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My friend Alana had just spilled her guts, and then some. She confessed one thing I secretly already knew: that she was into women now. Then she described in vivid, exciting detail her first time making love to a woman. After the story, she went to explain that she was using our trip to Vegas—which we were still en route to via a red-eye commercial flight—to discover if she was, in fact, a lesbian, bi-sexual, or, as she put it, “just going through a phase”.

She was 26, and I was 20. We had always been close despite our age differences. Her mom was a close family friend, and she left Alana in my parents’ care when she died from cancer when Alana was just 13. Then, when my parents died in a car accident when I was 16, they left me to Alana. By that time we were more brother and sister than anything, and rather than Alana looking after me, we just looked after each other.

I’d been close to Alana for my whole life, and I was still shocked to hear her talk about these things so freely. We never talked much about sex before, and I found it particularly surprising that she confided in me her plans to use this vacation as a sexual experiment.

While I appreciated her openness and drooled over her sexy story, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Obviously, since it was only the two of us on this trip, it was going to be an awkward few days for me if all Alana was going to do was pick up guys. I would have to constantly find things to do by myself whenever Alana started picking up men, or if she got picked up.

And even though we had a room with two beds reserved, I knew it would be too awkward for me to be in the room if she was having sex. I’d either have to wander through the night, or hope that she stayed in her would-be one-night-stand’s room. Either way I’d be alone. Most people might not have a problem being alone in a crazy town like Las Vegas, but at 20, I wasn’t old enough to drink or gamble. And with the various women I had waiting for me back home, I wasn’t willing to empty my wallet for strippers.

My other problem was more serious, to say the least. While Alana had revealed her secret of bi-sexuality, I had a secret of my own. A much bigger secret that I planned to keep: I was growing increasingly attracted to her. It had started at the same time I found out she was having sex with women; I had spied her through the neighbor’s window, in a 69 with my unattainable crush, Autumn. Since that day, Alana had been sneaking into my sexual thoughts and fantasies more and more until finally I had to admit to myself that I was crushing on her, too.

When Alana told me the story of her first lesbian encounter, she couldn’t have had any idea what a turn on that was for me. But the thought of her spending all weekend with other men…It would make me both jealous AND horny. Even now, sitting at the rear of the nearly empty passenger jet, my erection was threatening to punch a hole through the fuselage.

Next to me, taking a sip of a Jack and Coke, Alana was fortunately too buzzed or too excited about the state of things to notice my bulge. Her nipples jutted out from her full, D-cup tits, straining against the fabric of her tight, red, low-cut shirt. Her face was slightly flushed, and the smile she wore gave no sign of fading any time soon. Apparently her story had gotten her quite aroused as well.

I jumped when she turned to me, hoping she didn’t catch me eyeing her cleavage. But she didn’t appear to notice, and simply placed her drink on my tray.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, putting up her tray and unbuckling her seat belt. She pointed to the empty cup that she had stuffed in the magazine pouch . “If the guy comes by again, order me another one.” She smiled brightly.

I nodded, smiled back, and watched as she wiggled her ass out of our row and into the aisle. My God, I thought. How could I have been ignorant to that beautiful body for so long? How could I not have noticed her maddeningly cute face, her infectious smile, her perfect teeth and skin? She was 5’10, athletic, with flowing blonde hair and the kind of legs a guy prays to feel wrapped around him.

I’m not picky when it comes to women. There is no type of girl that I covet more than another. Blonde, brunette, tall, short; it’s all good with me. But even still, if I were just another guy and not the kid she was raised with, I would have been jerking off to thoughts of Alana years ago. So why had I only started noticing now?

Of course, I had noticed before. I wasn’t blind. The difference was that before she was just Alana, whom I loved dearly, but never lusted after. But after seeing her have sex with our neighbor, I became aware of a new side of her. A side that was just as alien to me as if she were a complete stranger. That day Alana became sexy Alana, and that image was impossible to erase.

Unconsciously, I grabbed my hard-on through my jeans, gave it a few quick strokes, hesitated, then gave myself a few more. Finally I stopped and readjusted myself, hoping to calm down.

“You really want her, huh?”

The bursa sınırsız escort voice came from behind, and I jumped in my seat with surprise. I turned and looked over the back of my seat. There was no one there. As I said, the jet was nearly empty, and we sat to the rear, away from all the other passengers. Even the stewards were up front, chatting quietly with an old lady.

But I hadn’t imagined that voice, so I raised myself in my seat and strained my neck for a better look. And there she was. A fellow passenger, female, was sitting directly behind me. I hadn’t seen her because she was so short; barely over 5 feet. I knew she wasn’t there when I picked these seats, though, so how did she get past? And then it struck me. The bathroom at the back of the jet. She must have been in the bathroom when we boarded, then inadvertently snuck up on us after we were seated.

Settling with that explanation, I turned back to what she had said: That I “really want her”. My heart jumped into my throat.

She must have seen me stroke my cock through the space between the seats. But even more alarming than that was the simple fact that, sitting so close, she must have heard Alana’s entire story.

“If you want my advice,” she continued, “I’d say go for it. Because she’s into you, too.”

Of course this possibility—that Alana was into me—was something I already suspected. Long story short, I had heard her call out my name during a drunken sex session with her girlfriend. But I tired not to rest my fantasies on that weak detail. I kept this to myself, and played dumb for the passenger.

“What do you mean?” I stammered.

“Are you kidding? That story even got me hot! No one tells a story like that to just anyone. She wanted to turn you on. If not on purpose, than subconsciously. So I say if you want to go to the next level, if you want to be more than friends, the ball is in your court. Or balls, I guess.” She laughed.

I was shocked by her boldness, but it felt good to have someone to talk to about this. She was, after all, a stranger who I would probably never see again after this flight, and the fact that she referred to Alana and I as “friends” reaffirmed my suspicion that she didn’t know we were much closer. I unclasped my seat belt, put my knees on my seat, and turned to face her.

While she was very short and her body was tiny, there would have been no mistaking her for a juvenile. She had the beauty of a pageant queen, with facial features that made her look not like a high school student, but like a spunky young soccer mom. Her blonde hair was much lighter and shorter than Alana’s, and it was loosely pulled back in a ponytail. And while her breasts were so small that I couldn’t even see their bulges beneath her sweatshirt, the woman’s gray eyes gave her an irresistibly sexy, mysterious quality. I guessed her to be Alana’s age, mid-twenties or so—but when I turned to face her, she looked as excited as a schoolgirl.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Don’t let her catch you talking to me. You might blow it.”

I smiled back. “I wouldn’t worry about that. You really think she’s into me?”

The woman had been holding a paperback, but she set it aside and leaned forward to answer. “Let me put it this way. If I told you that story, then said I was going to Vegas to find some dick, wouldn’t you hit on me relentlessly until the end of the flight?”

“Hell, I’d probably follow you to your hotel,” I joked.

She laughed. “And do you think I could blame you for hitting on me?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. She wants you to be the guy, Gavin. That’s your name, right? I thought I heard her say it.”

“Yeah. Gavin.” I offered my hand. She shook it with her small, delicate hand, which had a surprisingly firm grip.

“I’m Melanie. And I’m married.” She smiled, then turned her hand to show me the wedding band. Before I could come up with a response, she said, “So forget all about me, and concentrate on her. But remember what I said. Oh, and sorry about eavesdropping. I’m such a jerk.”

We both slumped back into our chairs as we heard the bathroom door creak open just five rows behind. Melanie stuck her nose back in her book, and I fumbled with my seatbelt and my erection that had yet to go away.

Alana returned to her seat, completely composed—though with her stiff movements, she was almost too composed. Then she slowly leaned toward me, eyes facing forward, and whispered.

“Someone is sitting behind us.”

I pretended to be surprised.

Alana continued, talking quietly out of the corner of her mouth. “Has she been there the whole time?”

“Well, she didn’t board mid-flight, if that’s what you mean.”

Alana shot me a look and a sarcastic smile. “Then she heard—”

“Everything.”

“Everything. Oh my God.”

I could tell Alana didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t tell if she really wanted to do anything. Surely she knew it was harmless for this stranger to know her secret—a secret that would eventually come out, anyway. bursa üniversiteli escort Embarrassing, yes. But harmless. Yet there was a very awkward silence as I waited for her to say something.

Instead of speaking, and perhaps out of curiosity, Alana gave a quick glance between the seats for another look at the eavesdropper. But at that same moment, Melanie had been peering over her book at Alana, and their eyes met. Alana spun around, speechless, but Melanie apparently felt she had no choice but to respond to the situation directly. She stood up and entered the aisle, standing over Alana.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I know none of that was meant for my ears, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Alana couldn’t take her eyes off the floor, her head hung in humiliation. “It’s not your fault. I should have looked around more. Or just kept my mouth shut.” I noticed she was smiling, on the verge of laughter, it seemed, so at least she was taking this with a positive spin.

Melanie squatted down, coming closer to eye level with Alana, who still wouldn’t look up.

“I know what you’re going through, Alana, and don’t think I’m going to judge you or anything,” Melanie said in the sweetest, most soothing voice. She put a hand on Alana’s knee and rubbed it. “In fact, I’m kind of on your team.”

What the Hell?

Not wanting Alana to know that Melanie and I had already become acquainted, I hid my surprise at hearing this.

“You’re gay?” Alana asked.

“Actually I’m bi.”

I saw Alana glance at the wedding band on Melanie’s finger and she smiled wide.

“What’s your husband think about that?”

“Oh, he doesn’t. Well, he probably fantasizes about it like most guys, but he thinks I’m as straight as an arrow. I told him I was going to Vegas to visit my sister. I’m sure he’d have begged to come along if he knew I was actually going to Vegas to eat some out-of-town pussy. “

“He has no idea you like women?” Alana laughed. “You must be an ace at keeping secrets. Obviously I’m not.”

“I’ll tell him some day. Probably the day after he comes clean about fucking that waitress every chance he gets.” She sighed and looked off into space, grinning. “He’s probably doing her right now.”

“You’re not mad?” I asked, baffled.

She shrugged. “Let him have his fun. It frees me up to have mine. But enough about me. You two are much more interesting.”

Melanie stood up and motioned to the empty seat between Alana and I.

“May I?”

Before she had finished the word, Alana was happily nodding and shifting into the middle seat, freeing the aisle seat for our new friend.

“What makes us so interesting?” Alana asked.

Melanie shot a look to the front of the cabin, making sure the stewards were still occupied, then unfastened her pants. Next, she took Alana’s hand and guided it to her crotch, slipping Alana’s hand into her pants, beneath a pair of purple panties. Alana gasped, but she didn’t resist. In fact, at that moment she almost seemed to have a mini orgasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she sunk into her seat.

“You feel that?” Melaine said.

Alana licked her lips. “Yeah…”

“You feel how wet I am?”

Alana just nodded, still licking her lips.

“That’s how hot your story made me.”

Alana opened her eyes and stared lustfully at Melanie. It was as if I had simply disappeared. But I was eager to see where this would lead, so I stayed quiet.

“Can I…” Alana asked, cutting herself off.

I saw Melanie suddenly tense up, then close her eyes and sink into her chair like Alana just had. I knew then what had happened. Alana had pushed at least one finger into Melanie’s cunt, possibly more. Melanie moaned softly, then opened her eyes and stared dreamily at Alana. As if in a trance, Alana leaned forward and kissed Melanie softly on the lips. Melanie kissed her right back, the two of them getting more intense with each passing second.

I knew Alana was buzzing hard from the drinks, but I was still surprised that she was doing this in front of me. Maybe Melanie was right. Maybe she really was trying to turn me on.

Alana broke the kiss and began slowly licking her way down Melanie’s neck. I expected at least for Melanie to look at me and show me that she still remembered I was there, but her eyes stayed shut.

Alana licked at Melanie’s neck a while longer, and rubbed her inner thigh with her free hand, slowly working her way to Melanie’s crotch. The hand already at her cunt disappeared further beneath the panties, and Melanie shifted in her seat so she could spread her legs further. I watched, unblinking, as the fabric of the pants at Melanie’s crotch pulsed as Alana worked her fingers inside.

“We should probably try to control ourselves,” Alana said softly between kisses. She stifled a giggle. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

All Melanie did to reply was moan weakly.

Alana moved back to Melanie’s face, and they bursa anal yapan escort kissed passionately again. Their tongues went wild, lustfully twirling around each other, then lapping at each others lips and faces. Melanie caught Alana’s earlobe between her teeth, bit gently, then licked and sucked her way to the top. Alana’s free hand, meanwhile, was moving past Melanie’s crotch, and dipping beneath her sweater.

“I thought you wanted cock.” Melanie said, fighting for breath.

“I do…”

“But I can only give you pussy.”

“I want your pussy.”

To hear Alana talk like this, in a soft, lustful voice, was difficult to handle. On one hand I was immensely turned on. But Alana knew I was here, and, not knowing her true feelings for me, or her intentions for doing this here and now in front of me, I couldn’t be sure if she wanted me to be turned on. Did she expect me to watch? Did she expect me to leave?

But as Alana’s hand crept up beneath Melanie’s sweatshirt and cupped her small breasts, I decided that I wasn’t leaving until I was given the direct order. Like Hell if I was gonna miss this.

From the movements at the bustline of Melanie’s sweatshirt, I could tell Alana was massaging the young woman’s breasts, going from one to the other and back again. Surely she was pinching her nipples, as well, though it was difficult to tell for sure.

“You know you can’t eat me,” Melanie whispered as they made out. “Not here.”

Alana didn’t miss a beat. “But I can taste you.” And she pulled her hand out of Melanie’s panties, then brought two fingers to her mouth and sucked them between her lips.

Melanie and I watched hungrily, but it was Melanie who couldn’t hold back. I felt my dick swell noticeably as Melanie rushed forth, wildly kissing Alana with the fingers still in her mouth. Alana was quick to share her cum-coated digits, and slipped them into Melanie’s mouth. Melanie sucked hard, so hard that she made a tight slurping sound that I feared that everyone in the jet could have heard, though I saw no indication that they did.

Quickly, Alana pulled her fingers back, though Melanie fought to keep them between her lips by sucking harder. Once Alana prevailed, she dipped her fingers back under Melanie’s panties, fingered her for a few strokes, then brought her hand back out and fed them to the tiny blonde.

Melanie bobbed on the fingers excitedly, as if they were a cock. Alana pulled them out again after a moment, offering her tongue to Melanie instead. As their tongues wrestled, Alana once again fucked her new friend’s pussy with those wet fingers, and Melanie began gently bucking against her hand.

I desperately wanted to stroke my cock, if not directly, then through my pants, like before. But I didn’t want to do anything that might alarm Alana. I was so confused, so turned-on. All I could do was watch, which was more than enough, but not nearly what I wanted.

The girls continued making out passionately. Alana fingered Melanie and faster and more forcefully with each passing second. She continued to knead her small tits under her shirt. Both of them were moaning softly.

“I taste really good,” Melanie gasped, as if surprised. “Can I taste my pussy again?”

Alana said nothing, but quickly pulled her hand out from Melanie’s pants and offered her fingers again. Melanie sucked eagerly, with more intensity then before. Then she grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it up just far enough to reveal her tiny, braless, breasts. She was quite flat-chested, but her nipples were fat and long, and Alana’s other hand plucked them, encouraging them to grow longer.

“Lick me,” Melanie whispered, while continuing to suck Alana’s fingers.

But Alana was a step ahead. She had moved her head in position, and was already lapping forcefully at Melanie’s right tit. She pummeled the hard, thick nipple with her tongue, then sucked it between her lips. Melanie arched her back and gasped.

“Ohhh….that feels so good, Alana…” Melanie said. If she was in Heaven before, she seemed to be somewhere beyond now. “I love having my nipples sucked. I can come just from that.”

I had to crane my neck a bit to get a good view of Alana sucking Melanie’s tits, so I didn’t notice right away that Melanie was looking at me. I was shocked when our eyes met, and even more so when she didn’t look away. But I also got the feeling that she wasn’t looking at me so much as through me with those glazed over eyes.

I watched as Melanie slipped her own left hand beneath her panties and played with her cunt. Then she pulled her hand out and reached over Alana, pointing a glistening finger at me. I didn’t need a verbal order to act on this opportunity, so I leaned forward to suck her finger, tasting her sweet cum.

“Oh, Alana. Oh, Alana, Alana, Alana,” Melanie said. She closed her eyes and threw her head back. When I tried to pull back from her finger, she just pushed it back towards me. I sucked on it again.

“I’m going to…to…oh, don’t stop, Alana.”

As I sucked Melanie’s finger, I watched Alana working her hands and tongue over Melanie’s exposed tits. She was licking furiously, nipping at the flesh and squeezing the tiny mounds to make tight but shallow cleavage. Melanie’s chest had flushed deep red, a sure sign of her high state of arousal. She thrust her chest forward and threw her head back.

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

When I lost my job at the bank, I wasn’t too worried. I assumed something else would come up soon. I called around, searched the want ads, and surfed the net. It seemed as though nothing was available, at least not for someone with my limited experience. A month went by, then two – my savings were running out quickly, as the rent on my Chicago apartment was astronomical.

One bleak afternoon, after another unsuccessful day of job-hunting, I got a phone call from my mother. She knew about my situation, and I could tell she was trying to refrain from saying “I told you so.” She’d thought I was crazy to move to the big city. At any rate, she told me the high school in my old hometown had a job opening. Not a high paying position, at all – but it was something. And best of all, there was a nice little apartment available in Miss Satcher’s building that I could get for a song. I did remember Miss Satcher, didn’t I?

I thought back to my high school days. I had been a timid girl, smart but terribly shy. Miss Satcher was the only teacher who seemed to understand me. My day was spent looking forward to her art class, or wishing I was still in it. She would let me sit alone in the corner, drawing or painting with watercolors. She didn’t force me to join groups and make presentations like the other teachers did. Often she’d tiptoe up behind me, to catch a peek at my work. I remembered the way I would first become aware of her presence – by the warmth of her body. I’d feel her gentle breathing on my neck, a stray lock of hair brushing against my cheek. I secretly reveled in those moments when Miss Satcher was so close. She was late twenties or early thirties, with a gentle round figure. She may not have caught the eye of the men, but her smile sent sensations reeling through me that I didn’t know how to explain. Before leaving my small Indiana town, I’d never heard of women being attracted to other women. All I knew back then was that I lived for those moments of closeness.

My mother’s phone call set me to thinking. I was desperate for money, and to be honest, the city just wasn’t my cup of tea. I longed for the quiet tree lined streets of my younger days. The next day, after I had nearly depleted my bank account with yet another rent payment, I decided to call up the principal at my old high school. Just to see what the job would entail. He was happy to hear from me.

“Did your mother tell you about the position? She mentioned you were looking, and I knew you’d be perfect for it,” he explained. “It’s a straight clerical job, lots of paperwork, requires someone who can work well alone. I know you’re efficient, and responsible. I’d be willing to hire you immediately!”

I was taken aback, but I guess he remembered my fairly good grades. He didn’t come right out and say so, but I figured my anti-social behavior in high school had helped convince him I was suitable for the job. He named a salary, and I almost balked at the figure. It wasn’t even half what I had made at the bank – but I knew that it would cover the rent I’d have to pay with plenty left over. It seemed I had no choice. I told Mr. Barrett I’d take bursa escort bayan it, and that I’d be available to start in two weeks.

The two weeks flew by. Closing up loose ends in Chicago went so smoothly, I was beginning to think this move was ordained. I couldn’t believe how quickly I found myself back in my old hometown, starting to settle in. The apartment lease was signed on Friday, I moved in over the weekend, and I started my new job the next Monday.

Mr. Barrett welcomed me that morning, and had me train with one of the secretaries. The work seemed like it would be easy for me – just processing lots of paperwork. Soon, it was lunchtime, and the secretary said a bit too brightly, “I know you remember where the cafeteria is!” She obviously wanted to be left alone for her lunch hour.

Heading for the cafeteria, I wondered if I’d run into Miss Satcher. Was her hair still the same auburn – or would it have grayed? Would her face be wrinkled? It was only ten years since I’d seen her, but it felt much longer. I wondered if she would remember me. Grabbing a tray, I headed for the lunch line. Standing at the counter, I sensed the familiar presence…a warmth behind me. Turning, I saw that sure enough, she was there. She smiled, took my hand and pressed it between her fingers.

“How are you, Amy? I’m so glad to see you again. I was thrilled when Principal Barrett told me you’d be working with us. You always were one of my favorite students!” Her smile was the same as it always was. There were a few more lines around her mouth, and a few more gray hairs – but I was disconcerted to feel she still had the same effect on me. However pleasant her nearness made me feel, it surely wasn’t proper for me to entertain such thoughts.

Her softness lingered in the air, and I felt it close against me – even as her hand still pressed against mine. I looked down, and noticed faint traces of paint on her fingertips. I smiled back at her. “Miss Satchel, I am so happy to be here. I am doing fine, glad to know you’re still teaching here.”

A gentle flush spread over her skin. “My dear, you must call me Emily now. No need to be calling me Miss! Would you sit with me for lunch in the teacher’s lounge? I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to these past … what is it, nine, ten years?”

I agreed, and after we filled our trays, we walked together to the lounge. Miss Satcher – Emily now – glided gracefully along beside me. I felt so awkward next to her, like a teenager again. My tongue was tied. I wanted to ask her a dozen questions, questions about her I’d never thought of asking when I was her student. I knew I wanted to hear about her life – her likes, interests, outside of this school building.

She kept up a steady stream of conversation though, and I didn’t really have to worry about coming up with things to talk about. She seemed to think me an old friend, despite my reserve. My eyes were focused on her face, so animated. In spite of what she’d said earlier about catching up on my news, it was she that caught me up with the community happenings. She seemed to be so grateful to have someone bursa bayan escort to talk to. Was it possible she didn’t have many friends among the other teachers? Hard for me to believe, with her gentle kindness.

We spent our lunch chatting. Or rather, she spent it chatting. I spent it observing her. An occasional word to let her know I was still interested in the conversation was all the encouragement she needed. She intoxicated me. I watched her mouth – her lips were thin, but soft. Her skin was smooth – sprinkled with freckles. Bold, intelligent blue eyes would have dominated her face if not for the glasses she wore. And the gentle turn of her nose made me want to kiss it. I started a bit in my chair, unnerved at the thought I’d just had. Wanting to kiss Miss Satcher’s nose – was I daft? But indeed, as I listened and watched, I recognized that what I’d felt for her in the past was still there. And more disturbing, I recognized the feeling for what it was.

Too soon, lunch was over, and I knew I had to return to my desk. Emily had offered to help me settle in to my apartment. My place was right over hers. I wasn’t sure I’d be comfortable with her appraising my things – but I also knew I could use her decorative touch. I suggested we get together on the weekend, so she could give me advice. I thought I’d need the time to sort out my feelings toward her.

The afternoon was as uneventful as the morning. My workdays would be rather boring, but I didn’t mind. I figured my lunches with Emily would be the highlight of my day. And indeed, each day that week we ate together. Gradually I became more talkative around her, sharing some of my experiences in Chicago. She knew exactly how to draw me out of my shell. She was so patient, and unassuming, that I was beginning to think of her less as my old teacher and more as a close friend. The closest I’d had in a long while. We even walked back and forth to the school together. Her companionship was welcome after years spent being lonely.

As the weekend approached, I looked forward to our planned evening. On Thursday I’d cleaned as best I could around the few boxes I hadn’t had time to unpack. We walked home together that Friday afternoon, and she stopped by her place to change. I hopped up the steps to my apartment. Inside, I took the chicken I would be baking out of the fridge. I was fairly worried that Emily wouldn’t like my cooking. I’d never been good at it. After seasoning the meat as best I could, I slid the pan into the oven, then set some vegetables on to boil.

I heard her knock at the door. After letting her in, I joked with her about the state of my apartment, and my lack of cooking skills.

“Amy, you should know that doesn’t bother me, my dear. I’ve got enough talent in those areas for the both of us.” Her grin was infectious, and I found my heart doing a little skip in my chest. She looked wonderful – she was wearing a casual skirt and fitted sweater. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders. The feelings I’d been experiencing around her all week hadn’t diminished.

I showed her around bursa merkez escort my small place, and she immediately started to make suggestions. A picture here, a few candles there – it was amazing what she could do. The rooms began to take on a whole different ambiance. Soft and romantic, just like her. I cursed myself for thinking about her that way. Emily had never married, but I had no reason to believe it was because she preferred women. In fact, my guess was she’d be shocked if I made good on my impulse to kiss the tip of her nose.

After an hour spent together laughing and generally enjoying one another’s company, we sat down to eat the dinner I’d tried to prepare. It actually wasn’t bad, for me. Emily just chuckled at the dry chicken and overcooked vegetables. “I can see I’ll be doing the cooking from now on,” she said, and I stared at her. Surely, she wasn’t thinking along the same lines I was. But I was starting to wonder. She had lit candles for the dinner table, and put on some soft jazz in the background. If a man had done such things, I wouldn’t question his intent. But Miss Satcher?

We managed to polish off the food, despite its less than gourmet status. When she stood up to take her dishes to the sink, I protested. “Let me take care of that, Emily, after all the help you’ve given me.”

“Nonsense, young lady. I won’t be treated like an old woman, you hear? Now you wash, and I’ll dry.” I couldn’t argue with her, so side-by-side we stood at the sink. She poked a little more fun at my cooking, and gently slapped my backside with the towel. I played along and blew some bubbles from my soapy hand at her. We giggled like schoolgirls. Some bubbles lingered on her nose, and I reached out with my dry hand to wipe them off. After feeling her skin, I couldn’t resist – my hand moved of its own accord to her cheek. I caressed her skin with the back of my knuckles. My eyes watched her face closely.

Emily’s eyes were large. I reached up with my other hand to take her glasses off. I could barely believe my boldness. I gazed at her as my fingers touched her cheek, her chin, her lips. She didn’t stop me. Her eyes closed, her lashes fluttering. Her hand reached up to mine, holding it against the side of her face. She pressed her fingers against mine like she had a mere five days ago. But this time, it was different.

She opened her eyes, and I knew it would be ok. What I read in those eyes made me lean forward – and brush my lips across her nose. I felt her breath on my neck. My lips traced their way down to her mouth. Sliding my fingers into her hair, I kissed her gently. Her arms went around me, and we clung together, our lips and bodies touching. I broke our kiss, only to move my mouth to her neck. I tasted her shoulders, back up to her jaw line, brushed her ears, and caressed her temple with my kisses. Emily moaned almost imperceptibly.

We stayed there, for what seemed hours. Our lips and tongues finding and tasting each other. My hands rubbing her back, her shoulders, her arms. The clock struck ten, and I started. The mood broke, and she stepped away from me slightly. I was terrified – terrified that she wouldn’t want this – that she wouldn’t want me. I trembled, waiting for her to speak. She just stood there, her lovely long hair tousled – her clothes snug around her body. She just stood there, and looked at me. Finally, she spoke.

“You were worth the wait – every moment of it.”

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Peggy Oxenberg paid no attention to the wide-open spaces far below California Air Express’ Las Vegas Shuttle as it made a wide banking turn that gave the passengers on her side of the aircraft a breathtaking view. With almost as many hours in the air as the pilot at the controls, the former flight attendant had seen it too many times before to be impressed.

Instead, the forty-six year old vice-president of in-flight operations concentrated on the paperwork she had brought with her to wrap up before she could enjoy her long overdue vacation. It was only two hundred and fifty miles separating Los Angeles, where she was now based at the airline’s home office, and Las Vegas, but experience told her that it would still be almost another half hour before they landed. There were always a lot of flights into Vegas on a Friday afternoon and it was normal for them to get backed up over the desert.

The light was already on for passengers to return to their seats and strap themselves in, but the short haired brunette rarely paid attention to such things. After all, since technically, she was the person responsible for all of the attendants on the plane, none of them were about to tell her she couldn’t head back to the bathroom when she wanted to.

Coming back up the aisle, Peggy made it a point to mention to the senior attendant onboard how impressed she was with the way his crew went about their jobs. It didn’t hurt to let the troops know you paid attention. Truth be told, Peggy sometimes missed the days when she traveled around the country doing the same job as the younger man she was chatting with. There was a sense of freedom about sometimes being in two or three different cities a week and living a carefree life. But nothing lasts forever, she reminded herself once again.

Halfway back to her seat, Peggy had to wait as a passenger got up to put something in the overhead compartment. Standing there, she made eye contact with a rather cute blonde haired woman in the seat next to the woman who had gotten up. With a slim build and long blonde hair below her shoulders, she looked to be in her mid-twenties. Bright blue eyes met Peggy’s emerald green’s for a moment and she returned the older woman’s smile. Then the moment passed and the young lady turned her attention back to the book she’d been reading.

That was another thing she missed from those not so long ago days, Peggy mused as the woman in the aisle sat down and she was able to continue on to her seat. Back then; she could get a lot more than a smile from a pretty woman like that. Not to say Peggy lacked for company when she wanted it nowadays, but with all the changes in her life, the more adventurous aspects of it were just memories now.

By the time she sat down and buckled her seat belt, Peggy realized that there was something more about the blonde bothering her than just a reminder of glory days. The woman seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place her. She’d literally encountered thousands of women in her professional life, but only a few had ever made any lasting impressions. And if she’d known a woman like that on a personal level, she was sure she would’ve remembered.

“Must be my imagination,” Peggy told herself as she packed away the last of her papers in her attache case. “Another sign I’m getting older.” she silently laughed.

Yet, ten minutes later, the question was still bothering her. So much so that she got back up from her seat and went back to the attendant’s station where the senior attendant was wrapping things up as well.

“Is there a problem?” Mike Boone asked when he looked up and saw her standing there.

“No, not at all,” Peggy assured him, “I’d just like to take a look at your passenger manifest for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

Mike hesitated for a few seconds, for which Peggy gave him credit. That wasn’t the sort of thing you normally shared with the passengers. Then again, she wasn’t exactly a passenger either, he justified as he took the list out of the drawer and handed it to her.

It only took a second for Peggy to run her finger down the seating chart and find the name, Samatha Owens. A name that drew a total blank to her. Chalking it all up to the imagination it probably was, she thanked Mike and handed it back to him. On the way back to her seat, she made it a point to walk up the other aisle. Taking a last look at Ms. Owens as she passed her row, Peggy still felt like she knew her from somewhere.

“That just shows me that I’m working too hard and I haven’t gotten laid in far too long,” Peggy grinned as she strapped herself in for the last time. Hopefully, the weekend in Las Vegas would take care of both problems.

-=-=-=-

One great advantage to being a VIP of sorts on the twice daily flight, was that Peggy was off the plane before just about anyone else, and her luggage was waiting for her by the time she got to the terminal. Along with a cab that got her to her hotel while others were still waiting for their suitcases. By the time bursa escort any of them reached their hotel check ins, Peggy had already unpacked, changed into a comfortable, sleeveless black blouse and a cream colored skirt, and was heading for the casino to try her luck.

“There has to be some mistake,” Peggy heard a woman’s voice say as she crossed the lobby.

She automatically turned in the direction it had come from. In this case, the front desk she had checked in at a short time before. Normally, she would’ve just continued on her way, but Peggy found herself stopping in her tracks when she saw that the voice belonged to the woman from the plane.

Curious, and in no real hurry to lose her money at the blackjack table, Peggy moved a little closer to see what was going on. She walked up to the small display of pamphlets on the far end of the counter, picking one up about helicopter tours and pretended to read it.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I’ve checked it twice,” the white haired desk clerk, whose name tag read George, said as he looked away from his computer screen. “We don’t have any reservation for a Samantha Owens.”

“But I know the girl who does our company’s travel arrangements made the reservation,” Samantha insisted. “It has to be there.”

The clerk gave a shrug of his shoulders, as if he believed that the woman was just another person who’d shown up without a reservation and was trying to bully her way into a room. He’d seen it too many times to give it credence, but he went through the motions and checked a third time, with the same results.

“Wait a second,” Samantha said before he could move on to the guest who was waiting behind her to check in, “check under Thomas, Samantha Thomas, they might have put it under there.”

The blond haired businesswoman remembered at the last minute that she’d recently informed the personnel director that she planned to go back to using her maiden name now that her divorce was final. That might be the reason for the mix-up.

“Sorry, no Thomas either,” the exasperated clerk said as he now insisted that Samantha step aside and let those with valid reservations check in.

“Oh my God!” Peggy gasped as the memory she had been trying to earlier recall suddenly became crystal clear.

The name might not have hit home with the hotel clerk, but it certainly did with Peggy. The girl had only been nineteen when she’d met her for a brief moment some five years before, but she’d made a quite lasting impression.

It had been on Flight 109, the redeye out of Newark to Los Angeles, and now that she’d made the mental connection, Peggy remembered it like it was yesterday. Samantha had been one of the two women who’d had an in-flight sexual encounter in the bathroom while most of the other passengers dozed their way cross-country.

One of the reasons Peggy remembered the incident so clearly was, aside from having been incredibly turned on by them as she listened outside the door, the then senior flight attendant had given her card to the older of the two, Barbara Logan, as she disembarked. On the back of the card had been her number and an invitation to dinner. An invitation that the New York based lawyer had taken her up on.

Much more satisfying activities had followed dinner, to be repeated two more times while both of them were in Los Angeles. They had never crossed paths again, but the memory of that weekend had remained in her mind. How amazing it was, Peggy thought as she put the flyer back in the cardboard holder, to run into the other half of that daring duo after all this time.

“Excuse me,” the older brunette said as she stepped up to the center of the countertop, ignoring the people that had been waiting behind Samantha. “Is there a problem?”

Normally, the man behind the desk would’ve been further annoyed, but he immediately recognized Peggy as being an official with an airline that put up its crews at the hotel, even keeping a room all the time for emergencies. Ignoring the man behind Samantha who was trying to hand him his reservation confirmation, the clerk gave Peggy his undivided attention.

He quickly outlined the girl’s problem, and insisted that while he was of course sympathetic, there really wasn’t much he could do. It was Friday, after all, and the hotel was fully booked as it was. Perhaps the young lady could try one of the lesser-known establishments?

“I think that maybe you just aren’t looking in the right places,” Peggy suggested, along with the thought that maybe if he couldn’t find this young woman a room, which obviously someone on the hotel staff had misplaced the reservation for, then perhaps the manager might be able to find one.”

“No Ma’am,” I’m sure that there won’t be any need to involve him in this,” came his quick reply after Peggy voiced her thoughts.

Peggy let him squirm for a minute or two, using the time he checked the list of rooms again to fully take in the younger woman who now looked at her with a sense of deliverance. bursa ucuz escort

“You were on the plane.” she said as she recognized Peggy.

“Yes I was,” she smiled back before turning again to the clerk, the look on her face now saying she expected an answer.

“Ma’am, I have looked at every room we have in this place,” George said in frustration, “and we don’t even have a utility closet that we could put a cot in.”

Peggy hadn’t really expected any different answer, although she didn’t appreciate the crude imagery he used to emphasize the point. She had merely been using the time to come up with an alternative of her own.

“Does that include the rooms that were reserved for the California Air crews?” Peggy asked.

“Yes it does,” he replied. “All six rooms are being used.”

“Being used, or filled up?” Peggy asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well,” George said, his tone reflecting the fact that he’d not taken that into consideration. “Both you and Mr. Boone have rooms to yourself, as do Captain McCarthy and Mr. Wilson. The others are all doubled up.”

All three of the men he mentioned had private rooms based on their seniority. Technically, as a vice-president, Peggy could move them around if she wished. McCarthy and Wilson were pilots and it wasn’t a good idea to play with their prerogatives. The fly boys were often touchy about things like that. Mike Boone, on the other hand, was in her chain of command and she was sure he wouldn’t mind being put in the position where she owed him a favor.

“Well, why don’t we do this,” Peggy suggested, “have one of the bellhops move my things into Mr. Boone’s room, then this young lady can have mine.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Samantha immediately interjected.

“Hush,” Peggy said to her as she held up her index finger for emphasis.

George looked at Peggy for a moment, considering what his own manager would make of it all. Not that he wanted to call and get his opinion. He also wondered why the airline official was so willing to share a room with a male subordinate.

As he called for one of the bellhops, George came up with two possible explanations. One, that the older woman had something going on with the quite attractive young man he remembered from other visits to the hotel. Or, that the young man was a little too attractive and had no interest in women at all, making it perfectly safe for her to share a room.

Had she been able to read his mind, Peggy could’ve assured George that neither was the case. The last man she had been intimate with was three decades in the past, back in high school. As for Mike Boone not being interested in women, one of the reasons he liked being a flight attendant was that it allowed him to keep the large number of women he was involved with far apart from each other. His story was the modern equivalent of the old girl in every port.

It also now occurred to Peggy that Mike being Mike, and this being Vegas, he undoubtedly already had something, or someone, lined up for this evening. If that was the case, then Mr. Boone was about to learn that sometimes, one had to make sacrifices, no matter how much they hurt. It was a lesson Peggy had learned herself over the years.

“Please, Miss …” Samantha started to say, then realized that she didn’t even know the name of the woman who had come to her aid.

“Peggy, Peggy Oxenberg,” she offered, pausing a breath to see if there was any recognition. A foolish thought really, since they had never actually been introduced.

“Miss Oxenberg, I really can’t take your room,” Samantha said, her voice reflecting the gratitude of the offer, “as much as I need someplace to stay. If you really want to be that generous, let me share it, and pay half the cost.”

“The room is already paid for,” Peggy said. “I work for the airline.”

“Then let me show my appreciation in another way,” Samantha offered.

Peggy had to bite her tongue to keep from saying the first thing that popped into her head. The mental image was bad enough to evoke a physical reaction between her legs.

“Why don’t I take you out to dinner?” the blonde went on. “I don’t know about you, but that snack they served on the plane really wasn’t worth what we paid for it.”

“You do remember that I just said that I work for that airline.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“That’s okay, I thought it was somewhat lacking as well,” Peggy grinned.

Samantha smiled back with relief.

“Okay, this is what we are going to do,” Peggy said as she now included George once again in the conversation. “This young lady and I are going out to dinner, assuming of course the hotel restaurant doesn’t have a problem seating us as well.”

“No Ma’am,” George insisted, “I’ll call ahead personally.”

“Good,” Peggy said. “As I was saying, while we go out to dinner, you can have your bellman here move her luggage up to my room. We’ll wait until we get back bursa elit escort from dinner until we decide anything else, but I’d like you to explain what’s going on to Mr. Boone when he checks in. So that if I do need the spare bed in his room, he can adjust his schedule accordingly. Is that simple enough?”

George quickly agreed, and was more than relieved when the two women set off in the direction of the restaurant, leaving him to finally take care of the small backlog that had formed behind them. Thankfully, few of the other guests seemed too put off by the delay. In fact, some had found his obvious distress somewhat entertaining.

-=-=-=-

As busy as the hotel obviously was, they didn’t really need the desk clerk’s call to be assured a table. Many of the guests, at least those not practically living in the casinos, preferred the low cost buffets to a sit down dinner. Knowing this, Peggy suggested that Samantha follow her bags up to the room and take the time to shower and change into something more comfortable. Which in this case turned out to be an outfit much like Peggy’s, only in red and white.

The call had been enough, however, to point out Peggy as someone the hotel management wanted to keep happy. With that in mind, they were met at the restaurant entranceway a half hour later by the hostess. She quickly showed them to one of the more preferred tables, away from the noise of both the kitchen and the casino. The long haired brunette assured them that their waitress would be along in a few moments.

“This is really very nice,” Samantha said as she looked around the half filled room.

“Aside from the self important nincompoop at the desk, this is really a good place to stay.” Peggy replied.

“I really did have a reservation,” the younger blonde said, feeling a little defensive.

“I never doubted that you did,” Peggy smiled back, putting to rest any thought to the contrary.

“My, look at all these choices,” Samantha said as she opened one of the menus the hostess had left. “Everything looks so good.”

“Might I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“The veal scaloppini here is so good that it almost melts in your mouth,” Peggy said. “That is if you like veal.” she added, realizing that for all she knew, Samantha could just as well be a vegetarian.

“That sounds excellent,” Samantha said as she closed the menu and laid it flat on the table.

Peggy followed suit, deciding she would have that as well. She was about to ask Samantha what brought her to Las Vegas when they were interrupted by the appearance of their waitress. On her tray, she was carrying two glasses of wine.

“Compliments of the house,” she said as she laid them out on the table.

“That was nice of them,” Samantha said.

“It’s nice to see you back, Miss Oxenberg,” the twenty-something waitress said as she slid the now empty tray under her arm and took out her order pad.

The use of her name caused Peggy to look up and see the woman. not just the uniform. Normally, that wasn’t something she was guilty of, but she had been giving Samantha her full attention.

“Oh hi, Bridgett,” Peggy said to the buxom blonde once she recognized her. “It’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was you at first. I guess I was a little preoccupied.”

“That’s okay, I understand.” the waitress replied with a knowing smile as she glanced in Samantha’s direction.

Whereas many people in her profession usually remembered you by the amount you tipped, Peggy knew from the look Bridgett gave Samantha that she also recalled her by the number of times the older woman had dined here with various women across from her. While women weren’t her partners of preference, it was obvious to Bridgett that they were Peggy’s. Once she had realized that, the blonde made it known as nicely as she could, it wasn’t the way she liked to play. She didn’t have any reason to think Peggy might be interested in her, but some things were best said out front she always thought.

“This is Samantha Owens,” Peggy said as she introduced her dining companion. “We sort of met on the plane ride here and I was helping her sort out a problem with her reservation.”

It was important for Peggy that Bridgett not automatically conclude that Samantha fell into the same category as the other women she had seen her with. It would be wrong, she thought, to make assumptions based on a single incident so many years before.

“You’re the two that gave George such a hard time at the front desk,” Bridgett said with an appreciative grin, proving once again that nothing travels faster than gossip. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer asshole,” she added in a lower voice. “It’s amazing that they didn’t fire him a long time ago.”

She quickly took their orders, promising to make sure the chef gave them special attention. Peggy took a taste of the wine, after which Samantha did the same.

“By the way, it’s Thomas, not Owens,” she said as she put down the glass. “I guess I have to get used to that again.”

“Bad divorce?” Peggy asked.

“Is there a good kind?” Samantha asked in turn.

“I guess not,” Peggy replied, even though she knew of a few instances where divorce was the best course of action for everyone concerned.

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This story is intended to continue the “Massage Mat” series that began in the “Incest” category. This episode deals with Beth’s continuing emotional and sexual journey, but it can be read separately.

If you haven’t read chapters 1-3, the plot thus far is that Beth, a widow, and Jason, her son, have begun an incestuous romantic relationship that was consummated for the first time at the end of part three.

Incest fans: There isn’t any in this chapter but stay tuned…there is more of that to come, with some (hopefully fun) plot twists mixed in.

If you’re more interested in reading for sex scenes than for plot, there are two (hopefully hot) lesbian scenes in here, but there’s no way to get “Massage Mat” to continue without some character and plot development. Feel free to fast forward until you get to the good parts.

But if you’re interested in what happens to Beth, I hope you enjoy the journey!

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

The weeks and months after Jason and I began our romantic relationship had been the happiest of my life. Even my friends and co-workers noticed the change in me.

“My God, Beth,” exclaimed Lori one day, “you are like a giddy teenager. Do you have a secret lover or something?”

“Dozens,” I replied, laughing. Then I made a serious face, “Yeah. I wish. Actually, I’m living a life of celibacy,” I lied. “I just feel really good lately.”

Of course in reality Jason and I had been fucking ourselves senseless. He’d never had sex before our first time, and I had been starved for half a decade, so we went at it constantly. I wondered what would happen to us once the novelty of the intense sex began to lose its charm. Well, I thought, that wasn’t going to be an immediate problem. There was no sign that we’d be letting up anytime soon.

I also thought a lot about how this would affect Jason’s life. I didn’t want our…our what? Affair? God, that word made my skin crawl. I didn’t want our…relationship…to damage his chances for a happy future.

I realized that I was thinking more like a mother again, and mentally thanked Jason for helping me to regain the strength that I had lost. I knew that I would never let anything or anyone—including me—damage his future happiness.

That resolution was put to the test a few nights later when Jason announced that he wanted me to meet someone after his hockey game. As usual, he played really well, and when he came out of the locker room, his coach came with him along with another, older man.

Jason’s coach introduced the distinguished-looking older man to me. “Beth, this is the head coach of the University of _____________, hockey team. Right now, they’re ranked number three in the nation and are one of the favorites to win the national championship. Coach D’Amico, this is Mrs. Miller.” The older coach got straight to the point.

“Mrs. Miller, I have a very busy schedule, but I took the time to fly out here to watch Jason play in person,” the coach began, “Our scouts have been driving me crazy for months saying how great they think he is. Between you and me, I just came up here to get a little peace and quiet,” he joked. We all laughed. He was a very personable guy. Then he turned serious and looked directly at me as he continued.

“Your son is truly a very talented hockey player. He’s pretty rough around the edges, but has great skills and vision on the ice. He’s also got the things that can’t be taught—an instinctive feel for the game and amazing leadership qualities. I think he can contribute a great deal to our program, and I believe we can develop him to the point that he’d have a legitimate chance to play in the National Hockey League.

“Don’t get me wrong—I don’t think he’s a future Sidney Crosby—but he has the potential for a solid career for a number of years if things work out. We’ve therefore decided to offer Jason a scholarship. I believe it’s a great opportunity for him, and I hope that you will both give it serious consideration.” Then he turned to Jason.

“Son, I know you’ve been talking with my assistant coaches every couple of days. I want you to continue to do that. Let us know what you’re thinking and if you have any questions. We want to make this work for you, and we need your help to make it work. Will you help us on that?” Jason nodded, looking a little dazed. “Ok son, I’m going to hold you to your word,” the coach added looking Jason squarely in the eyes. I could tell why he was so successful—he was an incredible leader and motivator—Jason looked ready to take on the world for this guy.

And that was that. Jason was going away to become a hockey player, and I was going to do whatever it took to help make his dream come true—even though it would take the great love of my life away from me for a time.

At first, Jason wanted to turn down the scholarship to stay with me. I was thrilled, but after a sleepless night, I knew what I had to do. We had a long talk, and I helped him to see that our future together would be brighter if he took bursa escort this opportunity—and that he would never be happy if he didn’t. I loved him so much that I would have given my life for him in an instant. Four years apart to establish a firm basis for our life together was a small sacrifice by compairison.

I also made another decision. I wanted Jason to date girls his own age while he was away. I knew that he needed to experience more of life and love if we were ever to have a normal relationship. I didn’t want to go through life as the “mom” to my man. I needed him to be a man: a strong, sure, confident leader to whom I could submit—and who I would support with every fiber of my being.

And that could only happen if Jason left the nest, conquered his own world and returned to me. I knew it was a risk, but I was willing to take it. I wanted him more than I had wanted anything in my life, and I would do anything necessary to make this relationship work for the long haul.

As wonderful as it felt to make these noble sacrifices for our future happiness, helping Jason move away to college was the hardest thing I had ever done. After losing Dan, I felt like I was having another piece of my heart torn out. When it came time for me to head back home alone, we both sobbed in each other’s arms. Only the fact that I’d return for a visit in a month made the parting bearable at all.

When I got back to town, I couldn’t face going home to an empty bed. I phoned Lori.

“Hey, can I come over for a minute?” I asked.

“Of course, Beth,” she replied, “You know you’re welcome anytime.”

As soon as Lori opened the door, a look of concern crossed her face.

“Oh my God, Beth,” she said, giving me a hug, ” what is the matter?”

Of course, I couldn’t tell her the real problem—that I was devastated because my son wasn’t around to fuck me four times a day. I did, though, manage to come close to the truth.

“Lori, I just moved Jason up to school and I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel so lonely and….and… There is just a big hole in my life right now,” I said, beginning to cry.

Lori reached out and hugged me. “You’re so tense,” she exclaimed, “Your whole body seems like it’s going to explode.” Like only a true friend could, Lori comforted me and made me feel better. When I left, she made me promise to have dinner with her and John the next night.

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

“That was a great dinner, and the company was even better,” I said with real gratitude. “I know you guys didn’t have to include me on your date night, but I’m so glad you did.”

“Beth, it was really fun to have you with us. We always enjoy spending time with you,” John said warmly. Then he turned to his wife.

“Honey, did you bring…the surprise?” he asked.

“Of course, babe.” Lori answered, smiling. Then she reached into her purse and handed me an envelope.

“Open it,” they said, giggling. I did, and pulled out a card.

“This Gift Certificate is Good for One Massage,” it read, “at Magic Hands Massage Studio.” I looked at John and Lori with a puzzled expression.

“Lori swears by this gal,” John said. “Her name is Angie, and she apparently is a massage genius. I don’t think her massages are so amazing, but they’re good.”

“That’s because you’re a man,” teased Lori, “You don’t appreciate Angie’s talents.”

John harrumphed. “Whatever. Anyway, Beth is a woman, so I’m sure she will. Enjoy the massage, Beth.”

“You ARE going to love the massage,” Lori assured me. “You’ll feel like a new woman. We decided that you needed a little pampering and relaxation, and this was my idea. I really hope you like it.”

“Guys, this is so sweet,” I said, “I don’t deserve it, but…well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” said John. “Sometimes it’s fun to do something nice for a wonderful gal who could use a little TLC.”

I got up and hugged him. “You’re the best,” I said. I turned to Lori.

“You’re a really lucky woman,” I assured her.

“Yeah. I know. I’m really lucky,” she said taking John’s hand and kissing it. “There’s just one thing though, Beth,” she said suddenly.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Give me a call when you schedule your appointment with Angie,” she requested, “I’d just like to know when you’re going.” I assured her that I would, wondering why she cared so much about that.

The next morning I called the number on the card.

“Thanks for calling Magic Hands Massage,” a cheery voice answered.

“Hi. I just got a gift certificate for a massage, and I was wondering how I can use it,” I began. There was a pause.

“Oh. Ok. You must be Beth. I’m Angie,” the voice continued.

“How did you know who I was?” I asked.

“Well, this is not exactly a huge operation,” giggled Angie. “Actually, it’s a one-woman show. Me. So when Lori asked me about gift certificates, I first had to make one…and then she told me about you. It’s nice to meet you—telephonically at least,” escort bursa she giggled again. I decided that I liked Angie already. “We just need to find a time and you come in and get a massage. That’s all there is to it.”

“Ok,” I answered. “How long a massage is the gift for?” I asked.

“It’s for one massage,” said Angie firmly. “I don’t put time limits on them, because it just varies—sometimes someone needs more attention, sometimes it’s more like a touch-up. Almost all of my clients are regulars, so it probably averages out to about an hour and a half per massage I guess. I’m just not a clock-watcher.”

I thought for a minute. “Well, Thursday or Friday of this week could work for me if it were later in the afternoon,” I suggested. I heard a mouse clicking. Then a pause.

“C’mon you fucking thing,” I heard Angie mutter. I decided that I really liked Angie. Then she came back on the line. “Either day is open after 4:30, but how about if we do Friday?” she suggested. “That would be a better way to end your week.”

I smiled and checked the address on the card. I didn’t recognize it. “Ok. Friday it is,” I replied. “Where are you located? I don’t recognize your address.”

“Take Route 57 South,” Angie replied. “Just past the city limit, you’ll see Rodgers Rd. on your left. Turn left and look for the big yellow farmhouse on your left about ½ mile down the road. If you get to the hog farm, you went too far.”

“Ok. That will take me about 20 minutes from work and I get off at 5:00. Would 5:30 be ok?” I asked.

“Perfect,” she replied. “See you Friday at 5:30.”

The next few days were uneventful, except for some lovely conversations with Jason. He had had several good practices in a row, and the coach told him that he might dress for some home games when the season started. He was really excited about that, and it made me feel good to know that he was doing well and was happy.

“I just miss you so much, mom,” he said right before we said goodnight, “Everything would be perfect if you were here.”

“Only one month, kiddo,” I told him, “Hang in there, and we’ll have a reunion for the ages.”

“I really need you…Beth,” he said tenderly. I knew exactly what he had in mind.

“The feeling is mutual. I am going berserk without you,” I assured him, “Now sleep well and dream about me.”

On Friday afternoon at work, time seemed to have stopped. I was really looking forward to getting a massage and starting my weekend—and 5:00 seemed to never want to arrive. Finally I was able to leave. I zipped to my car and headed off for my Magic Hands massage.

On the way, I realized that I had never phoned Lori. I got my phone and hit her speed dial number.

“Hey Beth. What’s up?” Lori’s voice came over the phone.

“Well, I’m on my way to Angie’s for my massage,” I replied.

“You lucky, lucky girl. You are really going to enjoy it,” she assured me again. “I just have one piece of advice for you.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Move the towel,” Lori said simply.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, mystified.

“You’ll understand when the time comes. Just do it. Promise me that you’ll do it,” she demanded.

“Huh? Ok. I promise to move towels,” I replied without much feeling.

“Not towels. Just one. Just move THE towel,” said Lori. Then she hung up suddenly.

I was still wondering what the hell that was about when I pulled into Angie’s curving driveway. The farmhouse was impossible to miss—it was neon yellow with electric blue trim. There was a stream running next to it, and several nice flower gardens landscaped the grounds. A small sign by the front steps identified the place as the home of “Magic Hands Massage Therapy.” I climbed the stairs to the porch and read the sign on the door.

“Welcome, weary traveler,” it read, “Knock and enter.” I followed the instructions and pushed the door open gently.

“Hello?” I inquired.

“Hello to you,” came the reply. A tomboyish young woman bounced up to greet me, “I’m Angie.” She looked young, but her deep blue eyes were unusual—like the eyes of a very old and wise teacher, I thought. My first thought was that she was in her 20s, but then I thought that maybe she could be 40. I finally decided that I had no idea how old she was, and really didn’t care. I just liked her.

Her short, blonde hair was cut in a very boyish style and she wore jeans, a faded t-shirt that said “Harvard Law,” and bright red sneakers. I couldn’t help but smile at her—she seemed to be a ball of sunshine.

“C’mon back and I’ll get you set up,” she said casually, and we headed down the hall. She opened a door and we entered the most beautiful room I have ever been in.

One wall was all windows, offering a panoramic view of wildflower-covered hills rising into the distance. The other walls were painted a rich, deep blue and there were beautiful Oriental rugs on the well-used wood floor. Recessed lights bathed the room in a soft glow. A tabletop waterfall trickled bursa escort bayan in the background, and Zen massage music was playing softly. The air was suffused with a wonderful scent. Truly this was a refuge for the senses. I felt tension melting out of my body as I stood there.

“Yes. This is a beautiful space,” Angie said, answering my thoughts. Her whole demeanor had changed. The whimsical young girl had given way to a…a being…who radiated serenity. I could not believe that it was the same person, yet the tomboy with the mop of blonde hair and red sneakers was still there before me.

“I am truly blessed in many ways. It gives me great joy to share my blessings and to give joy and pleasure to others,” she continued. She rested her hand lightly on my arm.

“Welcome, Beth. I am honored to have you join me today.” Her hand lightly touched my heart and she bowed her head. Then she touched my cheek, finally resting her hand on her heart and bowing deeply.

“Please have a seat on the table and make yourself comfortable.” It was an invitation but…I felt that it was a command too. I sat before I could think.

“Have you had massages before?” she asked.

“Yes, many times,” I answered, ” and I absolutely adore them. I just haven’t found the time to get one recently.”

“It is often difficult to find time to care for ourselves,” she observed, “Nonetheless, this is your time, Beth. It is your time to seek serenity and clarity,” she said softly but with deep feeling. “I will step out and you can undress and get on the table and under the covers. We’ll begin face up, please.”

A few minutes later I was nestled, nude under soft blankets. A soft tap on the door announced Angie’s arrival. She ran her hands over the covers, feeling the contours of my body beneath them. Her eyes gazed deeply into mine. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated deeply.

“I think we should begin with some aromatherapy,” she finally said in a low voice, “I recommend lavender to release your stress.” She went to her table and took a few drops of something onto her hands, then rubbed them together briskly before holding them just over my face. “Breathe deeply and slowly. Ah…that’s it…excellent…”

The scent of the lavender relaxed me further and I felt my body melting into the covers. Angie disappeared briefly then her hands began massaging my earlobes, face and neck before moving to my shoulders…

“Beth. Beth…you can turn over now,” I heard Angie’s sweet voice whispering into my ear. Her hand rested comfortingly on my chest. I smiled drowsily.

“I think dozed off,” I muttered, blinking. I tried to turn over, but nothing moved. A second attempt yielded a slight movement of my right leg and an futile attempt to raise myself with my arms. The third try was more successful and I unceremoniously flopped onto my stomach. “Ergh. That’s better,” I grunted as Angie lowered the covers, positioned a pillow under my legs, and covered my backside with a towel.

She began to massage my back, using an incredible variety of strokes and pressures, and my muscles relaxed deeply. After doing my arms, she returned to my back, this time using lighter, longer strokes and moving downward.

“Beth, I think you would benefit from having some having some work done on your glutes along with your legs. Would you be comfortable with that?” she asked softly. It was a simple request, almost impossible to refuse.

“Mmmm. Of course, Angie,” I replied dreamily. She immediately began to work my buttocks, first through the towel then moving under it. Finally, she released every bit of tension in my legs and feet. Again, she returned to long, soft strokes, this time up and down my legs and then returning to my buttocks. She had no way of knowing, of course, that massaging my ass was a sure-fire way to get me aroused, and her ministrations began to have exactly that effect, especially when she moved to the inner parts of my thighs. I felt myself begin to drift away from reality…

“Beth? Are you awake?” Again Angie’s soft voice roused me from another world.

“Mmmm. Mostly,” was all I could reply.

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to turn over again,” Angie whispered, “the backside is done.” This time I was so limp that I required Angie’s help, but we finally got me on my back again. Angie got a midnight blue towel and covered my hips but left me uncovered otherwise.

It was twilight and the sky was a deep blue color. In the distance, the hills sparkled with points of light from the houses situated on them. Already, a multitude of stars were visible—it was as though Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” had come to life. The room had become dark and Angie was now just a dimly-lit shadow as she moved.

She began with my legs, moving upward and I was soon back in my enchanted place of relaxation. She moved up to my neck and shoulders and I could only marvel at how loose and open I felt there compared to when she had started. Finally, she massaged my belly lightly and moved her hands up to my breasts, just giving them a very light massage. Her touch was intoxicating. Again, I heard her beautiful voice.

“Beth?” she whispered. I opened my eyes. Her face was close to mine and I could see into her eyes.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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They let go of each other and sat up, finding their shirts and quickly going into the house and taking them off again on the way to the bathroom, snickering as they hung them on the top corner of the door, and got into the tub, looking at each other, and then they both raised their eyebrows questioningly. His sister said softly:

“Yeah, I want to, … want you to: ‘all over’.”

When Martha nodded slightly, she dropped to her knees, waiting expectantly, staring at Martha’s pussy, snorting as she saw her stream start and splash on her thighs. She glanced up at Martha and then back at her stream and leaned forward, holding her thighs, and put her face in it and then turned her mouth up to catch it, moving closer to its source as it started to die down, finally kissing Martha’s hair, who snorted and murmured:

“You’re just as raunchy as I am,” and sank down as his sister stood up, looking down at her with a nod and smile, and then closed her eyes for a moment as she spread her knees slightly, and then watched Martha do what she had done, smiling slightly with a snort, that moved her stream for a moment. And then Martha was kissing her, holding her hips, and then pressing down on them as she stood up again, snorting, herself, as she looked at her with a wry smile, and then turned and started adjusting the water as she snorted again and asked:

“Why do we want to do that, … like to do that?”

“I don’t know, but we do,” she replied as she closed the shower curtain.

Martha nodded and turned on the shower. And then were quickly washing each other again, snickering as they washed each other’s pussy – more than just washing them. And then they were drying themselves, looking at each other, in each other’s eyes, and at each other’s aroused breasts, smiling slightly, and then going to his bedroom without brushing their hair.

His sister let Martha precede her to the bed, watching her lie down and turn to her, waiting. They smiled at each other, and then she knelt down at the side of the bed and leaned over and found Martha’s breast with her mouth, sucking and licking her aroused nipple as she held her other breast, and Martha moved closer, holding her head to her with a sigh and murmured:

“You can’t do that to him. Well, … it’s a lot better, doing it to you.”

She nodded and then released her breast and replied as she moved towards Martha’s face:

“And to you,” and then they kissed, now better than before on the deck as she squeezed Martha’s breast, and Martha’s hand found hers as their tongues eagerly moved on each other. Martha’s other hand found his sister’s hand on her breast, holding it for a moment, and then sliding it down to her pussy, and she nodded as her fingers quickly slipped down between Martha’s thighs, that opened as her hips rolled up, letting her fingers slip between her lips and arouse her.

“Un-unnn!” Martha responded as her pelvis rocked up again as his sister sucked and caressed her tongue. Martha’s hand encouraged hers, and her other hand slid down from her breast and found her pussy, her finger sliding under the curve of her pussy and then holding it and pressing up, urging her to rise. She nodded slightly and did, their mouths separating as she followed the urging of the hand on her pussy, moving down over Martha, letting her hand guide her hips up towards Martha’s head as hers moved down Martha’s body as she raised a knee onto the bed and let Martha help support her as she drew her other one up, and Martha guided her hips over her head, her leg moving over her as her head moved down towards Martha’s now spread thighs, and her hand left her pussy as her mouth found Martha’s hair. Her hand slid around Martha’s hip as she rolled over her with her head on her thigh as her hand urged Martha to roll towards her, and she did, as each of them drew her thigh up under the other’s head, raising her other thigh, as they drew each other’s hips to them and buried their faces deep between the other’s thighs.

It was like before, in the morning, but even more direct this time as their fingers found their assholes and their tongues, their clitorises. But after this first intensive impulse, their tongues explored further, and when they both explored past the other’s opening, they both curled their hips up, and their tongues explored further, immediately replacing their fingers and moving on each other as they moaned and responded, and relaxed and let each other probe and then tightened with the same reflex, relaxing again as their tongues wanted to probe again, and then their hips rocked back, and their tongues slid back and found their other hole as their fingers returned to probe, and their tongues and fingers were probing, now deeper.

They let them, and then like in the morning, their tongues were moving, finding a common rhythm. Both of them chuckled slightly with a nod as they continued, not upsetting the pattern they had found, their tongues now moving in perfect unison, continuing on and on as they sighed and moaned softly, one and the other varying the pattern slightly, but then returning to it, and bursa escort their fingers were also moving gently in unison, and their moans became more aroused, but they still continued, not letting their arousal upset the controlled rhythm that their tongues were following.

Their thighs began to quiver, and their moans became sharper, but they still continued, even as they started to come, their faces all wet from each other as they continued, spurting with desperate sounding moans, that then subsided for a moment, but then resumed, sounding even more desperate as their thighs twitched and quivered as they continued and spurted again, their controlled pattern now lost as they buried their noses in each other’s wet cunt and sucked and nibbled and licked each other’s aroused clitoris with whimpering moans and quick gasps as their bodies jerked and their thighs clutched and quivered on each other’s head.

Finally, they relaxed, their bodies limp, just extending their upper thighs as they lay gasping with long moans. Slowly their breathing returned to normal, but they still lay there in silence for a minute two longer.

Martha slid her hand up from her hip and found her breast, and she did the same, their nipples all soft in each other’s palm. Then Martha removed her hand from her and found hers and drew it up to her face, and then murmured:

“I want to,” and with her eyes closed drew his sister’s finger to her mouth.

“You do?!” she asked softly, and Martha nodded.

“Did you do it with him?” she asked again, and Martha nodded again and slipped her finger into her mouth.

“Oh, …” and then she took Martha’s hand and drew it towards her, her eyes still closed as she drew towards her mouth and put her finger in it, and then murmuring again:

“Oh, … you did, … we did. We are raunchy.”

And then she put Martha’s hand back on her breast and found Martha’s again with hers. For a moment they fondled each other without arousing their nipples, and then his sister murmured:

“God, that was good! God, we do that good!!” Martha nodded and squeezed her breast as she continued:

“I was just wanting to do it to you, … like you did, but thank you, that you did. It was just so good!”

Martha nodded again and replied:

“I wanted to, again. Before was just for you, … like I said, … Hm-mmm! … an extra one, for you, … thank you! But I wanted to, … to do it again. … We both know how good that is, too.”

“It sure was! Even better than this morning. We really know how to do it good, together. That’s wonderful, knowing, feeling exactly what it was like, what I was doing, … just too good that way to stop.”

Martha nodded and agreed:

“Um-hmm, I didn’t want to either, wanted us to just keep on like that, it was so good, together, like that.”

“He can’t do that, … it can’t be like that with him. And we sure did! I didn’t think I would have come like that, … just doing that, but it was so arousing, trying to control it, trying not to give in to the urge to just try to make you come, thinking you were wanting to as much as I was, but then we did, and so good!”

“Um-hmm, … just like that, … that’s the way I was feeling, too, a little afraid that you would … give in to the urge. But you didn’t, … we didn’t.”

His sister nodded in response, and Martha continued after a moment:

“Yes, … raunchy. We don’t have to do that again, … but I just wanted to. … Funny? … But if I did, …?”

“Maybe … we’ll want to again?”

“Something like that …”

“Hm-hmm! … What did our mothers say?”

They both snickered and turned their faces down and looked at each other, smirking. Then they sat up, feeling how wet the bed was, and smirking again as his sister asked:

“Do you think he’ll be able to tell that we’ve been here, … smell us?”

“I don’t know, at least, if he can, I hope no one else can.”

They smirked again, and then Martha said:

“I think we deserve another beer now. We haven’t just been good, we’ve been better …”

” ‘Cause we’ve been so bad, … so good and bad.”

“Yeah, as you say, real good and bad, … and that much better. Oh, it was better!”

“It sure was! Who wants to be just good, when she knows how to be better?”

By now they had gotten up, and grinned at each other as they went to the kitchen, silently washing their hands together. They dried their hands and got two beers from the refrigerator and went to the living room.

“Books or puzzle?” his sister asked.

“Puzzle. I think I’ve had enough sun,” and she snickered and added:

“And Marjorie just did it … too, so I don’t think she’ll mind if I let her cool off.”

They both snickered and sat down at the table, opening their beers and skaaling each other, and then they returned to working on the puzzle. By now, it was beginning to take shape: the edges completed with some areas filled in, and groups of joined pieces waiting for a piece or two to connect them to the edge or another group. They made good progress, bursa escort bayan and by the time they had finished their beers, the picture was well filled in.

They leaned back on their chairs, looking at each other, taking in each other’s nakedness with their eyes, smiling a little as they both snorted slightly, and then again as they saw each other’s nipples stand out.

“What should I make for supper,” Martha asked.

“Something to use the ground meat, like Mother said. Can you really make meatloaf?”

“I did for your brother, using your mother’s ‘Joy of Cooking’. We thought it was pretty good.”

“Oh, that would be nice, and we could have the rest tomorrow, and if there is still some left over, the next day.”

“I’ll try, then.”

They smiled and got up and went to the kitchen. His sister helped Martha find the things she need, and she was pleased to find the package of ground meat was the same amount that she had used the week before. She peeled an onion and told her that she could start mixing the bread crumbs and eggs with the meat, while she chopped the onion, then adding it to bowl, telling her to stop mixing, and added salt and pepper from the pepper mill.

“More,” his sister suggested:

“… I like it spicy. Oh, and Mother adds some spice.”

“Oh, yes, that was in the recipe, too. Where are they?”

“In the cupboard over the stove. Oh, shouldn’t we have been heating up the oven?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot that.”

Martha turned the oven on and then looked at the spices:

“Allspice? Or oregano? I think it was allspice. That sounds like you can use it on anything.”

“Or everything. Try it, … and the oregano, too. I like it. Maybe it will be a little different, but that will be good, too.”

“Um-hmm, me too – like oregano. I don’t think we ever use it in Norway.”

She added the spices, and his sister dug her hands back into the bowl while Martha put away the spices and took the baking dish and started to grease it.

“Is this good enough,” his sister asked, starting to scrape the sticky mass off her hands.

“Um-hmm, looks good, put it in the form, and try to avoid bubbles, and press it down. Oh, you’ve probably seen your mother do it.”

His sister nodded and followed Martha’s instructions and then glanced at her.

“Um-hmm, that looks right. Oh, in the book, it said you could cover it with bacon strips. Do we have any?”

They both looked in the refrigerator and did find a packet of bacon, pleased with their success, and as Martha opened it and put strips on the meatloaf, she remarked:

“That was nice of Mother – you know, Jews and pork – but she knows I like it for breakfast.” “She tries to think kosher, but we really aren’t. That’s a nuisance. You’ve got to have two sets of everything – if you’re strictly orthodox – to avoid using the same stuff – pots and pans and plates – for meat and fish. At least, I think it’s for meat and fish. Oh, I guess we have enough – yeah, two sets of china – But Dad’s not so keen about it, and likes ham. His family isn’t orthodox at all.”

Martha just nodded with a smile and replied:

“A really orthodox family probably wouldn’t have an au pair from Norway, a Christian.”

“I guess not. … Does you family go to church? You know we don’t go to Temple every week.

“We don’t go every week, but more often than most families in Norway, maybe ’cause my mother’s father was a pastor … a minister. Hmm! In Norway, ‘ministers’ are in the government, in the cabinet, you know, like the Secretaries in Washington: … of State, of Defence, of … Justice.”

His sister nodded as Martha continued:

“We’re going to have to wait till the oven gets hot. Oh, …hmm! … two things. … But we – Mother – always says … grace before meals, and the first evening with your brother, no … the next day, Monday, when I had made dinner for us, I suddenly had the urge to do so. It was sort of formal, sitting in the dining room, and with candles, and he held my chair – that was nice – and I just felt like it belonged, like at home.”

“And did you? Or what happened?”

“Oh, I told him, and he thought it nice that I felt that way, and … well, I translated the little children’s grace I know, and he thought it was nice that I had. I like that he had wanted me to. … That was real nice. I really liked him for that. Oh, I already liked him …Hm-mmm! … having slept together – and so good – but that was different, liking him for something else.”

They both snorted and nodded with a smile.

“I like that, that … you really like him. … And the other? You said: ‘two things’?”

Martha snorted and chuckled with a grin and replied:

“That was more about the other way of liking him. We were waiting for the meatloaf to bake, in my bed,” and she snickered:

“… and … well, … I was going to do it to him, … and maybe him to me, but I had started, and wanted it to take a long time and wasn’t hurrying, and then we just sort of fell asleep.”

“Like that?! … You must escort bursa have done it whole lot, if that could happen!”

“Um-hmm, I guess so, but we decided that it was nice that we … that neither of us felt like we had to, that it was just nice to be together, that we could be like that and not have to. Of course, we did later.”

“Hmmm! I can imagine! But … yeah, … I guess that sort of … demonstrated that you like each other not just for …”

“Um-hmm, … ‘not just for … ‘.”

“Yeah. … No, … you should really like him, … but … that can help make you like him, … if he is that good to you.”

” ‘Making love’?” Martha suggested.

“Yeah, we talked about that. You, too? The expression says it.”

“Um-hmm, … pretty well. And you’re right, I guess for you too, … maybe not good, but not bad, if you think like that.”

“Hmm, thanks, I think so. I told him I that it was especially nice that my first time wasn’t with someone who just disappeared from my life.”

Martha nodded and suggested:

“Or you might want to forget, regretting that it happened like it might have.”

“Hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right, if were like that. It wasn’t!”

She smiled, and Martha smiled with a nod, then asking:

“When will the oven be hot?”

“Oh, I think a light goes on, … or goes off? Yeah, when it’s reached the temperature, the light goes off when the thermostat turns it off. Set the timer for ten minutes, and we can check Here, I’ll do it.”

She did, and they returned to the puzzle.

When it rang, they went back to the kitchen, and the light was off, and Martha put the meatloaf in the over and reset the timer, and then suggested that they should prepare the rest of the meal, finding potatoes and a cucumber, and they agreed that they didn’t need a green vegetable if Martha made a cucumber salad. When his sister wanted to peel the potatoes, Martha suggested that they could eat them with the peels, since they were smooth young potatoes, that she just needed to clean them under the tap with the brush. She did so, while Martha sliced the cucumber in a bowl and added a little oil and vinegar and sugar and salt and pepper, and then found dill among the herbs and added that and stirred up the salad, tasting it, and then adding more salt as his sister asked how long the potatoes needed, that she had put in a pan with water.

“I don’t know. Add salt to the water. Let’s wait and started them later.”

They went back to the puzzle for a while, and then Martha said that she would put the potatoes on, and went and did so. When she returned, they continued to work on the puzzle and almost finished it when the timer rang.

His sister set the table while Martha drained the potatoes and got the meatloaf and brought them to the table, and they both went back to the kitchen.

“Beer?” she asked Martha, and when she nodded, got two cans from the refrigerator as Martha took the salad to the table, calling back:

“And glasses,” so she got two and joined Martha.

“Looks good, … and smells good,” she remarked as they sat down and opened and poured their beers.

“Um-hmm,” Martha agreed with a pleased smile and started to cut into the meatloaf while she helped herself to potatoes and salad. Martha served her a slice of the meatloaf and then served herself. They said skaal to each other and ate, both agreeing that the meatloaf had turned out well, and his sister liked Martha’s cucumber salad, saying it was different from anything her mother made, and liked the potatoes in their skin, remarking that at home they were always peeled. They had a second helping and talked about what they wanted to do the next day, deciding that they should go to the beach – “tomorrow” – smirking a little at each other. His sister then smirked again and asked:

“And if we meet some boys? What will we do then?”

“You think we will? I don’t know. … Hmm?! … That depends on them.”

“Oh, just the two of us together, some will talk to us. … But maybe someone I know.”

“Anyone … special?”

“Oh, no, just someone who recognizes me, … from school or the City.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Martha replied and took another bite.

“Um-hmm,” she agreed, and did so, herself, and then they were soon finished.

They cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the puzzle with what was left of their beers and soon completed it – and finished their beers.

The sun was starting to set, and they decided to go out on the deck, having to go back and get their shirts in the bathroom. As they put them on, Martha suggested that they could go down on the beach. She agreed, and Martha said:

“Then we’d better put something on underneath.” She nodded in agreement, and they went to their rooms, returning immediately with their bikini bottoms. Then they went out on the deck and down onto the beach, where there were still quite a few people strolling along at the water’s edge.

They joined them, walking towards the setting sun. Once, Martha waded out in the water and then returned, remarking that she had thought the water would be warmer and telling that in Norway, even though it is so far north, the water seemed less cold, from the Gulf Stream, she explained, and then they just walked along in silence.

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 Jenny:

You asked for my story of way back then: how did I survive, how did I find strength and acceptance? How did I find love? Yes, I’ll tell you, Jenny. You’ve a right to know, and from what you’ve written to me about your life now, you need to know. I’m including the intimate, naughty bits, because they’re part of the story, part of who Annie and I were together back then, and you need to know about that too. I don’t remember our exact words, in all cases: I’m dramatising and inventing a little dialogue here and there, because that’s how you tell a story. But it is quite a story, if I may say so myself.

In London, 1953, a horse-faced young woman was about to be crowned Queen of an Empire. I was not much younger than her, twenty-two at the time. But my rites of passage were none so genteel. Not for me nor my Annie.

I was a locksmith, which was a pretty unusual occupation for a girl. Combined with my name, Jo (christened Josephine), my short, sandy hair, combed down like a boy’s, my preference for trousers — well, I came in for no small amount of abuse and misunderstanding from the society roundabout me. I knew I was different, from childhood on. At about age seven, I recall, my friends were chattering about whose brother they wanted to marry when they grew up, and they laughed at me when I said I wanted to marry my friend Beth. As I grew older, cut my hair, and started wearing trousers outside of school, the responses grew uglier. Schoolyard taunts, confrontations with gangs of young lads who were threatened by a non-girl girl like me, fights, almost being raped once, well, I toughened up pretty quickly. You know I’m not much above five foot, but I had some muscle on me then, and I learned how to throw an effective punch or kick when I had to. And I learned that when you let a bully have his way, he’ll soon be back to push you down further. You mustn’t let that happen, if you can help it.

I’ve just made my East-End neighbourhood sound rough, and it was at times, but we all knew each other, and I think I eventually won a certain amount of acceptance, even friendship at times, from them. There was a war on, our houses were being blown to bits by the Junkers, we were sleeping in the Underground, and people generally had more to worry about than the queer girl down the street.

I’d never have made it, though, without my dad. He had an inner strength about him that I loved: he knew exactly who he was, no better nor worse than the next man, and if anybody didn’t like how he was, that was their problem. He taught me to see myself the same way. He stuck up for me with the neighbours when I wasn’t strong enough on my own. And seeing as how I wasn’t likely to become a housewife nor a fashion model when I grew up, he taught me his trade, locksmithing. I thank God for the club foot that kept him out of the army. My mum I barely remember, except from a couple of holiday snaps, and my dad’s stories. She died of pneumonia when I was five. She looked like a softer, girlier version of me. My dad loved her, I know. He never found another woman to take her place, though many’s the widow in our neighbourhood that wanted to fill the other half of his bed.

When customers came into our shop, or my dad brought me along on jobs, eyebrows were often raised at the girl apprentice in trousers. But as I said, there was a war on, men were in short supply, and if they wanted their doors fixed, they let us get on about our work. After the war, with half of London in rubble, there was a massive rebuilding boom, and consequently no shortage of jobs for my dad and me. Soon we had enough saved to buy out the business of a retired locksmith in the City, which I took over as my own shop. It was a different class of customer there — barristers’ and bankers’ offices mostly, with gleaming brass fittings and old oak panelling all over the place. Sir Toff, QC, and Lord Torybugger, and their secretaries, looking down their noses at me as though I were an unpleasant smell, all the while begging me to please give their job top priority. I had my own assistant, my cousin Jimmy, and if customers gave me any trouble about my unconventional appearance, he could scowl at them like a surly proletarian and they’d generally back off.

At first, I commuted to the new shop from our East-End home. But I was of age, ready to try living on my own; and I think my dad was maybe ready to give some of the neighbourhood widows an audition or two, with me out of the way. So I moved into the empty flat above our shop in the City, and furnished it according to my simple needs. I had, in sum, by age twenty-two, carved out an independent life for myself as an openly butch lesbian (we were called toms back then), in a totally straight, male-dominated world. Not bad, eh, Jenny?

The irony was that I had absolutely no experience of lesbian love. Now, I just said that it was a totally straight world, but that’s only in a manner of speaking. Many times, I had caught the eyes of women bursa escort — neighbourhood mums, housekeepers, shop girls, aristocratic matrons, tradesmen’s wives, young secretaries: hot, frank appraisals of me that made me blush to my toes and go wet in my cunt; brushing their breasts against me or subtly running their hand over my bum as they got off the bus; turning to wink at me. Many times, I returned their gaze, with dumb hunger. Once, a posh secretary in a solicitor’s office slipped her hand into mine as I was working, squeezed it, and whispered in my ear, “I bet you do naughty things with these hands.” But when the solicitor suddenly returned, she sprang away from me and resumed her supercilious manner. I hated that woman just then, though I understood her predicament. I was butch enough to attract her lust, but by the same token, too butch to be safely seen with. And so it was, I suppose, for all those closeted women with whom I exchanged hungry gazes. Perhaps they went home and touched themselves, thinking of me — I know I went home and frigged myself raw, thinking of them. If there were any lesbian meeting places in London back then, nobody told me about them.

So, the only person who could really initiate me into this depraved, unnatural, forbidden love was a pure innocent: my sweet Annie.

So here’s where the story gets underway. With Coronation festivities about to begin, Buckingham Palace and such places were swarming with princes, dukes, rajas, and suchlike from hither and yon. But there was no room at the inn for a certain Prince, formerly the Nazi puppet ruler of a small eastern European country, chased out by the Russians, now living in Spain (I learned all this later from Annie). Because of his Nazi ties, he couldn’t be accommodated too publicly; nevertheless, he was a duly pedigreed relation of the Prince Consort, so Lord Haggis (or some such name), owner of a grand old residence in the City, stepped forward and saw to it that this Son of Royalty would have somewhere to lay his head. Moreover, because this ex-Prince had overseen some rather nasty torture and mass execution campaigns during his Nazi heyday, he was in need of protection from his countrymen. He was in need of very secure doors — not just the exterior doors, but the door to his bedroom, the door to his wife’s bedroom, the door to his mistress’s bedroom, and so on. Hence, my services were called for.

I was busy installing a triple deadbolt lock with a steel doorframe in what was to be one of the bedrooms (wife’s or mistress’s, I’m not sure), when I heard a polite cough behind me.

“Sorry to interrupt you at your work sir, but Mrs Crimmons was wanting to know if you’re likely to be finished by this afternoon, sir.”

I looked up. She was a fat, pink-faced girl of eighteen or nineteen, about my height, in the black-and-white uniform of a parlour-maid.

“Cor,” she started, “you’re not a man! You’re a girl!” She blushed even pinker.

“Last I checked, that’s right.”

“But … then why are you dressed like a lad?” There was no taunt behind it: it was an innocent question.

“I’m more comfortable like this,” I shrugged.

Her response caught me off guard. “Well, I think you look right pretty that way, Miss. Or handsome, p’raps I should say,” she smiled coyly. “My name’s Annie Blake. What’s yours?” “Jo. Jo Irons. Er, tell Mrs Crimmons I’ve got three more of these doors to do, and I shan’t be finished before five.”

Annie hurried away, but returned a half-hour later with a tray of covered dishes. “I thought you might be hungry for a bite of lunch, Jo.”

“Well, thank you Annie, but I brought my own lunch pail. I never get fed on jobs like this.”

“Are you sure you won’t try some? There’s a slice of ham-and-veal pie, new potatoes, and fresh asparagus. I just swiped ’em off his lordship’s table for you.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble, Annie.” She shrugged, as if this was not a concern. And since she had bothered, and since the pie looked delicious, I sat down and devoured it. All the while, Annie hovered by me, peppering me with questions about myself, where I’d grown up, what it was like to be a girl in a trade, how I lived by myself. I had initially supposed she was a bit slow-witted, but as the conversation continued, I saw that she had a sharp appraisal of the goings-on in this household, and in the broader world. She was just an innocent with regard to women like me. And she had a smile that just seemed to radiate from the core of her being, warming me in her glow. After a bit, I noticed, underneath the starched ugliness of her maid’s uniform, a plump, well-developed young figure that began to stir my fancy. Well, I told myself, who says I can’t fancy a fat girl? And this girl looked quite cuddly, quite appealing, really. Her hair was a beautiful auburn, tucked up primly, alas, beneath a drab maid’s cap.

I was sorry me when she told me she had to get back to work. But her innocent directness escort bursa once again bowled me over: “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Jo. I like you, a lot. Would you step out with me sometime? Thursday’s my afternoon off.”

“Annie, I like you very much too, and I’d love to step out with you. But you should know,” I winced, “if people see you with me, there’ll be talk.”

“What kind of talk?”

“Well, it’s kind of obvious to people from the way I look … I’m what you call a tom, Annie, a sexual invert: I’m attracted to women rather than men. If people see you with me, they’ll think … you fancy me.”

“They’ll be right then, won’t they,” she smiled, and sashayed out of the room, which just a bit more sway to her big hips than was necessary.

I let Jimmy handle my jobs for Thursday afternoon, and closed up the shop. I washed extra-carefully, dressed in a freshly laundered shirt, with my tweed trousers and jacket, and set off to Annie’s. At last, after twenty-two years, I was stepping out with a girl, a real flesh-and-blood girl who wanted to be with me and didn’t care if we were seen together. A girl who might even let me kiss her, if I could arrange the circumstances right.

But when I arrived at the tradesman’s entrance to the house and asked for her, the housekeeper came out instead, eyed me up as though I were a contagious disease, and told me Annie was not at liberty to see any visitors.

“But, ain’t this her free afternoon, Mrs Crimmons?”

“That is no Concern of yours. She’s in quite serious Trouble as it is, without … Characters like you entering the picture.”

Annie in trouble?! Was it about that lunch she’d given me? I had to get in there and see what was going on. But I wasn’t going to get past this pompous bulldog of a housekeeper by begging; I needed to switch tactics fast.

“Well, you see, ma’am,” I said, putting on the manner of an impatient tradesman, “I come back to check on the locks, for them new doors I put in for the Prince’s rooms, this Tuesday last. There’s a further adjustment that’s needed, and … Annie told me I might come back today and take care of it.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Ruby,” she called to a passing kitchen maid, “do you Recognise this … person.”

“Yes, Mrs Crimmons, that’s the locksmith gal what was here the other day. Annie pointed her out to me.”

“Hmm.”

“I know my way, ma’am, no need to trouble yourself,” I muttered as I darted past her.

When I reached the main floor, I was frightened to see coppers in the sitting room (this couldn’t be about the ham-and-veal pie then, could it?), but I continued up the stairs as though I belonged there, till I could hear my Annie’s voice, arguing sharply with several men.

“It’ll go much harder for you, my gel, if you don’t tell us where they are straightaway. We’re not playing games here.”

“I told you: I never even seen ’em! I didn’t even know he had any bleeding emeralds.” I sidled up to the doorway. There were several constables standing about, whilst a ferret-faced detective questioned her. A tall, richly dressed gentleman with a pencil moustache hovered in the background.

“It’s no good, ducky. His Excellency,” he nodded to the Prince, “says you did see them. Now, am I to believe the Prince, or am I to take the word of a parlour-maid, daughter of a convicted forger?”

Her face went stony. “You can believe as you please. You can send me to prison if you choose. I’ll be in better company there than I am at present.”

I noticed that the Prince’s eyes kept travelling, furtively, to a small, elaborately carved writing desk in the corner. It was my only hope. “Were those emeralds insured, Inspector?” I asked brightly, stepping into the room. “I assume you searched that escritoire? The, er, the writing desk?” Annie started when she saw me, but kept mum.

“And who the bloody hell are you? *What* the hell are you? — begging your Excellency’s pardon.”

“I’m just the locksmith, Inspector. Security expert, you might call me, sir.”

“Security expert,” he sneered. “She looks more like an ‘unnatural practices’ charge to me.” The constables chuckled at his wit. “Of course we searched the — now see here, you –“

“If I might just have a closer look …” I pushed past him and began examining the desk. Now, being a locksmith, I know a hinge when I see one, thank God, even when it’s carved to look like part of an oak-leaf design. “Did you find this hidden compartment, Inspector?” I knocked on it, and it gave a distinctly hollow ring. Or maybe it was just my heart pounding.

“Hidden compartment?”

The Prince stepped forward. “There eez no heeden compartment. Why do you not take her away? Take both away,” he gestured dismissively at Annie and me.

“Inspector, if you’ll look closely here, you can see the hinge, and this must be the lock. It’s very well-joined, but you can just make out the edges of the panel here, following the bursa escort bayan swirl of this vine.”

“TAKE BOTH AWAY!” the Prince bellowed. Oh yes, I’d dealt with bullies like him before. He was just at that panicky point of realising his intimidation game wasn’t working anymore, that the victims were calling his bluff.

“Just a moment,” the inspector turned to the prince, “your Excellency.” This time, the title had a sarcastic twist. “Constable Reed, would you please pry this panel open with your penknife?”

“No! I forbeed. Eet eez a very costly escritoire, Louis Quinze. Wait.” He crumbled, “Very well, I weel open.” The Prince fished a tiny key from his pocket, inserted it in the eye of a carved bird, and the little door swung open. “Ah. The emeralds are here, after all. All eez well. You may go,” he gestured towards all of us, as though we were crumbs on his tablecloth.

Annie stood up, quaking. “You bastard. You fucking BASTARD! You were going to claim the insurance money, and pin it on me. You didn’t give a fuck if you put an innocent girl in prison for twenty years, did you?”

“Now, my gel,” the detective stepped in, “mind your tongue. The Prince has admitted his mistake, and it’s best we let the matter drop,” he turned again to the prince, “suspicious though the circumstances may be. Come along now.”

Annie was still trembling; I took her by the arm and helped her out the door. On our way back down to the servants’ hall, Mrs Crimmons swept up and briskly informed Annie that she was dismissed. “Your Language, Annie, was inexcusable under any Circumstance, let alone when shouted for all the House to hear, let alone when addressed to His Lordship’s Esteemed Guest, the Prince. I will not have a gel in my House who is acquainted with such Language.” She glared at me, “Not to mention the Moral Turpitude of the … persons you associate with.”

Annie and I looked at each other, our faces bright red, both of us about to explode in rage at our “betters.” But instead we both burst out laughing, holding each other tightly, cackling and hooting till our ribs ached and tears streamed down our faces. “Moral turpitude!” Annie howled, as Mrs Crimmons flounced off.

“Come on Annie, let’s pack up your things. You’re coming home with me.”

It took Annie but a few minutes to say her quick goodbyes to a couple of friends, pack her few belongings into a small trunk, and change into civilian clothes. Her frock was plain, and a bit too tight, but compared to that parlour-maid uniform, it looked divine on her — so soft and inviting, with her thick, wavy auburn hair down to her shoulders.

We took a cab back to my flat. She held my hands tightly during the short ride. Annie gushed a lot, about how brave I was to stand up to that Prince, and clever to find the emeralds. I just shrugged and told her I can’t abide bullies; and it was a lucky guess as to the compartment in the desk. Besides, she had been pretty brave herself.

Once we were arrived at my flat, I sat her down on the settee and put the kettle on. “Annie, you’ve had a nasty shock today, and we both need a nice cup of strong tea, before we … er … talk about anything serious.”

But when we’d both taken a few sips of our tea, Annie looked me levelly in the eye, and said, “Jo, I want you to hold me, please.” How could I say no to that? I moved in beside her on the settee, taking her in my arms, feeling the soft warmth of her big breasts against my own. She nestled her head against my neck, and began kissing me there. My heart was pounding, electrifying sensations were racing through my body, delighting and terrifying me.

“Annie, you know you can stop here as long as you want, without us … doing anything, don’t you? That’s not why I brought you back here.”

`She pulled away from me. “Oh.” She paused. “You fancy women … you just don’t fancy me, is that it?” She looked down. “Is it because I’m so fat?”

“No, Annie, you’re not understanding me. I do fancy you, ever so much: I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since I met you. I just didn’t want you to feel forced into anything with me.”

Her posture softened. “You really are too sweet and gentle to believe, Jo,” she laughed. “I’ve never met any girl like you before; but I know I want to be with you.”

“Annie, I’ve never … made love … to a woman before. I’m not sure I know what to do.”

“I’ve never either. For starters, let’s take your jacket off and you just hold me some more.” We sat together like that, without talking, just snuggling together, for several lovely minutes. “I can feel your heart,” she smiled. “Can you feel mine?” Coyly, she took my hand and guided it up to her left breast. When I began touching her breast, cupping and fondling it, that opened up our lust throttle several ticks, and soon I was kissing her on the lips, and her soft mouth opened to me, full-out snogging, as she ran her fingers through my short hair. (So this is kissing, I thought; so this is being in love: no wonder people write songs about it.) Then I felt her hand boldly travelling up the inside of my trouser-covered thigh.

“I think,” she panted, “we’re meant to take our clothes off at this point.”

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Like every other night in Los Angeles, the temperature was comfortable at a summertime low of ninety degrees. I was spending the night alone again; a queen sized bed seems rather empty when yourself and an oversized pillow are the only occupants. Jake, my rottweiler, had taken to sleeping by the back door lately, where the cool draft lulled him to sleep.

I fidgeted, sweaty and uncomfortable. I couldn’t seem to get any rest the past few days, quite possibly because of the warmth. I crawled out of my shirt and panties and dropped them off the edge of the bed. I lay nude, still overwhelmed by the excessive California heat.

A flamenco lovesong was suddenly audible; it must have been the neighbors upstairs again; the three silly-looking elderly Mexican men. The volume grew, and I considered asking them to turn it down, but laziness overcame me. Besides, the music seemed to fill the emptiness that I’d been feeling for so many nights…

I was hardly even aware of my sight growing dim and my eyelids growing heavy, or that the unbareable west coast heat had become almost soothing. I had relaxed and was on the verge of slumber when I heard rhythmic footsteps within the room. I opened my eyes and looked around, frightened.

Figures of smoke took human shapes, one of a woman dancing in time with the rich, melodic energies that a young man plucked out on a classical guitar strung with steel. My companions gradually solidified until they nearly appeared opaque.

The girl was young, she seemed barely an adult, but her curves were far too pronounced for her to be a child. Her flesh was delicate and tan; a wilted red flower accented the hair that was ebony strands of silk flowing with her steps. A floral dress clung to bursa escort her hips and breasts, and its layers of fabric danced around her ankles elegantly.

The girl seemed to have grown weary of my attention, and directed my gaze towards her instrumentalist. He was a bit darker than she, and his hair was accented with a few grey strands. He smiled as he played – a warm, soft smile that seemed to draw me in…

My concentration returned to the dancer, who had discreetly found her way onto the bed. She crept along my body until she was balanced on her hands and knees, eye level with me. “Me llamo Anjelica,” she said, in a voice that must have thrown the Sirens into a stupor. Only now did I notice she was no longer clothed. She seated herself on my stomach and whispered to me words that I didn’t know, but understood.

She smiled and placed her hands on my breasts. I should have been startled, but her beauty overcame and overwhelmed me. Clutching them for balance, she leaned forward and kissed me. I was still for a moment, allowing her tongue to explore. Once I’d overcome my initial intimidation, I returned the oral intimacy and found myself falling into her very existence…

I could feel myself growing wet and I whimpered a bit, still locked in a passionate embrace. I put my hands on her waist and held her close. Gently, I slid my fingers along her satin flesh, down to the small of her back and then up again, holding her behind her neck.

We pulled away from the kiss and I became fixated on her eyes, which were a brown darker and richer and more soulful than anything else that had ever bothered to exist. Her breasts were suspended above mine; large, delicate and round. Nipples of velvet brown protruded escort bursa sharply and drew my desire.

Anjelica set an example for me, by kneading my chest. I shivered with the unbareable waves of passion that ran through my veins. My hands found themselves sliding down from her neck, around her torso and to her breasts. They were even softer than they’d looked. She gripped me as I massaged her, and we kissed again.

She backed away from the kiss and let go. She kneeled above me and looked down. My mind raced to my highschool spanish class. “Mas,” I whimpered. She turned around, almost as if to leave. I panicked. “No. Please, no. Por favor? No…”

She crawled backwards and placed her dripping pussy above my mouth. I was relieved and overjoyed and only knew how to express this by indulgence.

I closed my eyes and nuzzled her soft pubic hair. She was warm and delicious, sweeter than any girl I’d known. I licked her lips and briefly slipped my tongue in between. She was having trouble balancing, and repositioned herself so that her hands were once again on my breasts. She focused on my hardened pink nipples this time, gently at first, just caressing them and occasionally pinching, but as I licked her, she grew more aggressive; twisting, pulling, squeezing.

She couldn’t take the teasing any longer and pressed her vagina into my face, enveloping me in her musk and flavour. I slid my tongue along her and to her clitoris. It felt so tender, and I couldn’t resist surrounding it with my lips and sucking gently. She began to buck against my face, and I began to shudder with emptiness underneath her.

I lifted my hips and she tried to reach to finger me with one hand but couldn’t quite make it without bursa escort bayan slipping away from my tongue, something she was very reluctant to do. Instead, she focused more attention on my breasts, hoping to satisfy me. She was able to come close, but never succeeded, and I whimpered. Within a few moments, she was unable to contain herself and couldn’t concentrate on massaging me, instead clutching my tits and holding on, trying desperately to maintain balance.

She moaned in harmony with the fading guitar, and I realized that she had begun to fade as well. I was on the verge of tears and I sucked harder. I slid one hand along her stomach and up to her breast and I gripped her nipple and rubbed. With my other, I thrust two fingers inside of her, sliding them in an out. She nearly screamed as she came, and I licked as much from her as I could; I was completely absorbed in her delectable juices…

I gently guided her off of my face with my fingers. She wanted to keep them inside, so she followed. She had a bit of trouble turning around and keeping them pressed within her, but she managed, and she leaned over me, for a kiss that I rejected. Instead, I led her a bit closer, studying her growing transparency, and placed my free hand on her back, pulling her down. With my tongue, I caressed one of the nipples that stood before me. She gave a breathy moan. Anxious to occupy my mouth, I took it in and sucked aggressively.

I felt her slipping away, her existence fading…

I blinked, and she was gone. Her accompanist was gone as well. I realized my thumb was in my mouth and I was curled into a ball. There was no music, there was no girl. My clothes were on again, and the heat had returned to being savage.

I rolled over and sucked the thumb of my other hand… but something smelled familiar. It was the musk of Anjelica, spread across my middle and index fingers. I licked them and I knew her taste again…

And then I cried myself to sleep…

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Acknowledgments

Thank you to all of you who have written me with feedback on my previous submissions. A big thank you each to Ripley and JumbledMind for being my capable counselors in this new endeavor. Their thoughtful contributions have certainly made everything about this story better.

Preface

I was about to start tinkering with the next part of Alex and Jess’s story, but I kept getting pulled back to Sienna. I felt I owed this to her; she, whom I capriciously used as an admittedly clumsy device in the main Jess/Alex narrative. So here is Sienna’s story. Caveat emptor: 1) The buildup is long; it may not be your cup of tea if you are looking for something more, er, expedient. 2) One of the main characters is butch.

+++ The Past +++

Chapter 1: A Most Rare Vision (Freshman Year, September)

“Hey, what’s your roommate like?” Hannah asked.

Sienna shrugged, “Non-controversial. Yours?”

“Non-controversial,” Hannah shrugged similarly, “With limited motivation to engage in conversation.”

“I don’t feel like a college student,” Sienna looked at the expanse of campus before them as they walked to the Athletic Center. It was the second day of orientation at Franklin-Adams College and the two Freshmen were headed to the Varsity Athletics Open House. They had been in high school together, and were glad to have each other at FAC as they navigated the sprawling campus in the middle of New York City.

“It’s orientation, things don’t start picking up until classes start… Soccer’s in L-203…” Hannah squinted at the notice board at the Sports Center entrance, “Looks like you are in…. Mezz. What’s ‘Mezz’?”

Sienna shrugged, “I’ll find it. Maybe…. over there?” Her eyes followed a tall and lanky athlete wearing a varsity swimming jacket.

Hannah sniffed the air mockingly, “Oh yes, the unmistakable trail of chlorine… follow your nose, Logan. I’ll see you later.”

Sienna strolled upstairs into the Mezz meeting room, where a handful of tables stood in haphazard formation. Ten or so upperclassman in varsity jackets sat with feigned insouciance at the front of the room. There was a podium to their right, and Sienna saw two members of the men’s team leaning against it, chatting away. Both had a red “C” on their jackets.

Sienna spied a leaflet on the table and picked it up. “FAC Men’s and Women’s Varsity Swimming,” read the title, followed by, “Co-Captains: David Sotir and Alex Mak.” Really? Both captains are men? That’s disappointing.

Sienna strolled up to the podium, indignation simmering over the lack of a female captain, “I have a question for the two of you.”

The taller of the two smiled, “Freshman? I’m David. Captain of the men’s team.”

Sienna nodded as she shook his outstretched hand.

“Sienna Logan.” She looked over at the other captain and her stomach lurched. Not a guy. Oh shit. So much for challenging misogyny.

“And this is Alex… uh… Alexandra, captain for the women’s team,” David continued, gesturing to his co-captain.

“Hi,” Alex held out her hand.

Sienna stared at Alex. Now that she was standing closer, she felt stupid for mistaking Alex for a guy. More than that though, was a feeling that there was something familiar about the women’s captain. What was it? She felt herself blush with embarrassment as she shook hands with Alex.

David raised his eyebrows, “You okay?”

Sienna felt herself nod vigorously. Sure I’m okay. I was one obnoxious comment away from putting my foot in it and embarrassing myself before the semester even started.

“You had a question, you said?” David asked.

Sienna nodded again as she willed her brain come up with a believable question, “Yes. Um, I’m interested in trying out for the team. Just wanted to get a sense of timing and all that.” Oh man, that was lame.

David nodded, “We’ll cover that in a minute. Just waiting for Mel to get here. She’s our coach.”

Alex flashed a reassuring smile. Sienna blushed, “Okay, thanks,” and quickly turned away. Luckily, the room was beginning to fill up, and Sienna slid into a seat at one of the tables.

Her heart was pounding. There was something about Alex that was scratching at the edge of Sienna’s brain. They’d never met before, that was certain. So what was it?

Alex sat down when Mel walked in. David leaned over, “I think we freaked out the freshman.”

Alex glanced at Sienna and whispered back, “I think I freaked out the freshman. Bet she thought I was a guy.”

David barked out a short laugh, “Maybe. Or maybe she likes you. She’s hot.”

Alex fist-bumped Mel in greeting and turned back to David, “Yeah, not my type though.”

Mel rolled her eyes when she heard what Alex said, “Is whatever you are talking about something I should be hearing?”

“Nope,” the two seniors said together.

Mel shook her head, “Thought bursa escort not. Let’s get started then. Hello everyone…”

Sienna sat through the meeting, half listening as Mel and the captains introduced the swimming program and gave information about try-outs. When they opened it up to questions, she was still trying to figure out where she could have seen Alex before; she was drawn to the tall, androgynous woman, but she didn’t know why. Something was missing.

Sienna’s head suddenly snapped up. Alex was talking.

“Uh, no, I didn’t have any of these guys’ US age group swimming experience when I first arrived. I went to high school in the UK and our swimming programme was quite different. Mel had to whip the metric system out of me. I’m surprised she’s kept me around!” The room laughed. Sienna’s eyes widened. Of course. Why not throw in an irresistible British accent. This must be a cruel joke.

“Seriously though,” Alex continued, “If you are willing to work hard, there’d be room for you. You might not get a lot of competition time, but there’d be room for you on the team.”

Another hand went up and Mel fielded the next question.

Sienna couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at Alex. It felt like déjà vu. Everything she saw seemed to already have a home in her brain. The thatch of black hair that casually hung over Alex’s eyes blended into a handsome fade on the sides and back. The broad shoulders. The provocatively masculine air. Am I attracted to her? What if I am? Sienna tried to calm her breathing. Okay. Maybe I am. Nothing wrong with it. It’s not like I haven’t dreamt about being with women… OH MY GOD… that dream…

Mel pointed towards the table by the door, “Make sure you fill out the attendance sheets at the door, and we’ll see you at try-outs. Thanks for coming, everyone.”

Sienna’s silent revelation left her completely discombobulated. She was one of the last ones out of the meeting room and walked downstairs in a daze. She found Hannah sitting on a bench by the lounge area, texting furiously with someone.

“Hey…” Sienna muttered.

“Oh — hey. How was it?” Hannah smiled at the reply she received, before shutting off the screen, “Mine was ok. The coach seemed nice. Try-outs at the end of the week.”

Sienna nodded, “Us too.”

“Anyone you know? Sadie Dawson from Lexington High is here. Remember how awesome she was during States last year? She’s definitely getting a spot.”

Sienna shrugged, “I didn’t really pay attention–” Some weird instinct tugged her eyes towards the staircase. Alex was about to walk down with Mel.

Hannah nodded, “Yeah, ours was not the height of intellectual stimulation either.”

Sienna had a sarcastic remark in mind, but it evaporated as her entire being focused on sensing when Alex would walk past. Five… four… three… two… Sienna looked up.

“Hey, thanks for coming to the info session. See you at try-outs!” Alex said as she strolled past.

Sienna nodded, “I’m fine, thanks! Oh, um, I mean, yeah, sure. See you then.”

Hannah observed the exchange. “Who was that?” Hannah followed Sienna’s gaze.

Sienna felt her face heat up, “Alex Mak. Captain… swim… women’s…”

Hannah noted the blush, “… and the reason you can’t form a complete sentence and was distracted during the orientation session?”

Sienna stared at the floor.

Hannah’s eyebrows leapt upwards, “Wait… You are into women now?”

Sienna stood up and started walking. “Who knows? I mean, maybe? I don’t know.” Sienna knew that it had always been something she’d been open to. Hell, her mother’s favorite story was about Sienna coming home from kindergarten one day saying that she and her best friend had plans to get married, just like Auntie Sarah and Auntie Ruth.

Hannah shook her head as she walked alongside her friend, “Wow. I’ve never seen you get all tongue-tied like that before.”

“I’m kinda going through what can only be described as a bizarre Freudian spectacle in my head right now, so cut me some slack, will ya?”

Hannah chuckled, “What, you think you’ve been repressing the gay thing?”

Sienna shook her head, “No, I was thinking more about dreams being the manifestation of unspoken wishes. But sure, throw that in the mix. Why not?”

“I honestly don’t think you are the type to feel compelled to be closeted. Your parents will probably sign right up for PFLAG the moment you tell them. Wait, what dream?”

Sienna stopped walking, “Yeah. Okay. First, let me ask you this: did Alex look familiar to you?”

Hannah shook her head, “Why? Should she?”

“Just humor me.”

Hannah’s fingers flew around her phone’s screen, “Ok, ok, look, here’s the stuff from the student directory: Alexandra Mak. Senior. High School: The Halsey School, UK. I’ve never heard of it,” she looked at Sienna blankly.

“Are you sure?”

Hannah nodded emphatically, “Positive… Alex’s home town is escort bursa listed as Hong Kong and New York, she’s majoring in Business Studies… lives in Hoffman Hall. I wouldn’t know her from a hole in the wall.”

Sienna shook her head, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before either. I mean, I think I kind of have, but I haven’t.”

“You’ve lost me. Have you or not? And what does this have to do with Freud and dreams?”

“Uh,” Sienna came to a halt again, “Um. It’s hard to explain…”

“Spill it, Logan,” Hannah gestured with her head for Sienna to keep moving.

Sienna took a deep breath as she started walking again, “Earlier this summer, I started to have this recurring dream. This is very weird….”

Hannah looked completely confused, “Okay… go on…”

“There’s this woman that keeps appearing in that dream. I think it’s Alex.”

“What do you mean ‘you think’?”

Sienna was now bright red. “I don’t really see her. I’m not really able to…”

Hannah arched an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“Um…” Sienna shifted uncomfortably, “Because it’s kinda dark, and she comes up behind me, and then she kind of just moves in front of me… but lower.” The last word came out very quietly.

Hannah stared at her friend, trying to envision the movements described. She gasped, “Are you saying that you’ve been having a dream about someone going down on you? And you think it’s Alex?”

Sienna felt her face heat up even more. She nodded, “Yeah. The body type… the dark hair…”

Hannah grinned slyly, “And does she… do you… uh, is it a… I mean, does it end well?”

Sienna buried her face in her hands and nodded.

Hannah shrieked with delight, “Clearly, this means you have to send her flowers or something. You know, as a thank you.”

Sienna looked through her fingers at Hannah, “What? No! I don’t even know what this is!”

“How often do you have the dream?”

Sienna shrugged, “Not often. Most recent time was last week, before we left for New York.”

“Maybe it’s a guy?”

Sienna shook her head again, “It is definitely a woman. The first time I had the dream, it was like, ‘huh, well this is unexpected’ but then you know, things happened and it’s kind of hard not to be on board after that…”

Hannah giggled, “Most people struggle with the coming out process, Sienna. You.. you can’t just orgasm your way into it.”

Sienna blushed, “I know! Actually, I haven’t really thought it through before now. Logically, the fact that I have this recurring dream means I’m probably not one hundred percent straight. Which, by the way, I never thought I was. Maybe Sigmund is right and it’s just my sub-conscious nudging me along.”

“Wait, if you can’t see this person, how do you know it’s a woman?”

“Boobage. Not big, but suffice it to say, the lack of clothing makes them apparent.”

“Look harder next time,” giggled Hannah, “Or at least, try and look harder next time… when your fantasy woman shows up to provide some cunning linguistics.”

Chapter 2: No More Yielding But a Dream (Sophomore Year, May)

“Hey you,” a low voice said into her ear.

Sienna smiled as she felt a warm body slide into bed behind her. She reached back and touched a forearm, which she immediately pulled around her stomach. Soft lips began nibbling on her earlobe.

“Hmmmmm…” Sienna sighed. Wait.

Oh shit, it’s the dream again. Ok. Let’s get a look at you… Fuck. Why is it always so dark when this happens?

Sienna tried to move, but couldn’t. The mystery woman had commenced the now familiar ministrations of pleasure, her lips gently kissing Sienna’s neck. Her hands moved under Sienna’s shirt, and then, after a moment of delicious anticipation, Sienna felt them on her breasts. “Ohhhhhhhhhh…..”

If I know I’m in a dream, I should be able to control it, right? How the hell do you lucid dream? Oh god, that feels so good….

Sienna felt warm breaths trailing warm lips as the woman kissed a delicious path down her torso. Dark brown hair shielded the woman’s face from view. Sienna noticed two orbs emitting a soft blue light far off in the distance. Huh, that’s new… “OH!”

A warm, smooth tongue made contact with her sex. She smiled and opened her legs. “Oh yes,” she sighed, “Oh yes.”

I know this is not real… but it feels so good…

Sienna’s clit was being caressed with exquisite attention. “Oh, right there… right there…”

Growing pulses of pleasure were rippling up and down Sienna’s body. She felt a familiar tightening as the muscles in her body flexed, every sinew welcoming a glorious orgasm that crackled and coursed through every nerve with delight. “Kiss me,” mumbled Sienna.

She felt her lover’s body move upwards. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. Those soft, soft lips touched hers. Just lightly as first, but then with more insistence; yielding but strong. Sienna opened her mouth, bursa escort bayan kissing back earnestly. Good kisser. Amazingly good kisser… even though this is all in my head….

Moments later, Sienna opened her eyes, stretching her body contentedly.

“Alone again,” she sighed, “Who are you??!!”

The kiss lingered in Sienna’s mind the rest of that week. Not only because it was new, but because it had been so delicious. She wondered if such a kiss could happen outside of her imagination. She’d certainly enjoyed mind-blowing kisses before, but now she knew of something better.

“Hey… Hannah,” Sienna nudged her friend. The two of them were studying in the library reading room, cramming for the next day’s finals.

Hannah chewed on her pen, “I am totally screwed if we get a question on Ampere’s Law. I always overthink it and get it mixed up.”

“Go over the midterm question on the coaxial cable,” Sienna replied, “It’ll help.”

Hannah made a face as she looked through her midterm exam. “I got that question right. Huh. So why is it confusing now?”

“Because you are panicking and your brain’s stopped working. Which is good. Because I want to talk about something other than electro-magnetic fields for a sec.”

“Ok, shoot,” Hannah threw the midterm back onto the pile of papers on the table.

“I definitely maybe for sure, almost, think that it’s definitely Alex I’ve been dreaming about. Had the dream again the other night. After I talked to Mel earlier that day.” Sienna looked at Hannah meaningfully.

“You told your coach about your dream?” Hannah looked shocked.

“No, I was telling Mel about Spring Break and what a disaster it was. But then she got an email from Alex while we were talking. I think it was a trigger for the dream.”

Hannah lifted an eyebrow, “Oh man, I thought you were over Alex. Is this why you’re breaking up with Sydney?”

“‘Broke up.’ She came over last night and we talked. Hannah, it was never going to work. I mean, we had fun and all that, but we are fundamentally incompatible: our lives don’t mesh! She works the late shift for the student union four nights a week. I have morning practices 5am five days a week. I’m gone most weekends for meets. I’m pre-med and on West campus. She’s theater studies and downtown. It’s a miracle we actually even met.”

“And now you are running straight back to the Alex-is-the-woman-in-your-dreams theory,” Hannah stretched, “And you were doing so well without it, Sienna!”

“There was something new in the last dream. We kissed. So now I kind of feel like there’s something I can use to compare in real life. You know, without…”

“Without having to make an indecent proposal?”

“Exactly! And according to Mel’s email, Alex is in New York….”

“Your grand plan is what? ‘Hey Alex, give me a kiss so I can see if it measures up to the one that is actually a figment of my imagination’?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds ludicrous. Forget I said anything…”

Hannah shook her head, “Give me Ampere’s Law any day. At least it’s grounded in fact.”

Chapter 3: Though She be but Little, She is Fierce (Junior Year, September)

Sienna leaned back happily into her beach chair, loving the sound of the ocean in her ears and the feel of the warm sun on her skin. It was Labor Day Weekend, and Sienna was looking forward to three days at the beach before the official start of classes.

Hannah had invited Sienna and Amy, a mutual friend from FAC, to stay at her family’s house on the Cape. The guest list grew when Amy’s boyfriend Steve wanted to join and brought along his friend Pete — ostensibly to use Pete’s car, but truthfully it was because he didn’t want to be the only guy. Pete was on the swim team with Sienna, and Steve was in Hannah’s Chemistry Lab so the five of them all got along well, which was fortunate as it was a cramped ride in Pete’s car as they drove up to Massachusetts.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, her phone started ringing. “Hey Hannah, what’s up?”

“We are headed into the village. Amy wants to give Steve the full tourist treatment. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m staying put.”

“Ok. We’ll be back before dinner, we can go back out together. Reservation is at 7:30.”

“Okay — see you then.” Sienna dropped the phone back into her bag. She stared out at the ocean and watched a cargo ship make its way steadily across the horizon. Now there’s a job for you. Months and months way out there…

Sienna stared at the ocean a little while longer, and then fished out her book from her bag. “I’m going to finish this book even if it kills me,” she muttered to herself. It was a novel that critics and friends had raved about for months, but it just wasn’t doing it for Sienna. She was, however, not one to abandon any book once she started reading, so along she plodded, feeling a small sense of victory each time she completed a chapter.

A shadow fell across the page and she looked up, “Hey Pete, you guys back already?”

Pete shook his head and dropped himself onto the sand next to Sienna, “They’re still out. Got too hot for me. Better back here with the breeze from the ocean.”

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I just wanted to fuck. Uncomplicated, no strings attached. I’d been feeling the need brewing in me for several weeks but work kept me busy. Finally a break came and I was sent on a business trip to California for a week. I decided to head up the weekend before the conference I was there to attend began. I arrived late Friday afternoon and checked into my hotel.

The accommodations held a four star rating and was beautiful. My room looked out over the pool and it was as I stood at the window enjoying the view that I saw her. A perfect specimen of womanhood from head to toe. She wore a bright blue and white bikini, showing off the luscious curves of her body. Not one of these stick women that seem so prevalent in southern California. Hips, ass, thighs, breasts, all of it waiting for me to explore it.

She looked up as though she could feel me looking at her and our eyes met. I stepped out onto the balcony and she smiled at me. I returned the smile. She moved her head as though signaling me to come down. I nodded to let her know I understood. I returned to my room, jumped in the shower and dressed in a pair of white swim trunks and a blue wife beater. My short hair was still wet when I left the room and headed down to the lobby.

She was waiting for me on a lounge chair with an empty one next to her. “Afternoon.” She greeted. Up close she was even more beautiful. Smooth caramel skin, large full round breasts, a flat stomach and an ass I could see even from the front.

“Good afternoon to you as well. My name is Javon.” I introduced myself.

“Nice to meet you Javon. I’m Cecilia.” She said. Her voice was smooth and honeyed like the rest of her. There was a hint of accent that I couldn’t place. I sat on the lounge chair next to her after moving it as close as I could and still have enough room for us to be able to stand.

“Are you vacationing Cecilia?” I asked. She smiled and it was brilliant.

“I’m here for business and yourself?” She asked. A waiter strolled by and I stopped him to order drinks. She was sipping on an Amaretto sour. I got a fresh one for her and a Vodka Tonic for myself. The way she was watching me, let me know we were looking for the same thing. Still, even when it comes to flings, I’ve never been the type to not show a woman a good time and treat her like a lady.

“I have a conference starting on Monday. Decided to come down a couple of days early and get a little breather. I haven’t been to Cali in years. It’s beautiful.” I replied. I was giving her heavy eye contact to let her know I wasn’t just referring to the terrain.

“Indeed.” She said. She took the fresh drink when the handsome young man returned. I tipped generously because I could still remember busting tables and putting up with the shit that the rich and pretentious put out. He winked at me as he walked away in that way that some men will when they know what you’re up to and have enough cool to not be raucous in their approval.

“Would you be interested in joining me for dinner tonight?” I invited. She smiled.

“In your room or mine?” She returned.

“Wherever you’ll feel more comfortable of course.” I answered. Her chocolate brown eyes moved down the length of my five foot six inch frame slowly. I consider myself an average looking woman. I’m dark skinned, slim and toned, small breasts, not too much ass but not extended back. My lovers are generally pleased with my physique. My eyes are a medium brown, my hair short, black and very curly. My nose is straight speaking to my mixed heritage, my lips full, soft and brown. My hands are pretty big for my size but they match my feet and somehow the rest of me.

“I’m in room 323.” She said.

“Okay. And what time should I be there?”

“Seven.”

“Would you like me to bring anything?” I asked.

“Whatever you’d like to use.” She answered. Yeah we were looking for exactly the same thing.

“I’ll see you at seven.”

I dressed to impress even though we’d probably never leave the room. My suit was cream colored; the silk shirt beneath the jacket was a honey color that brought out my eyes. My shoes matched the shirt and the belt. I was already strapped as I prefer to be prepared. Having to stop to strap up can ruin the mood at some of the most unexpected and unappreciated times.

I knocked on her door promptly at seven. A woman after my own libido, she’d dressed as though we were going to a restaurant to eat as well. The dress she wore was killer red and clung to her body like a second skin. The neckline was a deep V that showed off her cleavage and made my mouth water. Her long dark hair was piled atop her head and my fingers itched to delve into the mass and send it tumbling down. “Hi there.” She greeted. There was a warmth in her voice that matched the anticipation I was feeling.

“Good evening. You looked positively ravishing.” I told her. It wasn’t a line, simply the truth. She smiled softly and I was pleased to see she recognized the sincerity in the compliment as she blushed.

“Thank you. You look quite bursa eskort delectable yourself.” She returned. She blushed but she didn’t back down and I really liked that. She stepped back to allow me entrance. As I said, I’m an average sized woman, but even with her heels, I was two inches taller than her. I have such a weakness for petite women. I watched the plump roundness of her ass as she sashayed farther into the room and wondered if she’d already ordered.

There was a knock on the door before I’d gotten halfway across the spacious suite and my question was answered. I returned to the door and opened it to find the same waiter from earlier. “Evening.” He said with that same knowing smile. “Where would you like it?” He asked. Cecilia spoke before I could.

“In the bedroom.” She said. He moved the tray into the bedroom without another word and returned a moment later. I started to reach for some cash but he shook his head.

“It’s already been taken care of.” He said. I raised my eyebrows. “Enjoy.”

I closed the door and turned to find her leaning in the doorway of the bedroom. When she was sure I was following her every movement with my eyes, she slipped the tip of her finger between the full softness of her lips and sucked gently before sliding it down over the swell of her breasts. I bit my lower lip and tried to remember how to breathe. Her hands moved over her stomach and came to rest at the junction of her legs. “You look real good in that suit. I want to see what you look like out of it.” She said.

I crossed the room to her and followed the same path down her body with my hands that hers had traveled. She shivered beneath my fingertips when they caressed her breasts and I could see her pulse beating rapidly. I kissed her neck just below her ear, flicking my tongue over the area and enjoying the way her breath shuddered from her body. Her hands moved over my arms, up around my neck supporting herself. There’s nothing like making a woman’s knees weak. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. There were already candles set up around the room burning softly.

I set her on her feet next to the bed and kissed her gently. Her eyes closed and she surrendered herself to me. I slid the zipper down on the back of her dress and the material loosened and then slid down to pool at her feet. She stepped out of the silky material and I stepped back to admire what had been revealed to me. She wore a matching bra and panty set in black silk. Her breasts seemed to strain against the confines of the brassiere. I turned her around and caught my breath at the sight of her ass. If I have a weakness for petite women, I’m a fool over a petite woman with a big ass. “Damn.” I whispered. I undid the clasp of her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders. Her breasts were perky on her chest as the bra fell away. I kissed the back of her neck, biting gently, making her moan. The helplessly aroused sound translated into a current of electricity that staggered down my spine and pooled in my clit. I was suddenly viciously turned on and throbbing. My hands cupped her breasts, feeling the pebble hard nipples pressed against my palms.

“Take off your clothes.” She requested breathlessly. I turned her so she faced me and once again stepped back, this time so she could see. I removed the suit jacket and tossed it behind me. My shirt followed suit. I wore no bra and my nipples were already rigid with my arousal beneath the thin wife beater I wore. She licked her lips when I reached for the buckle of my belt and released it. I kicked off my loafers and unzipped the pants. I let them drop to the floor much as her dress had and stepped out of them. Her eyes widened when they got to the bulge between my legs. I will joke with my friends that had I been a man, given the size of my hands and feet, I’d have been well endowed. Since I wasn’t born with a penis, I equip myself with what I’m sure God would have given me had it been meant for me to be a man. My dick was an eight inch python. A thickly veined shaft and a pair of heavy balls gave it a very realistic look and feel.

I moved back up to her, pressing our bodies together. My hands gripped her ass, my need becoming overwhelming. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep it soft and slow. She didn’t mind. Her own hands started at my breasts and eventually she pulled at the undershirt signaling she wanted it gone. Her skin was heated when our flesh met. I lifted her up onto the bed and followed her, kicking off my socks as I went. She lay back allowing me to have my way. We left her heels on and I knelt between her legs touching her with my hands and my eyes. I squeezed her breasts and she cried out. She moaned again and I bent down to capture her nipple with my mouth. I sucked on her, taking as much of the soft flesh into my mouth as I could. Her hands dove into my hair, pressing me closer, tighter. I used my teeth lightly and she writhed beneath me. Her nails dragged down my back making me hiss and urging me on.

I moved between those luscious bursa bayan escort mounds, sucking the nipple into my mouth, laving my tongue over and around it. I moved my hand down between her legs, feeling the heat and wetness that had gathered there. The panties were soaked. I sat back long enough to rip them off and she cried out at the display of force. Her pussy was thick, juicy and naked before me. The hair was completely removed allowing me to see her hard clit. “Eat my pussy.” She requested. The need in her eyes matched my own and she didn’t have to tell me twice. I moved down until I knelt on the side of the bed with her creamy thighs on either side of my head. My hands gripped her hips pulling her roughly toward my hungry mouth. I dove in. She smelled divine and tasted even better! My tongue pushed its way between the slickness of her full outer lips, into the soaked inner folds. I drank her down, loving the spicy sweet flavor of her. My tongue felt acrobatic as it danced inside of her, licking up all the juices that had accumulated there. “Oh God!” She gasped. I hadn’t even gotten to her clit yet. I pushed my tongue as far into her as it would go, stimulating her. She gripped my hair and I could feel her pussy spasm in my mouth. I knew she was going to cum. Her hands fluttered back and forth between my hair, my shoulders and gripping the sheets as the sensation built in her. The closer she got to completion, the tighter my own pussy grew. The throbbing was a delicious reminder of what I was making this woman feel.

I wanted to feel her reach the flash point. I slipped two fingers deep inside of her at the same moment I moved my tongue up to slither over her engorged clit. She gripped the sheets tightly and screamed. I suckled her clit as she rode the orgasm out. My fingers which has been pressing rhythmically against her G-spot, were gripped so tightly by her walls, I could do no more than press up slightly to try and prolong the climax. When it finally crested, she collapsed back to the bed. I continued to lick on her. Her nectar had grown even more sweetly pungent as she flooded my hand and I couldn’t seem to get enough of the taste of her. I moved my fingers deeper inside of her and added a third to make sure she would be ready for me. She was wet and open but her pussy was still very tight and I didn’t want to hurt her.

After she achieved another shattering peak, I withdrew from her and flipped her over. I pulled her shoes off and then spread the heavy globes of her ass so I could push my tongue into her wet puckered hole. She’d leaked so copiously, my tongue slid into her ass as easily as it had into her pussy. “Oh shit!” She cried not having expected the sensation. I held her in place, showing her ass as much attention as I’d given her pussy. I sucked on the sensitive hole and pushed my fingers back into her still convulsing cunt. “Yes, Jesus, that feels so good!” She cried out.

I could hardly stand it. My clit was like a rock beneath the strap and I wanted to watch the dick sliding in and out of her wetness. I forced myself to wait. I wanted to plunder her ass with the dick too and I wanted to make sure she was good and open when the time came. “Please, please. Fuck me Javon.” She begged. I could never refuse a begging woman. I pulled the dick out and knelt behind her positioning the bulbous head at the angry red opening of her pussy. She watched from underneath herself as I pushed into her. “Oh, fuuuuccck!” She groaned as she was stretched to accommodate the monster. I got half way in and withdrew until only the head remained then slammed back into her. She thrashed on the bed but pressed herself back against me taking the rest of it. “Yes, yes, fuck me.” She panted.

I pulled back and slammed into her again. My rhythm was ruthless. Each time I pushed into her she cried out. Her hips pistoned back against me, meeting me thrust for thrust. I slapped her ass and she screamed my name. I watched the shudders run through her small frame as she beat her fists against the bed. I spread her ass cheeks, allowing the dick to slide even deeper inside of her. I gripped a fistful of her hair which had begun to tumble with her movements. Her head came up and I pulled until it was as far back as I was comfortable making her neck bend. “Scream for me bitch!” I commanded. My hips continued their steady pounding into her yielding pussy and she did as I asked. She screamed as she came and my own orgasm could not be prolonged any longer. I grunted as it shivered through me.

“Yeah, cum for me Big Daddy.” She encouraged. She ground herself back against me expertly as though we’d done this many times before.

When I had regained my composure I pulled out of her and was pleasantly surprised when she pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me. She gripped the thick black phallus and eased herself down on it. She hissed slightly as it filled her once again. The angle was different, deeper. She squatted over me, the dick half way inside of her. “Watch.” She instructed. bursa ucuz escort Her fingers moved down so she could separate the lips of her swollen sex. Her clit was hard and pulsing. I put my hands behind my head and watched her sink the rest of the way down. She lifted herself up and then slid back down again. The visual was delicious. I watched those thick lips swallow my dick and spit it back out. Each time it slid back out of her, it glistened with her wetness.

I put my feet flat on the bed and began thrusting my hips up into her. She cried out in surprise at first then we found our rhythm and every time I thrust up, she slammed herself down onto me. Her hair was a sex tousled mass spilling down her back and over her shoulders. Her head was thrown back and her eyes closed as she lost herself. It remains one of the most erotic images I’ve ever seen. I slid my hands up to cup her breasts. My thumb and forefinger squeezed her nipples to just this side of real pain and she looked down at me with those intense brown eyes of hers. She took one of my hands and drew my fingertips between her lips. She sucked her essence off my fingers and continued to ride herself to orgasm. “Oh, yes. Oh, shit, I’m going to come. Oh, fuck me, I’m coming!” She cried. She collapsed forward onto me and passed out.

We lay there for countless minutes half in and out of slumber. Our hearts pounded together. I caressed her back gently, calming her. Some unknown amount of time later, she eased off of me. I pulled her against my chest and we slept until late in the night.

I woke to the feeling of her slowly rubbing her clit back and forth across my lips. My eyes fluttered open and she grinned down at me. My hands moved up to clasp her hips and steady her as my tongue came out to find it’s way once more inside of her. Her eyes closed and her head rolled back. “Oh, yes.” She moaned softly. I licked slowly, rolling her clit with my tongue, savoring her. “God, I thought I’d dreamed you being this good.” She said. I grinned against her and her eyes opened and smiled down at me.

My hands moved over her ass, up along her back and around to the front of her body so I could caress her breasts. I could feel her shivering as my tongue flickered rapidly back and forth over her clit. I pulled back just before she reached critical mass and she groaned in frustration. I like to tease sometimes. I moved suddenly flipping her over onto her back. She gasped at the unexpected movement then giggled. I lifted myself up into a push up position above her lower body and gazed down at her. “We didn’t get to the food.”

“It’s chocolate and whipped cream. I figured we’d order real food when we were done.” She advised me.

“Sweetheart, the way you taste I could spend this entire week eating just you and still not be done.” I said. She flushed attractively and I found it endearing. “Let’s see about that chocolate.” I said then bounded off the bed. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked over to the tray and lifted the top. The whipped cream had long since melted but the chocolate would be just fine. I grabbed the bottle and turned back to the bed.

“How do you want me?” She inquired. I grinned devilishly.

“First, I’m going to put chocolate on your nipples and suck it off. Then I’m going trail the syrup down your stomach, between your legs and I’m going to lick and suck you clean. And when you’ve come for me a few times and your pussy is soaking wet, I’m going to shove my fat ass dick inside of you again. I’m going to fuck you til your eyes cross and your toes curl and you’re crying because it feels so good. Then I’m going to pull my dick out of your pussy and ease it into your tight ass. I’m going to show you pleasure like you’ve never known it before.” I informed her. Her breathing had grown labored at my forward words. Her dark eyes sparkled with anticipation.

I climbed onto the bed and knelt between her legs. As promised I started with her breasts, letting a small stream of chocolate coat her breasts. I bent and licked the sugary treat off of her in long catlike strokes of my tongue. I suckled her breasts, pulled her nipples into my mouth and bit gently. I poured more chocolate down the flat plane of her stomach and repeated the process all the way down to the plump mound of her pussy. She writhed beneath the onslaught of my warm mouth as I devoured her and the chocolate that coated her. She was so wet by time I was done, my tool slid into her easily when I finally position it at her entrance and pushed forward.

“Damn your pussy is soaked.” I commented as she took my length effortlessly.

“Jesus, stop teasing me and fuck this pussy.” She commanded. I smiled but did as told and began pounding into her. I lifted her hips and held them in place while I slid in and out of her in a powerful driving rhythm. Her body glistened with the sweat of our exertion and my fingers dug into her skin to keep my grip. “Oh my God, oh my God, right there. Don’t stop boo, keep fucking me.” I gritted my teeth, ignored the protesting of my thigh muscles and continued to drill her pussy until finally her body seized up and she screamed. Her pussy pulsed twice and then released her orgasm. My stomach was coated with her juices and the knowledge that she had shot off for me (something I had never experienced) had me cumming all over myself.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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

Nikki is coming today. Her room is ready, and so is mine. When she arrives I will be dressed in a very tight pair of black jeans. My shirt is red and white. The shirt is sleeveless with a golden tan. My hair is just cut with teddy bear fuzz at the bottom of my hairline.

The doorbell rang and I set off the automatic door to let her in. She was blindfolded by my doorman just like I asked. I walked out of my bedroom and stood at the top of the stairs. Take off your blindfold. She looked around obviously looking for me. It had been one year since I had seen her.

Finally she looked up at me. She had been in Texas so her accent was thick when she said, “Hello Beautiful.”

I walked down the stairs, straight to her and kissed her with a long-standing passion that hadn’t diminished a bit. “Hey Nikki, I missed you.” I took her hand and proceeded to show her the house.

First, I showed her the all nude pool and hot tub. There is another pool but it is swimming suit required and it has only been used once. We walked through the dining room and kitchen. I showed her the backyard and all the possible sex items. Lying there was a bouquet of red carnations.

We walked through the living area and then headed upstairs. We walked past the double doors and she asked about the room. “That is my room.” She tried to open the door but couldn’t. I proceeded down the hall, she caught up to me and I told her bursa escort about each room. Some she wanted to see and I showed her. Finally, we came to her bedroom.

I handed her a note that said, “Say this. Open, please.” The door opened and the room was in all red and black. There were 2 dozen long stem red and yellow roses on the bed. She was looking around and opened a drawer with her name on it. There was lingerie and underwear just for her and then she turned around and I was holding a black sequin cocktail dress.

“We are dancing tonight.” I laid her dress on the bed. I took her hand and continued on. I leaned her against the next door and kissed her. I opened the door and her mouth dropped. She just entered my sex toy room and then into my porn room. She tried to go through the next-door but couldn’t. That is the dance room and then we left.

I left her in her room and told her to meet me in the pool in 5 minutes. Then I went to my room to make sure everything was ok. My husband at the control panel, my husband, was having fun looking at every room and at Nikki. “We are heading to the pool, any requests.”

“Lots of teasing.”

I preceded down to find her already in the hot tub. I slid in and within minutes she came to me to kiss me to say thank you. We talked about what was going on and then I asked about her husband.

“I wish that he would just say yes, because bursa escort bayan I know he likes you but he just won’t.” She came to me and we started kissing and teasing each other again. I jumped out and went the pool. She was right behind me and the teasing each other. I jumped out and went to the pool. She was right behind me and the teasing continued. We talked and played and I did all sorts of teasing my request of my husband.

We got out and went to eat. There was turkey and all kinds of cheeses laid out. I put cheez-whiz on her tits and sucked it off, then licked and sucked on her neck, purposely leaving a mark.

All she could say was, “Why can’t he just trust me?”

We went back to our rooms and got ready to party. She called me and asked, “What is the personal attendant button for?

I told her, “A very beautiful lady will come to your room and do anything you need to get ready, make-up, hair, anything not sexual.”

My husband watched intently as she and I got ready. I wore black pants that complimented me and a vibrant red shirt that just wreaked of fuck me. Then, I had my make-up and hair done. There were sparkles everywhere and finally the most irresistible scent, sex pheromones with my water scent.

My husband came over to smell me and then felt me up. He would have time to get ready while watching as party gets started. I bursa merkez escort went to the party room and waited for her. She rang the doorbell and I opened the door. It was dark so she couldn’t see anything. I softly blindfolded her and said, “Lights, music, action.” I took the blindfold off.

Here is what she saw. Yellow and bright green lights accented a variety of strippers. All my men were in tuxedos with or without sleeves and blindfolds. Any of the sleeveless guys you could rip their pants off and a variety of dancing friends. Just saying dismissed can dismiss anyone and the DJ will play anything you want.

I walked around her and led her to the floor. She grabbed me and kissed me like she was possessed. One by one as she partied she dismissed people. She had unlimited supply of $1’s for the strippers.

Finally, it was just her and I and she asked for a slow song. We danced and stared into each other’s eyes. I blindfolded her and said, “I have one more surprise.” I took the blindfold off and there stood her husband in a tux. I stepped back and they danced. I had the lights dimmed as I left.

I went back to my room and put on a black nightie with a long black see through robe and I waited. Soon there was a knock on my door. “What can I do for you Nikki?” “We need to talk to you.”

“Go to your room and find your next surprise and then come back if the answer is yes.”

Nikki’s husband slipped away from her through the trap door, giving her the answer. He came into my room and settled back, showering me with compliments. About 20 minutes later there was a knock on my door.

“Do you want to be with me tonight? If so, the door is open.”

To be continued…

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

During high school I lived in a small town in the mid-west where nothing ever happens. We had a drive-in movie that had just reopened, a bowling alley, a pizza joint, a supermarket, and two gas stations. The summer before I left for Iowa State University, I worked in our town’s supermarket so I had some spending money in the fall. When I wasn’t working, I just read books or surfed the web. On the cool summer nights, I cruised the quiet streets our little town with my best friend Jill. She was always there for me through good times or bad, and we sure had fun that summer before going off to the big world.

Jill and I operated the checkouts at the supermarket and we would always tease our boss Rickey, just to make the days more interesting. Rickey was a year younger than us, but he was the owners son, so he was our manager. He was cute and easy to embarrass, so we cut him a break and followed his rules most of the time. Rickey was shorter than us and probably 120 lbs. soaking wet, so he wasn’t hard to intimidate. We liked to think we were so worldly, particularly in our little short blue uniforms. Rickey’s dad had let us pick them out from a uniform catalog, and we chose the shortest ones they sold just to tease Rickey.

On our breaks, we would take a cup of coffee to the loading bay, smoke a cigarette and flirt with the truck drivers. We often managed to give Rickey a sly look on our way out, but most of the time we purposely ignored him just to drive him crazy. We would giggle when he stared at us during the work day, and make comments in a voice too low to hear, just to make him blush. He was really surprised when Jill and I sauntered up to him while on break one Saturday afternoon, and asked him if he would like to join us at the drive-in movie that night. We figured the kid would get a kick out of going to the movies with us, and we enjoyed toying with him.

“I don’t have a car yet” he stammered, blushing in embarrassment.

“He’s probably too young to drive” laughed Jill, as she lit up a Marlboro and then snapped her Zippo closed.

“I’ve got a pick-up” I said, blowing a bubble with my gum until it popped. “We’ll go in that, see you at eight.”

I wore cutoff jeans and a T-shirt with no bra, and flip flops to show off my brightly painted toenails. Jill wore her favorite little white dress shirt tied at the waist, and a plaid skirt with pair of pink Converse. We picked Rickey up outside the store, and when Jill slid out of the pick-up to let him in, his eyes almost popped out of his head. He gawked at her legs extending from the short skirt, and she started teasing him right away.

“Stop staring, boy” she laughed, “and get in.”

He was wedged in between us, and when our perfume began sweeping over him I thought he was going to pass out. His cheeks were flushed and he looked like he was in heaven as we pushed escort bayan against his body. He glanced from side to side as my bra-less boobs bounced, and Jill’s little boobies jiggled. Rickey smiled all the way down that dusty county road. To my surprise, Jill placed her hand on his thigh, and her long middle finger began to slowly trace a small circle on his jeans. By the time we parked in the drive-in it was almost dark, but there was a noticeable bulge in his jeans. His face was red hot with embarrassment, and he knew we could see he had boner by the light from the dashboard.

“Let’s get comfortable” I said, putting my right arm behind him. Jill did the same with her left arm and had a very devilish grin on her face. Our bodies had pinned his arms to the seat back, and we rested our free hands on his thighs. We continued to draw little circles on his thighs, moving a little closer to his crotch as his hard little cock throbbed in his jeans.

“Look Jill” I said with a smirk. “Rickey’s pants sure look tight.”

Jill leaned over to look at his crotch and he blushed even more. “You’re right, girl. That looks kind of uncomfortable to me. Is that uncomfortable, Rickey?” Jill asked in a husky voice. His face burned even brighter red when she moved her middle finger up to her mouth and gently sucked it. Jill then reached down slowly and undid the top of his jeans. “You need to loosen these” she said, smothering a laugh.

I hadn’t intended for things to go beyond teasing, but this was getting really interesting now. Rickey tried to move his arms but they were jammed tight between us and the seat. Then Jill slowly lowered his zipper down over the lump in his pants.

“Lift up, Rickey” Jill ordered.

“What… what are you doing?” he stuttered.

“Lift up” she snapped. Jill then gripped his balls through his jeans and he quickly lifted up so she could slide his jeans down. In front of us, the movie screen flickered and the cars around us were full of people watching the movie. Rickey could feel the cold night air across his crotch and he looked down in embarrassment, as we looked at his very hard little cock waving in the breeze. His arms were trapped, and his jeans and shorts were now down around his ankles, leaving us in control.

“Hmm, what do you think?” Jill asked, looking at his cock and then glancing at me. “I think it’s kind of average,” she said as she lightly traced his cock with her fingers. Then she surrounded it with her palm, making him jerk at the sudden soft contact of her warm hand.

“Now, Rickey,” she laughed. “Just relax. We’re just going to play with this little guy for a while.”

Her hand started to move up and down his cock and he trembled as I stared on in disbelief. I had only seen one other penis, and Rickey’s was nice looking. Not big, but really hard with a perfect little görükle escort helmet. After a few strokes Jill turned to me with an evil look and said, “And NO cumming until we say so, RICKEY. If you cum, we are LEAVING and you are not going with us”.

“Is that nice?” Jill asked him, switching her voice to a soft tone. I watched her move slowly up and down his hot little cock, and when he didn’t answer Jill stopped. His cock twitched in her hand and I thought he was going to cum right then, but he held back as his little butt squirmed on the vinyl seat.

I looked at him with a sly grin and whispered “Answer her Rickey. Jill asked you a question.”

“Yes” he gasped. “It’s nice.”

“Guess you don’t want to watch the movie then” Jill laughed and her hand began to slide slowly up and down his cock until he was balancing on the edge. He was seconds from spurting all over her hand when she suddenly stopped. “I wouldn’t mind watching the movie a little, what about you Rickey?” Jill whispered as we both smirked again at his contorted face. His breathing was ragged and his now bright red cock twitched as she firmly squeezed the base.

“Poor boy,” laughed Jill. “Were you close?” We ignored him for a moment while we commented on the movie. When I had the urge to join the fun, I turned a little more towards Rickey so my left hand could also reach his cock.

“Now” I said, “You’ll have to tell us who’s the best at this”. I lightly blew in his ear as my hand started to move up and down. He was gasping on the edge, and his hips started to rise after just a few strokes. I stopped and squeezed the base firmly like Jill did, to keep that little guy under control.

“Please don’t” he whimpered.

“Don’t what?” Jill asked innocently as she pushed her lower lip out mocking his whimpering plea.

“Don’t stop, please” he begged, his arms still pinned behind him as his entire body trembled. This was really fun now, making this poor boy tremble and beg for relief.

“I guess when you jerk off, you do it really fast, huh?” Jill smiled. “Well, do you?” she pressed when he didn’t answer.

“Yes” he said, his face burning in shame.

“Who do you think about when you jerk off?” I asked.

“Do you think about us when you jerk off?” Jill asked slyly.

“Yes” he said, almost crying and breathing heavily. We both laughed at how pathetic he sounded.

“How sweet” Jill whispered as she kissed the air by his other ear.

“Do you think about our legs?” Jill asked as she was lifting her skirt up, “or our pretty little panties?”. His eyes were glued to her long tanned legs and then her black lacy panties. He nodded slightly, his eyes pleading for more as he sucked air in through his nose.

“A leg man” I said as my fingers were sliding over his cock. He shuddered again, bursa elit escort now trying to hold his breath. I gripped the shaft firmly and started to slowly pull, spreading his leaking fluids around the tip with my thumb. He was really close now, and he whimpered and squirmed again. I moved down and squeezed firmly at the base again.

“Don’t you fucking come until we tell you, Rickey” Jill warned in her stern voice again.

“Have you had a hand job before, Rickey?” Jill whispered, now using a sweet tone. He slowly nodded and whimpered “just once”.

“Who did it?” I whispered in his ear.

“Jo Beth, the night time stock girl” he muttered, gritting his teeth as I released my firm grip at the base of his engorged little cock. “That slut, that’s why she gets all the overtime” I smirked, pulling my hand away as he continued to quiver on the edge again.

“You know” Jill announced, “I feel like a coke.”

“Me too” I said as I reached over and firmly flicked the head of Rickey’s hot little cock.

“Go get us one, Rickey” Jill said and we leaned forward so he could free his arms. His face was crimson and sweating, and he barely managed to tuck his throbbing cock back into his pants. It had to hurt by now, and I’m sure his little balls were ready to burst.

His body was still visibly trembling as he walked to the snack bar and somehow managed to buy two large cokes. As he started to walk back, Jill and I appeared and pulled him into the shadows next to the ladies toilets. We both pressed up against him and stroked his still hard cock through his jeans.

“Time to thank you for the cokes” Jill whispered as our hands brought him closer to relief, and she leaned in to kiss me. He watched as our heads tilted and our lips lightly touched. Then our eyes began to flutter, and we whimpered as our tongues entered each others mouth for the very first time.

“No” he groaned, “Not in my pants!”

Our hands moved faster and faster over his little denim encased hard-on, as Jill’s tongue circled around mine. He shuddered when I sucked Jill’s tongue into my mouth like a little penis, and groaned as he spurted into his pants. His hips jerked several times, his eyes rolled back and he almost fell to the ground. Jill and I smiled, took the cokes and stepped away to admire our handiwork. He was gasping for breath as we looked down to see a wet stain spreading across his jeans. We had coaxed a big load out of that poor boy.

“Thanks for the cokes Rickey” giggled Jill. “Too bad we have to leave now, because you didn’t wait for permission to cum.” Then I sarcastically added “Poor Rickey, now your pants are all wet” as I pushed my lower lip out. We looked at each other and we both busted out laughing as we walked arm in arm to my pick-up.

Just before we were out of sight, Jill turned and called over her shoulder in a sing song voice, “See you at work, Rickey”. He was still stunned, and glanced around to see if anyone had been watching. Then he ducked into the men’s toilets to clean himself up. It was the beginning of a great summer, and the start of my realization of how much I was into girls.

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

She agreed to take me late at night, I had a surprise interview the following day. I had been going to her for four years and we had always been flirtatious with each other, in a playful way. She was about ten years my senior, very pretty, and sweet. Her strong hands always titillated me the way she would be tolerably rough the way she jerked my head around and pulled my hair when cutting and washing it.

Usually, she’d say something about how beautiful I was, followed by me saying I was thinking about going gay for her, or something silly like that. I did remember last time she cut my hair she actually kind of actually hit on me, so needless to say when I got to the salon and it was just me and her, there was some mild tension.

When she drew all the shades and locked the door my knees weakened and my pulse rose. She shampooed my hair thoroughly, telling me my body was amazing and if she was a guy she would fuck me senseless. I just laughed, but while she was rinsing, all bursa escort of the sudden I was soaked. Not necessarily just my pussy, but she had sprayed my whole body with the hot water.

“Oh, Jeez. My bad. We have a dryer, I’ll take care of you.” She stripped off my top and bra, then got on her knees and pulled off my sneakers, sweatpants, and underwear. She retreated to the back leaving me there totally exposed, and helpless as to what I should, and could, do. I heard a dryer start, and it relaxed me some, but I still had (almost) no idea where this was headed.

She came back and wrapped a towel around my hair, but she also covered my eyes with it and leaned my head back into the sink. Hot water again poured all over my body. I didn’t move. I hadn’t put my body, that does look custom built for sex, to its purpose for far too long and tonight I was hers. She began scrubbing me with some exfoliating body scrub that was gritty and felt fucking heavenly when she rubbed bursa ucuz escort my nipples with it. When she moved both of her hands to my pussy with it, I spread my legs wide and lifted my feet from the floor, clearing her for takeoff.

After she almost got me off with her hands and that scrub I was certainly buying later, she again sprayed me, but this time focused the shower nozzle on my thumping, bald pussy. Apparently, she intended to mop the floor later. I actually backed up, pushing myself up and into the fucking sink for her, it felt like this was how she was gonna make me come.

She stopped when I was almost there, and took me with her mouth, ravaging me with her pretty lips and tongue for a few minutes, She lapped at my pretty vulva like a dog that had found an ice cream cone, saying “Mmmm, so good,” before switching back to the hot water. When she turned the nozzle from shower to massage, I lost my fucking mind. I almost bursa elit escort fell out of the sink twice, before she pinned me to the wall, and tortured my clit and canal with the hot water cock for who knows how long. Time stopped having a meaning the second time she soaked me in the chair.

“I’ve wanted to do this to you every time I’ve washed your hair since you turned eighteen,” she said as she ran the impromptu sex device up and down over my engorged clit and puckering opening. As she pressed it against me, her tongue invaded my throat. It felt like a bear was searching my esophagus for honey.

“Oh my God! Don’t stop!” I screamed as I desperately tried to fuck the nozzle, rolling my hips and pushing my throbbing pussy into it. I made a mental note to stop by a bath showroom on the way home to check out their handheld shower tools.

As I began to turn into a puddle like the large one forming at her feet, my body began to convulse and quake. I cried in exquisite pleasure, some word that was new to me and I believe meant something to the tune of, “Holy fuck, I do believe I am going to explode right now.”

After I came so hard that I thought I may faint, she kissed me and said. “So, how short do you wanna go with your hair tonight, sweety?”

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