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

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?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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.”

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

Divorced mom of 2 (part 8)

My name is Chloe; I’m a divorced mom of two, 35, from Dublin. I’m 5’7, a natural redhead with green eyes and a curvaceous body (36dd). I have recently started meeting women for sex and have been with a few so far. I recently attended a sex party with a woman called Amara, whom I was recently with. On the night of the party, I was with several different women and not only had sex with them but got on well with them. I had agreed to attend a girl’s night at their place for more fun and games. One of the women, Marilyn, in particular, took my fancy. She was single, a lesbian, and taller than me with short blond hair 34c cup breasts and very attractive. I got a WhatsApp from her the following day and over the next few days; we messaged each other a few times each day.

Mostly small talk, but I got the distinct impression that she was interested in me. She wanted to know if I would like to meet for lunch someday that week. I told her that I was working from home this week and she could call round to the house. I could prepare something for us. She agreed so I sent her my address and she was due to call around on Thursday at 12.30 pm. As I was working from home, I just wore casual comfy clothing, jogging pants, sneakers and a t-shirt. I just prepped a light lunch of toasted sandwiches with chips and salad. Marilyn arrived in her Saab straight from the gym, where she would go for a workout on her days off. I suppose being a Garda (police) Sergeant she would have to be in good shape. I heard a knock at my front door while I was in the kitchen. When I went to answer it she was standing in her leggings, sneakers and a hoodie with a small bunch of flowers.

“Oh, thank you, they are beautiful. Come on through to the kitchen and I’ll put them in some water,” I said slightly blushing.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman,” Marilyn said smiling.

“Charmer,” I said putting them in a vase and putting it on the table.

“I try,” she said.

“Thank you, they are lovely. I can’t remember when someone last bought me flowers. It was very thoughtful. So I am making us a light lunch, toasties, chips and salad. I hope that’s OK?” I said to her.

“That’s perfect, but I don’t want you to go to all that trouble, “she said.

“It’s no trouble at all and I’m hungry as I haven’t eaten today as I have been busy with getting the kids out to school and getting my work done. I was supposed to have a Zoom meeting later but it has been cancelled so I’m not under any pressure. I had arranged for my father to collect the kids from school for me. So I can relax and enjoy my lunch and your charming company”, I said laughing.

“So I have you all to myself, no one to disturb us,” she said putting her arms around me.

“Easy Tiger, if you want to eat you’ll have to let me be, “I said smiling.

“I have been so looking forward to seeing you and you’re rejecting me. I mean I did bring you flowers,” Marilyn said sarcastically, while still holding me.

“Do you think I give myself to everyone who buys me flowers? You must think I’m a slut,” I said looking up at her.

“You mean, I don’t even get a kiss,” she said smiling.

“OK, a kiss then,” I said smirking.

“Good,” Marilyn said moving in for a kiss.

Just before our lips met, I decided to lick her nose and break free. Marilyn was stunned, while I fell around laughing at her shocked look.

“You should see the look on your face, “I said laughing hard.

“You’re a diyarbakır escort cruel woman, a tease,” she said smiling.

“Come take your reward, “I said opening my arms.

Marilyn walked over to me wrapping her arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss. We kissed for a few moments and when we stopped I looked up at her smiling.

“So you think I’m beautiful”.

“Yes…Yes, I do,” she said.

“Good to know,” I said smiling and kissing her again.

When we broke the kiss this time I noticed that her hair was still a bit wet, probably from the shower at the gym.

“Your hair is still wet; come on, I’ll show you where the hair dryer is so you can dry it. Don’t want you to catch a chill, do we? Follow me,” I said.

“Yes, I was rushing a bit, didn’t want to be late for lunch,” Marilyn said while following me up the stairs.

We went to my bedroom, to get the hairdryer. When we got there Marilyn sat on my bed while I went to my dresser to get it. Marilyn removed her hoodie and was sitting only in a sports bra. I plugged in the hair dryer next to my dressing table.

“So this is where you make all the magic happen,” she said grinning.

“Magic, there hasn’t been much magic here, except the solo kind,” I said laughing.

“All the time spent alone, you could have called me, I would have lent you a helping hand or finger. Fingers,” she said giggling.

“My god, I didn’t know you were a part-time comedian,” I replied pouting.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, a cop, black belt, horny lesbian and part-time comedian”.

“Oh I gathered all that, those are fairly obvious” I replied.

“So did you enjoy the party,” she asked.

“I did, it was an eye-opener but fun,” I said sitting on the bed.

“So are you bisexual or a lesbian?” she asked.

“I’m a lesbian, one hundred percent. No turning back. I’ve been infected with the lesbian virus. Now it could be a side effect of the covid-19 vaccine,” I said smiling.

“I’m not the only one who thinks they are a comedian,” she said.

“No, I’m gay. I’m a lesbian and I have accepted it, still getting comfortable with it and enjoying it,” I said.

“So the next thing is, are you and Amara exclusive or not?” she asked.

“No. We aren’t exclusive, probably good friends, maybe fuck buddies, why? ” I said laughing.

“Well if I’m being honest I would like to get to know you better, maybe go out on a date. I know you are still finding your feet and should take your time, play the field and have fun but I think you are beautiful, have a hot body and are genuine. So I would like to get to spend more time with you,” she said.

“I think I’d like that a lot,” I said smiling.

“Well you will be coming to my place on Saturday, so maybe we could go out some night next week, dinner, a movie or go to a club. Whatever you fancy, no pressure”.

“What about the get-together at your place, will you have a problem with me having sex with the others,” I asked.

“No, we are not a couple and even if we were, it’s good to have fun, so no problem from me. Anyway as it’s at my place I’ll rig it to spend more time with you and introduce you to my strap-on,” she said laughing.

“I don’t think the others will be too impressed, “I said.

“I’ve already told Tara and Danielle, they’re cool with it. Danielle has her eye on Amara, Tara can hook up with one of the other girls there,” she said.

“So do I get a say in this”.

Just edirne escort then she pulled me down onto the bed.

“No, now I think I will need another reward, as I’ve put a lot of thought into this,” she said while lying next to me.

“I guess that can be arranged,” I said.

Marilyn started to kiss me. Her fingers tickled their way up my arm, over my collarbone and down to cup my breast.

“I thought your reward was a kiss, who said anything about coping a feel,” I said.

“You can’t fault a girl for trying. I mean you’re beautiful, with a sexy body and tits to die for,” she said playfully.

“Am I now?”

“And I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since our first meeting,” she said.

She moved closer, kissing me gently on the lips and my neck, working her way up from the nook of my shoulder up to my earlobe, while her hand softly gripped my breast. She just continued to caress it while kissing my neck or sucking on my earlobe. She knew exactly what she was doing, taking her time, not rushing her sweet gentle caresses.

“If you want me to stop, I will” she whispered in my ear.

“I must admit, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again,” I moaned.

“Good”.

She continued to kiss me while we lay on the bed continuing to cup and feel my breast. Marilyn moved her hand up under my t-shirt, so she could get at my breasts with her right hand and slide her hand under my bra and feel my breasts. We lay on the bed kissing while she was rubbing my breasts. She stopped kissing me and stood up to remove her clothes.

“I think lunch will have to wait, don’t you,” she said while undressing.

“I guess so,” I said smiling.

I got up and removed my clothing before getting into bed. Marilyn climbed in next to me.

“You are so beautiful.”

Her lips met mine; my heart was racing as I felt her tongue prying its way into my mouth, our tongues tenderly touching one another. Her lips were so soft and her kisses soon moved from my lips to my cheeks, chin, neck, and then my chest. She started to lick and tease the top of my nipples with her tongue. Then she sucked on my breasts while I leaned back enjoying the pleasure.

“Oh god, that feels great”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” she said.

“Please, don’t stop,” I whimpered.

“I have no intention of stopping, my little slut,” she said.

Marilyn moved one hand to my pussy and put her finger inside me. With a gentle push, she fingered me, at first with one finger, then two, and within a short while, was pumping my pussy with deep strokes. We were supposed to be having lunch, but in a few short moments here I am letting her fuck me hard with her fingers. She continued with her fingers pushed deep inside me, slamming them in with each thrust. When I orgasmed, the juices flowed from her pussy. My body felt weak and I collapsed onto Marilyn holding her. When I returned to my senses, she kissed me.

“How do you feel now?” she asked me.

“Great, just great,” I answered.

“Well you did invite me over for something to eat, so I think it’s time for me to eat this sexy little asshole. Get on your hands and knees,” Marilyn ordered.

I did as I was asked. Marilyn came up behind me, to caress my juicy butt, spreading the cheeks so she could see all of my asshole and my pussy from behind. She couldn’t resist putting her face between my buttocks and licking her tongue between my cheeks. I gasped and savoured edirne escort bayan the feel of the woman’s tongue on this sensitive area that rarely gets any attention. Marilyn slipped a finger into my pussy while continuing to tease me with gentle little flicks of her moist tongue.

“Now, get on your back”, Marilyn ordered. She ran her tongue between my labia, slowly licking it up and down as I quietly moaned. She dribbled a bit of salvia on my pussy, rubbing it in with her fingers before sliding them inside my vagina and resuming licking my aroused pussy. Whilst she was orally pleasuring me, she continued to pump her fingers back and forth inside my vagina. With her free hand, she reached up to grope one of my breasts, massaging and squeezing the soft flesh. Marilyn continued to do this, bringing me to climax once again, forcing me to cry out as I orgasmed. She then stuck her fingers in my mouth.

“Taste yourself?” she said.

“That was great, thank you,” I replied.

“Oh, you will be now, I want my ass pleasured,” she said, getting on her hands and knees.

I knelt behind Marilyn enjoying the sight of her ass. She pulled apart her cheeks to reveal her little asshole. I pushed my face between her butt cheeks and licked my tongue up and down her ass, then focused on her asshole. She groaned as I flicked my tongue over the tight opening. I continued to lick and probe her anus with the tip of my tongue. Marilyn must have liked this, as she was moaning from the feel of my wet tongue on her asshole.

“Ok, slut, time to eat my pussy. Get on your back again.”

This time Marilyn mounted me, lowering her wet pussy down onto my face. I manoeuvred my head slightly so I could access her slit with my tongue as she slowly ground her pussy in my mouth. The more she became aroused, the more force she used to grind on top of me, to feel my tongue inside her more deeply. I could feel she was getting nearer to climaxing as she held my hair, tried to open her legs more and drive her pussy down on my face. The next thing I knew she was screaming as she came, with her juices flowing over my face. She rolled off me and lay panting on the bed next to me. I just lay there too in silence. I was exhausted, too tired to even wipe her juices from my face. She leaned up on her elbow, looking at me.

“You have a face full of my pussy juice glistening on you. It’s a very sexy sight,” she said, laughing.

“I’m sure”, I replied sarcastically.

“Now I can eat. I had a workout this morning and bedded a sexy mom. I’ve worked up quite an appetite. It’s been a great day,” she said laughing.

“Bedded a sexy mom,” I said.

She just smiled at me and gave me a deep, passionate kiss before we went to the bathroom to clean up. When we went downstairs, I started to heat the fryer for the chips while Marilyn set up the table.

“Chloe, I meant what I said earlier. I’ve been thinking about you a lot and would like to get to know you better. So first things first, I know you are new to this lifestyle and you’re not out yet. Also, I know you have been married and might like to take some time to have fun and play the field a bit, but I would like to see more of you when you are ready to go out on a date, to dinner or dancing. If you’re open to that,” she asked.

“I’d like that very much,” I said.

Are you coming to our get-together on Saturday night?” she asked.

“I am, the kids are going to spend the night at their grandparents, so I’m free “I replied.

“Good, well it’s at my apartment this week so why don’t you bring an overnight bag, change of clothes, stay the night and we could have breakfast the next morning.”

I walked over to her putting my arms around her and gripping her ass.

“So you can work up another appetite again,” I said smiling.

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

Dear reader,

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

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

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

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

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

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

NightAelf

*******

Orientation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When I did, he jumped a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it always like this?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He watched me, holding his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerald sighed. “She’ll be up soon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerald and I, of course, thought about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mandy was at first unsure how she and Alice would get along after the intimate moment they shared, but her worries turned out to be unfounded. It was as if the two women helped each other through a joint problem — in this case, the problem of finding sexual release — and could now really count on each other. In the days that followed, Alice and Many texted daily and actually met to lounge around at the building pool.

Their conversations were more intimate as well. Although the two women still focused mainly on the everyday topics they had always chatted about, they also sometimes sprinkled in sexual matters.

Alice seemed to see Mandy as a valuable confidant for sharing her journey of sexual self-empowerment. Alice and her husband’s martial sex had never been better, and the voluptuous woman was on a mission: She was going to use her God-given endowments and her newfound confidence to take the physical side of her marriage to the next level. More concretely, her immediate goal was making her husband blow his load on her tits. Mandy would have considered the whole situation comical if it wasn’t for Alice’s mild embarrassment that she hadn’t done so already.

“I should be able to do this…” Alice would chide herself in her conversations with Mandy.

In contrast to Alice, Mandy didn’t have anything current to share when it came to sexual topics. She had no boyfriend and no prospects. Her contributions were limited to words of encouragement for Alice and humorous outcries about the misery of her own lonesome situation.

Such was the case about a couple of weeks after the intimate mutual climax at Alice’s apartment. On a sunny afternoon, Mandy was lounging by the building pool. The athletic woman got up off her pool chair and stretched her arms, soaking in the sun. She was wearing blue running shorts, a pink short-sleeve baselayer, and flip-flops. As she relaxed back in her seat she noticed none other than Casper arrive at the pool. This time, however, he had a date.

Mandy immediately went into surveillance mode. She was wearing dark shades, so she was reasonably sure neither Casper nor his date would be able to spot her looking on. To be on the safe side, she picked up a magazine she had brought with her and pretended to read through it.

He was wearing a white t-shirt, beige khakis, and sneakers, demonstrating his spaghetti thin body. But the first thing she noticed about Casper’s date was what she lacked — tits! After eavesdropping on Casper’s deepest fantasies from across the wall in the laundry room, she was taken aback that he would not go for a busty girl. Instead, his date was a nice looking but flat-chested redhead.

The two of them had a conversation for a few minutes. Casper seemed engaged. Mandy was really surprised. After all the commotion about tits, this is the girl he chose to date? She felt like she knew what got this guy off, and this redhead, nice as she seemed, wasn’t it. She was dumbfounded.

After a few minutes the redhead got up to leave. She let Casper give her a peck on the cheek. Nice, but not spectacular, Mandy thought.

Casper stayed behind to close up his bag and then turned to leave the pool as well. Mandy noticed that on his path out he was going to walk by her lounge chair.

Curiosity was killing her. Here was a guy who unwittingly instigated one of the most erotic experiences she’s ever had with anyone by loudly orgasming to a fantasy of Alice’s huge breasts, and now he’s dating a woman who has no chest to speak of?

She needed to investigate. But how to get his attention? She acted quickly.

As Casper passed by Mandy suddenly got up from her chair, colliding into him.

They rocked back and forth a bit, until Casper held on to Mandy to make sure she didn’t fall.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you! I’m such a klutz!” Mandy said, as Casper let her go.

“That’s okay,” he replied.

“Hey, you’re Casper, right? I bet you don’t remember when we first met.”

“Yup, that’s me — and I do remember! We met as little kids when we did activities at the Y.”

‘The Y’ was the local YMCA where many of the building’s kids did extra-curricular activies. Mandy was surprised that Casper remembered their joint time there many years ago, because they did not exchange a word. In fact, she was surprised she remembered their time together at the Y.

“Good memory!” Mandy exclaimed. They exchanged a few pleasantries, politely asking how things were going and acknowledging that everything was going well.

“I hope I’m not making you late for your date — seemed like you two hit it off,” Mandy said, referring to the redhead. She was being direct, which was risky. But she wanted some answers.

“Oh, that’s okay, she was just leaving for home” Casper said, somewhat quietly.

“She seems like a nice person, and really very attractive.” Kind of direct, again. At some point Mandy feared that this line of conversation would start feeling weird for Casper.

“She is, thanks, ah…I guess, yeah, she’s attractive.” hatay escort Yup, starting to get weird. Casper didn’t quite know how to respond. He seemed uncomfortable. He was preparing to open his mouth again, dangerously close to excusing himself.

Mandy needed to know more, and this boy was clamming up.

“Oh, don’t be shy, I know an attractive woman when I see one…” she then leaned closer to Casper and uttered a sentence that surprised herself as much as it shocked Casper:

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m a lesbian.”

This was absolutely crazy, and very much untrue. Mandy was very attracted to men, and especially so in her current deprived state. She liked her men athletic, muscular, and well-hung. At her current lonesomeness, even Casper was starting to look attractive, even though he lacked the first two of those three qualities. His girth, of course, she had no direct knowledge about.

“Oh..oh!” Casper was at a loss for words. Understandably so, Mandy thought. So she helped him it out, telling him that as a lesbian he could completely confide in her because she was an experienced surveyor of women and she could give him her unbiased opinions without any self-interest or pretense. After all, she and he did not travel in the same circles, romantically speaking. Or something. Mandy was winging it.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Casper was beginning to loosen up a bit. Like all men (Mandy thought), he was intrigued by the mere mention of lesbianism. She also guessed that her being so forward about it was a little bit arousing for him. Nothing like physical arousal to help an awkward man overcome his discomfort and start talking. As the conversation continued, the two sat down at adjoining lounge chairs by the pool.

Then she lowered the next boom, continuing their conversation about what’s attractive about women. She framed it as an example of her providing a valuably unbiased opinion.

“Let me give you an example of someone who I think is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, just a perfect body, perfect everything.”

Casper was eager to hear. As a benchmark for unbiased evaluations, of course.

“You know Alice Clark from the 11th floor?”

Mandy paused a moment to gauge Casper’s reaction. As if she needed to. His whole body seemed to stand at attention at the mention of Alice’s name. She wondered if he was getting a hard-on by the mere mention of Alice’s name. She couldn’t really look right now but she had an inkling that coupled with her lesbian aura, there was a good chance he was sporting a woody.

“Well, she is just beautiful. I love her toned body, her hair, just her whole being…”

“Yeah…” Casper said, seeming to try to think of something to say.

Mandy was not going to stop now. She leaned closer to Casper, and whispered, “I’ve been hanging out with her quite a bit this summer and let me tell you, that rack, I mean give me a break…some girls get all the luck.”

Casper practically gulped at those words, and Mandy couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Worried that this might scare Casper off, she quickly patted him on the back in the chummiest way she knew how and said, “but hey, it depends what you prefer. Some people are all about the boobs, but judging by your date you seem to like them smaller.”

The suggestion that Casper wasn’t a boob-man shocked the young man to the core. He could not let such a blatantly false statement stand. He played right into Mandy’s provocation. “No! I actually AM a boob-man…” he quickly said, and immediately regretted it. Mandy almost erupted in laughter again. The poor guy. If he could make a hole in the ground open up and eat him up right now, he would.

“Oh that’s surprising, I thought…” Mandy made sure to put on her most dumbfounded face. “Oh ok.”

“Yeah, no, I mean…” Casper tried, looking downright embarrassed.

“That’s okay, no need to explain, I just assumed…” Mandy continued egging him on to admit he was a boob-man.

“No, no, I…well, I guess I agree with you about Alice, uh, Mrs. Clark. But you know, I sometimes date women who look a little different, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see, got it.” Mandy said, even though that made no sense at all. Was this man scared to date women he’s actually attracted to?

“Well nice seeing you — you’re here for the summer?” Mandy said, ending the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m around for a few more weeks before I have to go back to college,” Casper said. Gratefully.

“Cool, maybe I’ll see you around,” Mandy concluded and threw a bone: “I try to come out here to the pool after my run every morning.”

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

“You told him WHAT??”

Alice was literally rolling on her couch laughing when she heard about Mandy’s conversation with Casper when Mandy stopped by that evening.

“Well…I know it’s an absolute lie, but hey, we need some intel,” Mandy defended herself, sitting on the adjacent armchair, which has become her regular place in Alice’s living room.

“INTEL? ığdır escort What does that mean?” Alice quizzed, still coming down from her fit of laugher.

“I figured you and I both are very interested in Casper. I mean, he practically INSPIRED you!”

The two erupted into laughter again, before Mandy continued: “And I’m just surprised that he would go out with someone like that, given that you and I both know what he likes!” Mandy said, cupping both of her hands under her B-cup breasts but moving them farther away from them to signal a much heavier set.

“The girls!” Alice joyfully said, cupping her own boobs in response. In contrast to Mandy, her hands were quite full cupping the lower sides of her breasts.

Mandy noted how sexy her older friend was, wearing a simple orange tank top over a white bra. Alice’s thin hands and taut tummy contrasted very nicely with her very full chest.

“So, we must investigate,” Mandy said with mock decisiveness. “I feel like men trust lesbians more than regular women when it comes to discussing sexual matters.”

“I can see that,” Alice replied. “I wouldn’t have come up with that myself in a million years, but now that you mention it, it seems kind of reasonable — I guess.”

“Well, it was a trial balloon. We’ll see what happens,” Mandy said.

“Uh-huh,” Alice concluded.

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

Despite, and perhaps because, of Mandy’s impossibly direct demeanor, Casper did show up to the pool one morning a few days later. Mandy had finished a run and was lounging wearing her black shades and her regular running attire: black shorts and a blue baselayer. Casper was in his usual khakis and t-shirt. The two sat on pool chairs adjacent to each and chatted on mundane topics. After a while, Mandy excused herself to reply to a text. But instead of replying, she initiated one, to Alice:

Chatting with our friendly ghost, why don’t you pay us a visit?

As usual, Alice didn’t disappoint, responding quickly that she was on her way back from the grocery store and would stop by the pool.

A few minutes later, Alice sauntered in with her trademark casualness. She was wearing jeans and a buttoned checkered blouse that did not show any cleavage but did hint at her fulsome bosom by the indentations in the fabric. She hugged Mandy, warmly discussing her day and inquiring about theirs. The conversation was impossibly awkward given all the undercurrents among the three people, but Alice had a way of getting people around her to act naturally. She automatically slipped into the ‘kind neighbor’ role and proceeded from there. After a couple of minutes, she turned to leave, warmly promising to see Mandy later, without saying anything to Casper.

Mandy and Casper reclined back in their respective chairs, and sat in silence for a moment.

“She’s such a great gal,” Mandy started.

Casper nodded.

“Although I can’t believe how sexy she is.” This got a chuckle from the younger man.

“Does she know you’re…” he tried.

“Lesbian? No she doesn’t. Good thing, too. I am definitely into her body type. She is one blessed woman.” Mandy said, hoping Casper will take the bait.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he responded, letting down his guard. “Like, I don’t know how she’s not a model or something.” The statement was completely plausible, even though Alice was probably in her mid 40’s and has had two kids who were only a little younger than Casper.

“Definitely,” Mandy said, encouraged by Casper’s frankness. “I was in a relationship with a woman with her body type, although she was not as big,” Mandy said, lying through her teeth. “That made me decide that that’s the body type I like in a girl.”

“How…how was it?” Casper asked.

“The physical aspect was out of this world, but after a while I realized that personality matters too and she was nasty.” Mandy was trying to switch the subject to Casper’s opinions rather than talk about the busty ex-girlfriend she never had.

“But I bet men find breasts attractive for other reasons compared to women,” Mandy mused trying to pique Casper’s interest.

“What do you mean?” Casper asked.

“Well, for example, when I think about a sexy woman with big boobs, I think about holding her and feeling her breasts on top of mine. That’s a real turn-on for me. Do men think the same way?”

Mandy was really reeling him in now, insinuating an image of herself hugging Alice, with the older woman’s sizable breasts smashed unto her athletic frame. Mandy had to admit that it was an image she herself didn’t mind thinking about.

“Gah, um…no.” Casper said and they both laughed.

Silence ensued, before Mandy prodded again, “well what is it then that men think about?”

“We’d do more than hugging,” Casper chuckled, “probably more…um, sexual things.”

“Like what? Come on, I’m curious. I shared one of my fantasies…” Mandy pleaded.

“Well, men have a fantasy of women using their breasts to, you know…please them.”

“You ısparta escort mean, tit-fucking.”

“Yeah.”

The two laughed again.

“Okay, that makes sense. I mean is that it — just wrap your tits around a cock and make a guy cum?” Mandy asked.

“Well, it’s more than that. Like, for example, if a woman’s got heavy breasts, a guy would probably want to feel them rubbing slowly on his, you know, cock. Guys also like to watch a woman play with her tits and sort of be seductive.”

Mandy was clearly getting somewhere, noting how Casper was willing to say the words “tits” and “cock.”

“How about cumming on tits, is that a fantasy?”

“Oh heck yeah,” Casper replied.

“Have you, you know, done that?”

Casper didn’t respond, but it was clear that the answer was negative.

“Well, we have to set you up with someone who can fit your body type, my friend. I mean, your date was nice and all, but you have to true to yourself and your desires,” Mandy said.

Casper nodded in agreement. “It’s a little scary asking a girl like that, you know. Somehow the stakes are higher.”

“Of course they are, because you actually WANT her to go out with you and you’re afraid she’d say no. I also have the same problem when I’m interested in someone who is busty.” Mandy was again lying about her lesbian orientation, and given Casper’s honesty she was starting to feel bad about it. But his revelations were too interesting.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, I hope one day to get the courage.”

“I hope you do too,” Mandy said, encouragingly. “I hope you get to do everything you want with a woman like Alice Clark.”

“Fuck, she’s so hot,” Casper said, longingly.

“What would you want to do with her, you know, in your wildest dreams?” Mandy asked.

“I would love to just sit down as she kneels down on the floor next to me and rubs those big tits all over my cock.”

“And then?”

“She’d put my cock between her tits and start fucking me with them top to bottom.”

“Yeah, that’s more like it,” Mandy was starting to get a little bit hot herself. “Would you want her to do it slow or fast?”

“Slow, definitely slow. I’d probably grab her shoulders and push her up and down on my cock a little, but I’d really try to make it last. I wouldn’t want to cum too soon.”

“How would you want to cum?”

“I’d tell her when and then she’s grab my cock and pull it out from between her tits, and then use it to spray both of them.”

“Niiiiice…” Mandy said, trying to sound like a bro, but her voice cracked and betrayed her arousal.

She noticed that Casper was showing a nice bulge under his khakis. It actually seemed like he wasn’t a slouch in the girth department.

“I mean, I usually cum enough that I could probably cover her tits or most of them. I usually wouldn’t be talking about these kinds of things to a woman, but since you’re a lesbian you probably wouldn’t be offended.”

Now it was Mandy’s turn to gulp. Alice’s tits were downright huge. In her own sexual experience with men, she had never seen a guy cum so much to be able to cover tits that huge.

“Then after I cum, she’d rub my cock slowly on her tits, it’d be mindblowing,” Casper continued, unperturbed.

“They’d be slippery, covered in cum,” Mandy continued trying to egg him on.

But Casper’s mind was drifting elsewhere. “Yeah…” Casper said, absentmindedly. “Well, I’d better be going.”

Casper walked away with peculiarly intense speed. Mandy could get guess what she’d hear if she went to the building laundry room again. Instead, though, she went up to Alice’s apartment on the 11th floor.

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

“Mandy! Come in!” Alice said, surprised to see her friend visit unannounced. Alice was barefoot. She was still wearing the blue jeans she had worn in her quick visit to the pool a few minutes before, but had taken off her buttoned shirt. She had on a red V-neck short-sleeve orange tank top that accentuated her large chest. Underneath, she had a thin bra that barely covered her nipples, displaying a sexy cleavage and hint of her fabric-clad nipples.

“You know, Robbie will be here any minute, and…well I’ve been working on him all day to take the afternoon off from work, texting him about how I’m waiting for him and how he’ll have the time of his life.”

“Ah, I see…” Mandy said, knowingly. “Well, I won’t be long. You have to hear this…”

The two women sat down on the couch and Mandy relayed every one of Casper’s fantasies. All of them were etched in her mind. Him lying down on his back. Alice slowly rubbing her tits on his lower body. Then cradling his cock between her tits. Then slowly tit-fucking his cock. Then extricating his cock so that he could cum all over her tits. Then Alice rubbing her cum-covered tits slowly on Casper’s spent cock. It was making her hot talking about it.

Alice, on her part, was already revved up for her husband’s early return, and now was glued to Mandy’s every word. When Mandy finished, Alice didn’t respond. She simply looked down at her sizable chest and cupped her tits lightly, apparently imagining the possibilities.

Then, the two women heard the sound of the doorknob opening.

The women felt a brief moment of terror, as if they were engaged in illicit behavior.

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

Once more, I was mesmerized.

This couldn’t keep happening. I was a professional with a reputation to uphold, a dance studio to maintain, and a sacred vow of marriage to think about. Not that Michael would have minded one bit, I knew — we had long since come to an unspoken agreement to look the other way when it came to the little peccadilloes that dot every marriage, so even if he did by some fluke take it into his head to mind, I had a laundry list of names that he had stepped out with ready to go.

But it wasn’t Michael or his various flings that were occupying my mind at the moment. What was making my eyes lose focus and my tempo-setting movements turn mechanical and my wellspring of crisply spoken, sharply phrased criticisms and (less occasionally) praise dry up in my mouth was the beautifully rounded posterior of a teenage girl.

Not just any teenage girl: Nicole had been a ray of light since the moment she stepped into my studio, laughing apologies for being so old (she was eighteen) and out of shape (she was nearly three hundred pounds, although she carried it well on a six-foot frame; all thigh and breast meat, as Michael would have said with a vulgar laugh). I had pointed out in my most excruciatingly polite manner that Madame De Guilles’ studio catered to a rather different clientele, namely younger women who were seriously pursuing dance as a vocation, and hinted that a Zumba or even a Pilates class was what she wanted. But she had just smiled that huge disarming smile that made her eyes almost disappear into twinkling little slits and nodded, her light brown-frosted curls bouncing along, and said,

“No, that’s perfect. I’m going to be on Broadway.”

Not with that figure you’re not, were the words that sprang automatically to mind, though I refrained from saying them out loud. But despite myself I had agreed to take her money; she happily paid in advance, and agreed to sit in on the beginner’s class to start with, until I judged that she was capable of tackling the more advanced levels.

Perhaps I should have been firmer; after all, nothing good ever comes of encouraging delusion, even if it can turn a pretty profit while it lasts. But I didn’t have the heart to turn that winning smile away; and when she showed up for practice the following week, towering over the tiny eight-, ten- and twelve-year-olds who stared at her with awed, mystified eyes, I found another reason to want to keep her in the studio.

I had always had a weakness for large, shapely women — in the years before the agreement, Michael and I had even shared a few, before he started hunting his own game — and compressed into her leotard Nicole was perhaps the shapeliest I’d ever seen. Her buttocks were massive and perfectly round; not in the obtrusive way that declares a Brazilian surgeon’s work, but in that natural taut teenage way, when gravity hasn’t yet done its years of dirty work. Her thighs were deliciously meaty — either one of them was thicker than the torso of just about every other girl in the class — but her waist, wrists, and ankles were still trim. Her breasts were far too large for the ideal dancer’s figure, but not so large that they were in proportion to her magnificent ass; but anyway, she wore an athletic bra under the leotard and kept them in check, unlike her gloriously jiggly gluteus.

And she could move. Not, indeed, that she had anything like professional training, but she had a natural grace that belied her weight, and a talent for picking up the faintest hint of motion and copying it almost exactly. She came from a dancing family, she explained — “Mamma and Daddy were on Soul Train back in the day” — and had been a cheerleader before being discovered by the theater program at her high school.

There was no denying that she was a magnetic performer — that smile alone! — and I found myself more than once envying the high school students who were getting to watch her run riot in rehearsals for the school play, as I learned from her after-class chatter. I wondered if any of the teachers sat in the back rows of the auditorium watching her and wanting to touch themselves, like I did.

“Lucienne De Guille,” I told myself severely, once everyone had been picked up and carted off and the studio was empty and only needed locking up, “You are an old fool. Mooning over that child a third of your age—-” this wasn’t quite true, I was only forty-eight, and as taut and slender as I had ever been, thanks to a lifetime of discipline through dance—- “when you have a perfectly good husband waiting for you at home.” Even that was too much for my self-critical mood, however: by no stretch of the imagination could Michael be considered to be waiting around for me, although of course he would be very happy to see me.

In fact our lovemaking that night must have had a stronger spark than usual, because in the afterglow he said,

“Getting frisky out there, are you? Anyone I know?”

“Oh, shut up, Michael,” I said, and put eskişehir escort on my sleep mask. “You seem to think I’m as randy as you are.”

“Not usually,” he admitted. “But tonight….” he trailed off, and then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. His mustache bristled on my newly moisturized skin. “I wish you good hunting, Luci,” he murmured in my ear.

And now here I was, some weeks later. I certainly could not have been said to be hunting Nicole, as I never initiated conversation outside of classroom instruction, but my eyes followed her every movement and the mothers of some of the younger girls had begun to hint that I wasn’t paying them enough attention. So I had moved Nicole up to an intermediate contemporary class, trusting that her quick study and natural charm would brave her through not knowing the drills that the thirteen- and fourteen-year old girls knew by heart. And she had proved my trust correct: although the first class was the first time I ever saw her smile slip as she studied the movements of her classmates furiously, she had picked up the majority of the routine by the end of class, and performed it almost flawlessly the following week.

Almost flawlessly: because there was one issue with Nicole’s performance, one that I had been dreading having to bring up with her ever since she had mentioned her parents being on Soul Train. Her timing was off.

You mustn’t imagine that this was about race. As it happens, my New Orleans Creole ancestors had left me with a darker complexion than Nicole, whose tawny skin glistened so delectably when she worked up a sweat in class. Nor was it about respectability politics: vernacular dance had been one of the great joys of my youth, when Michael and I were regulars at house-music clubs, and I understood why Nicole dragged slightly behind the beat or rushed it: she was just adding a funky accent to the dance. But professional dancers were expected to keep strict time.

I suppose I could have gone about it in a better way. The truth is that I was so disturbed by how much I felt myself craving her — I would lose whole seconds to fantasizing about licking up the sweat as it trickled down her thighs, and I was devoutly thankful that my invariable uniform of black was least likely to give away how drenched my nethers became after an hour of watching her — that I felt I had to make an example of her, if only to myself.

“Nicole,” I snapped, “you’re off rhythm.” I snapped my fingers in perfect time with the music as it played. Her buttocks jiggled to a stop as she turned to look at me in astonishment, “Try again,” I directed, and restarted the track.

She went into the movements again, but I cut her off again. The other girls started to frown, aware that they had made mistakes too, and wondering why I wasn’t calling them out.

I walked up to Nicole, still snapping the rhythm with my fingers. “You — need — to — dance — in — strict — time,” I said, measuring each word to the rhythm. “You’re not another instrumentalist playing off the others, you’re a vehicle for the choreography to express itself. And the choreography is timed — to — the — rhythm.”

I smacked my hand against my thigh to pound out the rhythm. I was next to her now, looking at her as she attempted to keep time to my metronomic beat, but I cut her off every time she missed.

“Again,” I said, and,

“Again.”

The smile disappeared entirely in a frown of concentration. She tensed, flung her body at the rhythm, and held it for only a few moments before slipping back into a funky counterpoint.

“Again,” I said, but she reached out and grabbed my hand before I could smack my thigh.

“Hit me instead,” she said.

I was startled, and found myself realizing that the other girls in the room were standing around us and watching curiously.

“What?” I said, trying and failing to throw hauteur into it.

“To keep time,” she said. “The physical reminder will help. Not on your thigh. On my butt.”

I stared at her, and licked my lips. She gave me that winning smile, her eyes glittering through crescent slits, and shrugged.

“Or my shoulder, whatever,” she said.

And for the next ten minutes I swatted my hand rhythmically against her warm, soft upper arm as she practiced the routine again and again. She was improving: apparently the physical contact really was helping.

But after those ten minutes I decided I had spent too much time on one student, and shooed the others back to their positions, and made up for my neglect by criticizing them harshly enough that several of them went home blinking back tears.

Nicole was the last one left in the class, scrolling idly on her phone, as I finished putting away all of the towels and water bottles and turned off half of the lights as a warning.

She looked up, and saw me looking at her, and smiled.

She moved toward me. I was on the way to the door, but she wasn’t looking at the gaziantep escort door. I felt my mouth suddenly dry.

“I wanted to thank you, Ms. De Guilles,” she said, with that rapturous smile again. “I know it was a weird thing to ask, but I always learn so much better through touch, and it was nice of you to put your hand on me.”

She paused, as though expecting me to say something. My eyes were full of her breasts — she was so much taller than me that they were on a level with my head, and I noticed with a sharp twinge in my groin that the rounded bumps of her nipples could be made out through the bra and leotard, both of which had been soaked through with sweat.

“I’m glad it seems to be working,” was all I said, shortly, and turned toward my office. I had to get away from her, or I would do something unconscionable.

But when I turned around to close the office door behind me, I was startled to find that she was there, leaning on the door frame, regarding me thoughtfully.

“Do you need something, Nicole?” I asked, more impatiently than I felt.

She pursed her lips slightly, and let her eyes travel up and down my slender body, from my perfectly pointed feet all the way up to my deep brown head, unlined but taut, with its big black eyes and the wisps of gray beginning to curl into my short black hair. Her lips curled into a smile, but not the big bright smile: something more tantalizing, with her tongue running behind her lower lip.

“I need more help,” she said, “keeping time.”

She pushed her way through into my office now, and started to do a tight, circumscribed version of the routine in the tiny bit of space that she was able to occupy, between the file cabinet and the chairs in front of the desk. I had already backed up to the desk, but she was close enough that I could reach out and touch her. She turned around, in that moment, and backed her rear up toward me.

“Come on,” she said, looking at me over her shoulder, “keep time on my ass, Ms. Guilles.” As I hesitated, my fingers twitching at the thought of touching her again but not daring to reach out, she added, “I know you want to.”

I looked at her sharply.

“I am a married woman,” I started to say, but she only laughed.

“You’re a married woman whose pussy leaks whenever she looks at my ass,” she said, and popped her ass back with each work, twerking until she was right up on me. She began to slowly grind her ass in a lazy circle just inches from my crotch, effectively pinning me against the desk — I wouldn’t be able to move without touching her.

“Come on,” she said, and reached one hand back to slap her ass. I watched it jiggle, mesmerized.

“Now you,” she said, and heaven help me, I did.

“In strict time,” she said, resuming as much of the routine as she could without stepping away or moving her ass from directly in front of me. I smacked her ass again, and then again, in time; after a few moments, she adjusted her movements to meet my rhythm, and then time seemed to suspend, as she danced and I kept time on her ass, and we were both perfectly in sync.

I felt my breath coming more and more shallowly, and at last it was my hand that faltered before she did, losing the rhythm as I stared, hypnotized, at her bouncing, thinly-clad flesh. She whirled around, and grabbed the hand, and kissed it on the palm.

“Thank you,” she said again, looking into my eyes, and nuzzling her cheek into my hand. “I’ve been desperate to get you to touch me for weeks.”

“Oh my God,” was the only thing I had enough wit to say. She smiled brightly, and leaned in to whisper into my ear.

“I’m really good at keeping other kinds of rhythm,” she said. “Want to see?”

“Yes,” I moaned. My brain was too dazed, too overwhelmed by her nearness, to have the slightest idea what she could mean, but I would say anything that meant more prolonged contact with this divine creature.

She dropped to her knees in front of me, and catching my hands in hers, widened her brilliant smile and planted that gorgeous shining mouth directly onto the soaking crotch of my leotard. I quivered, and tried to pull away automatically, but she had my hands, and her mouth pinned me against the desk; I could have kicked her, I suppose, but I was neither that desperate nor that unwilling.

Because the pleasure that swam up in me the moment her lips touched me through the fabric could not be denied. A long, shuddering “ohhh” escaped my lips, and she sucked happily, sluicing the juices that had flooded my crotch into her mouth before applying her tongue flat against the crevice that she pressed my leotard into and licking slowly up and down.

When the tip of her tongue curled up at the end of the lick and just barely grazed my clit, I jumped and gave a little squeak; her eyes glittered wickedly, and she began to tap rhythmically on the little nubbin with the tip of her tongue, sending electric shocks shooting through me giresun escort that made my vision white out at the edges as I stared in helpless amazement at the big beautiful girl between my legs, her ass framing her curls as it poked out behind her.

“Don’t—-” I gasped. “Stop—-” I meant Don’t! Stop!, meaning that if she continued like this I would soon climax, but she took it as encouragement, and before long the choice was taken away from me, as a delicious wave of caramel-scented pleasure swept up through my body, and I squirmed helplessly beneath her tongue.

She finally pulled away, grinning happily.

“You’re so hot when you come, Ms. Guilles,” she said.

“Call me Luci,” I gasped, shakily removing my hands from her grasp, and making come-here motions as I leaned back on the desk, careless of the papers strewn over it. “I need you on my tongue. Please.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she said, and had wriggled one shoulder out of the leotard before I had finished speaking. She stripped unceremoniously, dropping both leotard and bra onto the floor of my office, and hoisted herself up onto my desk, looking down at where I lay, panting.

“I should tell you,” she said. “I’m a squirter. These papers are going to get soaked.”

“Fuck the papers,” I said hoarsely. “Give me your pussy.”

She smiled brilliantly again, and moved up, her thick knees on either side of my slim body, until her beautiful brown labia hovered over my waiting tongue.

“Can I tell you something, Ms. — Luci?” she said softly, looking down at me with shining eyes between her brown-nippled breasts. I longed to suck on those nipples, but first things first.

“Tell me,” I said, and reached out with my tongue to try to steal a taste of the pearlescent liquid I could see clinging to the lips just above me.

“I signed up for these classes hoping to get into your pants,” she said happily. “Your Sally Bowles was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.”

“You saw that?” I was startled. That production had been a decade ago, in a tiny theater in a gentrifying neighborhood. Its failure had been the primary impetus for my giving up on the stage and opening the studio to help train the next generation.

“I’ll never forget it,” she said. “You were so precise in your movements, so—-” at last, she lowered herself onto me—- “rhythmic.”

I had always loved having my face ridden by a big girl, and Nicole’s was the sweetest, most delectable peach I had ever sucked the juice from. I was in heaven while I explored her crevice with lips, tongue, and even teeth, nipping gently at her labia and noting the responses, both external (shivering, moaning, whispers of “oh God yes,” a gentle motion back and forth) and internal (more divinely slippery wetness coating my face). Once I had satisfied myself as to the dimensions and layout of the pussy before me, I began my assault.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I heard Nicole say as she arched her back in response to my coordinated attack. My arms were pinned between my body and her legs, so I was a little handicapped in what I could do, but I worked out a pattern that seemed to suffice, nodding my head back and forth so that first my nose then my upper lip then my tongue then my lower lip stroked her clit in quick succession as my chin buried itself in her pussy, then back down again so they all swiped it again. On the upstrokes I added a deep lick of the vaginal canal, on the downstrokes I bared my upper teeth and let them scrape gently against the labial folds.

She was clutching both breasts in her hands now, as if they were the only stable thing she had to hold onto as she thrashed above me, her hips gyrating but her lower half locked in place. And then gradually she began to respond to my rhythm with one of her own, pushing forward so that the pressure on her clit was even more forceful, dragging back so that her juices smeared heavily across my face. I yearned to lick them up, to not miss a drop, but I had a mission to do and I stuck to my rhythm, getting my hands underneath her ass and pitching her ever so slightly forward so that she could no longer escape me on the downstrokes.

“Shit,” she whispered, the soft folds of her belly quaking just over my head as she bent forward, propping her weight up on one hand and gently humping forward into my face. “Shit, Luci, it’s coming. It’s going to be a big one. Don’t drown.”

“Give it all to me, girl,” I said into her pussy. (That was what I meant, anyway. It was probably more like “Guhh uhh lllh uh muh ghuh” if it ever reached her ears.)

And true to her prediction, the stomach suddenly tightened, and she reared back once more, clutching her hands to her head like a silent-movie heroine as what felt like a firehose poured out of her, overwhelming my open mouth and squirting so hard against the angles of my jaw and cheek that hours later I noticed a line of spray on the window of my office, some five feet away from the desk.

I lay in a pool of her juices, licking lazily at the lips I could still reach before she collapsed backwards onto my legs, sending papers that had gotten stuck to her knees flying helter-skelter around the room.

“Jesus,” she said, when she had finally got her breath back. “If I knew you were that good I’d have jumped your bones day one.”

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 Hummingbird

[Author’s Note: I know this is a very long story. But from the moment Melanie Smith saw the hummingbird tattoo on Jo Napoli’s upper thigh in the shower in their dorm, we knew there was a backstory to it. This is that backstory. If you don’t know what I am talking about, you might want to read the Soccer Girls and Soccer Women stories first. The story itself is independent of those other stories, but I think you really ought to get to know Jo Napoli first before you read this. It’s just a suggestion].

Josephine Theresa Napoli was a second-generation Italian girl living in the suburbs of Boston, Massachusetts, USA. All four of her grandparents had been born in Italy. They were all teenagers when they moved with their families to Boston after the Second World War ended. Having a sizable Italian-American community in Boston, all four families had cousins, aunts, uncles, distant relations and close personal friends all living in the city. This meant there was work and a place to stay while the families got settled in their new homes.

The teenagers all learned English, but it remained a second language for them. For all four, Italian was the language spoke when they were home. The grandparents had lots of their own children, including Vito Napoli and Angelina Brunetti. Although born and raised in Boston, both Vito and Angelina spoke Italian at home. English was their first language, but the Old-World accent was omnipresent when you spoke to either of them.

They met, fell in love and married. Both coming from large families, they looked forward to having a big family of their own. But it just never happened. They tried everything that everyone suggested to them. They even tried something Nona Brunetti suggested that involved a full moon and Boston Common. But none if it worked. They could not afford to try some of the scientific options. Now, with both of them past thirty-five, they finally gave up, vowing to be the best uncle and aunt for their many nieces and nephews. Ten months later, Josephine Theresa Napoli was born.

They loved their miracle “bambina” as Vito and Angelina always referred to her. They gave all the love they had saved up for all the many children they were going to have and poured it all into their bambina. Vito loved four things in this world: 1) his Angelina; 2) his Bambina; 3) his family; and 4) soccer. Vito (and all his family) called it futbol, but if you said futbol in Boston people thought of the New England Patriots, the name of the American Football team from Boston.

Vito gave all his love of soccer to his daughter. Having been “DINKs” for so long – Double Income No Kids – the Napolis were able move to a nice big house with a nice big backyard in the suburbs of Boston. With plenty of room for a field and two goals at either end, Jo spent many hours with her father playing soccer. She spent a lot of time when she was by herself out on the family pitch working on her skills. Her friends would play soccer in the Napoli backyard all the time. When her friends moved on to other pursuits, Jo stayed in her backyard getting better and better.

Jo had a later birthday and based on the school district’s calendar; she was one of the older children in her school class. She was bigger than many of the other girls in her class. By thirteen, she reached the height she would be the rest of her life (5′-51/2″). At that age she was stout. She was always running and playing soccer and she was in good physical condition. With many boys just hitting puberty at that time, she was bigger than many of her male classmates, some of whom were nine or ten months younger than her.

By the time she was entering middle school, she was already a good enough player to be on the junior varsity team at the high school. The school would not allow that but Vito and Angelina knew that soccer was something Jo loved. So, they got her involved in a premier youth soccer program. This brought Jo into a whole new world. As good as she was, she was now with many other girls who were just as good or better.

This gave Jo a higher level of training and a higher level of competition. Her team would often take weekend trips all over the eastern half of the United States to play in tournaments with the best teams around the country. They played many tournaments all around the New England states in the US as well.

Two years with this program had turned Jo into a defender. At first, she did not like that. It was always more fun to score goals. But the more she did it, the more she began to appreciate the importance of good defense in a team winning soccer tournaments. When she got to high school, she was the best player on her team. She was the striker for the school team. It was still fun scoring all those goals. And the footwork she had been working on since she was five, and which had been drilled into her on her premiere team, helped Jo lead her team to a remarkably successful season with her starting kahramanmaraş escort on the varsity team as a freshman.

By the time Jo (only her parents still called her Josephine, except her friends if her mother was around. Angelina did not let anyone call her Bambina “Jo.”) finished her high school soccer career with a loss in the State Finals, she was already eighteen years old. Since she had reached her full height back in middle school, a number of people had now passed her in that measure. She had developed a large chest (she was already a 36D and she was still growing a bit in that category). She was not Sophia Loren, but she had a pleasant face. She was blessed with the olive skin typical of her Mediterranean ancestry. She had bright eyes and always seemed to be smiling. She was in all honors classes, usually getting “A”s and the occasional “B”.

Her biggest problem in her high school world was that she had always been very competitive. In gym class, she did more pull ups than most of the boys in the class. She was always the fastest to climb the rope and always got to the top. She ended up intimidating most of the boys in her class. Not that they were afraid of her, she was the nicest, sweetest girl but they couldn’t keep up with her. And while she had a lot of friends, she never had any boyfriends.

She spent a lot of time throughout her high school career with the other girls from the soccer team who never had boyfriends in her backyard playing more soccer. There was friendship and camaraderie and it made them all better soccer players. This was part of why they were in the State Finals her senior year.

When she would speak to her mother about this, Angelina always tried to tell her that she should not worry about it. “Some day, Bambina. Some day someone will come along and sweep you away and you will be in love with them forever. Just like your Papa and me. You have a lot of your life left. So much is going to happen you have no idea yet. Just keep doing what you are doing and it will all work out as it should.”

Jo had led the team to two straight District Titles. That was unusual for such a small school. However, even though they lost, just getting to the State Finals made history, as no team had ever got that far in school history. They decided to have an assembly in the gymnasium to celebrate this momentous occasion. To give you an idea of how big this was, the cheerleaders were there and it wasn’t even a football game.

It was a rousing time, but Jo was the star of the show. They introduced the team and each player came out on the stage. Jo was the last one to be announced. Before she came out they went over all her accolades: Varsity starter all four years; team captain for three years; District Girls’ Soccer MVP four years; Sportswomen of the Year her sophomore year (she would win it that year as well, but they did not know that yet); and the Golden Boot award winner for the most goals in the State Tournament that year. When she came out on the stage, the crowd erupted in applause, the cheerleaders cheered and all her teammates gathered around her, congratulating her and thanking her for all she had done as a teammate and a role model. To this day it is the last time the school had a team make a State Final.

After everyone had been dismissed and Jo was talking with her coach about some potential college scholarships, Jo noticed that two of the cheeerleaders were still there. One she very clearly noticed. How could she not notice Cynthia Swanson? Five foot five inches, long blond hair, sapphire blue eyes, a body that was made to be in a skimpy cheerleaders’ uniform. She was absolutely gorgeous. Everyone knew it, especially Cynthia Swanson.

Cynthia ran the school. Well, not really, but she was the head cheerleader and had minions to do her bidding. She was dating Chad Van der Hoff, the Quarterback of the Football Team (of course). As the Quarterback, Chad had his own minions, but Chad’s minions were Cynthia’s minions as well. If a girl needed her “special attention” one of her minions would do what was needed. If it were a boy who needed the attention, she would tell Chad who would send out one of his minions to do whatever Cynthia wanted.

Jo and Cynthia never had an issue. As an athlete herself, Jo got along with Chad’s minions, so she was always safe there. And Cynthia’s minions were afraid of Jo. Cynthia was not about to take Jo head on. So, Cynthia kept her distance and Jo kept hers.

The other girl was almost impossible to see. Cynthia was such a bright light that she outshone all those around her. And Jacqueline Hennessey was always right next to Cynthia. A bit shorter at Five Foot, Four Inches, Jacqui (with a little heart over the “i”) had her red hair in the standard cheerleader ponytail. Only Cynthia was allowed to have her hair loose and flowing about her.

Jo could sense the eyes on her and she turned to see Cynthia kastamonu escort staring at her. Usually, she would get a death stare, but this time Cynthia was smiling. That should have been a tip-off to Jo. But Jo was talking to her coach about her future and she had just had all the joy and excitement of the assembly. So, when she looked back and saw Cynthia leaving the gym, she felt relief. Jo did do a double-take though, because even though Cynthia was leaving, Jacqui was not.

Jo finished her conversation with her coach and started heading out of the gym when she saw Jacqui walking toward her. “Hi, Jo. Congratulations on your Golden Cleat Award.”

“Boot. Golden Boot, Jacqui.”

“Oh, sorry. Well, it’s still very impressive. You’re pretty amazing Jo.”

“Would Cynthia want you to say that?” Jo’s comment had been intended to be snarky and biting. And it hit the mark.

“I can have my own opinions.” Jacqui said defensively and the hurt of the statement registered on her face.

Jo now felt bad for having said it. Her grievances were with Cynthia, not Jacqui. “Okay sorry. I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just like, you’re always right there with her. It’s like you’re a part of her.”

“I have a life away from Cynthia, ya know.” The defensiveness was starting to stray toward anger and Jo really had no reason to antagonize Jacqui.

Jo tried to sound less abrasive when she said, “I am sure you do. But she is a larger-than-life presence and you seem to get lost always being next to such a bright light.”

The change in tone by Jo seemed to relax Jacqui and her posture seemed less defensive when she said, “Well, it’s just me now. What do you think?” Jacqui began doing some cheerleader moves. She stood with her feet spread and put her arms over her head. Then she turned to the side and lifted on leg up and bent it at the knee. Then she turned again with her feet apart and her hands in fists are her hips.

“I think you are very impressive in your own right, Jacqui.” Even as she said it, Jo realized just how much she had meant it. For the first time, probably ever, she had taken a good long look at Jacqui and was immediately shocked at how much she liked what she saw. The cute, round face, the lively green eyes. Jacqui was not slender but she was still in great shape. Cheerleading does require its share of athleticism and it showed on Jacqui. Her breasts were not large but they were not small either. Jo was also drawn to the long red hair.

Without even realizing she was speaking out loud, Jo said, “I’d love to see what you look like with your hair down.”

Jacqui smiled and reached back to get the hair tie holding her ponytail. Jo began to blush in embarrassment, and that embarrassment also prevented her from stopping Jacqui. So Jo just watched as Jacqui loosed her hair. She snapped her head around to shake it out of the bunch the ponytail had kept it in and said, “Better?”

“Incredible.” Jo was now transfixed by the vision in front of her. No longer hiding in Cynthia’s shadow, Jacqui was center stage and Jo thought she was gorgeous. Without her mind even consciously making it happen, her hand reached out and took a hold of some of the rust-colored tresses and pulled them through her fingers.

Jacqui giggled and that brought Jo back into the present. Jo looked down and said, “Oh…um, sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It was nice.” When Jo looked up Jacqui was smiling and was gathering up her hair to put it back into the ponytail.

Jo said, “Why don’t you leave it down? You have beautiful hair and it frames your face when it’s down like that.”

“Jo, I know you’re the captain of the team, but you have to think back to when you weren’t. The captain gets to set rules and the rest of the team has to follow them. Cynthia is my Captain and she wants us all to keep our hair in ponytails. She wants us to look uniform.”

“She gets to wear her hair down?”

“Well, she’s the star of the team. If anyone should understand that; you should.”

“Huh. Girls’ soccer isn’t exactly Boys’ Football. Or Cheerleading for that matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you see throngs of admirers hanging around me the way they do with Chad or Cynthia.”

“I’m here Jo.” Jacqui’s voice again had a hint of having been stung by Jo’s words.

This time Jo had not been trying to be snide or hurtful. She was just expressing her anger at the unfairness of the high school world of power and prestige. She was angry that the only reason the school came together to cheer her on and her amazing year was because they had been forced to come. That all those same kids went to every football game even though the team was not very good. Chad was a less than average quarterback on a lackluster team and yet he was king of the school. And Cynthia was his queen even though she was not particularly graceful or athletic.

By rights Jo should have been the Queen kayseri escort of the school. She should have had several attendants and the boys should have been falling at her feet. The crowds should have been applauding her. But she had no attendants, no cheering crowd. No boys even wanting to go out on a date with her.

But Jacqui was there. Jacqui with that beautiful red hair and those dazzling green eyes had stepped out of Cynthia’s shadow so she could give Jo a little attention and congratulate her. And so far, Jo had not been very nice to her.

“Sorry Jacqui. I know that sounded terrible and I want you to know how happy I am that you stayed to talk to me. That was truly kind of you.”

Jacqui smiled and said, “Congratulations again and I know I think what you did for the team and for the school is amazing. I wish they had let us cheer at your games. You scoring all those goals would have given me a lot to opportunities to jump around and call your name.”

The two just stared at each other. Jo did not know what to say and all that her mind could do was fill itself with images of Jacqui, her red hair blowing in the breeze jumping up and down calling out Jo’s name after a goal.

Jacqui turned and walked out of the gym. At the door she turned and saw Jo still standing right where she left her. Jacqui put her hand to her mouth and blew Jo a kiss. Then she turned and went through the door.

Jo still did not move for several seconds. Then she had this sudden urge to run after Jacqui. That started a conversation in her brain.

“Why aren’t you running after her?”

“Why should I?”

“You like her.”

“What do you mean I like her?”

“You like her. Why did you run your fingers through her hair? Why did you stare into her eyes? Why did you watch her tits bounce up and down when she cheered for you after you scored that goal?”

“That didn’t really happen. I was just imagining that when she said she had wanted to cheer for me.”

“Yeah, but why did you imagine yourself watching her tits? You ‘like her’ like her.

“I like boys. I want to date boys and I want boys to date me.”

“Just because you like boys doesn’t mean you can’t like girls too.”

“I’ve never liked girls.”

“Maybe you just hadn’t met one that you really liked before?”

“I’ve known Jacqui for years.”

“Yeah, but you always knew her as Cynthia’s sidekick. You loved her hair when she took it down.”

“Yeah, that was nice. It was so silky. I loved it. I…what are you smiling at?”

“I told you. You like her. And no matter what else, I am always going to know you like her.”

“Oh, shut up!” Now that her argument with herself was finally over, Jo walked out of the gym herself and went home.

Dinner that night at the Napoli house was fun. Josephine (since she was home with her mother, it’s not Jo) told her parents all about the assembly and about the scholarship talk with her coach. She did not tell them about Jacqui. Her mother noticed that she would drift off at times into her own thoughts. But soon, Vito was going over highlights from Jo’s soccer career back as far as seven years old. So, the night ended on a high note.

Jo did not sleep well that Friday night. Laying in bed, she had nothing to distract her mind from the thoughts she was having about Jacqui. She liked guys. There were a couple of guys she would have dated if they had ever asked. Hell, she had touched herself on a few nights thinking of Chad and she didn’t even like Chad. But he had a rugged handsomeness to him.

“It’s not my fault that guys did not ask me out. I’d definitely would go out with a bunch of guys. And I’d let them kiss me. And I’d want to kiss them. Maybe even do more with them.”

But once again that other part of her wouldn’t let this go. “Yeah, but you would kiss Jacqui if you could.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

“Oh, come on? If she was right in front of you, your hands running through the lovely red hair, staring into the green eyes?”

“I would kiss her. At least I’d want to kiss her.”

“Of course you would.”

“It’ll never happen though. I’m sure she’s already right back in Cynthia’s shadow.”

“Pity too.”

“Why?”

“We liked seeing her with her hair down.”

Jo went to bed that night determined to clear her mind of whatever had gotten confused that afternoon after the assembly. She began playing with herself, slowly bringing herself toward and orgasm. A very sexual act. And she did it imagining herself with a number of the more attractive boys in her school. She saw their faces and imagined them kissing her. Touching her under her shirt and playing with “the girls.”

It was all very erotic but it just wasn’t getting her where she needed to go. She had told herself that she was going to stop when her mind filled with the image of Jacqui and the sensations Jo had felt touching her hair. Then she imagined Jacqui touching her breasts as Jo herself was tugging at her own nipples. She could sense Jacqui’s gentle touch and it send a jolt of pleasure straight through her body and right down to her clit, where Jo’s other hand began feverishly rubbing back and forth. Unable to contain herself, Jo screamed out in pleasure as her body spasmed in a huge orgasm.

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

They spent the next several days working through the various steps for preparation and the actual trial with The Trio. Felicity kept changing it up on who she took first to make sure she didn’t settle into too much of a routine.

“I still can’t believe that most of your responsibilities around here involve just having sex with me, that seems a bit odd.” Felicity commented as they were heading out to the baths again for their prep session. She was starting to enjoy the prep session a lot.

“Well, we do our morning routines, as you see from breakfast and prayers, then we get some things done later in the afternoon, so it’s not all you, even though that’s the best part of my day.” Bella gushed.

“Oh, me too.” said Eden with the brightest smile on her face.

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.” Felicity replied, somewhat satisfied that she wasn’t being a burden. “I do have one other silly question for you though, what exactly is this place called anyway? I get goddesses and golden lips and all that, but it has to have an official name, right?” Felicity asked. “So far, in the days I’ve spent here, no one ever mentioned that.”

“Well, they tried the Sisterhood, but that was taken. Sisterhood of the Golden Lips wasn’t enough of a change either.” Bella responded. “I’m not great with remembering most things, like the actual name, but the random trivia stuck for some reason.”

“I heard they even tried Golden Lips Oasis, but that sounded too much like a strip club, so they didn’t go with that one either.” Eden chimed in. Everyone giggled at that one just as they were reaching the baths. “But we just call it the retreat. We’re not really sure what the name is supposed to be, but that’s what everyone says when they’re doing outreach or other work, if they are even asked about it.”

“I would think there needs to be an official name somewhere for charity purposes, mail and official stuff like that. Right?” Felicity was overthinking things for now as they had more important things to focus on than mailing addresses and registered charities. At least Eden and Bella had more important things to focus on, Felicity’s trials with The Trio.

They entered the baths, which luckily seemed to always be the right time of the day, and it looked like they would have the place to themselves again for a while. That suited Felicity just fine as she was still a little awkward having people watch as Bella and Eden prepared her for the trials.

“Don’t worry about that stuff now, ask the headmistress if you’re really worried, but she’ll probably think that you’re here from the government doing an audit or something.” Bella tried to move them along back to the more important things while Eden had her hands all over the other important things getting Felicity’s dress off.

“Hey, easy there. I know you’re eager, but I think I can get my dress off myself right now.” Felicity tried to slow Eden down a bit without sounding too harsh. She knew she could have a bit of a tone at times and hoped she hadn’t struck it too brashly with them.

“Sorry, I just really want to get to the good parts. I know we’ve done this a few times already, but it really is the highlight of my day most days.” Eden apologized and blushed as she looked away and went over to the oil fonts that were along the side of the pool to get them ready as usual. She sniffed a couple and then rearranged them as she moved one to be closer to the bath in front, placing the brass container into the recess along the edge of the tile.

Bella had taken her dress off and piled it neatly on a small table, Eden did the same when she was done with the oils. Felicity slid hers over her head and got stuck a bit on her bust and then almost caught her earring again as Eden looked on shaking her head. “Maybe I should have helped after all?” She said with a sly little grin, trying not to look too smug.

Felicity placed her dress in a messy heap atop the other two perfectly folded garments and walked over to where Bella and Eden were standing.

“You know the basic routine by now with the oils, but we should keep this different as well. Would you like Eden to start with the oil this time, or would you like a different kind of challenge?” Bella asked.

“How different exactly?” Felicity asked, her nerves a bit on edge as she always was during their practice sessions. It was mostly her being eager and anxious to get into it now as she enjoyed the sessions at least as much as the other girls.

“We could blindfold you during the prep part. You wouldn’t know for sure who’s hand it might be, we could both be doing it and we could change things up since you couldn’t anticipate where we were standing or moving toward, aside from the gently movement of the water.” Bella explained, a slight deviousness snuck into her tone as she worked through all the idea she had in her mind and she started to warm a bit herself.

“Um. Okay. I think that will heighten the experience in some ways, plus force me to focus and will be kuşadası escort a very good test I believe.” Felicity responded with all of her logic laid out for everyone to see.

“Good. Let me get something for that.” Bella moved to the cabinets along the edge of the bath areas and found a hand towel that would do the trick. She moved back over to Felicity and started to wrap her eyes, tightly enough to block out the light, but not to make it uncomfortable. This wasn’t a session about pain, they could always just do that themselves if they wanted to be penitent before the goddess.

She secured the towel and looked at Felicity to make sure she wasn’t looking back. She then took a few steps around and watched as Felicity tried to follow the sound, but had no idea what she was looking for. Satisfied that the blindfold worked well enough she signaled to Eden to come help her get Felicity into the baths.

“Ready to begin then?” Bella asked softly to not give too much away about her position in the room yet.

“Yes, I believe so. I’m already tingling a bit though in anticipation just to warn you.” Felicity said.

“So, we’re going to do the usual that we have done over the last couple days with the oils, but we’ll try a different mix to see that it arouses you a lot more. Like I’ve said before, they try to put you at a disadvantage from the beginning. Between rubbing all over your body and then the oils, it’s kind of cheating if you ask me.” Bella explained more fully what she meant, shaking her head a little at the lengths they go to for some of these things. “But we can cheat too, if we get you aroused at a higher level and you practice with that, then the regular challenge should seem easier.”

Bella led Felicity into the water, backing down into the pool in front of her this time so she could guide her steps now that she was blindfolded. Eden followed after a short wait and stood immediately behind her.

“Remember, they will have other girls prepare you and lead you back to the testing area, likely Angelina’s chambers.” Bella started.

“That way The Trio isn’t already aroused before they even start.” Eden finished for her. Felicity kept moving her head to figure out where they were but was finding it difficult to focus on one person at a time.

“Let’s start then.” Bella stated plainly looking at Felicity as she did. She missed seeing Felicity’s eyes staring back at her and the they seemed to swallow her in since they were so deep.

Bella dipped her hands into the font on the left and rubbed them together, then placed them on Felicity’s breasts and started to massage them gently. The oil felt warm as it rubbed into her nipples and the cooler air caused them to harden more than usual. Bella put more oil on her hands and rubbed again, this time pulling herself closer and rubbing her own breasts against Felicity. Their nipples rubbed hard against each other and Felicity thought she could feel some energy pulsing between them as they did.

“Bella? I’d recognize those nipples anywhere.” Felicity moaned out as her body continued to respond to the attention and whatever the energy was doing to her. “Not sure what, but they really do something to me. I feel like my whole body comes alive when ours touch. But being blindfolded this time has heightened that experience.”

“It’s the same for me. When I rub against you, I feel this electricity between us. I guess it’s another gift from the goddess that we get to share somehow. I’m not going to question it.” Bella was close to a moan herself as her breathless words barely echoed around the empty baths.

Suddenly Felicity felt hands reach around and slide down between her legs, the oil was almost tingling as they rubbed it in. She assumed from the position they were Eden’s, but with the blindfold she really couldn’t tell for sure. Eden’s hands moved all the way down to the top of her wet hair and just beyond, touching the tip of her sex, but stopped there. Eden put more oil on her hands and continued, this time sliding down to coat the length of her lips and just spreading them slightly. As the oil coated her outer lips and started to spread inside, the tingling started to increase and Felicity wasn’t sure how much she could take. Eden made a third pass, this time sliding inside her and getting the oil deeper in. Felicity was pretty sure that would put her over the edge soon, but she held on.

Bella dipped her hands into the oil again but reached around to massage Felicity’s perfectly rounded ass cheeks and squeezed them as she did. With another dip of her fingers, she slid farther down and coated the outside of her tight little rose as Felicity gasped at the warming sensation and the pressure of Bella’s fingers so close. Another pass and she slid a finger all the way inside and Felicity fell forward onto Bella’s shoulders for support. The warming, the penetration, the slickness of the oil almost pushing her over the edge again.

Bella dipped into kocaeli escort the oil once more, but now reached behind her to coat Eden’s full breasts with oil as she then pushed against Felicity’s back, with her hardening nipples and soft pillows spreading the oil all over her. It was all Felicity could do to stand up and not cum on the spot. The two beautiful women were pushing her to the edge with just the simplest of touches and caresses. The oil adding an element of arousal, but it was their fingers and hands, and oh those glorious breasts between which she was now a quivering sandwich. She couldn’t imagine how she was ever going to survive the trio if she couldn’t even survive the preparation.

“There, that should do it. I think we went a bit farther than they will, but it’s better to be safe.” Bella sounded happy with their efforts so far. “Oh, wait.” She dipped her hands into the other oil and ran that over her ass cheeks and slid inside again as Eden did the same with the warming oil for her pussy.

“Almost forgot we wanted to add more of the tingly one with the warming one this time to push you a little harder.” Eden said. “If we left that out, that wouldn’t have helped us simulate your encounter with The Trio.”

“Again, saying it like that isn’t helping.” Felicity managed to get out in between gasps and shallow breaths as the increased blend of the combined oils now made it feel like her entire body, but especially the important parts, were vibrating.

Bella and Eden helped Felicity out of the bath pool and daubed at her skin to get the heavy water off, but making sure not to rub off much of the oil.

“Trying to decide if we keep the blindfold on for the next step too.” Bella giggled as she thought about teasing Felicity a little more. “Probably safer for you to take it off now though at least and put it back on later if we really wanted it.”

Bella reached to remove the towel blindfold and gently untied the knot and pulled it off as Felicity started to rub her eyes and blink to adjust to the light again. Bella looked at the towel and let out a shocked gasp.

“What? What is it?” Felicity asked. Wondering what was happening now with all the changes going on.

“Oh, my goddess. I’ve never seen anything like that before. Your mark, it left an image on the towel somehow.” Eden said in disbelief as she held the towel with Bella, both of their hands shaking a bit. “We should tell someone about this tomorrow after prayers.”

“No, Felicity should decide whether she mentions it to Angelina or not, it is hers after all.” Bella said, trying to sound convincing, but her voice wavering.

“Oh. You’re probably right, but let’s keep that safe.” Eden agreed.

Just as they finished the doors opened and a couple other girls started to walk in. There was a slight hush as everyone looked around at each other while no one spoke. The girls who entered looked at each other and started whispering without looking at the group again, then decided to head out. They looked back at Felicity before leaving and the looks on their faces said all anyone needed to know. They seemed both scared and jealous of Felicity somehow.

“Well, that was just rude, wasn’t it?” Eden said what everyone else was thinking.

“Yes. But, forget about them we have work to do and I’m still horny as hell.” Bella replied.

“Me too.” said Eden, her spirits lifted by the thought of being with Bella and Felicity again. “Let’s get back to the important stuff.” Eden and Bella started heading to the exit.

“Shouldn’t we at least cover up a little?” Felicity tried to ask but was ushered out the door before anyone could answer. They got the usual giggles from a few people they passed, and then the astonished looks from some. Even though they were in this little sex cloister a handful of the members seemed to be a bit prudish, which surprised Felicity and made her giggle herself. She was never all that shy about being naked and showing her body, she was just trying to make sure they weren’t violating some protocol she didn’t know of yet. After all she was proud of her body, so why should she hide it?

When they arrived at her room a couple other girls happened to be passing by. Their disapproving looks made Felicity act out a little just for fun. She laughed at the hypocrisy of criticizing three beautiful young women who chose to remain naked after their baths while walking around in their short sheer dresses that showed everything anyway. She stopped before entering, then turned to the passersby and licked her lips seductively while running her hands over her oiled breasts, tweaking her nipples even harder. She realized her own mistake when she felt the heat rise in her again that had never abated from their preparation time.

Bella and Eden giggled some more as they quickly entered Felicity’s room, with their looks of determination returning as they planned to take Felicity for all she was worth as part of their training.

“You konya escort won’t get a choice with The Trio, but who do you want first now?” Bella asked, flirting with Felicity with her smile and eyes.

“Well, I think Eden was first last time, but I feel like you challenge me a little more, so I think I’d actually like her first again.” Felicity responded.

“Logical choice, for now.” Bella smirked with a knowing look. “And you’re right, while you may have already cum once by the time I get to you, I’m sure I can take you again before you get me halfway there.”

Felicity gulped at the tone in the challenge from Bella. She didn’t know anyone here that well, but Bella sounded like she had even more tricks up her sleeves that she wouldn’t be expecting.

“I’ll get in position and you can saddle up when you’re ready. Just remember, focus on my pleasure and not yours and you should do fine.” Eden said as she moved to lie down across the bed.

“I’ll be honest, I’m still a bit selfish that way, but I’ll try to change my focus for this part. Guess we can all just play like usual if we have anything left after we’re done, right?” Felicity seemed a little unsure of herself as she started to move over to climb on Eden. As she walked, she thought she could feel a slight trickle from between her legs as all the talk about sex had her worked up again. It didn’t help that the extra oil from her preparation was having even more of an effect on her and she was close to being on fire again.

“Plant that pussy right here and go to town already.” Eden was getting impatient and smiled and patted her cheeks as she indicated where she wanted Felicity and just how soon she wanted her.

Felicity smiled and climbed on board as she felt the oil from between her legs slide across Eden’s face. Eden’s tongue dove in hard and went straight to work, causing Felicity to stiffen up in response. You would think she would be expecting it after a couple days, but it was such a delight having her there.

The heat level she felt was rising and the shock of pleasure shot straight through her. She wouldn’t be able to hold on at all if Eden kept up her pace. Luckily, she relented a little and started licking and kissing around her lips, teasing her a little. But she went right back with her attack again sending Felicity into another realm as her mind wandered from the sensations she was feeling. It didn’t help that Eden’s full bust was rubbing against her belly, with her hard nipples driving their heat into her. The added oil was definitely having the desired effect as she was more aroused than usual at this point with Eden.

She focused as much as she could and started kissing Eden open as she licked gently inside, but wasted no time in sliding her fingers in when she saw how wet she was. She managed to slide two fingers deeply inside and placed her thumb along her clit, rubbing gently and tapping lightly. She curled her fingers and thrust steadily in and out feeling Eden match her motions, rocking her hips with the thrusts. She focused her tongue along the edges of her lips as she continued her fingering. She felt like Eden could take more and she eased in a third finger which now felt snugly buried inside her. Eden gasped and let up on her attack of Felicity, but she regained composure enough to continue in between breaths that were becoming shallower and more irregular.

Felicity sped up her thrusts and switched to kissing and sucking on Eden’s clit and as she spread her fingers out a little and her pinky rubbed gently below her lips and Eden started to cum hard. Felicity had lost track of where she was as Eden humped her hand violently, cumming with a ferocity Felicity hadn’t experienced before. Suddenly Felicity felt her own orgasm overtake her and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She just focused on the waves of pleasure running through her trying not to suppress any part of it and enjoy it fully. She knew if she rode it out all the way she would be more satisfied with this one and be able to hold on longer next time. She started to grind against Eden as she neared the last tiny ripple and pushed herself to work out every last little sensation that she could.

They both gasped for breath as they recovered. Bella reached out her hand to brush against Felicity’s body as she laid there next to them. “Next?” Bella said, sounding a little cocky as she did or maybe she was feeling a bit pussysure of herself.

Felicity lifted herself off Eden as Eden rolled to her side to exit the bed and let them have their turn. They were both still dripping and hot. As Felicity climbed on to her next victim, she could feel herself drip all over Bella as she slid into place from both the oil and her own juices.

Bella moaned at having Felicity drip all over her as she mounted her face. And without any delay she kissed Felicity wide open and slid her tongue in as deeply as she could, trying to pretend to be Chastity, but there was no comparison there.

Felicity felt for Bella’s lips and slid her fingers over the soft ridges as she spread them slightly, just teasing at them. Bella seemed to respond to a softer touch at first then build quickly before she came. Felicity was determined to drive her over the edge quickly this time though after her teasing.

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

“So,” said Rosie, “what did you want to talk about?”

I’d bumped into Melanie Butcher in the Sherry Cask a few days before. She’d been friendly and, to be honest, I had enjoyed talking to her which was not at all what I’d expected. I’d also been thinking about her rather a lot before that encounter which was weird because I loathed her.

A couple of times she had indicated she wanted to fuck me but always with overtones of, oh, I don’t know, kinky, maybe S hints rather than overt references. But, then again, maybe that was my mind not hers.

But that evening in the Sherry Cask she had first intimated that my wrist would look good with a cuff on it and then touched my nipple, albeit through my blouse, and told me my body betrayed my need for her or something like that. I had, almost literally, run away. But when I got home, I had simply shut my door and leaned back against the wall of my entrance hall and masturbated, thinking of that encounter and, damn her, cum in seconds.

It didn’t end there. For a few days after my thoughts had turned frequently to her and with the same effect. Once, on a bus to meet an interviewee, I’d been daydreaming and suddenly felt my cunt flood almost as much as it had on that bar stool in the Cask.

Rosie is one of the most intelligent people I know. A sometimes lover, she is beautifully butch and definitely a top. As far as I know, she’s not into violence, at least, not beyond vigorous sex, a slap or two, and the nearest she’s taken me to bondage is a blindfold. She likes to be in charge as indeed to a lesser extent, does my friend Val who is a beautiful bisexual leaning straight.

So, it was to Rosie I turned because I knew I could be totally open with her. Nothing would shock her, as long as it was legal and consensual. I’d called her and asked if she’d let me get her a drink in the little hole in the wall bar near her law firm’s chambers.

She turned up in her work clothes, a black trouser suit, just as she’d been wearing when I’d bumped into her outside the council offices when Butcher had pretty much threatened me. I told her the story, just as I have recounted it here.

I’d got us each a large Scotch and by the time I had, uninterrupted, told her my tale she took my hand.

“I think we need another one of these,” she said, wiggling her glass.

“I’ll get them.”

“No, no you won’t. I don’t get to hear tales like yours every day so I shall buy them and then we can give this matter some mature reflection. Then we’ll go for supper. No arguments.”

So it was with a second Scotch standing on the table before me and Rosie’s penetrating gaze on me I told, at her instruction, the whole story again. Well, maybe not the whole story. I omitted the bit about masturbating when I got home and the fact that I had been so aroused by her despite also being appalled that I had made my knickers sopping wet, and it wasn’t because I had pissed myself.

“You’re not telling me everything.” Rosie is, as I said, bloody perceptive. “Tell me everything. How you felt, everything.”

I stuttered a bit and said something about, well, it got me a bit, well, you know.

Rosie smiled and took my hand. “When you get aroused, your nipples grow. They are like Pinocchio’s nose, except they grow when your body is telling the truth. You’d gone out looking for someone hadn’t you?” I nodded. “So, you were wearing something that would, let us say, allow these,” she waved her fingers briefly towards my tits, “to speak your mind. Right?”

“Right.”

“And they did, didn’t they?” I nodded again. “What we you wearing?”

“The black blouse.” Rosie knew it.

‘Christ, Catherine, you might as well have hoisted a flag saying ‘fuck me.’ If she’s anything like me she’d have read that.”

‘But,” and whilst I am not a woman who blushes, I felt myself getting a bit hot, “it was when she mentioned a cuff on my wrist that I, well,”

“Oh, sweetie.” She gave me a wolfish smile. “Got a bit damp in the gusset did we?” I couldn’t meet her eyes but I nodded. She cupped my chin. “Listen. Your body never lies. It doesn’t lie to you or to me and so, ok, it betrayed you to her but it was honest. Don’t be ashamed of how you feel. Yes, it sounds like she’s into the D/s stuff but the big, big question is not if that was what got you all hot and bothered, the real question is were you in that state because of the notion of handcuffs or because of her.”

‘I haven’t separated the two.”


“Then you should.”

~

I thought a lot about what Rosie said over the next few days. To be honest, it didn’t help. I decided that my instinct regarding Butcher, that is, that she was fundamentally a mean bitch might be skewed because of meeting her in her role as councillor as opposed to meeting her in a social context. I mean, she’d been fine for most of our conversation and even at the end, where she mentioned cuffs, it hadn’t been nasty. It just took me by surprise, as had her touching my nipple. But I wasn’t to know that thoughts of Butcher mersin escort would, at least for a while, be pushed aside.

I was doing a feature about local theatre and had contacted one of the smaller playhouses in the old harbourside area to see if they’d help me gain some insight and give them some free publicity. The woman in charge almost bit my hand off.

Glenda Mason was short, dumpy and had the warmest smile. We sat in the stalls, right in front of the stage and chatted as she told me the problems and joys of running a theatre.

“Costs are the main thing. We get a trickle of grants from the Arts Council and the local council.” I didn’t know the local government helped out. “But fuel costs are horrendous and it’s hard to charge too much for tickets because punters wont pay. Then there are royalties to put on a production, and, of course, wages. We have volunteers for front of house which helps.

“Then, there are actors. Don’t get me started on actors.” I hadn’t intended to but it was clearly a big thing for her. “First, they are almost all prima donnas, men as well as women. You’d think this was Broadway sometimes instead of a flea pit in a small city.”

“That’s a bit harsh on yourselves.”


She grinned. “Yes, don’t print that bit. But, honestly, they are cussed and temperamental and unreliable.”

As she finished that sentence, I heard a noise from behind the stage curtain, a low murmur of voices which gathered volume.

“A rehearsal. Would you like to watch? It’s a modern play written by a local woman. Very artsy which means nobody will come to see it but it helps us maintain our grants. If we did the stuff that its bums on seats we’d never get any help so, during the low season, we let the pretentious and, sometimes simply barmy brigade have a bash. The director will come and sit with you and you can ask anything as long as you don’t interrupt when she’s working.” With that, Glenda left.

The curtain rose and there was the cast, a mixed bunch in a variety of scruffy clothing. The director was issuing instructions but to me it looked like she was having as much luck as she might herding cats. She, Eleanor Grant, was tall, wiry and clearly getting exasperated. She stood with her back to me at the front of the stage and all I could tell was that she had a blonde ponytail, long legs in tight jeans and a great arse. She shouted at the cast to ‘shut the fuck up,’ and gave them a dressing down.

“Act like fucking professionals. Time is limited and we need to get this shit right. If anyone doesn’t know their lines, they’re fired. I want no larking about, just hard, hard work. You, Bernard,” she was speaking to a tall, gangly boy who looked about 14. “Get your hands out of your pockets, stop playing with yourself and get in position. Cassie, stop chewing gum, for fuck’s sake. Christ, it’s like a dysfunctional sixth form college.”

She hopped off the stage and, as she made her way to the seat beside me, shouted, “Act Two. Positions. Get on with it.”

Since I hadn’t seen Act One it was almost totally incomprehensible but it seemed to be about a psychiatric ward.

Grant sat next to me and smiled. “Don’t try to understand it. It’s meant to be dense, to take the audience into the minds of disturbed people, and this lot,” she gave an airy wave of her hand to the cast, “are perfect for the roles.”

There was a lot of rage, of introspection, as well as some obviously well-rehearsed dialogue which was like people holding a conversation where they are talking about different things.

“You’re Catherine, the journo?” I nodded. “Nice to meet you, I’m Eleanor.”

I grew to realise that her apparent irascibility concealed a genuine affection for the players. She was very firm and direct with them, but they seemed to respect her and took her blunt criticism with good grace. While she was giving them an expletive-filled critique, I had a good look at her. About 50, I guessed, she had a long neck, good cheek bones and her blonde hair looked natural since her roots didn’t show and her eyebrows matched. Her eyes were a piercing blue. Above the jeans she wore a baggy sweater that somehow revealed the shape of her substantial tits rather nicely.

I watched her put them through their paces for a couple of hours then she sent them away to work in pairs in the rehearsal room and offered to buy me a coffee. I followed her to the small coffee shop in the foyer, pictures from earlier productions and shots of a few of the now-famous people who had cut their teeth in the theatre. One picture stood out.

“Is that you?”

“Sharp eyes. Yes, it is me. I was St Joan and, frankly, fucking useless but I got away with it. I turned to directing when I realised that I was a lot better at it than acting.”

We talked for a while and I found her to be great company and so it was a bit of a disappointment when she mentioned her husband. Why can’t more women like her be gay? Oh well, life is full of disappointments.

~

I muğla escort saw Rosie again that evening. I think a vague sense of disappointment regarding Eleanor Grant had left me wanting a bit of affirmation. She readily agreed to have a meal with me but then suggested she’d like to cook for me. I wore the black silk blouse and a grey and black streaked skirt because I wanted to hoist the ‘fuck me’ flag. I went up to Rosie’s flat and found the door open and my heels clicked on her parquet floor.

“I’m in the kitchen. Come on in and pour us a drink.”

She was standing at her hob, barefoot and wearing black leather trousers and a silky, grey t shirt and stirring something that smelt delicious and obviously concentrating so I opened the bottle of red I had bought, poured two glasses then, standing behind her, I placed her glass on the worktop beside her and licked the nape of her neck.

“Trollop. I’ve got to get this ragu seasoned correctly so don’t distract me.”

She tasted a small spoonful and seemed satisfied. She turned, picking up her glass and noticed for the first time what I was wearing. She rested her back against the counter and gave me an appraising look. I noticed her packer was not in situ and, trust me, in those trousers I’d have seen.

She said, “Bloody decisions.”

“Explain.”

“Do I fuck you now, or after dinner.”

“There’s another option.”

‘No. I think I’ll make you wait. Lift your skirt.” I did and, as I suspect she had guessed, revealed I was naked beneath it. “Hmm. We’re being a little obvious, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

“While I serve dinner, you go into my bathroom and in the mirrored cabinet on the wall you’ll find a butt plug and some lube. Put it in and then come and eat.”

It was a good size and took me a few minutes to get it settled before I returned to find the meal laid out and our glasses beside our plates. I sat, very conscious of the lump of metal up my arse.

“So, my horny friend. Tell me about your day.”

I told her about the theatre and Grant and she told me about a client she had been defending in the Crown Court.

“She’s accused of murdering her husband.”


“Is that an offence?”

Rosie laughed. “In his case it ought not to be. A total bastard by all accounts. Talking of bastards, have you heard anything of Butcher?”

“Happily not.“’

Rosie stood up and said, “Leave the dishes. Come with me.”

She took my hand and led me through to her bedroom. She stood behind me and, taking a silk scarf that was lying on the bed, tied it round my eyes. Standing there, blind, I felt her nipples, hard under her t shirt, against my back through the silk of my blouse, and her breath by my ear. She spoke in a low whisper. “You came to me naked under your skirt. I liked that.” Her hands roamed over my breasts, squeezing my nipples as they poked through my blouse. “Hello, Pinocchio!” I felt her undoing my blouse and pulling it out of my skirt and off my shoulders. “They are so pretty. I’m going to make them prettier.”

I had no idea what she meant. I heard a slight rattle and then felt cold metal touching my right nipple. And then something constricted my nipple quite tightly and she kissed my neck. “A little clamp, looks so good.”

“It hurts a little.”


“Oh, you wait till it comes off.”

I felt the same on my left nipple and pressed back into her, in an attempt to get away from it. She pulled the clamps and made my nipples stretch a little. Her hand slipped up under the back of my skirt and a finger traced my cunt lips. Suddenly she moved away and then returned in a few seconds and I felt something like a belt being fastened around my wrist and then around my other wrist. ‘Well, now,” she said. “Butcher was right. Your wrists do look good like that.” Her finger ran between my lips again then came up to my mouth. “Taste.” I took it into my mouth and could taste the sweet, salty taste of my own cunt.

She moved away from me and I heard the sounds of undressing, a zip, the swish of fabric being lifted off her body. Then she undid the button and zip at the side of my skirt and let it fall so I was naked but for my heels.

She was in front of me now. Her hands ran over me, tweaking the clamps, stroking my arms and neck, pushing my hair back from my face.

How do you feel?”

“Vulnerable.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. But I cant see, you’ve put cuffs and clamps on me and it’s all so new.”


“But, you like it, don’t you?”

And, of course, she was right. I was a bit afraid, but that fear was stimulating. My nipples had stopped hurting and merely ached a little.

Rosie held me to her and it was obvious she was naked and had not donned her strappy, which rather disappointed me. She kissed my mouth and led me to the bed, guiding me to lie on it, on my back. She lifted my wrist and fixed it, somehow, to the bedhead and then moved around to the other side and did the same with that wrist. nevşehir escort She pulled my legs apart and the next thing I knew I was secured, spreadeagled. I felt her sit on the bed beside me and then her finger traced my mouth and, to my amazement, she fed me a rubber ball, which, once it was in place, she secured behind my head.

I felt her lick it, as well as my lips and she said, “An experiment in separation,” which made absolutely no sense to me in that moment.

But it was when she went down on me that the real excitement started in me. I could only feel and hear. I could move but had absolutely no control over what was happening. She took her time and licked me, slowly and lightly at first but, over time, a considerable time, the licks became firmer and more insistent. I was making incoherent noises and I guessed she was judging my arousal by my body’s movements and the noises I made. Her finger entered me, and I know I groaned because I love to be penetrated and, lovely as her finger was, I wanted more. Rosie, naturally, knew my desire for her to be inside me and, aside from one finger and a butt plug, she denied me for what seemed an eternity. One finger became two, and the pace of her finger fucking increased and I knew I was not going to be able to hold on much longer without cumin. Her mouth was playing with my clit, her fingers pumping in and out and interacting with the plug and, well, I was getting exceedingly close. It was just as I started wailing, wailing because my orgasm was climbing up through my body and had become irresistible, inevitable, unstoppable, that Rosie unclipped my right nipple.

Barely had she got that off when she removed the other and I roared but I had no idea if the roar was a cry of pain or of exquisite, orgasmic pleasure.

I decided, when I finally got my mind back in my head, that it was the latter. I felt like I had floated away, gone somewhere special, especially erotic and satisfying.

Untied, ungagged and able to see again I lay in Rosie’s arms. “That bloody hurt.”

She smiled. “Good though, huh?”

“Fucking amazing. Is that D/s?”

“Well,” and she hesitated as if finding the right words. “Well, it’s not vanilla but it’s not extreme either. You did well.”

“What did you mean by an experiment in separation.”

“That was probably a very mild example of what ‘Butcher-than-thou’ has in mind. But you didn’t need her to make it work for you, did you?”

I went down on her. Well, gratitude comes in many forms.

~

I said earlier that thoughts of Butcher were to be pushed aside. When I’m with Rosie, she is always the focus of my attention. But I knew she was not someone who wanted a relationship any more than I did. That said, we had a lot of great times together and I always found her great to chat through a problem. Butcher was one such subject and I valued her thoughts. As a consequence of our discussions I never did call Butcher and I was always glad that I hadn’t, but there remained a sneaking ‘what if’ feeling in my mind. So, you may ask, what supplanted her in my thoughts?

Yvette de Betrande was an unprepossessing woman at first sight. Her face was attractive enough, but sharp featured with thin lips. Her eyes were bright though and her hair was long, wavy and of the deepest black you can imagine. I’d contacted her agent for an interview. She was a humorist, a columnist and commentator on a satirical magazine and wrote about a wide range of topics including sexuality.

I’d been at one tv question and answer panel show that she had taken part in and was impressed by her humanity and wit.

“I don’t like ‘pride,'” she had said. “I’m not proud to be gay, any more than I am proud to be human, or a woman, or black-haired. I’m not proud, nor am I ashamed. I don’t like language that causes division. So, for example, what does ‘gender critical’ mean? How can anyone criticise gender. It is, after all, a fact. If I have a womb, a vulva and ovaries I’m physically a woman. I may not want to be and I may choose to wear men’s clothing and have hormone treatment and surgery to change my appearance so it matches how I feel but I’m still, biologically, female. The same applies to anyone with a penis. But there are problems. The vast majority of people who feel they are born the wrong gender should be helped and recognised. They, that majority, do not represent a threat to anyone. But some do. A tiny minority but they exist and society’s duty is to protect everyone, male, female, women, girls, whatever, from that tiny minority.”

You can imagine the uproar. Yvette was the devil, a heroine. She denied, she affirmed. Nothing polarises like Brexit and gender. To me, she was simply telling the truth, bravely and knowing the potential consequences.

A few weeks later, one mid-summer Saturday, that was hot during the day I went, as invited, to a dinner party in the garden of a friend’s big Georgian house on the Downs. An area of the city that is verdant and spacious parkland, the Downs is for the rich and, though I may not count myself as rich I admit to having a few wealthy friends including my host who had been at school with me. She, Alicia Cartwright, was a married woman who occasionally indulged herself with female partners and I had, once or twice obliged in that regard.

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

Blind Obsession by Alexa Chamberlain

1

Jill always looked good in a blindfold, anyway. Her black hair fell over the blind as Kelly made sure Jill could not see.

Jill’s face and shoulders were splashed with freckles that faded to white further down her chest. A soft nose, black hair, and blue eyes made her stunningly cute. Complimenting those features were full breasts with large nipples, soft legs and a rounded, tight ass. At 5’1″, she was a compact beauty. 22 years old and full of quiet sexuality.

Kelly was 30, taller at 5’5″, with shoulder length dark red hair. Slender with long legs, she boasted a pair of large DD breasts that swung in a sexy way when she was naked. A pretty face, milky white skin, and a half smile that always looked slightly dirty. She kept her pussy shaved and smooth, highlighting the silver hoop that pierced her left labia, matching the one on her lower lip.

2

They were both kneeling on the floor, Kelly behind Jill. “Can you see at all?”

“No, nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I can’t see, honest.”

Kelly looped a lock of black hair behind Jill’s ear.

A pumpkin spice candle added soft light along with the fire in the huge fireplace.

Jill was naked except for the blindfold and the fine, silver chain hanging around her neck and looping in between her breasts.

Kelly reached around and cupped Jill’s breasts, gliding her fingers over her swelling nipples.

“Behind your back, adana escort give me your hands.” Without a word, Jill complied. With a long black silk scarf, Kelly bound Jill’s hands behind her.

3

They had blankets laid out in front if the fire, assorted throw pillows around them. Jill was kneeling on one so she was comfortable. There was supposed to be some pain, but not discomfort from kneeling. Kelly wanted her comfortable.

Kelly stood up and stood back a little, just to admire Jill kneeling down, blindfolded and bound. Light flickered and Kelly noticed the streak of purple hair on the left side of Jill’s head.

“You’re so beautiful, Jill.”

“Thank you.”

“I love the shape of your breasts, how round and pretty they are.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m jealous of everyone who’s ever sucked them.”

Jill stayed silent.

“Do you want me to suck them?”

“Yes.”

Kelly knelt in front of Jill and leaning in, cradled one breast to her lips. She licked Jill’s nipple just underneath to it’s now erect tip.

Kelly then lifted Jill’s breast higher, and closed her mouth down onto it. She felt Jill’s nipple inside her mouth, and began to release her from her mouth. She felt the nipple start to slide out from her lips when she sucked as much of Jill back into her mouth as she could.

Jill loved the sensation, but only breathed a quiet sigh of pleasure.

Kelly moved to the other breast, starting with gentle sucking. She raked her teeth ankara escort across Jill’s breasts and nipples more aggressively now.

4

Kelly released Jill’s breast from her mouth, watching as it fell with a soft bounce back to Jill’s chest.

Kelly stood and lit the white votive candle they both agreed to use tonight.

Once some wax had pooled around the flame, Kelly knelt behind Jill again. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Replied Jill.

With that, Kelly poured a small stream of hot wax onto Jill’s left shoulder, and watched it trickle down and over her breast, stopping just above her erect nipple. Jill let out a breath in a whoosh. It was hotter and more painful than she expected, but she also felt the rush of wetness in her pussy.

Kelly poured more of the melted, milky white wax onto her same shoulder, closer to her neck now. The trail of wax broke into two streams as one raced directly over Jill’s nipple, the other onto the silver chain in between her breasts. The wax heated the fine silver, and she felt it burn into her skin slightly.

“You look amazing, so fucking hot,” said Kelly.

“Thank you.”

Kelly repeated the process over Jill’s right shoulder. Small streams of wax rolled down Jill’s body, reaching her breasts, and down to her stomach. One stream finally reached the inner crease of Jill’s thigh, stopping just outside the left of her pussy.

Kelly noticed a black tear escape from behind the blindfold.

“Shall I stop?”

“No, adıyaman escort no.”

“Almost done.”

Kelly got in front of Jill and flicked the candle across Jill’s neck and chest.

“Ahhhh,” Jill quietly breathed out.

Kelly began photographing Jill. “These are so gorgeous, baby. It looks like cum all over you.”

“But I like this pain”, noted Jill.

5

Kelly stood directly in front of Jill now, her own pussy inches away from Jill’s face. Jill sensed it, but could only smell wax. Jill leaned forward slightly until her lips met the lips of Kelly’s pussy. Kelly widened her stance just enough that Jill could kiss her pussy. Jill began to lick along the edges of Kelly’s shaved pussy, now taking in her taste and smell.

Kelly ran her fingers through Jill’s hair, pulling her into her pussy.

“Oh Jill, suck it…”

Jill found Kelly’s clit and gently sucked in and out.

“I wish I had a cock sometimes.” Kelly said.

“I’d suck it deep,” cooed Jill.

Kelly came and felt her pussy flood across Jill’s mouth.

“Unnn, mmm, Jill, fuck…Jill…”

Jill worked over Kelly’s pussy for another two orgasms. Weak in the knees, Kelly finally knelt down again behind Jill.

6

“I want to see it.”

Kelly removed the blindfold. Some of the wax had begun to crack and fall away from Jill’s skin. Kelly pulled off the remaining wax, caressing Jill’s tits as she worked. Jill looked down at the pattern of red marks and smiled. She loved the red marks left by the burning wax, the scratches and teeth marks in her breasts left by Kelly.

Facing each other on their knees, they started kissing. Softly at first, followed by increased passion and need.

“I feel so loved,” said Jill.

“You are, baby. I love you.”

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

“Honey! Are you okay?!” My mom squealed as I walked through the door. My face was red and slightly swollen from my “fight” with Riley not but 20 minutes ago.

“It’s fine Mom…I’ll be fine. I got into it with that girl, Riley, I told you about.” I quickly explained seeing the family of 4 in our family room and hurrying upstairs.

I ran into my room, closed the door behind me, threw my bags onto my bed, and looked into my mirror.

I looked at my reflection. My cheek was red and swollen from where Riley connected her punch. My eye was bruised and was darkening quickly. My lip had a split in it and was puffy.

Even with all this “damage” if you would call it that, I had a smile on my face.

I was smiling from the images reeling in my head, replaying the fight-turned orgasms in the shower not but half an hour ago.

I stared at myself as I felt my body reacting to everything. My nipples poked through my shirt. My crotch dampened in my panties. My whole body became warm, and everything inside was screaming to lay out on my bed and play with myself.

*knock knock knock*

“Beck…are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” My mom asked through the door.

I whipped my head from the mirror and toward the door. “I’ll be down in a minute mom, just going to clean myself up.”

“Okay, sweetie, don’t take too long. The meatloaf goes cold quickly.” My mother said, her voice trailing off down the stairs.

I shoved the images playing in my head in the coldest darkest corner of my brain and cleaned myself up. Throwing my hair in a messy bun, applying a small amount of makeup to my cheeks and lips, and changing my shirt to my black AC-DC shirt, I headed downstairs.

The Jacksons were a nice family. They had an older son and 2 younger daughters. Their youngest daughter, Kiley, was playing softball at the middle school down the road and they asked if I’d be willing to give her some lessons for pay every now and again. Which, of course, I was happy to oblige to. Not only was it easy money, but I loved softball more than anything, and I wanted to do what I could to help the future stars of the sport.

Their oldest daughter, Bella, was a Junior at my school. She was held back in her earlier years due to the age requirement to start first grade. This made her the oldest kid in her class and she was already 18. She was only a few months younger than me which is crazy to think about knowing that she was a whole grade below me.

She was a pretty brunette with bright green eyes, an athletic body, and was a cheerleader for the JV squad. Other than that, I didn’t know much about her.

Their oldest son, Cali, was off at school in Austin. I saw him once before we moved in and other than that, he was but a “name on the wind”.

Dinner was okay but very awkward. Everyone wanted to talk about the elephant in the room, being my obvious altercation, but no one dared to talk about it. I was avoiding it mainly because I knew that it would turn me on to briefly get into it.

I’m not gay, at least I wasn’t. Am I gay? Or did I get lost in the sexual nature of what happened and my lack of sexual satisfaction of late didn’t help? No matter my orientation, every time I thought about the fight my mind went straight to the feeling of Riley’s tongue. How her lips felt against mine. Her stiff nipples pressed firmly against mine. The smell and taste of her womanhood. And how badly I wanted all of this, again.

Taking longer than I had hoped, dinner came and went, and the Jacksons left. I quietly helped Mother clean up, put dishes in the dishwasher, and wrap up the leftovers, before making my way to my room.

I flipped on my corner lamp to give my room some light to not have the overhead light on. Threw myself into my bed under the covers, pulled out my phone, and instantly went to stalk Riley on Facebook and Instagram.

I don’t know if I am just this horny with all of this pent-up sexual frustration. If I subconsciously had a huge crush on her, I was feeding off the competitiveness, or if the orgasm was just so amazing that I was instantly addicted…but whatever the reason, I needed more.

It took me no time to find her Facebook and Instagram. At first, I wanted to learn more about her personally. Did she go out a lot? Did she have good taste in music? Did she play other sports? Was she popular? What did she do for fun? Did she have style?

I was pleasantly surprised, however, to find that like most Texans, she favored the lake in the summer. This gave me tons of photos of her in varying bikinis. I was surprised to see her incredibly toned body, perfect Latina-athletic ass, and her voluptuous tits.

I mean, of course, I just saw this all firsthand, however, it was the heat of the moment. We were fighting for most of it, and I never really admired her the way I am now. But this girl, for the bitch that she was and is, was extremely attractive.

I felt myself getting more and more aroused with each passing photo. My arousal became so heightened that I kicked off my jeans under kütahya escort my sheets and my fingers were lightly rubbing my labia through my now-soaked cotton panties.

Biting my lip, I scrolled through every picture, my eyes closing as my climax became nearer and nearer. Flashbacks of her sitting on my face, her tongue darting through my swollen lips, her fingers deep inside of me, all collectively bringing me to the edge.

*knock knock knock*

“Becky, we need to talk”, my mother said through the door as the doorknob began to turn, and the door opened.

In a panic, I locked my phone, put my phone to my side, and acted as if nothing was just happening. Though I would say, I’m sure my face was flushed and red. I was quick to get red when upset or horny.

With a deep breath, “Come on in, I guess.” I said.

“Sorry honey, I don’t mean to barge in but we need to talk about what happened to your face.” My mom said walking in, turning on the lights, and then sitting down at the foot of my bed. “What happened?”

“Me and that Riley girl got in a fight. She approached me in the shower and one thing led to another. The coach and rest of the team had left so no one else was there or saw it happen.” I began to explain.

“Well…that’s good news at least. The last thing you need is to be expelled for fighting a teammate. Why did this happen?” She asked sincerely, scooting forward on the bed.

“I don’t know mom. We just don’t like each other. She’s not used to getting competition and I’m not one to back down. She’s a spicy Mexican and I have this feisty attitude. Let’s not make a big deal about it okay? Most of why I’m hurt is from slipping in during the fight and hitting the tile in the shower.” I said, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my still-hardened nipples.

“Well…I trust you, and it sounds like you are okay. Please don’t hide stuff like this from me though. I am still your mother and I need to protect you while I still can.” She said rubbing her hand across my cheek.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said looking down at my lap. “I have some studying to do and probably should let my body rest.”

“I agree.” She said standing up from my bed and walking to the door. “Oh, Kiley’s parents wanted to know if you would meet her, and Bella, at Himmels Park for her first lesson tomorrow?”

“Did they give you a time? I won’t be done with tryouts til maybe 5?” I answered back, opening my phone and putting this down on my calendar.

“They didn’t but I’m sure 5:45/6 would work for them. I’ll text you Michelle’s, their mom, number.”

“Sounds good. Good night Mom.” I said to her, opening Instagram back up on my phone.

The picture on the screen was pretty and artsy, not something that comes to mind when you think of Riley. She was in a cute sundress, in a park surrounded by Bluebonnets, with the sun setting behind her. She looked amazing and the photo was well taken. The image tagged another profile, @shayneda1.

Of course, I clicked it and I immediately recognized the guy in the photo as one of the football jocks. “Was this her boyfriend?” I thought to myself. “If so then why were her profiles set to single?”

I went back to the image before and started to scroll down to the next when I thumbed the like button.

“Fuck!” I said out loud as I quickly took back the like on the image. Not that it would matter though, as I knew Instagram would notify her that I liked an image deep in her gallery of Instagram photos.

I dropped my phone to my side in an embarrassed rush and laid back on my bed. All the movement caused my phone to slide down the sheets and onto the floor.

Still very much confused and very much aroused, I proceeded to spread my legs under the sheets, find my hand under the elastic of my underwear, and brought myself off at the thought of what had happened after practice. After a mildly entertaining orgasm, I drifted off to sleep anxious about what was going to happen tomorrow.

The next morning came and went, as did the most of the day. Every class and mundane lecture went in one ear and out the other. I was trying my hardest to not engage with the thoughts and images of what had happened in the shower yesterday after practice. I needed to focus, I needed to win that starting position, and I couldn’t let my newly found sexual desires distract from that.

And if there was one thing I knew about myself, is that when I’m horny, I’m very, very, very horny. I couldn’t let myself only think about it all day or it would be the only thing my mind and body would crave.

I opted to eat the not-great but not-awful cafeteria lunch instead of heading out to Chick-fil-A as I had done previously. Knowing Riley took off school lunch, the last thing I wanted to do was bump into her in public.

I grabbed the healthiest thing the school’s lunch line made, chicken Caesar salad, sat down at an empty table, and ate alone. Checking my phone periodically, and trying to keep my mind occupied with whatever videos were viral on manisa escort Instagram and TikTok.

I stood up to throw my trash and put my tray away and my heart sank. Riley walked in with her 3 person posse and instantly made eye contact with me.

I could feel a frog in my throat, my face getting warm, my palms became sweaty and worst of all, my panties were instantly wet.

She didn’t motion toward me, scold me, scoff at me, or do anything other than stare at me for 5 to 10 seconds, before turning her head away and making her way to a table off in the corner of the cafeteria.

I swallowed what I could of my nerves and made my way to my locker to collect myself and my books before making my way to Calculus.

I did what I could to focus on the quadratic formulas and linear equations, but it was to no avail as constant flashbacks would hit. I would smell the soap of the shower, the feel of her lips on my skin, her taste on my tongue, and the incredible explosive release that came with it all.

My body ached as if I had been deprived for years, and regardless if it had been 20 months or the past 17 hours, I wanted more and I couldn’t wait.

My next few classes went on about the same, so there was no surprise that my instant reaction to the bell letting us out for the day led to me running to the field house. Normally, I’d be in and out, on the diamond, and warming up before the next person got in. Today, however, though I hurried to the locker room, I was taking my sweet time getting anything done.

I knew that Riley would be here soon and if we had a moment to speak about what happened it was going to be now.

Sure enough, not but 4 or 5 minutes after I sat my bag down at my self-claimed locker, Riley walked in with her duffle bag.

I eyed her from the moment I saw her to the moment she sat at her locker, and she knew it.

“What the fuck are you looking at, puta?” She growled at me as she turned her back and began to undress.

“I guess we’re back to that stupid nonsense huh?” I asked jokingly, doing my best to sound kind and playful.

“Whatever gringa, nothing’s changed. That position is still mine and you mean nothing to me.” She hissed as she took her top off before throwing her practice uniform on, still facing away.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little put off that she was acting this way toward me but deep down I wasn’t really surprised. I mean what happened happened because of the situation right? We weren’t really attracted to each other before but I was naked she got wet I got wet and then the next thing you know we’re rubbing around on top of each other. That’s just gonna create sexual attraction between two fairly attractive women. Right?

I mean, I’ve read plenty of articles that say more women have homosexual tendencies than men and that more women experiment with women than men do with men. So it’s just natural that that happened, right?

I put my feelings aside, got ready for practice, and went out to the field. The coach was batting grounders to Riley, who was throwing them at an empty first base with a net behind it to collect the ball.

“Mind if I step in?” I asked Riley and Coach.

“Sure, Riley, why don’t you step over to the first base and give Becca an opportunity?” Coach ordered.

Riley, albeit, rejectingly obeyed.

Coach shot a line drive toward second base. I was able to dive for it get up on my knees and send a perfect pitch flying to Riley. She purposely did not catch it

“Come on you gotta get those Rile.” The coach said using her name as if it was a nickname.

Coach hit another one, this time a little bit shallow, and I had to run up on it and barehand it and throw it all in one big motion. It was this kind of play that I thrived on. I loved plays that required skilled finesse and timing. Plus if executed correctly, it makes you look really good. Again a perfect throw of first, and again Riley ignored it and let it fall.

“Come here you two!” Coach barked at us walking up to the mound.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you. If it’s just a friendly competition or if you both hate each other. But you both are very good at what you do and I’m sure we will interchange you at shortstop. But it’s not about who is the better shortstop it’s about who is a better teammate. Remember it’s not just scouts seeing you play, it’s my word as well. They will come up to me and ask me about your character, and about your willingness to help the team win no matter what that means. If you can’t take on change and you can’t sacrifice your desires for the betterment of the team, you have no use to me.” Coach said looking us back and forth.

“Riley switch with Becca and let’s do it again.” She ordered.

I jogged over the first put my foot on the bag and waited for the play. Coach sent a hopper over to Riley which she was able to snag up and throw straight to me. It was a little off to my right, so I had to stretch to catch it, but I was able to keep my foot on the bag and put my mardin escort mitt on the ball, and make the play.

“That’s what I’m talking about Becca.” Coach commended me.

Riley shrugged her shoulders mad that the coach saw my good play, but not hers.

Coach sent a blooper into right field, Riley ran and made an over-the-shoulder catch. She then hurried and threw a grounder at me. I don’t know if it was the way she jumped or the way she turned, but her throw was not great, and again I had to make a stretching play to make a decent grab.

“Excellent, both of you. Let’s switch it up again.” Coach ordered.

We switched spots and this time you could see that Riley had a different stance when standing on first.

Coach sent a bouncing ball up the middle. It hit the mound and shot off to my left. I was in the direction of moving right whenever it hit the mound so I had to adjust and grab the ball before it made its way into the outfield. I turned and jumped up. I made the catch and then made an airborne throw, which is typically very inaccurate. The ball itself wasn’t too bad, but Riley did have to stretch towards the dugout to catch it, but she did make the catch this time.

“Thatta girl,” Coach commended her.

By this time, the rest of the team started to show up and instead of doing these little drills with us, she had us all take warm-up bats.

Coach would move me and Riley around to see where we best fit. I often would find myself on first or third with Riley going from 2nd to 1st.

Their first baseman wasn’t bad, but when compared to me, or Riley, she looked very dull.

This was the last practice of the tryouts before Coach would make the announcement next week of who would start where.

“That is it ladies…thank you for your time, effort, and dedication to the sport. I will be calling those who made it by the end of the day tomorrow. Have a great weekend!” Coach dismissed us.

“Rile, Becca..a word, please.” Coach called us to the dugout.

“Obviously, you both are on the team. Neither of you will be our starting shortstop, however. I’m going to give that to Jaime. You both are better than she is at this position, but I can’t have you fighting over that spot. You will rotate between what I assign you and shortstop throughout the season, making sure to highlight you during scout visits…understand?” She asked.

Riley simply nodded, looking down at the ground.

I was shook but knew the coach had the best intentions. “Yes ma’am…what would be our starting positions?”

“Becca you will be on first with Riley at second. Sound good?” She confirmed.

We both nodded before Coach shook our hands. “Thank you for your willingness to adapt and cooperate. This will be a dominant season with you both on the field.”

Riley nodded, staying silent, and then trotted off to the locker room.

“Coach!” I called out as she followed Riley.

“Yes, Becca?”

“Just wanted to say thank you and I promise to be a leader on and off the field,” I assured her.

“I know you will.” She smiled and winked before walking away.

I sat in the dugout and stared off onto the field for 5 minutes or so… “first base? For fucks sake.”

I stood up, glove under my arm, and slowly made my way back to the locker room.

I walked in and found Coach talking with Riley at her locker and a few of the other girls chattering around the door to the showers.

I decided that I would just rinse myself off and not do a full shower today, but the other side of me was thinking if I took a full shower, Riley might join me.

I quickly got undressed, packed my practice clothes into my duffel bag, grabbed the towel from my locker, and headed to the showers.

A couple of the girls were already in here taking a shower, so I decided that if anything were to happen, it wouldn’t happen unless I took an hour-long shower, so I hopped into one of the empty stalls and proceeded to rinse my body off.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about first base. I hadn’t played this in a very long time, however, Coach made a good point that sometimes we need to adapt. And then all the possibilities started pointing their faces in my direction. “What if the starting team for whatever university I go to already has a top-tier shortstop but they don’t have a top to first base or what if the first basemen gets hurt or what if…” You can imagine what my mind was doing. So I got excited at the prospect of trying something new and doing what I could to help bring a state title home to this team.

Turning the water off, grabbing my towel, and wrapping myself up, I made my way out of the shower and into the locker room.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that Riley was still sitting at her locker, staring at her phone. There were a few other girls in the locker room as well, but they were all heading out together in a group.

I made my way to my locker, sat down, and began to dry my hair with my second towel that was in my duffel bag

“I guess you got what you want huh, puta?” I heard Riley insult me from behind.

“If you think this is what I wanted,” I started to speak up as I turned to look over my shoulder, “was for you to only not get shortstop. You’re sadly mistaken. I wanted to be the starting shortstop. Neither one of us got what we wanted.”

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

Since that night I spent with Charles I have been thinking about nothing else but our time we spent together and hoping that we could get together again real soon. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Charles called me on a Wednesday and asked if I was available to help him move some stuff up to his cabin up north this weekend. I jumped at the chance, checked with the wife to see if we were busy and found out nothing was going on. I told Charles I was free and he said he would pick me up around 7 pm that coming Friday. I couldn’t wait.

Charles picked me up right at 7pm that Friday and we headed north. Charles cabin is a very comfy, secluded, small log cabin, located in the heart of national forest about 4 hrs north of our house. We chatted all the way up there, telling each all about our workweek and how much we both looked forward to a 2 days of relaxing, that is after we unloaded the stuff he wanted to bring up there. Not a word was mentioned about our lust we had for each other, but both knowing that soon we would bee exploring each other again. Just thinking about what lies ahead, and what was inside his pants made my cock stir and want out…

We made good driving time getting therein less than 4 hours, unloaded the stuff in record time and finally had sat down cracked open a few beers and started to relax and watch some TV. Soon we were both yawning and commenting that we should hit the rack and get some sleep. There wasn’t even a word spoken, Charles escort dudullu got up, grabbed my hand and led me into his bedroom. He took my shirt and pants off, exposing my tented underwear. My breath was heavy as he sucked and licked my nipples. Teasing them with is tongue he knew it was driving me wild. I began removing his shirt and pants, fell to my knees and nibbled his cock through his underwear. He moaned and said how wonderful my hot breath felt on his now rock hard cock. I pulled his cock free from its restraints and slowly stroked his manhood. Down his shorts went to release his balls. Giving them a squeeze I could tell he was far from Cumming.

I stood up, pulled my shorts down and we held each other, hold each other tight saying how much we desired to be together again. Our cocks were as one as we kissed, both dripping with pre cum and throbbing wanting release. He broke our kiss, led me to the shower. We climbed in, adjusted the water and soon we were washing each other. Our bodies we sliding on each other as we soaped each other up, taking time to wash our cocks and balls with desire and passion. As I washed his back, I closed in and held him from behind, feeling the warm of his ass cheeks against my cock. I reached around; kissing is neck as I played with is a nipple while pulling his body back into mine. Reaching down grabbed his cock and was truly amazed on how large he is. Stroking his cock, istanbul bayan escort he moaned and said that we should get out of here and head to the bedroom.

Soon we were lying in bed, my leg across his lap and my head on his chest. We kissed, playing with each other cocks. Climbed up on him, laying my full weight on him, feeling our cocks rub on each other. Our tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths, licking each other’s lips, feeling the softness of our new love for each other.

Soon he had me on my back, telling me that he wants make love to me, fill my wanting ass with his throbbing cock, fuck me hard and soft, look at me as he slides his cock so deep into me that I cry with desire. Love me until I he cannot take it anymore, filling my love hole with his man juice, watching me squirm and beg for more.

Wrapping my legs around him, I pull him down to me, kiss him forcefully and beg him to love me like only he knows how to. The feel of his mouth on my neck as he lightly kissed me, the feel of his body on my body had me begging for his cock. We were locked in a tangle of man love as he slowly worked his way down my body, making sure he licked and kissed every inch of my now sweat covered skin. He took his time as he grabbed my cock slowly lowering his mouth all the way down to my balls, sucking hard as he came back up, making sure to add extra suction when he came to the head on my now purple cock. Working escort kozyatağı my cock in and out of his mouth, he slowly inserted a finger into my wanting man pussy. Moaning I said please fuck me, fuck me hard and fuck me fast. Working my cock in his mouth, he brought me to the edge of pleasure, only to stop at the very moment of release. In time my love he told me as he reached onto the nightstand, grabbed some lube and greased his raging cock and my pulsating asshole. Spreading my legs, exposing my manhole for him, he pushed his throbbing member into my wanting, relaxed hole, slowly pushing his cock deeper and deeper into my ass.

Moaning with oh so good pain, I lifted my hips to meet his cock. Soon he was buried deep, his balls resting on my ass cheeks and he began to pump my ass. His balls we slapping my ass every time he buried his cock deep into me. Ride me fucker, ride me like the little bitch that I am I screamed as he slammed his cock into me. Grabbing my cock, I started yanking it with the rhythm of his cock slamming into to me. He slowed down as I screamed that I was Cumming, moving his cock slowly in and out I let loose with my first shot of juice all over my belly. Charles reached down and scooped up my cum with his fingers, feeding it tome as I shot more loads of my love goo. Our lips met, sharing my cum between us. He started fucking me harder, telling me that my ass is so tight around his cock. I rode his cock, pinching his nipples, watching is massive cock go in and out of my hole. I soon felt his cock swell, he picked up the pace and began to fill my ass with cum, so much that it was spilling out of my ass as he continued to fuck me. He fell on me, our bodies covered with sweat and cum and drifted off to sleep with dreams of what the morning will bring with my Charles…

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