bolu escort needs and pleasure. I decided two things that night: 1. I was a lesbian; and 2, I really did love Heather.

We were a few minutes late the next morning. Neither of us wanted to get out of bed. Besides wanting to make love again, I don’t think either of us slept more than a half hour the previous night. Alejandro looked at his watch and gave us a dirty look when we finally got on the floor.

It was a typical morning. Five or six blowjobs and a few fucks. I was chugging Red Bulls to stay awake. As a result, I was extra energetic for the fucks. The customers appreciated it. I made $400 in tips and had five orgasms.

I crashed hard early in the afternoon. One of the regulars was doing me doggy style when I felt myself falling asleep. Lucky for me he was kind of rough and I woke up after a very forceful thrust from him.

About an hour before the end of my shift, I was summoned to Alejandro’s office. Dianna was sitting on the desk naked with her legs spread wide.

Alejandro motioned for me to sit on the sofa. “I’ve got an out call for the two of you tomorrow. Together. The clients are a man and a woman and you two are going to be horny schoolgirls They specifically asked for the two youngest looking girls I have.”

Dianna looked almost as young as I did. Her smallish breasts and thin figure made her look like she was in high school.

“No makeup except some heavy pink lipstick. A short plaid skirt and a white blouse. White knee socks and some saddle shoes. But what you wear underneath the skirt and blouse should be really slutty.”

“Dianna, Julio knows where you live. He’ll pick you up at 11:30 after he gets Nookie. Where do you live Nookie.”

“I’m staying burdur escort with Heather until I get a place of my own.”

He gave me a look and said, “That explains the lateness this morning. Don’t make a habit out of it. I don’t care what you do on your own time but I expect you to be on the floor when scheduled. Understand?’

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, Julio will pick you up at eleven…Dianna, you can go. I have something else to discuss with Nookie.”

Dianna gave me a look on her way out. I bet she figured I was going to be sucking cock or be bent over the desk after she left.

When the door closed, Alejandro looked at me. “How do you like it here Nookie? Is anything bothering you?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I decided to be honest.

“Well, um, Officer Bryan says he’s going to fuck me in the ass every time he comes in. Do I really have to do that?”

He gave me that dirty look again. “Nookie, let me explain something to you. It’s imperative that we keep the cop happy. So you need to do anything he wants. And that includes getting fucked in the ass. If you didn’t want to get fucked in the ass, you shouldn’t have such a juicy one. Got it?’

“Um, okay.”

He knew I wasn’t happy. “I’ll tell you what. If he fucks you in the ass, I’ll give you $25 instead of the usual $5. Just don’t tell any of the other girls.”

I would get $100 for doing this with a regular customer. But I decided not to push it. I just smiled and nodded.

“Nookie, I noticed you were falling asleep when one of the customers was plowing you from behind. Good thing he didn’t notice. If it happens again, you’ll be giving blowjobs on your knees in a dirty men’s room at the truck stop. Understood?”

“Yes Sir. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s good. You have a lot of talent Sweetie. You can make a lot of money in this business. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I won’t.”

He looked at his watch. “Okay your shift is almost over. Come over here and get on your knees. You have just enough time for you to suck my cock.”

So of course, I did.

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Hi everyone and thank you for choosing my story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Remember it is written to arouse and get you horny, I’m not trying to win The Booker prize here. So yeah, enjoy. And let me know what you think in the comments. X Saige.

Olivia stood in her bedroom about to explode with the emotional whirlwind happening inside her. She was more aroused than she had ever been in her 42 years. The week since Olivia had hatched this plan had been long, each exciting day spent waiting for another delivery of her sexy costume and other naughty items, not having the gaul to go to an adult store. The recently retired school teacher and respected member of the community had never even contemplated doing something so daring, so outrageous. Now, as she dressed the anticipation had become almost too much to bear.

Her plump, hairy pussy was so wet she felt slick and loose, her thick labia dangled and got her wet between her thighs. Her creamy white skin was afire and as she hitched up her black stockings and circled her thumbs around the lacy, jewelled tops, her touch all but took her over the edge.

Olivia had always been, to use a cliché ‘a blonde bombshell’ voluptuous with curves in all the right places and was still in great shape for her years. Of course she had gained the odd wrinkle and line here and there but overall Olivia was happy with how she had aged, her legs were still slender. Sure she had looser, flabbier bits than she’d like and she had become more of a silver, icy blonde to cover the inevitable greying but she still had a body that could turn a head or two.

Her best asset, even back in her college years, had been her E cup breasts still full, firm and pendulous. Her areola were large, dark and pimply and no bra or blouse fabric was a match for her stout, thick nipples when they desired attention. Her tits were the envy of a lot of women, the stuff of fantasy for a lot of men. It thrilled her to know that dads…and some mums too for that matter would sneak a glimpse at ‘accidental’ button slip giving a view of a warm, enticing cleavage in the middle of a PTA meeting.

Olivia bit at her lip, feeling wicked as she fastened up a black underbust corset, the silky material felt sensual and seductive. Her breast thrust up high, perched proudly almost under her chin as It hugged her tight and stiffening her nipples and dampening her pussy further. Her whole body tingled with super-charged adrenaline surging through her veins. Her pulse was racing and her heart beat so hard making it difficult to breathe.

Her body trembled as she slipped feet into her new sexy black, patent leather ‘fuck me’ pumps, they had took her breathe away as soon as she laid eyes on them. She had sat slack jawed stroking the four inch red stiletto heel before trying them on, they looked so…imposing and assertive. The moment she slipped her feet into them she felt like a sex goddess.

Finally she fastened the belt securely around her snug waist and secured the straps, the coarse fabric scratched at her sensitive inner thighs as she secured them. Olivia’s eyes fluttered and she inhaled sharply through her nostrils, trying desperately to stave off her orgasm as the base of the strap on cock pulled up tight against her naked pussy. The pressure and friction against her already engorged clit was so divine and intense she almost collapsed at the knee.

Olivia twisted her hair up into a loose knot and fastened a red leather choker around her slender neck. She stepped, somewhat cumbersome, closer to the mirror to apply a fresh coat of waxy crimson lipstick to her plump, lustful lips and finally she was ready.

She both loved and cringed at the sight of herself. She wondered if she had the balls to go through with her plan or not, but the longer she admired herself in the mirror the more confident she became. She looked authorative but not too dominant. She felt powerful and so fucking hot and sexy her lust was now insatiable.

Throughout her married years, and certainly over the 6 widowed months she felt she had almost lost her feminine sex appeal, she was in fear of becoming boring and frumpy, a far cry from her slutty, insatiable college years. Olivia had, had a recent revelation…an epiphany, if you will and concluded that the rest of her life is still unwritten. There was life in the old dog yet and admiring herself now…she felt like a new woman, slutty and brazen and ready to fuck.

The mirror’s reflection was hard to fathom, she wanted to stay a while longer to idolize and adore herself. Her nipples were as hard as they had ever been. She smoothed her hands over the curve of her synched, taught waist and over her hips. Her calves looked slender and sexy, accentuated by the angle from the four inch heel. Her stockings bit at the soft delicate skin of her creamy thighs, making a sexy little bulge of flesh. In between her trembling thighs hung a thick, black strap-on cock. Olivia swayed her hips and revelled in the thrill of its impact against kırşehir escort her thighs. She tickled her painted fingertips down its veiny length then gripped it and stroked its thick shaft with a wicked, depraved grin.

Olivia was so nervous she felt she could vomit. She shook her trembling hands in the air and took some deep breaths. “Come on, you want this, you can do this.” Her heart was beating in her throat, she gulped it down along with the remainder of her sauvignon blanc with a smack of her lips. She took one final look at herself in the mirror.

“Ok Olivia. Let’s do this!”

***********

Olivia stood trembling at the entrance to the kitchen, she felt devilishly sinful, naughty and dirty in the cold light of day.

Nerves got the better of her, she was just about to back out and rush upstairs when she heard her best friend’s voice. “Ah, finally. What the hell have you been doing, you’ve been upstairs for ages!” said Trudy.

Fuck, no backing out now! Olivia responded in her head. She took one last deep breath.

“Ok Trudy. We’ve known each other for a long time now, good friends yeah?” Olivia said, out of sight, in the safety of the hallway.

“Of course. Of course we’re good friends? What’s up, what’s going on? Are you ok Liv?” she replied, sensing the trepidation in her friend’s voice. “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

Olivia suddenly heard the legs of Trudy’s stool screech on the tile floor.

“No, no. Please Trudy. Stay there. Please just trust me and do as I ask, just for a moment, can you do that?”

“What is going on Liv? You’re scaring me!”

“Oh darling, don’t be scared. Just sit there, close your eyes. You have to promise to keep them closed until I tell you to open them, ok.”

“What?..I’m….

“Oh Trudy please…can you just do it for me…please. Don’t make this any harder.”

“Make what harder? I don’t understand.”

“Please Trudy. Just sit, eyes closed and listen.”

” Ok ok…Jeez, what the hell.”

“Your eyes closed?” Olivia enquired.

“Yes…yes.”

“Promise!”

“I promise.”

“No peeking now!”

“Ok Ok…I promise.” Trudy’s heart by now was beating fast in anxious nervousness.

Olivia peeked around the doorframe to find her friend doing exactly as she had instructed. “No peeking, you promised,” she said. She tried to move, tried to step but her feet wouldn’t budge. Olivia calmed herself with a wave of her hands. With her eyes closed and a deep exhale she finally stepped into the kitchen. The sunlight streaming through the windows made this whole scene even more surreal and outrageous. Olivia’s heels clicked across the tile.

“Ooh, do you have heels on, do you have new shoes?”

“NO PEEKING,” Olivia blurted in panic, louder and more aggressively than she wanted to.

“Keep your eyes closed, just for a moment and listen….no interrupting. I need t…I want to talk to you. I want to help you.”

Olivia admired her friend as she had, secretly on many occasions. She was always envious of her ‘perfection’, her seemingly effortless flawless body. Trudy was a petite, effervescent beauty, the picture of health and beauty. Admittedly she was 6 years younger and still yet to battle all the things middle age brings to a woman…but still.

They had met when Trudy turned out to be Olivia’s tennis coach, they had remained friends despite Olivia’s short lived attempt at a new hobby.

While Olivia was blessed in the tittie department, it was not so for Trudy. She adorned a perky pointed pair of B cups…impeccable nonetheless. She also boasted an athletic body, sexy and toned with a tummy, ass and legs to die for. Beautifully succulent olive tanned skin; an inheritance of her Mediterranean heritage.

Olivia’s heart seemed to malfunction and falter whenever she was around Trudy, she always felt…better and happier in her company. Trudy always looked so good, smelled so good and was…all together….erm perfect.

“Help me? Mmm…you smell divine, what is that?, new perfume too,” Trudy quizzed.

“Yes. So….listen. NO Interrupting!” Olivia said assertively. “I’ve been practicing this speech and it’s no good if you’re interrupting!”

“Speech?” Trudy sniggered.

“Yes. So….listen. You know I love you dearly and would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship we have if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do. So what I am doing now is a great risk, huge risk…not to mention, potentially humiliating, devastating and mortifying.

Anyway, We have had some good times, you’re a good friend and I love you, but seeing how you have become so deflated and so dispirited lately. You’ve lost your zing, your sparkle.”

Trudy’s face turned quizzical and confused as Olivia spoke softly, taking her friends in hers delicately. “It’s been nothing short of heartbreaking to listen to you worry over your marriage, to see you crying…and I can’t take it anymore. I know you’ve talked about leaving him, but you don’t malatya escort really want to, you love the money, the lifestyle, you’d lose the house…etc. I know you love Mike, I love Mike.”

“I’m a little older than you Trudy, I’ve done the whole married to a workaholic thing, stuck in a sexless marriage thing…and look at me now, a wrinkled fingered, lonely widower at 42. And I know you too well Trudy, you couldn’t do an affair, sneak around. cheat on him, cheat on your family….but believe me in a few months when you’re sick of masturbating, that will get tempting.”

“Soo,” Olivia exhaled. “I have a solution. One which doesn’t involve cheating…we’ll not really. One where you can stay with the husband you love, keep everything together…AND get all the sex you desire, keep that insatiable little pussy of yours satisfied.”

“Olivia!” Trudy scorned.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she began to shuffle in her seat. Olivia lent in towards her friend, she felt her body heat. Arousal radiated to Olivia’s core as she inhaled her friend’s intoxicating scent with closed eyes. “Not long now, almost done, I promise,” she whispered seductively.

“Now, at first, you’re gonna think my proposal is outrageous, that I’ve lost my mind…I did. You may even get angry, you may never speak to me again…that’s what I’m risking, but I can no longer watch my friend wither away and die. I know this is the perfect solution….and when you know, when you think about it…you will too. That may be today…tomorrow or next week. But it is the solution……sooo.”

Olivia took a step back from her friend, feeling anxious, feeling vulnerable, putting her own happiness on the line, ready to be exposed in the middle of the kitchen, in the middle of the day. She quickly adjusted her breasts, now at peak arousal.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Trudy tentatively opened her eyes…and they uncontrollably opened wide as she sat there slack-jawed in shock.

“Surprise,” Olivia said with a smile. Suddenly Olivia felt a scorching rage burn from her chest, up her neck and burn her cheeks red with the most overwhelming embarrassment.

“What the fuck Liv…are you crazy?” Trudy shrieked as she vaulted from her stool in shock.

“Wha…wha…are you mad? What are you saying here, we become lovers? Is that why you asked me here for the weekend? Oh Liv, swee…what…oh Liv sweetheart,” Trudy replied, clasping her hands to her heart. “It’s very sweet and very brave. I…I see what you meant now, but you’re my friend…I coul…I couldn’t be gay. Is that what you’re suggesting? We become lesbians?..I..I..wha…!..what the fuck Liv?” Trudy said, her hands covering her quickly reddening face. She would have found the scene hilarious but for the shock.

“NO…NO…no. I’m not in love with you, not that way…no…oh jeez no! No not lesbians, this isn’t a gay thing… fuck. What I meant…my proposal is that I fuck you…with this…get you off. You stay with Mike and get off with me. Nothing more. Then you don’t have to cheat, I’ve seen you naked, I’ve seen your pussy.”

“Not that way you haven’t!”

“Well no..I..

….forget it. I’m sorry, forget it..I just thought, I’m sorry. Forget it.”

The pair stood, awkwardly in silence. Olivia’s face burned and tears began to swell in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She had never felt so embarrassed, so stupid.

Trudy simply stood shaking her head, but her eyes locked onto the new ‘appendage’ hanging, bouncing between her friends legs. Her heart was racing, her body trembling. She looked up and down her friend’s body.

Fuck. It has been a loooong time Trudy? She thought.

She couldn’t take her eyes off how fucking sexy she looked and her amazing titties and that..erm…cock? Fuck that does look good though…and DAYYM she looks fuckin hot. Her mind raced at a million miles an hour trying to evaluate the pros and cons of Olivia’s proposal but in all honesty the cock and seeing her friend dressed like a whore was all she could think of.

So…I stay happily married, keep the family home together and get fucked. Mike will never know, I’m here all the time anyway. She’s right….it’s not really cheating, it’s just like using a dildo…and anyway who are you trying to kid…your pussy is soaked so you can’t be that horrified. You’re desperate for that cock…admit it!

“Say something Trudy….or are you enjoying my humiliation?” Olivia felt her emotions rise, she was close to tears.

Trudy bit at her lip as Olivia’s fake cock wiggled and bounced off her thighs as she turned to leave. She felt a gush to her pussy as she eyed the thick, dimpled, swaying ass of her friend. Trudy wasn’t adverse to the beauty of the female form and had indeed had tasted pussy back in college, she had just never looked at Liv in that way. But now, with the shapely curves, the big brown nipples on those titties, the swaying cock, the stockings and those fuck-sexy shoes.

“STOP…erm…hold niğde escort on a moment,” Trudy suddenly blurted. Her eyes closed at her impulsiveness, her undecidedness.

The pair stood, still in the silence for what seemed an eternity to Olivia, her heart raced, her chest heaved, unsure of what was to come. Trudy, meanwhile, was busy contemplating, mulling the situation in her head, deciding how she was going to play this out as she topped up her wine glass. Trudy then turned and glared at Olivia with a look she had never seen in her Trudy before. Her demeanor was different, full of desire and uncontrollable, wanton lust…and fuck, she looked sexy.

Trudy walked slowly, purposefully towards her friend, her fingertips schemingly tapped at her wine glass. Its heady aroma filled her senses as she took a sip, she circled her friend slowly, stalking, analysing Olivia’s body, making her feel like quivering prey. The tension was palpable, finally Trudy made eye contact as she kicked off her sandals. Olivia couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Her pulse was wild, her stomach tumbled, her hands trembled, she hadn’t felt this feeling of excited trepidation for so long.

Trudy unbuttoned her satin blouse, it hung on her slender frame exposing her wide, boney cleavage. A quiet gasp escaped Olivia’s mouth as she caught sight of her friend’s naked skin. She unbuttoned her trousers, smoothed them over her ass and let them pool around her ankles. Olivia was mesmerized as her friend slowly stripped herself of her clothing until she was before her in only her sexy navy blue, sheer lace bra and matching panties.

Olivia’s pussy began to gush and soak at the sight of her friend’s body. She bit at her lip in nervous excitement as she admired the muscle tone of Trudy’s tummy, the slight line of abdominal definition to her cute little belly button, her pussy mound and pubic hair peeking over the ‘v’ shaped plunging crotch of her panties.

Not a word was said between them. The atmosphere was so intense, Olivia stared, fully entranced as she watched the muscles of her friend’s exquisite shoulders and dimples form around her prominent clavicles as she unhooked her bra. It flashed in Olivia’s mind how the pair had often joked about its requirement.

Oh f u c k m e e! Olivia muttered to herself as she watched the creamy white skin of Trudy’s breasts revealed into the light, the tender, delicate flesh of her underboob imprinted with the seams and stitching. She had no cleavage to speak of, her pyramid-like, delicate little titties jutted slightly outward proudly from her lean ribcage. Her areola were puffy and swollen, with deliciously mouthwatering stubby dusky rose coloured nipples.

Trudy’s thumbs hook into the wispy waistband of her panties that rode her hips, her pussy stubbornly gripped onto them as she tugged them from her thighs. Olivia’s clitoris throbbed and pulsed as she unashamedly lusted after her friend’s pussy.

Olivia was a little surprised to see Trudy had hair there at all, she had expected her to be waxed smooth. But she was delighted to see beautiful untamed wisps of pubic hair in varying tones of brown. There was evidence of maintenance to her outer labia that were waxed smooth at the groin.

Her wildly uncontrollable subconscious couldn’t have been more wrong with images of Trudy that plagued her days in the most inappropriate times, nor the night-time fantasies she conjured left her so wet when she woke for the last week or so.

Olivia was desperate for her to throw her panties toward her to feel their heat, desperate for Trudy to demand that she put them to her face to inhale her sex.

She felt the weight of Trudy’s stare burn into her soul. Olivia was fully aware that Trudy was enjoying, revelling in the spectacle of making herself naked before her friend.

With wine in hand her beautifully manicured feet gracefully stepped Trudy closer to Olivia forcing her back until the edge of the counter dug into Olivia’s back. Trudy gazed into her, her crystal green eyes ablaze with motive, with thirst.

It suddenly occurred to Olivia that this wasn’t going how she had thought, she was supposed to be dominating her Trudy, the plan was to be in control and have her begging to have her best freind fuck her brains out, but at this moment she was unsure exactly what was happening and how this was going to play out…and that was an electrifying feeling.

Olivia’s legs felt boneless. Her senses were afire. The pair were close, they stared at each other, their eyes darting, switching from one focus to another trying to evaluate, trying to read each other. Olivia wanted her more than ever, she had never wanted anything more; this was all she wanted for evermore.

As she held her body close to Olivia, her scent engulfed Trudy’s senses like a hallucinogen. She was out of control and falling deeper into depraved lust for her best friend. Their body heat mingled and merged into one aura. They inhaled each other’s laboured, passionate breath as their breasts heaved and grazed at the nipple.

This is so erotic, she’s so intimidating. Jesus, my pussy is soaked. Olivia thought. The feeling was exquisite, intoxicating and incomparable to anything Olivia had felt before. Olivia was frozen and in awe of her friend, she had never seen her this way, so sexy.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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X: Blake

Blake sat with Chloe in their corner booth, nursing her drink–just a cherry coke, as she had forgotten her fake, not that it worked very often–as she stared absently at all the people writhing on the dance floor. She and Chloe had only arrived a short time ago, and she wasn’t in the mood to dance just yet.

“So why did you want to come out tonight if all you’re going to do is sit there and space out?” Chloe asked, breaking Blake out of her trance.

Blake turned and stuck her tongue out at her friend. Part of the reason Blake had been staring at the dance floor was so Chloe didn’t catch Blake staring at her. She wasn’t head over heels or anything for the older girl or anything, but Chloe was Blake’s type to a ‘T’. Both were athletic, but where Blake was slim and girlish, Chloe was curvy and womanly. Her big, soft tits were the perfect size, and Chloe’s outfit displayed a generous amount of the pillowy flesh while managing to make them look two cup-sizes bigger than they were at the same time.

“I’ve had some shit on my mind for the past few weeks,” Blake admitted, “The past few months, actually–that’s why I called. I needed to talk, and I needed to get out of my apartment tonight.”

“Tonight?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow, “Why tonight?”

“You’re annoyingly perceptive, you know that?” Blake said, glaring at her friend.

“I do,” Chloe said smugly, “Why tonight?”

“Because Marie and her boyfriend are going to be fucking all night and I have a feeling they’re going to be pretty loud.”

“And, little miss headphone gamer girl, that is an issue because…?”

Blake bit her lip, almost drawing blood before she finally sighed. She had never said it out loud before, “Because I want to fuck him.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, studying Blake, then her eyes widened and a wide grin spread across her face, “Oh shit! You don’t just want to fuck him, do you? You actually like this guy!”

Blake held her tongue for a moment, then sighed in defeat, “Yeah, I do. And it fucking sucks. He’s sweet and cute and really hot, and thanks to Marie I know he has a pretty great cock, and–“

“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” Chloe said, raising a hand, “Marie told you about her boyfriend’s junk? From what you’ve told me about that girl, that does *not* sound like her at all.”

Blake shrugged nervously, “Well…I kind of helped her along.”

Chloe stared at her with a blank expression, “Okay, start from the beginning.”

“Well,” Blake began, “Liam came over for the first time about two months ago, and that was the first time either of us met. We were talking and waiting for Marie to get back with some food when he let slip that he’d seen my show–“

Chloe almost spat out her drink, “Wait, he’s seen your show? I mean–that’s not really that surprising, but still. I think I would have a hard time wrapping my head around that if something like that happened to me.”

Chloe knew that Blake cammed, and had actually helped her get started. The one-time she had broken her rule about their initial hook up being a one time thing had been when she invited Blake onto her show–which did about as well as Blake’s was doing now–and had advertised several times that Blake had her own show. The condition had been that they coordinated their schedules and tried not to overlap so they didn’t steal fans from each other and could occasionally mod each other’s shows, which Blake had thought was more than fair.

“Yeah,” Blake said, “I still haven’t figured out exactly what I think about the whole thing.”

“Does Marie know her that her boyfriend has seen you fuck yourself silly on at least one occasion?” Chloe asked.

Blake grabbed Chloe’s drink–which did have alcohol in it–and took a big swig from it before launching into her story again, ignoring Chloe’s initial glare. She told her about how Marie had come to her asking for advice, and about the show and walking in on Marie, and then about how she shared some classes with Liam and the few interactions she’d had with him outside of classes.

“…and it sucks, because I like that Marie and I are getting along and hanging out again, and I like hanging out with Liam because he’s funny and we have a lot in common and he’s an incredible cook, and…” Blake sighed, trailing off. She met Chloe’s gaze, “He’s never judged me for what I do, Chlo. He apparently told Marie she was being too harsh on me, and he deflects attention away from me if we’re hanging out and someone he knows comes up that he thinks might recognize me. He even introduced me to one of his friends when I said it was okay.”

Chloe let out a whistle, “Damn, Blake. That is a shitty situation you’ve gotten yourself into. I wish I could find a guy like that. Or a girl.” She took a sip from her drink, and frowned at how little was left, “Do you think he has any feelings for you? You know, other than the ones in his penis?”

Blake rolled her eyes, but then nodded solemnly, “I think he does–I’ve noticed little differences in the way he acts when it’s just me and him versus when Marie is around. bursa escort He’s too good to acknowledge them or let anything happen as long as he’s dating Marie.”

“And stealing him is definitely out of the question? Even without Marie knowing it was you?”

Blake shook her head, “I think she might know that I think he’s hot at the very least, but she doesn’t care because she knows how good of a guy he is. If she hadn’t changed and kept being a bitch to me, I might consider it, but even then, she’d still be my roommate. That would be way too awkward.”

“And instead you convinced his girlfriend to start blowing him and taking it up the butt. That probably wasn’t one of your smarter moves.”

Blake thumped her head down on the table, “Ugh, don’t remind me.” She picked her head back up, “You know what’s even more stupid? I encouraged Marie to do that because Liam deserves to get blowjobs and anal just really good sex, and I wanted him to have it even if I wasn’t the one giving it to him.”

Chloe leaned back in surprise, staring at Blake with wide eyes, “Okay, that’s way too cheesy, even for you. What did he do? I don’t buy that that is just because he’s a nice package with a nice package.”

Blake couldn’t help but laugh at that, “You’re right. We were walking back from the class we have together, and I think someone recognized me, because I heard someone calling after me, and Liam said there was someone trying to catch up with us. He must have seen how nervous I was, because he squeezed my arm and told me not to worry. When the guy sounded like he’d almost caught up, I heard a thump and looked back, and the guy had tripped and fallen on his face. Liam just put his arm around me and pulled me around the corner. He took a bit of a windy route halfway back to my place–to make sure the guy didn’t try to keep following us, I guess–before stopping and asking if I was okay.”

Chloe stared at her for a while, “And you don’t think that’s because he has feelings for you? I hate to break it to you, Blake, but that’s not something a guy who’s just your friend would do if they’ve barely known you for two months.”

Blake nodded, “I know, and any other time I would agree with you, but that wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. He did something the day after we met. Marie told me he can be strangely protective sometimes, and whenever she’s asked about it, he changes the subject, so I never asked. I don’t think it’s a move or anything like that though.”

Chloe downed the rest of her drink and pushed herself up from the table, “Okay, babe, you need to get your mind off this guy. Unfortunately for you, I’m not going to rock your world tonight, but I’m going to help you find a hottie with big-ass tit to hook up with. To the dance floor!”

Blake rolled her eyes but followed her friend away from the tables and into the mob of dancing people.

Once in the throng, Blake smiled. Her bright blue hair barely stood out at all here. Many of the girls–and even some of the guys–displayed an array of pinks and greens and blues and purples in their hair. A few even had bright red or yellow streaks slashing their darker hair.

Blake and Chloe danced together but kept far enough apart as to not look like they were together–that would defeat the whole purpose of coming onto the dance floor in the first place. As she glanced around the floor, searching for a girl to her liking that hadn’t been snatched up already, Blake noticed Chloe’s eyes darting from person to person as well. Blake saw a few that were okay, and a few that were definitely hot enough, but already with another girl or guy. Finally, Chloe caught her attention, and nodded past Blake, “Found one, babe–she’s checked you out a few times, and the guy she’s with has checked out the guy behind her way too many times for him to be straight. Big tits with a really tiny waist and nice thighs–in a belly shirt. Can’t tell about the hair though.”

Blake turned around and immediately found the girl. *Damn.* She glanced back at Chloe, “You rock, dude.”

Chloe just gave her a smug look, “I know. Go get your mind off that boy’s cock with some pussy and a big set of titties.”

Laughing and rolling her eyes at her friend, Blake made her way through the writhing mob. Her busty target spotted her approached about halfway there and winked as she licked her lips. As Blake got closer, she saw that though the girl was attractive, it wasn’t in a way that oozed sex, or the typical drop-dead untouchable kind of gorgeous, but instead a more intriguing kind of beauty that simply made you want to look at her. She couldn’t exactly tell in the club’s lighting, but Blake thought the girl’s hair was a dirty blonde.

When Blake was close enough to the girl to speak to her, she opened her mouth to ask the girl to dance, but there was no need. The girl stepped up and wrapped her arms around Blake’s waist–she was a lot taller than her, almost as tall as Liam. *No! Stop it, you want pussy and tits tonight. Not cock. No cock!*

“I’m Mikayla,” çanakkale escort The girl said, “You’re Cherry, right?”

*Fuck, a fan.*

Well, there was no taking Mikayla back to her apartment now–Chloe had advised her against that early on. Thankfully, this club had a few nice, private bathrooms that were perfect for hooking up in, and Chloe was friends with one of the girls who worked here that could let people in and out of those rooms, so Chloe and Blake got to make use of them when they were here without any problems.

Blake grinned, wrapping her arms around the taller girl’s neck–something only made possible by her heels, “Yeah, Cherry.”

“Just so you know,” Mikayla said, leaning down to speak in Blake’s ear as she ground against her, “You’re even hotter in person.”

On impulse, Blake nipped at Mikayla’s ear as she pulled back. The girl half squeaked, half moaned, and froze, giving Blake the chance to reply in the same way, “I’m also way more fun.”

Mikayla pulled all the way back, gazing at Blake for a moment, then grinned and leaned in closer. Blake met her half way, reaching up to tangle her fingers in the girl’s hair as she mashed her lips against Mikayla’s. As if by some unvoiced signal, both girls began grinding hard against each other. Blake was on fire, the pleasure from her kisses with Mikayla spreading through her body in a fulfilling warmth that was occasionally accompanied by small tingles of electricity. Her pussy was heating up too, and she could practically smell her own arousal. Or maybe it was Mikayla’s–maybe both.

Eventually, Blake’s pussy became too demanding for her to ignore any longer, and with a growl, she pulled back from Mikayla. The other girl gave her a confused look, but that soon faded into a grin as Blake grabbed her wrist and pulled her off to the dance floor. She found Chole’s friend Addie and caught her gaze as she approached. The girl just grinned and nodded for Blake and Mikayla to follow her away from the dance floor. She unlocked one of the bathroom doors, then handed Blake the key with a wink before walking back toward the club’s main area.

Blake pulled Mikayla in and locked the door before flipping on the lights. Mikayla’s gasp made her grin.

Rather than a room filled with sinks and stalls, the private bathroom had a single toilet in one corner, a large sink in the opposite one, a chair in the corner opposite the door, and a waist-high table against one of the walls, with towels and soaps and a bottle of lube sitting atop it. The walls were floor-to-ceiling mirrors save for the door itself, and dim, blue-tinged lights illuminated the space.

Blake looked to Mikayla, and saw the girl still gazing wide-eyed around the room. Rather than let the girl take it in, however, Blake grabbed her and spun her around, pulling the taller girl’s lips down onto hers. She felt Kyle grin against her lips before the other girl responded, kissing just as hungrily as she had on the dance floor, and igniting the fire in Blake’s pussy once more.

Blake’s mind grew distant as the feel of Mikayla against her began to dominate her senses. One moment they were making out in the middle of the room, the next, Blake found herself pushed up against the wall, legs wrapped around Mikayla’s waist as the blonde cupped and kneaded Blake’s exposed ass. Her tight, black sheath of a dress was basically just a bunched-up shirt at this point.

Blake growled in satisfaction as she and Mikayla tried to devour each other. They nipped and sucked at each other’s tongues and lips, dueled with their tongues, and occasionally nipped and sucked at each other’s ears or neck.

At some point, Blake found her hands running over the hot, exposed flesh of Mikayla’s flat stomach. The next moment, they were palming the massive pillows of flesh stretching Mikayla’s poor shirt, eliciting soft moans and giggles. Then Mikayla pulled back, breaking their lips’ connection and freeing Blake’s ass from her wanting hands. Blake moaned involuntarily in protest, but grinned when Mikayla pulled her shirt up and over her head, revealing a plain black push-up bra that soon followed.

Blake’s eyes turned into saucers as Mikayla’s breasts dropped free. For tits that big, they didn’t drop much. Blake caught Mikayla’s gaze, then squeaked as the other woman grinned and tangled her fingers in Blakes hair before pulling her down toward her chest.

Grinning stupidly, Blake attacked the blonde’s chest, palming, caressing, and tweaking with her hands as she licked and kissed and nipped with her tongue, enjoying the gasps and moans her assault elicited from the other girl.

Blake went stiff and let loose her own gasp though, when Mikayla’s hands returned to Blake’s ass, and the busty girl’s fingers found her pussy. The blonde stroked her through the thin fabric of Blake’s panties for a bit, each teasing touch either causing Blake to either moan or nip at Mikayla’s breasts. The blonde seemed to enjoy the feedback look.

Occasionally, Blake would just burry her face in the other girl’s çankırı escort chest, somehow resisting the urge to motorboat these bountiful boobs. Before long, Mikayla’s nipples were erect and puffy from Blakes insistent sucking and nipping, and practically dripping with saliva.

Mikayla’s teasing had become too much for Blake by that point. Legs quivering, she let Mikayla’s nipple free of her mouth and gasped, “Wait, wait, stop. I’m gonna fall.”

The busty girl chuckled as she helped Blake lower herself enough to put her feet back on the floor. Blake smiled and leaned back against the wall to catch her breath for a moment. Raking one hand through her thick blue locks.

*My mane. That does work a lot better.*

Blake’s eyes shot open as she pushed away thoughts of Liam, and realized the hand not in her hair was at her clit, rubbing circles over the fabric-covered nub. She found Mikayla gazing at her from heavy-lidded eyes as the blonde stripped herself of her tight jeans. Blake her lips, then grinned, continuing to rub her clit as the other girl revealed her legs.

Chloe had been right. Mikayla had great thighs and even nicer hips. Combined with her tits, they made the blonde’s waist appear almost impossibly small. Blake felt her pussy pulse as she took in the taller girl’s nude form. A pinprick of envy for the girl’s luscious curves flickered through Blake’s pussy-addled mind, and she salivated at the sight of the girl’s dark nether lips and the thin line of sandy hair that seemed to guide her eyes toward them. Feeling that hair tickle her nose as she tasted those lips wouldn’t be an option tonight as she hadn’t brought a dam, but that didn’t make Mikayla’s pussy look any less tasty.

*I wonder if she’ll be disappointed at the boosh’s absence.*

Once Mikayla had freed herself of the last of her clothing–she’d kicked off her shoes and stripped off her panties and jeans at once–the taller girl stepped toward Blake, coming closer and closer until she loomed over Blake, gazing down with lust-clouded eyes. The contrast between them made Blake’s heart pound. Wrenching her hand from her pussy with a soft whimper, Blake grabbed at the bottom of her dress, ready to strip it off, but stopped when Mikayla’s hands closed over her wrists. She looked up to find the taller woman shaking her head, lips curled in a smirk dripping with sex.

“Leave it on,” she breathed, “It’s hot.”

Blake moaned as Mikayla bent down and captured her lips again. This time their kissing was slower, less feverish, but steamier, tongues stroking and caressing instead of dueling.

She gasped when Mikayla’s hand cupped the apex of her legs.

“These need to go, though,” the blonde whispered against her lips.”

Blake nodded, and lowered her hands down to peel off her panties. When she looked at tiny strip of thin fabric, she snorted. The fabric was sopping wet, and even had a bit of grool on it, “Well those are ruined.”

Mikayla chuckled and leaned in again, but Blake reset a hand on the girl’s chest, “Wait.”

Blake slipped out from between Mikayla and the wall and sauntered over to the table. She grabbed one of the oversized, fluffy hand towels and laid it on the chair, then moved it away from the wall and gestured for Mikayla to sit.

The blonde grinned and did as she indicated. Once Mikayla was settled, Blake clasped her shoulders and sat down on the taller girl’s lap, straddling her. Even so, she still had to tilt her head up to meet Mikayla’s gaze.

Mikayla grinned for a moment before grabbing a fistful of Blake’s cerulean mane and crushing her lips against her own, free hand returning to Blake’s ass to palm and knead the rounded flesh. Blake’s own hands returned to Mikayla’s chest, squeezing the pert orbs and tweaking their pointed nipples in turn as her lips fought against Mikayla’s.

Blake’s pussy was aching now, to the point she knew there would be a glistening trail on Mikayla’s thighs leading to a damp spot on the towel beneath. When a finger brushed her lips, she moaned into Mikayla’s mouth, and could feel the other girl’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk. Not to be outdone, Blake moved her own hands–only somewhat reluctantly–from Mikayla’s chest. One went up to tangle in the hair at the nape of Mikayla’s neck, while the other traveled down to Mikayla’s pussy. She ran her fingers through the small strip of hair before lightly brushing those lips with her finger tips.

Blake would have smiled her own satisfied smirk at the gasp she drew from Mikayla, had the blonde not slipped a finger between Blake’s own lips.

“Fuck,” she breathed, leaning forward to rest her head on Mikayla’s chest.

The blonde let loose a husky chuckle, moving the hand at Blake’s ass to tangle in her mane and hold her head against her chest, only for the laugh to turn to a moan as Blake thrust a neatly manicured finger as far as she could into Mikayla’s pussy. Blake sucked in a breath at the feeling. She could play with her own pussy whenever she wanted, but there was always something thrilling to the feel of another girl’s wet lips. The finger in Mikayla felt so deliciously slick, the walls around it so hot and tight. A moment later, Blake hissed, becoming aware of her own slick tightness as Mikayla mimicked her and slid a finger in deep. Blake’s pussy felt like it was going to explode it was so hot.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She pulled a dress over her lingerie for the drive.

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

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

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

“That’s up to you,” Dara winked.

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

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

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

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

“Me?” asked Dara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She clasped my hand as she said, this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dara released my hand and rubbed my shoulders patiently.

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

“Like what?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like… hmm….”

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

Or just something she thought looked cool.

“How’s the steak?” she asked.

“Tough,” I answered honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, that was still pretty bad, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay,” he said. “So am I.”

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

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

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

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

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

He took his time signing the store copy of the receipt, glancing up at me from under his nicely long eyelashes, and my stomach flopped around like a beached fish, wondering if I was about to get another name and phone number slipped to me, and have to figure out what I wanted to do with it.

His fingers brushed deliberately against mine as he handed me the receipt, and I handed him the bag.

“Stay cool, sweetness,” he said, and left, as if he said that sort of thing every day.

There was no name or number on the receipt. There was a nice five-dollar tip, and a smiley face.

The clearing of a throat reminded me that I was not alone.

“Well, that explains it,” said Tyler.

I turned to find him watching me with crossed arms.

“Huh?”

“Why you’re acting so weird,” he said, nodding at the customer’s back. “New boyfriend?”

“Nope,” I answered, a bit smug in my honesty. “Never seen him before.”

“Sure, okay,” said Tyler. “Go on, break time. Get in your smooches or whatever.”

He sounded as disapproving as he did proud of his own permissiveness. That tone should have haunted my nightmares for weeks to come, and made it utterly impossible for me to feel good about “smooches” or anything else that might have made me happy.

But the smug thrill of what I’d just done was so tough and dense inside me, that Tyler’s voice just bounced off of it.

“Okay, thanks.”

I had my phone out as soon as I left the Pepperland kiosk, a text to Dara in progress under my thumbs.

Briony: I did it!

Dara: Congrats, babe

Briony: Amazing.

Dara: Did it go any farther than ‘babe’?

Briony: No. I actually thought it might for a moment, though. The vibes got intense.

Dara: It’s a high, right? Flirting?

Briony: Big time. My skin feels like it’s vibrating.

Dara: Can you get somewhere private? It’s dead slow here.

Briony: Semi-private, maybe?

Dara: Even better 😉

I rushed down one of the long employee access corridors that ran behind the restaurant kiosks and wedged myself into a little alcove, next to a drinking fountain. Someone else could come down that stark white corridor at any moment, but I’d be able to hear them long before they’d be able to see me.

Sitting on the tile floor with my knees pulled close in front of me, I started a video call.

Dara answered immediately, appearing on my screen in her Violet bra and panties, surrounded by the dim mood lighting of a Little Heaven room at the club.

“Are you being a bad girl like I asked?” she murmured.

“So bad,” I answered.

“Good. Can you guess what your next bad girl assignment is?”

“Is it cybering with my girlfriend while I’m at work?” I asked. “Because I really want it to be.”

Dara touched her fingers to her lips, veiling a giggle.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ve just never heard anyone our age say ‘cybering’ before.”

I shrugged away an oncoming blush. “It’s what my parents used to call it when they told me why I couldn’t have a bedroom door.”

“Oh.” Dara reached toward the screen, as if to touch my face in sympathy. She laughed lightly again, before I could feel too pathetic. “So, you have practice at this, don’t you? Sneaking a little treat in plain sight?”

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

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

Jess and I got together two years ago. She was and is my first love. She is an amazing, awesome, beautiful woman.

In the early days of our relationship we took the physical side slowly. I was not only a virgin but had also only recently acknowledged my sexuality.

Before we first slept together, we used to have sexy Whatsapp conversations in which we fantasised about what we wanted to do to each other.

It was a really sweet (and damned sexy) way of finding out about each other in a safe and secure way. It helped me get comfortable before committing to my first physical relationship (which Jess knew I was nervous about) and to build the ancipation of making love in real life.

Recently, while looking back through my old messages, I found the first of those conversations, which I’ll share with you here. What seems funny looking back is the difference in our sexual referencing! Jess was (and is) very confident and frank and explicit and I sound so prim and reserved!

The background to this story is that, having been pretty much inseparable since we met and started to fall in love, we were forced apart for a few days. Jess was at home in London and I had travelled to Paris on a work assignment.

I’d gone to an early morning yoga session at my hotel and had sent Jess some smiley pictures of me wearing just yoga leggings and a sports bra in a ‘good morning gorgeous’ sort of message. Apparently, she liked what she saw…

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as we did typing it to each other. This is the full and uncensored conversation, which took place over the course of two days. (As you read it, imagine having to concentrate at work with this going on in the background!). As you’ll see from the ending, there is another thread that follows on, which I’ll share later if you’re interested.

OK. Here goes.

Jess (Monday 07:19): You look so hot baby! I’m now fantasising about doing things to you. xxx

Hannah (Monday 08:47): Oh yeah? Care to elaborate? xxx

Jess (Monday 08:53): For starters I’d get my hands inside that sports bra and feel those amazing tits!

Hannah (Monday 09:07): Ooh. Sounds nice. And then…?

Jess (Monday 17:37): While I massage them lovingly and run my palms over your nipples I kiss you softly on the lips, and then explore your mouth with my tongue.

Hannah (Monday 17:49): My breasts are actually aching to feel your hands on them! OK, what next?

Jess (Monday 20:12): I push your bra up until your tits are free and I use my mouth on those tender, perky little nipples until they’re fully hard and glistening with my saliva. But just when you’re expecting more, I carefully put you back in your bra and walk away. Leaving çorum escort you hot. And wanting more…

Hannah (Monday 20:15): Oh god, baby. Stop. You are making me….I don’t want to say it! (Wet).

Jess (Monday 20:20): Good. I love wet pussy. Want to hear more?

Hannah (Monday 20:23) : No! (YES!)

Jess (Monday 20:49): Then let me tell you a story. I’ll need your help. I’ll let you know when with a (?).

Hannah (Monday 20:57): OK. Gulp. God help me. xxx

Jess: (Monday 21:19): The story telling will start tomorrow morning. This is going to be so much more fun if I know you’re meeting with clients and trying not to come in your pants reading it! Good night baby girl…

Hannah (Monday 21:30): You’re so cruel! Oh well. At least I know what you’ll be thinking about tonight in bed.

Jess (Tuesday 06:21): Our story starts later that same day. We are alone in your house. You’re still wearing your yoga gear and I have nothing on but a big grey hoody which barely covers my ass. I take your hand and lead you into your bedroom. I close the door behind us and push my body up against you. I grab your bum and pull you hard against me, positioning one of your thighs between my bare legs. I start to ride it and work my cunt gently against you, the friction of your soft leggings on my naked clit making it tingle. You respond and we kiss. Long and slow, alternating between soft gentle smooches and deep, passionate french kisses. Your hands touch the sides of my face and then bury themselves in my hair as the intensity changes. And then…

Jess (Tuesday 09:11): I slowly break off the kiss, and caress your bare stomach with the fingertips of one hand, making you shudder. I edge a finger into the waistband of your yoga pants, look into your eyes and ask in a whisper, “Do you want me to keep going baby?” while simultaneously wondering if you’re wearing any underwear.

Jess (Tuesday 11:51): (?) And so you have a choice to make. We’ve not been this far before. We’re breaking new ground. Are you going to let me carry on? Or are you going to stop me? It’s up to you…

Hannah (Tuesday 12:07): I’m so torn. My good-girl conscience is telling me to stop. It’s telling me I can’t allow this to happen. That I can’t let another girl touch me down there. But your lips on mine and your tongue in my mouth felt so nice and so natural. And after all, don’t I secretly want this to happen? Haven’t I always fantasised about making love with this beautiful blonde girl of my dreams. Isn’t this why I didn’t put any underwear on this morning? Every atom of my body and soul wants you – NEEDS YOU – to carry on. But still I hesitate before answering.

Jess (Tuesday 14:44): denizli escort (?) You didn’t answer my question. So what’s it going to be? My hand is almost in your leggings. I’m poised to explore you. I don’t think I could stand it if you turn me away.

Hannah (Tuesday 15.01): I manage to overrule my conscience. I’m excited but so, so nervous. I whisper “Yes” in response to your question, but add “Please be gentle. I’ve not done this before”, which you didn’t know. I surrender to the feeling of your hands on the soft skin of my stomach, close my eyes and tilt my head back, resting it against the door. I move my hips towards you, inviting for you to touch me where I’m starting to throb with anticipation.

Jess (Tuesday 19:18): Your confession of innocence takes me by surprise. The thought of your virgin pussy waiting for my touch becomes too much. But I force myself to take my time. I slide my hand into your leggings. You are naked beneath and my fingertips soon reach the soft mound beneath your belly. I stop momentarily to savour the moment. My cunt is wet and throbbing with the anticipation of exploring yours. My nipples are hard and they rub deliciously on the inside of my hoody. I want this so much. My fingers start moving again…

Jess (Tuesday 19:26): (?) So, what will I find as I explore further? And what reaction will I get?

Hannah (Tuesday 22:32): As your fingers brush over the short, soft hair above my vulva and move slowly closer to the very centre of me, any thoughts of resistance evaporate. Between my legs I am wet and aching desparately with desire. I’m almost at the point of begging for you to touch me now.

Jess (Tuesday 22:35): The soft fabric of your leggings stretches easily to accommodate my hand as it descends over the curve of your mound. As my fingers approach, you move your legs apart a little to allow me better access, and finally, I make contact with the soft, fleshly lips between them. I look at your face to see your reaction but your eyes remain closed. Your breathing is starting to deepen. I wonder what’s going through your mind. (?)

Hannah (Tuesday 22:45): I gasp involuntarily as your fingers delicately brush the ultra-sensitive bud of my clitoris. I feel them move into my labia, spreading me open as they explore. I’m so wet. One of your fingers slides effortlessly inside me before being withdrawn, slippery with my horny secretions. You massage me, gently kneading my engorged lips with one hand while the other slips around behind me and squeezes my ass. Having been entered now, my vagina yearns for the feel of your fingers inside it again, but instead you begin to tease my hot little clitoris.

Jess (Tuesday 22.55): düzce escort I’m dizzy from the sensation of fingering you. Now I want to make you come. I massage your delicate pussy lips with the pads of my fingers and can’t get enough of the luxurious silky wetness between them. I gradually increase the intensity on your clit but I sense your desire to be penetrated and occasionally pause to slide two fingers in and out of your succulent hole. I can feel the muscles of your vagina contracting around them.

Hannah (Tuesday 23:07): I can feel a powerful wave building within me. Your fingers feel very tight inside me, but so, so good. My clit is begging for you to go faster. I start to move my hips and rhythmically thrust myself against your hand. The wave is almost ready to break.

Jess (Tuesday 23:14): You are breathing fast and hard and moaning softly with pleasure. Your legs are shaking. Your orgasm is inevitable. I frantically frig your clit until you start to buck against me and moan.

Hannah (Tuesday 23:30): It starts deep behind the bud of my clitoris and triggers a slow motion explosion that pulses through my pussy and up throughout my body. The intensity is overwhelming. I’ve never felt anything like it before. I continue to grind myself onto your hand. Mercifully, you cup my vulva in your palm and rock gently with me as I come down. I couldn’t bear for you to take it away yet. The world as I know it has just ended. The only things left in it are you and me and this beautiful love we have created. I’m exhausted. My legs collapse. Only our close embrace is keeping me upright.

Jess (Tuesday 23:37): You breathe hard into my neck. Your arms around me. The amazing crisis we reached together is over and everything feels calm. The sweet nectar from your pussy is all over my hand and your mound and thighs are slippery with it too. When it feels safe, I slowly remove my hand from between your legs and kiss you tenderly. I whisper that I love you. You don’t respond but it’s not important right now. (?)

Hannah (Tuesday 23:49): I hear those amazing words, and I want to tell you that I love you too, but I can’t speak just yet.

Jess (Tuesday 23:52): I need to get this amazing woman into bed to recover. I lift your bra top up and you raise your arms so I can slip it over your head. I kneel before you and help you out of her leggings. Naked and vulnerable, you are beautiful. You are everything I’ve ever wanted. I pull my hoody off and lead you to your bed and we climb naked together under the covers, completely spent. We lie still, wrapped lovingly around each other.

Hannah (Wednesday 00:01): You lie on your back with your arm around me. I lie on my side cuddled up to you. We lie there for who knows how long. The throbbing between my legs gradually subsides. Time passes. I begin to feel horny again. I want to please this beautiful nymph next to me who just made me come so hard. I lift me head off your shoulder and move my mouth towards yours…

Part 2 to follow.

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

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

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

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

I am flying. I am underground.

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

I can see everything. I can feel everything.

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

Too much. Not enough.

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

“Mm~ Baby, you’re shaking.”

She bucked down into me.

My mouth opened. No sound came out.

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

Another night, another penny.

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

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

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

“Yeah, fuck you, too!”

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

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

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

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

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

“…hey. Hey.”

“…mmph–wha, huh??”

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

“Enjoying your little nap, pipsqueak?”

“N-No, I’m sorry, I–“

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

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

“Y-Yeah, I guess so.”

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah… not again.

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

Keep it together, Molly. Just keep it together…

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

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

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

“W…What?”

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

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

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

“Why? Oh, I’ll tell you why.”

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

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

A little tighter.

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

Sharper.

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

Deeper.

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

“O-Oh.”

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

“Yeah, I-I can see that.”

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

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

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

“Am I clear, pip? ♡”

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

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

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

I gasped, my body tensing, my breath stalling.

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

“Someone m-might… mmh, see us…”

A useless protest.

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

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

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

“Mnm, Molly, you smell so sweet~ ♡”

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

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

“Auuh… ahhaa, f-fuck…”

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

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

Mounting me like a prize pony.

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

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

…The fuck have I just gotten myself into…?

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

[8:41 P.M.]

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

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

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

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

If you could even call it that.

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

“…the fuck am I holding?”

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

Being naked is more preferable than this horseshit.

“B-Boss, you seriously can’t expect–“

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

I clenched my teeth, my frustration building.

She’s fucking with me…

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

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

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

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

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

“…Like what?”

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

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

She really is fucking with me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Every night.”

I froze.

“If you want to, that is~”

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

Haruka clicked her tongue, disappointed but not surprised.

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

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

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

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

[8:54 P.M.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not one female customer was in sight.

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

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

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

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

[9:00 P.M.]

Three hours. I got this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’re all watching me.

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

Not yet.

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

[10:24 P.M.]

Pull yourself together… you can do this.

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

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

To devour.

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

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

“S-Stop, at least l-let me…”

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

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

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

Something humiliating.

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

I almost hoped it would, too.

“Aaghh, n-nohh!”

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

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

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

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

“S-Still no… mmhhh!”

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

No, I’m gonna…

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

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

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

This can’t go on.

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

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

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

My ass was then immediately met with a forceful slap.

“Nyahhh!!”

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

Fuck me, they’re all so huge…

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

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

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

“S-Stop it… ahh!”

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

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

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Love, lust and marriage part two

[This is a direct continuation from part one if you have skipped straight to this part lots of things won’t make sense and it’ll upset me. You wouldn’t want to upset me would you? Go back and read it and when you have I’ll be waiting here for you. If you’re ready now, let me begin…]

I slept for about an hour and when I woke up Sophie had gone, I had a visit from the doctor and I was told I’d be allowed to go home tomorrow. I was feeling good because I would be able to go to an event Sophie had been looking forward to, her firm had bought an art gallery, which was opening up with an upper-class party thing. Sophie had told me there would be free wine, which had won me over, any excuse for a little black dress! When Sophie and I were in public together, especially at a club or party, we got a lot of attention. I don’t mean that to sound arrogant, it’s just that seeing two attractive women dancing with each other and being close usually made people look up.

I was looking forward to it, and I let my mind run free with what might happen there, sometimes we would hook up with a man, or woman, and tempt them to a nearby hotel room. It was always fun when we explored a new person, making them our plaything. I was starting to feel a little tingle between my legs as I thought about what we had done earlier today and I wished we had had more time together. Our lovemaking was not usually so rampant; we normally like to take our time until we’re both utterly spent and naked in each other’s arms until the next day.

It was around 11pm and apart from the dim light coming from the nurses’ station and the soft glow from the monitors beside the beds, the ward was bathed in darkness. I tried sleeping but I could not turn my mind off, instead, I kept replaying the events of the day and how turned on I had been in the bathroom with Sophie. I started running my hand over my stomach and weighed up whether or not I could have a little play before bedtime, but I was distracted by the sound of footsteps approaching my bed.

I quickly stopped stroking and put my hands on top of the bedsheet, trying to figure out a position to lay in which looked like I definitely wasn’t about to touch my naughty bits…again. I looked into the darkness and saw the person approaching me was Louise, the nurse who I’d flashed on my first day here and had been here earlier when Sophie and I had…been close. At only 5 feet tall with her blonde hair back in a ponytail and petite frame, she was unmistakable. I tried to look like I was thoughtfully contemplating…anything, while also looking cute and frail.

“Hello, Mrs Cotter,” she said. Her voice was very low so as not to awaken the other women on the ward. “How are you feeling?” Louise didn’t look at the monitors or my chart, she seemed uncomfortable as if she wasn’t sure of herself.

“Hi,” I said trying to match her volume. “I feel good thanks, just struggling to sleep. I don’t normally go to bed this early and I can’t seem to make my mind go blank.” Louise smiled and looked down at her feet.

“Good, that’s good,” she said.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “It’s a little late for a check-up, isn’t it? And please, call me Alice.”

“Okay, Alice, yeah I know it is,” she looked down again. “It’s just uh, there’s a few of us on tonight and there’s not much for us to do. I saw you moving around and thought I’d check on you.”

“Oh okay,” I was sure I had not been moving around that much and it was very dark but I took her at her word.

“There was something though,” she said awkwardly. “Something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh,” I said suddenly intrigued. “What did you want to ask?”

“Earlier on, when your wife was here,” Louise spoke very deliberately and carefully. “Were you… making fun of me?” She did not seem upset or angry, if anything she sounded concerned as if she had somehow failed.

“No, of course not,” I told her.

“It’s just that, you seemed to tease me and laugh at me…” she trailed off.

“No Louise, we weren’t making fun of you it’s just, we were playing around and,” I tried to think of a good way to word it that did not make my wife and I look like attention-seeking slags. “Basically, we are attention-seeking slags!” (Shit!)

“Oh, so you uh…” Louise’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand.

“Look,” I stopped her. “We enjoy showing off together and having fun, it’s a turn on when we know we’re being watched. Thinking about another person’s eyes on our bodies is a thrill that we share.”

“It turned you on knowing I was watching you?” Louise asked. Eager to understand what I meant.

“So you were watching,” I teased. “Did you like what you saw?” Louise shifted uncomfortably and stepped closer to my bed.

“I uh…” she stammered. “I saw you when you first came in and, I don’t know if you knew it but your hospital gown was around your waist and I could see your umm… and today you were kissing today it was…I’ve never seen two women elazığ escort kiss each other like that before.” She took a breath and looked down at the floor again.

“Ah right, I see,” I said softly.

“Did you know I could see you yesterday?” Louise asked.

“Maybe,” I teased.

“And today,” she pressed.

“Definitely maybe,” I smiled. “So you’ve never seen two women kiss like we did?”

“No, never,” said Louise.

“Not even in a movie?” I asked.

“No, never,” she shook her head to emphasise it.

“So, what did you think of it?” I pressed on. “Did you like watching us?”

“It was…beautiful,” she said in a voice just barely above a whisper. I swear my heart melted when I heard that, it sounded so genuine and innocent. She was right next to my bed now; I sat up, reached out, and took her hand in mine.

“That’s so sweet honey,” I told her. “Did a part of you wish it was you kissing me rather than my wife?” I felt her hand tighten around mine a little. I gently stroked my thumb over her knuckles and kept the touch soft.

“Yes, but I know that’s wrong of me, you’re married and I’m…” Louise stopped talking because I had brought her hand to my lips and softly kissed it. She watched with a look of disbelief that I was encouraging her further.

“Listen, Sophie and I have been married a long time and we have rules,” I told her calmly in-between kisses on her hand and wrist. “We can have fun with anyone we want so long as we tell each other all about it afterwards, no secrets, and no lies.”

“So, she wouldn’t mind that you’re kissing my hand like that?” Louise asked. From the sound of her voice, I think she still wasn’t believing what was happening here.

“No, and she wouldn’t mind this either…” I said calmly. I let go of her hand and stroked her cheek with the palm of my hand, then reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. I held her there and sat up until my face was right up to hers, with our noses touching. I could feel her slightly trembling, so I did not want to go hard and fast in case it scared her away. I moved slowly instead, giving her time to process what was happening and looked into her eyes.

“I uh, I’ve never,” Louise whispered. “I mean, I don’t know how to…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Have you kissed before?” I asked with no judgement in my voice, I did not want to make her feel embarrassed. She gently shook her head and I felt her hold her breath as if she was bracing herself for what I might say or do. I moved back and looked right at her, I had one hand on each cheek but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

“Nobody has ever wanted me like that,” said Louise.

“I want you,” I told her. She slowly lifted her gaze and finally looked me in the eyes; I closed the remaining gap between us and softly kissed her lips. I lingered there for a moment with my lips touching hers then pulled away. “Did it feel okay?”

“Mmm,” she nodded slightly.

“Do you want more?” I said quietly.

“Yes please,” she sounded so damn cute. I moved back in and kissed her again, I put a little more pressure on this time and I felt her pout and kiss me back. It took a moment but after she got used to it, I let my tongue gently trace over her lips in the hope of encouraging her to let me in; and when she did, I accepted the invitation. There’s something very special about being someone’s first kiss or first sexual experience, knowing that you’re going somewhere no one else has been felt so pure. She was tentative at first but she got more confident, and her tongue moved around mine and we smooched together.

I moved my hands around her neck and pulled her closer; I playfully pulled her bottom lip with my teeth and sucked it between my lips. Then, I felt her tongue push into my mouth, so I closed my lips around it, sucked, and licked it like a lollipop before releasing it. Our mouths pressed together and we explored like that for what seemed like hours, but eventually, I pulled back.

“You’re a good kisser,” I told her with a smile. “Will you get in trouble for doing this if we get caught?”

“Tonight was my last shift here, and technically I finished work a few minutes ago,” said Louise. “I can slip out the side door without being seen.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I giggled. I let go of her and got back in bed, then moved away. “Get in.”

“What, no, I can’t do that,” Louise said suddenly worried. The reality of what I wanted to do with her must have just hit her.

“Of course you can,” I told her with a cheeky smile. I got hold of the sheets and pulled them right back over me, Louise’s eyes bulged when she saw my naked body suddenly revealed to her!

“Oh, wow you’re naked,” she said astonished. I couldn’t help giggling at her as her eyes travelled all over my body, I loved it and judging by the look on her face she loved it too! She slowly moved towards me and started to step up.

“Wait,” I stopped her.

“What?” she looked up startled, maybe erzincan escort afraid I’d changed my mind or something.

“Your dress,” I said smiling and shaking my head. She looked down and then back at me, she looked so scared and worried.

“Seriously? You want me to get undressed here?” She sounded worried but I knew what I wanted! To let her know I meant it I leaned forward and pulled at her dress from the bottom, bringing it up over her knees and thighs, I was desperate to see what she had under there! It was like unwrapping a new present.

“Come on,” I urged her.

“Okay but, what if someone sees us?” She asked as she reached around to unzip her dress.

“Then they’ll get a hell of a show,” I winked and she smiled uneasily at me. “Stop worrying about what might happen and focus on what you want to happen!”

That seemed to do the trick; she quickly lifted her dress over her head and let it fall on the floor, then quickly climbed into my bed. She still had her underwear on but I threw the covers over us anyway, I could deal with that in a moment. We were giggling like mad; I pulled her close and felt her hot body against mine. We kissed again and our hands were all over each other, she was still being cautious; she did not touch my breasts or pussy yet. Instead, I felt her hands on my bare back and bum.

With our lips pressed together, I let my fingers run up and down her spine, I could feel her heart pounding so much it was making her body shake. I unhooked her bra and pulled the straps down her shoulders and she lifted her arms out of it, I felt her hold her breath as I removed it and tossed it out of the bed. I pulled out of our kiss and glanced down at her chest, she didn’t have much there but they were pert and proud. I took hold of her right breast and softly squeezed it, drawing a sweet sigh from Louise; I felt her nipple start to harden in my palm as I returned my lips to hers.

I did not want to rush this, if this was her first time I wanted to make it more than a five-second fondle and finger blast! I moved my lips to her neck and softly kissed her there. Every new part of her I touched or kissed made her writhe as if her senses were on overload. It was all new and exciting for her and I was revelling in making her feel this way, my hands wandered down to the small of her back until I found the waistband of her panties. As soon as I touched them, I felt her body stiffen; she was about to be completely naked with a woman in a hospital bed and when that realisation dawned on her she had to stop and catch her breath.

“It’s okay Louise, it will all be okay,” I stroked her cheek and kissed her again. She loosened up a little and I started to work them down over her bum and down her thighs. When I reached to pull them off, I peeled her socks off too and dropped everything on the floor. When I was back beside her, she had stopped smiling but the arousal in her was unmistakable.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Louise whispered, more to herself than to me. I ran my hand back up over her bum, and back, and rested it on her breast again.

“Believe it,” I said lowering my lips to her ear. “You are naked and in bed with a married woman!” I giggled again and kissed her lips. She rolled onto her back, I was propped up on my left elbow beside her with my hand roaming over her belly, I waited for her breathing to slow down and relax. She was getting used to being touched and starting to enjoy herself, I could tell because the nervousness in her smile had been replaced with a more joyful expression her hands had begun to do a little exploring of their own. I overdid a couple of gasps when she brushed against my nipples to encourage her further, and when I was sure that she was ready; I moved on.

I swung my right leg over her hips and straddled her, letting the cover fall off me, which gave her a clear view of my naked body on top of her. I drank in the view from my position as well; she looked tiny underneath me from her narrow shoulders and small breasts down to her slim waist. If I had not known she was over school leaving age I probably would have stayed away from her in case I got a visit from the police the next day! I looked down at her face and I was pleased to she was looking at my body with a mixture of desire and surprise. I put my hands on her shoulders and ran them down over her body; her skin was so soft I just wanted to rub myself all over it.

I shifted my hips down a little so I was over her thighs, giving me a proper view of what she had down there. Her pubic area was bare just like mine, Sophie and I had hair removing laser treatment as a Christmas present one year.

“Mmm you’re so pretty down here,” I said while gently stroking over her mound. “I love a nice smooth pussy to play with.” I couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not because of the darkness but the slightly nervous laugh told me she probably was.

“Uh thanks,” she whispered. Probably unsure of how to respond erzurum escort to my dirty talk, I think her focus was on the feeling of my hands running over her body so close to her most intimate part. I leant down and kissed her just below her navel, if I was with Sophie now I’d go straight down to the ‘main event’ between her legs, but as Louise was new to me I wanted to explore some more. I kissed upwards from her navel to where her ribs pushed out against her skin, licking and kissing all along the ridge until my head was between her breasts. A few times she squirmed beneath me, I think my hair was tickling her skin as well as the effect my lips and tongue were having on her.

“God that feels so nice,” she said breathlessly.

“God’s got nothing to do with it,” I said between kisses. “This is all me, honey!”

I heard her giggle and I moved my lips to her left breast and kissed her nipple. The girlish giggle turned into a very womanly gasp, I circled my tongue around it slowly and closed my lips over it. I sucked it lightly between my lips before releasing it and using my tongue again, then replaced it with my fingers so I could use my mouth on the other side. The squirms I felt beneath me now had nothing to do with my hair! After just a few seconds of the gentle licking, sucking and light pinching her nipples felt like bullets.

“Oh wow,” Louise arched her neck back and pushed her chest out to me. Her nipples must have felt incredibly sensitive because every light touch was making her gasp and causing her to wriggle against me. I took each one between my finger and thumb and mercilessly rolled and pinched them, her mouth hung open in a silent scream and again arched her neck. This time I moved up and licked her from between her breasts to her chin, gliding over her throat on my way there. She lowered her face and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a passionate kiss. Her tongue greedily invaded my mouth, her hunger was unleashed and she wanted to be satisfied for the first time in her life!

I finally released her nipples to give Louise a chance to catch her breath; I raised my lips away from hers and looked into her gorgeous eyes. Neither of us spoke, we were beyond words now, we communicated by looking and feeling. The next thing Louise would feel was my hand travelling downwards and this time it wouldn’t be stopping, her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened as my fingers reached the wetness between her legs. Her silky lips were damp and inviting; I pushed one finger into her crease and slid it up and down making her quiver with each pass. When I found her clitoris, I dragged my fingertip around it and Louise’s eyes widened again. She was breathing heavily and her head lolled to the side offering me a chance to put my lips on her exposed neck. Her skin was hot and judging by the way she reacted to a simple kiss on her neck, incredibly sensitive.

“Your lips are so soft,” said Louise between heavy breaths. “It’s like a… mmmmm!” I stopped her in her tracks by pinching her skin between my teeth and then licking her from her neck to her cheek. Stopping only to gently bite her earlobe, she let out a sound similar to a cat’s purr and I had to stop myself from making a pussy joke and spoiling the moment!

When I rubbed my wet fingertip over her hot little button again, I could feel her legs instinctively trying to open but, because I was sitting on her thighs, she couldn’t move them so I began to reposition myself. I lifted my hips off her and gently moved her thighs apart and knelt between them, then guided her legs so her feet were flat on the bed with her knees pointing to the ceiling. She was up on her elbows and watching me intently as I slid my palm over her wet pussy lips, before I could start doing more I needed to ask something.

“Louise, uh you said you’re a virgin right?” I didn’t want to make her feel awkward here.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. She looked down at my hand as my fingers circled her opening and then looked back up at me, evidently she’d realized what I was asking. “Don’t worry about it, I broke it myself, by accident.”

“An accident?” I was partly relieved I wouldn’t have to pop her cherry, and weirdly disappointed at the same time.

“Yeah,” said Louise. “Do you like bananas?”

“Sure,” I replied. I teased her open slightly which made her ability to speak falter.

“Me too, and one day I…uh,” she trailed off.

“Oh,” I tried so hard not to laugh. The idea of her riding a fruit was so priceless though! “Was it one of your ‘five a day'” I teased. We both giggled for a moment but the constant touch of my fingers around her pussy and her clitoris turned the giggles back to lustful moans.

“Louise,” I whispered again. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” She shook her head but didn’t recoil at the suggestion. I gave her a naughty smile and teased the tip of my finger into her body, as I pushed it inside of her and felt her tight walls surround it I flicked my thumb over her clitoris again. Soon, my finger was in her nectar; I pulled it out and showed her the wetness on it.

“My, my,” I teased with a smile. “I guess you’re pretty turned on aren’t you.” With that, I opened my mouth and, showing off a little, licked her wetness off my finger then sucked it into my mouth.

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

Monday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meredith.”

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

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

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

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

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