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

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

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

***

Chloe’s Return Pt. 02

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was gaining though. I was definitely gaining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmhmmm,” you moan in reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are consenting adults over the age of 18.

————

Near midnight on Saturday, a notification on the Headmaster’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen and saw the message: Activity in Room 9. That was unusual this late at night. He pulled up the camera feed.

Robin and Valerie were in Jennifer and Liza’s room. On the weekend, the young women were supposed to be in their rooms by 10 pm, and in bed with the lights off by 11. He streamed the feed to his large flatscreen monitor and turned on the audio.

“Let’s play cards!” Liza suggested, grabbing a deck from her desk.

“And let’s make it interesting. Look what I found while cleaning the chapel,” Jennifer shared excitedly, retrieving a bottle of wine from her backpack. “Lucky it was already opened, I don’t know how to use a corkscrew, even if I had one,” she laughed. She pulled out the cork and took a swig. “No cups, sorry,” she said, handing the bottle to Valerie.

Playing cards after hours and drinking stolen wine? What would be a suitable punishment? the Headmaster mused.

“So… what shall we play? Crazy-8s?” Liza suggested.

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s deal one card each. Low-card has to do a truth-or-dare from the high-card holder, and the other two drink… or take off a piece of clothing?” Robin suggested.

“Sounds like a game you’d like, Robin – at least with us girls playing,” Jennifer teased. They all knew the redhead’s proclivities. “But I’m in!”

“Sure, sounds fun,” Valerie agreed, taking a drink and passing the bottle to Robin.

Liza dealt the cards. Jen had the high card, and Valerie had the lowest. Liza took a drink since all she had on were her pajamas and panties. Robin took off a sock and tossed it on the floor. “Ok, Val, Truth, or Dare?”

Valerie considered for a moment. “I don’t trust that wicked look in your eye, Jen – I’ll take Truth.”

“Ok… What happened in the Headmaster’s office yesterday? Word is, you were in there over an hour.”

Valerie blushed enough that it showed even with her mahogany skin. “He made me… bathe him,” she confessed. “For an hour?” Jen asked. Valerie nodded. “… with my tongue.” The rize escort other girls looked at her with wide eyes and open mouths. “Why? What did you do?” Jen asked. “Sorry, you only get one question,” Valerie smiled.

“Quick, deal another round, Jen! Maybe she’ll get the low card again,” Liza said, handing her roommate the deck. This time, Robin got the high card – she stuck out her tongue at Liza, who shared the low card with Jen. Valerie opted for the drink and took a big gulp of wine.

“Dare,” both women said, even before Robin asked. “Ok – I want you two to make out,” Robin dared them.

Jen didn’t hesitate. She held Liza’s head and leaned over to kiss her. Robin and Valerie watched, smiling. “More tongue!” she teased them. Jen obliged, pulling back for a moment so they could watch as she caressed Liza’s tongue with her own.

Valerie got the high card in the third hand, and Jen got the low one again. Liza drank, and Robin tossed her other sock. “Hmm.. I’ll try Truth,” she decided. “Ok – when was the last time you masturbated, and how?” Valerie asked.

“Umm… this morning,” Jen admitted, smiling. Liza turned to look at her. “While you were in the shower. Oh, and I used my toothbrush – it’s electric,” she added, shrugging.

Valerie dealt. Liza received the high card and Robin the low. Jen and Valerie both drank, finishing the wine. “Truth, I guess”, Robin said. “Okay. Which one of us do you find most attractive?” Val asked. Robin’s blush was much easier to see with her pale skin.

Robin hesitated. “You’re all very attractive. I think… Liza’s the cutest, and Jen has the best boobs, but if I had to pick one, it would be Val.” Valerie smiled and kissed her roommate.

In the next round, Jen got the high card, and Valerie got the low one. But both were looking at Liza and Robin since the wine was gone, and they had to take off their tops. After watching the blonde and redhead disrobe, Jen turned to Valerie. “Dare, I assume?” Val nodded; she didn’t want to answer any more questions about her last punishment.

“I want you to suck on Robin’s nipples,” Jen told her. Val smirked, and gently pushed Robin down so she was face-up on the bed. She opened her mouth and tried to cover one of the girl’s large areolas, sucking in the nipple and as much of the tit as she could. Robin closed her eyes and moaned softly.

Without sakarya escort asking, Jen put her hand behind Liza’s neck and guided her mouth down to the other tit. Liza tried to follow Val’s example and sucked the nipple deep into her mouth. Robin wrapped her hands around both of them, holding them against her.

“Time’s up,” Jen said breathlessly, after a minute or two. She dealt another round of cards. Robin and Val both got aces, and Jen ended up with the low card. That meant Liza had to remove her bottoms; she was left wearing only her panties.

“Truth or Dare?” Robin asked. “Dare,” Jen responded. Val and Robin conferred quietly, and then Val said “Okay, but we each get to dare you; it’s only fair.” Jen nodded.

Robin went first: “I dare you to take off all your clothes.” Jen didn’t argue; She pulled her t-shirt over her head and wiggled out of her PJ bottoms and panties together. “You’re bare – even more than Sister Anne,” Robin noted, surprised. “The Headmaster said I need to keep it that way… long story,” she admitted.

Val got up and retrieved Jen’s electric toothbrush from their sink, and handed it to her. “I dare you to show us how you used it this morning – but I want you to show us on Liza.”

Jen had Liza move to the head of the bed and reclined against a stack of pillows. She spread her roommate’s legs and pushed her knees up. Liza closed her eyes but didn’t resist; she was pleasantly buzzing from the wine. Jen positioned herself between Liza’s legs, and the other two students crowded in to watch.

Without removing the young woman’s panties, Jen lightly caressed her mound for a minute or so. Then using her thumb and finger, she pressed the panties down revealing the shape of Liza’s labia through the thin fabric. Using the toothbrush, she rubbed up and down between the lips until Liza was moaning in pleasure. A small damp spot spread between her lips.

Jen pressed the back of the toothbrush against Liza’s panties over her clit, and then turned it on. The intense vibration was almost too much for her, and she squirmed uncontrollably. Robin and Val each held one of her legs, and Jen kept pressing with the makeshift vibrator until Liza’s legs shook and she begged Jen to stop. “Congrats on your first orgasm, roomie,” she said, smiling.

“My turn, Liza,” Robin told the girl, samsun escort helping her stand. “Your panties are soaked! Let me help you out of them.” Robin squatted down, pulled Liza’s panties down to her ankles, and helped her step out of them.

Her face was just inches from Liza’s damp pussy, and her eyes were drawn to it. She inhaled. “You smell so good,” she said quietly, looking up at Liza. Without thinking, Liza reached down and ran her fingers through Robin’s bushy red hair. She pulled the woman’s head into her, pressing her face between her legs. Robin responded by kissing her, and then couldn’t resist licking between her lips, tasting her.

“Jen… would you do that to me? With the toothbrush, I mean?” Robin asked. Jen nodded and smiled. Robin wiggled out of her PJ bottoms and her panties, now completely naked.

All pretenses of the card game were forgotten. Liza helped Robin back onto the bed, lying down flat instead of propped up with pillows. Then she straddled Robin’s head and lowered herself down onto the girl’s mouth. She felt Robin’s tongue pushing into her, a strange but intensely pleasurable sensation. Without knowing what she was doing, Liza began grinding her wet pussy against Robin, smearing her arousal across the redhead’s face.

Jen moved between Robin’s legs, and carefully pressed Robin’s coppery pubic hair to the side, so it wouldn’t get caught as she applied the vibrating toothbrush to her clitoris. Valerie joined her, just watching at first, but she reached forward, spreading Robin’s lips apart with her thumbs, so Jen had better access.

A few minutes later, Liza climaxed again, dripping into Robin’s mouth before collapsing next to her on the bed. The powerful vibration against Robin’s clit was almost more than she could take. She tried to bring her legs together, but Jen and Val were both in the way.

Jen could tell that the direct stimulation was too much for Robin, her clit had become too sensitive. Instead, she used the handle of the toothbrush, which was a much softer vibration. But Valerie wanted more. She slowly pushed her finger into Robin’s tight young pussy, and then began thrusting in and out, finger-fucking her.

Liza heard Robin groaning, and reached over to comfort her. Her hand cupped Robin’s soft breast, and her thumb played with her nipple. All of these combined pushed Robin over the edge, and her body quivered as the waves of orgasm surged through her.

Exhausted but happy, Val helped Robin pull on her PJs, and they said goodnight to Liza and Jen, who were curled up together on Liza’s bed.

When Robin and Valerie returned to their room, the Headmaster was waiting for them.

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

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

Author’s note: This is a chapter in a series that will include themes of fauxcest (daughter with adoptive parents), mommydomme, and embarrassment. Please do not read if such themes offend you, or if you can’t enjoy the silliness of the premise, and I’d advise you to start from the beginning if you haven’t read the preceding chapters! All characters in this story are 18 or over.

This is part of the ‘Sapphire Lane’ universe which is a collection of various series all set on Sapphire Lane, each lesbian related but exploring different kinks.

Chapter 10

Cassidy and her adoptive mom Sarah returned home to No. 25 Sapphire Lane, with the teen spending the drive reflecting on the public spanking she had just received. She supposed she should be thankful that the punishment had only been witnessed by one person, as she could have been seen, with her tennis skirt flipped up to expose her panties while she straddled her mom’s knees, by any number of strangers however this had set the mortifying precedent that not only could she be spanked, but that these spankings could take place in public. Though Cassidy knew she was a good girl, she also knew it was likely her strict mom would again find fault in even her best behaviour, and she was fearful where the next public spanking might occur…

She consoled herself by again imagining that Brieanna, the woman who had seen her being spanked, would at least be inspired to discipline her own daughter Sinead, as Cassidy felt she would happily take spankings if she knew the petite redhead with her mocking smirk, was also subjected to the same kind of demeaning punishment. However the brunette couldn’t help being a bit ashamed of these spiteful thoughts of revenge, and told herself she should feel sympathy for the Irish girl, as receiving spankings from Sarah only demonstrated the woman cared about her, so she knew she should be grateful for the stern maternal attention which the other girl obviously was lacking.

‘Anyway, the spanking is behind me now, and I have an afternoon of relaxing with mom by the pool to look forward to!’ Cassidy thought, envisioning the full body massage she would be giving the blonde’s athletic body, hopeful that the woman would enjoy it as much as her mommy Zafira did.

****

“Let’s get changed into our swimwear.” Sarah said when they were home, and Cassidy inwardly groaned, embarrassed that it meant wearing her bright pink swimsuit with the picture of Disney princesses on the front, however, like the rest of her new wardrobe, knew that she would just have to get used to it, especially since mommy had gotten rid of her old navy blue swimsuit.

They went up the stairs to their rooms to change. “Wait a sec, I’ve got you another swimsuit to wear instead of your silly princess one. I slipped it in when I went to the cashier, remember as you went off to get us hot chocolates while I paid? Wait when I fetch it…” Sarah said, disappearing into her room will Cassidy waited on the landing. She hoped it would be a normal swimsuit; something modest and in a mature colour however recalled all the outrageous micro bikinis the woman had made her try on in the swimsuit store, and feared it’d be one of them.

Sure enough, it was instantly clear from the material, or lack of, that Sarah was holding when she returned, that this new swimsuit would not be anything she would ever choose to wear herself. “Here you go darling, now hurry and get changed as I’m aching for that massage!” The blonde grinned.

“Thanks mom.” Cassidy smiled sweetly, wanting to appear grateful as always, then, when her mom had returned to her room, examined the new swimsuit. It was a tiny micro bikini, teardrop in style, with what little material it had coloured bright yellow, while the straps were hot pink. From experience of the tiny bikinis she had to try on while swimsuit shopping, she knew the G-string bottoms would feel wedgied between her butt cheeks, while the top would pretty much only cover her nipples and areola. ‘At least it’s not that awful sling one-piece I tried on… as that was a nightmare to even work out how it was meant to be worn, and felt so flimsy I thought mom tugging at the strap would cause the whole thing to unravel off me… not that this one looks like it’ll robustly cover my body either…’

Cassidy went to her room to change, confirming that the micro bikini indeed covered her nipples, areola, and vulva, but little else… with her little breasts and plump teen butt, the back of the G-string disappearing between her buttocks, both fully exposed as well as her mons pubis which made her thankful she was now clean shaven down there, as otherwise her pubic bush would be on full display. She examined herself in the mirror, shrugging to herself, as after all she was becoming increasingly used to exposing her body to her adoptive parents, and this bikini didn’t show off much more than her maid panties she wore for cleaning.

She did briefly think that she may as well just be naked rather than dressed in the ridiculously trabzon escort skimpy bikini but supposed the bright colours of it at least highlighted her private parts were covered, being too garish for anyone to at a glance think she was completely nude. The teen wondered if this was better or worse than her pink princess one-piece swimsuit, thinking that both were embarrassing but in completely different ways…

She met her mom, who had changed into her sky blue bikini, downstairs, and couldn’t help admiring the blonde’s lean but still feminine body, especially her breasts, smaller than her mommy’s but perfectly shaped and firm, subtly enhanced by surgery. She blushed to herself as she wished that they could swap swimwear, thinking if she had to wear a bikini she would much prefer the normal one her mom had, while thinking how hot the blonde would look in the tiny micro bikini, much more so than her own soft teen body did.

“Cute…” Sarah smirked, looking her adopted daughter up and down. “Okay, grab the massage things and let’s go.”

While her mom went down to the pool, Cassidy was left to fetch the foldout massage table from beneath the stairs, as well as finding the bottle of massage oil and the holster to wear it on round her naked hips. She put this belt on, then carried the table down to the pool where she set it up on the patio.

“Put the parasol up over the massage table so we’re in the shade, after you’re finished with the massage, you can put sun lotion on me then I’ll sunbathe on the lounger.” Sarah said, then as the teen pulled the parasol over, stripped from her bikini. Cassidy couldn’t help but blush when she saw her mom naked for the first time, with her pinkish-brown nipples exposed as well as her pussy, topped by the neat bush of pubic hair that the teen had heard about from her mommy, when Zafira had explained the bush was a symbol of Sarah’s status as the breadwinner, whereas the Hungarian woman got a landing strip as the housewife while Cassidy, as the daughter, was now required to remain clean shaven.

Sarah climbed onto the table, lying on her front so Cassidy got a view of her firm butt, fully exposed now it was stripped of its bikini bottoms.

“Start with my upper back and work your way down darling.” Sarah told the girl. Cassidy squeezed massage oil onto her palms, rubbing them together so they both were slick with the wared oil, before beginning to rub her hands over the blonde’s back, remembering how she had previously massaged her mommy. Her hands, helped by their oiled slickness, glided over the woman’s skin, rubbing her shoulders then moving down to her lower back. She moved her hands back and forth over her mom’s body, admiring her skin now glistening with massage oil, and feeling the lean muscles of her upper back.

“Oh, that feels good darling. Now go a little lower…” Sarah groaned in satisfaction from her daughter’s hands firmly caressing her. Cassidy drizzled some more oil over the woman’s lower back and focused her attention on it. “I mean a little lower than that…”

“Sorry mom…” Cassidy blushed, and moved her hands further down, caressing over the blonde’s firm buttocks. She remembered how she had massaged her mommy’s butt previously, and using the same techniques, begin by placing her oiled thumbs in the crease between the woman’s butt and upper legs, and moving side to side, pressed down her thumbs and massaging in little circles.

Cassidy then got to work on the butt itself, cupping the ass cheeks with her oiled hands and rubbing in circular motions, before beginning to knead and rub more firmly. The teen then formed her hands into soft fists, pushing them against the centre of her mom’s firm athletic buttocks, and slowly twisting her fists back and forth which made the blonde groan a little. “Mmm, mommy has definitely taught you a few tricks…”

“Yes mom, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Cassidy smiled, pleased she seemed to be impressing the stern woman. “I’m sure I can get even better with practice from giving mommy a weekly massage, as well as you of course if you like?”

“Yes, maybe we’ll add this to your routine…” Sarah said, sighing as she felt the teen’s hands slide over her butt. Cassidy had repositioned herself beside the table, so now she was facing down the woman’s body, rather than up it, so she could grasp her mom’s butt from the top then firmly pushed her hands over it, her palms sliding down the buttocks to the backs of the woman’s upper legs. The girl repeated the action, ensuring her movements remained slow and firm, remembering doing the same technique on her mommy’s butt with the Hungarian woman instructing her.

“…I never cared for massages enough to pay for a professional masseuse to come round, like your mommy did, but with you hanging around the house, able to do them for free, I think I’ll certainly be wanting them going forward!”

Cassidy realised that she had probably earnt herself another chore, but she didn’t mind as massaging her tunceli escort adoptive parents was fun, even if it didn’t help her ignore her strange arousal she got from touching their nude bodies. She did wonder why both her mom and mommy had her pay so much attention to massaging their butts, as she would of guessed that the upper back got more tense and would of felt more soothing to be rubbed, but she shrugged, happy to do whatever made the women feel good.

She remembered another technique to massage butts that her mommy had taught her, but blushed, wondering if it was perhaps too intimate to try on her mom as it involved moving her fingers into the woman’s butt crack… but eventually, wanting to further impress the blonde, decided to give it a go reasoning it must be something a professional masseuse would do if her mommy had asked her to do it too.

The girl moved her thumbs into the woman’s intergluteal cleft, moving them up and down as she periodically pushed them into the flesh and massaged in circular motions.

“I suppose mommy showed you this too?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, do you like it?”

“Mmm, keep going… I want to find out everything mommy taught you.”

Cassidy continued, unable to stop herself blushing a little as her thumbs rubbed over the woman’s perineum, and though she didn’t actually touch the blonde’s anus, knew she was coming into extremely close proximity with it. The teen next brought her palms together, like she was praying, and slide them between the woman’s firm buttocks, with the oil helping them glide up and down, gradually pushing down a little more firmly and adding a gently wavelike motion. With her hands pressed into the woman’s cleft, Cassidy now could feel her little fingers brushing over the woman’s anus.

“Very thorough.” Sarah groaned. “Do you think a professional masseuse would normally do that?”

“I guess…” Cassidy said, really not having a clue as growing up in orphanages, she hadn’t had too many luxury experiences in her life. “…I imagined mommy just taught me the things her masseuse normally did.”

“Yeah sure.” Sarah rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anymore on the topic. “Move down to my legs now.”

Cassidy ensured she did just as thorough job on her mom’s legs, slender and strong, as she had on the woman’s firm buttocks, squeezing out more massage oil so, like her back, they glistened from the thighs down to the calves.

“Now my feet, I think we can incorporate my daily foot rub into the massage.”

“Sure mom!” Cassidy smiled, having strangely enjoyed the times she rubbed her mom’s feet… well at least the first time, as the second time she had the mysterious threat of the upcoming discipline hanging over her, for breaking the vase.

“I think we can make this one extra special though with something even softer…”

“Yeah.” Cassidy nodded, thinking she understood what her mom was hinting at. “My hands will feel even nicer when slick with massage oil!” The teen squirted some more oil onto her fingers, then moved to the bottom of the table, beginning to softly rub her fingers over the soles of her mom’s feet.

“Sure… but actually I was thinking something else. I would like you to use your mouth and tongue…”

“What? But…” Cassidy said, after she had processed the request, her eyes widening at the weird suggestion. She had been asked to do many strange things since becoming the adopted daughter of the lesbian couple, but using her mouth and tongue in a massage, a foot massage at that, was one of the most startling.

“Dr Virshilas just advised you not to eat hard food for a few days after your braces, she didn’t mention anything about not sucking toes?”

“Of course not…” Cassidy blushed. “It wasn’t to do with my new braces, I just thought…”

“You don’t need to think darling. What was rule number one you were given when you joined the family?”

“It was to always obey mommy and you… good girls never disobey their parents.” Cassidy said, having memorised all the five rules she had been given, after all Sarah had written them down for her to keep. The teen realised she needed to obey the woman’s strange request, after all she felt like she had enough spankings lately, and she did want to always do her best to please the woman.

She thought she would be repulsed by the idea of kissing and licking feet, though surprisingly found the prospect not unappealing, after all had even found touching them with her hands shamefully arousing, and was also learning she liked being treated authoritatively by her stern mom.

“Of course I’ll obey mom, sorry, I was just a little surprised as I never heard of a masseuse doing something like that.”

Sarah laughed. “Sure, but you’re my obedient little girl, not a masseuse, or is it just mommy you like pleasing? Do I need to call you bébi for you to do things for me?”

“No of course not, I’m your obedient little girl like you said.” Cassidy blushed, trying to flatter the woman as things uşak escort sounded dangerously like they were approaching the accusations of her trying to seduce mommy again, which always went badly for her when Sarah brought it up. After all she had already lost her pubic bush and had her swimsuit swapped for the pink princess one as reminders of her place in the family, so the eighteen year old didn’t want to earn herself any other embarrassing penalties.

Sarah kicked back her left foot so it was raised for the brunette. “That massage oil is edible, so don’t worry about getting it in your mouth, but first rub my foot a little with your fingers…”

Cassidy squeezed some more massage oil onto her fingers then tenderly massaged the woman’s sole and arch, running her digits up and down the blonde’s foot which she knew she’d soon be using her mouth on… and still wasn’t sure if she was weirdly excited or grossed out.

“Good girl, now lick my toes.” Sarah said, wiggling her toes until Cassidy, a little hesitantly, stooped down and tentatively sticking her tongue out, licked her mom’s big toe. The girl continued to rub the woman’s foot with her oiled fingers, as she moved her mouth across Sarah’s toes, giving the tip of each one a little lick in turn, but making sure her licks were slow enough that the woman couldn’t complain she wasn’t doing it properly.

“Mmm, that feels nice, now lick between my toes.”

“Yes mom.” Cassidy mumbled, unable to help screwing up her face a little, but nevertheless poked her tongue between the woman’s big toe and index toe, wiggling it around. She could taste a slightly funky flavour which she didn’t find entirely unpleasant, and realised this was her first taste of feet, something she had never thought she’d experience the flavour of. As she licked, she wrinkled her nose a little as she caught some whiffs of foot odour, though this was less than she had smelt previously when she had foot rubbed her mom after a day of work in pantyhose and high heels, and was further obscured by the sweet smell of the massage oil slicked over her glistening foot. Though at least previously she didn’t have the taste to go with the smell…

However the teen realised she wasn’t actually finding it too gross, in fact perhaps the opposite as she was feeling the same sensation in her pussy as she felt from touching the woman’s firm butt. This taboo attraction to her adoptive mom’s body coupled with the weird thrill Cassidy had learnt she usually experienced from the dominance of her authoritative mom, as well as the pleasure of pleasing her parent. ‘These feelings are all weird and shameful, but then what’s the harm in enjoying myself… after all mom wants me to do this so why shouldn’t I enjoy being a good daughter and do what she asks of me?’

“Good girl, now I want you to suck on my toes.”

Cassidy did as she was told, sucking on the woman’s big toe first before moving onto each individual toe in turn. The blonde groaned in satisfaction, and Cassidy looked down at the nude woman as she stood sucking the toes, unable to help admiring her mom’s firm butt again.

Next she was told to lick the woman’s sole, where she could taste the flavour of foot mixed with the sweetness from the massage oil as she slobbered her tongue over the underside of her mom’s foot. She kissed the ball of the woman’s foot, then licked all the way down the sole until she was sucking on her tougher heel, before returning back to the top of the foot to swipe her tongue along the underside of her toes. Even though it was weird, the teen was definitely finding it strangely fun, and even imagined doing the same for her mommy…

“What’s your favourite part of my foot darling?”

“Umm, all of it!” Cassidy shrugged with a smile. She was being truthful, unsure what part she liked the best. “Maybe your big toe… it’s kinda like sucking on a lollipop…”

“My big toe is like a lollipop huh? Well, give it an extra little suck before you move on to my other foot…” Sarah glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, smirking before resting her head back on the massage table. Cassidy obediently moved her mouth back to the top of the blonde’s foot, and wrapped her lips round the toe, sliding them up and down with her tongue positioned so the bottom of the toe rubbed against it.

‘Do many teen girls know what their mom’s feet taste like?’ Cassidy wondered as she circled round the table, so she could give the same treatment to the woman’s right foot, already raised and waiting for her oiled fingers, lips, and tongue.

After she was satisfied with the attention her adopted daughter had given her right foot, Sarah turned over on the massage table. Cassidy felt shamefully excited at the sight of her mom’s bare bosom and exposed vulva again, trying not to gaze down at the woman’s perfectly shaped breasts, attractive nipples, bush of pubic hair, or pussy, especially now the woman, facing up, could see where she was looking.

“Massage my breasts next.”

“Yes mom.” Cassidy said, flushing a little in anticipation that she was going to be touching her mom’s bare breasts, though telling herself not to make things weird with her taboo fantasies, after all this was just a normal massage she was giving her mother, not anything to become aroused over…

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

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

The next morning dawned exceptionally clear and bright. Annabel woke up still vibrating from the many, many orgasms of the day before; for awhile she sat up in bed and watched the sun glitter on the ocean outside the window, drinking in the beauty of it. But she had too much energy to sit still for long, so after a few minutes she went downstairs, put some coffee on, and did a few easy yoga poses.

When Carla awoke and wandered down the stairs in her bathrobe, she was greeted by the lovely spectacle of her stepmother bending and stretching clad only in a pair of cutoff shorts. Annabel’s boobs bounced delightfully and her face radiated contentment — until she caught sight of Carla watching her and began to blush.

“Don’t stop on my account,” said Carla, stepping into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. Annabel did a couple more poses because Carla had told her to; but she felt self-conscious and soon stopped.

After they had breakfast Annabel excused herself to get ready for her 10:00 yoga class. Carla was tempted to tell her that yoga class was cancelled today, that she was going to stay home and lick Carla’s pussy for an hour instead. But after thinking about it for a minute, she changed her mind and decided that it was long past time for her to learn more about this whole yoga thing.

Annabel was amazed when Carla said that she’d never been to a yoga class before. Carla shrugged. “I’m not into all that crunchy granola stuff,” she explained. And this was still true, but spending time with Annabel and Dylan — combined with what she’d seen in San Francisco — had piqued her interest.

Carla didn’t own yoga pants so she borrowed a pair from Annabel. They were a little tight but she looked fantastic in them; she inspected her ass in the mirror over her shoulder and nodded approvingly. She matched the black pants with a black halter, while Annabel wore electric blue pants and a white tank top.

At the studio, Annabel had to show Carla how to set up, a rare instance of her telling her stepdaughter what to do. Looking around, Carla couldn’t believe what she’d been missing out on. The room was full of beautiful women in revealing clothes, all of them fit and healthy, glowing with life; even the older ones looked hot. There were also a couple of men there, but they seemed to blend into the background.

Dylan was up toward the front, facing away from them, in paisley-patterned yoga pants and a spaghetti-strap top that showed off her exquisitely toned shoulders. Carla had never realized that shoulder blades could be so sexy. Dylan’s red hair was up, revealing a graceful, elegant neck. In her mind’s eye Carla sank her teeth into that neck, wrapping her arms around Dylan from behind, cupping the redhead’s tits….

Carla felt her temperature rising as her imagination started to get revved up, but then her reverie was broken by a voice behind her saying “Hello, everyone.” She turned toward the voice and saw that it belonged to a tall, thin, absolutely drop-dead-gorgeous Indian woman. “Sorry I’m a little late,” she said. “My name is Asha and I’ll be substituting for Sarah today.”

As Asha made her van escort way to the front of the class Carla looked over at Annabel, who shrugged. This was a new teacher to her, as well. Both of them were immediately smitten; their heads swiveled to track Asha as she walked. Her skin was a creamy cinnamon brown and she moved with a lightness and poise that made her seem almost ethereal.

The class started with a series of sun salutations. When everyone bent over, Carla couldn’t make up her mind whether to look at the many asses suddenly presented to her or keep watching the beautiful teacher. She was so distracted that at one point she lost her balance and almost fell over; this drew the attention of Asha, who gave her an encouraging smile and paused for a moment before proceeding with the next pose.

When it came time for the first downward dog, Carla was transfixed by what she saw: row after row of sweet, shapely rumps being thrust into the air. It was so beautiful that it almost brought a tear to her eye. It certainly brought wetness to her crotch, and her nipples — which had been hard since the moment she walked into the studio — stiffened even further. She was starting to feel a little lightheaded and wondered how she was going to make it through a whole hour of this.

A few minutes later they were doing a pose with their legs stretched out behind them and their hands clasped behind their backs. Carla found herself staring straight between the legs of the woman in front of her, thinking about nuzzling her nose into that soft furrow. She was so focused that it took her completely by surprise when she felt a warm hand on her lower back.

She turned her head to see Asha kneeling beside her, smiling beatifically. Carla felt warmth radiate out from the point where the yoga teacher was touching her and permeate her entire body. With her other hand Asha took hold of Carla’s clasped hands and gently lifted them to accentuate the stretch. Carla felt a a gentle, tingling euphoria and was disappointed when Asha let go of her and moved on to another student.

Toward the end of the class they did a pose involving yoga straps, and Carla was again intrigued by this piece of equipment, which seemed so much like bondage gear. A series of quick fantasies flashed through her mind and she felt herself growing increasingly moist and steamy between the legs.

Before they went into Shivasana, Asha talked about the importance of being in the moment, and asked everyone to try to clear their minds. Carla tried to banish all sexual thoughts from her head, and for a brief period she actually succeeded; then an image flashed into her head of Asha standing over her naked, gazing down at her with shining golden-brown eyes.

This picture was still lingering in her head when the class ended. Carla felt very strange, like she was stoned; everything around her was moving slowly, and the murmur of voices in the room seemed like it was coming from somewhere far away. But after a minute her head started to clear and she made a beeline for the front of the room.

After introducing herself to Asha, she asked questions yalova escort about some of the poses, but only half-listened to the answers. Mostly it was a pretext to stand close to the yoga teacher and establish a line of communication. This was a long-term project at best, Carla realized; but you never knew what might be possible.

* * *

As they walked out of the yoga studio Dylan invited Annabel and Carla to her house for a cup of tea, and they readily accepted. Both of them were in a highly excited state as they followed Dylan home; Carla, who was driving, frequently reached over and fondled Annabel’s breasts or crotch with her free hand.

Inside, Dylan went into the kitchen to make the tea. Both Carla and Annabel needed to pee; Carla went first, and after leaving the bathroom she wandered around the house for a minute, indulging her curiosity, then found her way to the kitchen.

Dylan was bent over the kitchen table studying some piece of mail that was sitting there. Her ass looked deliciously plump and juicy in the tight paisley yoga pants, and quietly creeping up behind her, Carla slid one hand between Dylan’s legs and cupped her crotch.

Letting out a soft sigh, Dylan sank down onto the table and opened her legs. Carla rubbed her through the fabric for a minute, then took hold of the waistband and pulled the pants down around her knees.

Dylan squirmed and moaned as Carla’s hand slipped between her naked thighs. Annabel had by now appeared in the doorway and stood watching as Carla penetrated Dylan with her index finger. Dylan let out an involuntary “Mmmmf” sound and wriggled around a little more, moving her hips to impale herself further.

For a moment Annabel was annoyed that Carla had taken control of this situation so completely. For a long time Dylan had been her little secret. But then what could you expect? It was just Carla’s nature to take charge.

Now Carla pulled Dylan’s pants all the way off, letting them drop to the floor and spreading her legs wide. Dylan’s pussy was a beautiful sight: glistening wet and pink, fringed with red hair, gaping slightly open and begging for attention. Unable to wait another second, Carla dropped to her knees and ran her tongue all the way up the length of Dylan’s slit.

“Fuck,” said Dylan, and repeated the word several more times as Carla aggressively tongue-fucked her. Just then, though, Carla realized than Annabel was in the room. Scooting over to one side, she gestured for Annabel to join her.

Annabel knelt down and Carla kissed her hard on the mouth, sharing the taste of Dylan’s nectar with her. Much to Carla’s delight, Annabel responded by sucking her tongue like a good little lesbo slut.

Breaking the kiss, Carla gripped the back of Annabel’s head and pointed it toward Dylan’s crotch. Then she stood and walked around to the other side of the table. Bending over to kiss Dylan upside-down, Carla chewed on her pillowy lips and reached both hands out to squeeze her tits.

Straightening up again, Carla stood for a bit watching Annabel lap at Dylan’s pussy. Her skills had definitely improved; Dylan was çorlu escort writhing on the tabletop, face contorted in pleasure. Carla pulled off her own top, then Dylan’s, and bent down again to suck Dylan’s nipples while smothering Dylan in her cleavage.

This was a very pleasant state of affairs but the itch between Carla’s legs was growing unbearable. She stood up once more, popping her left breast out of Dylan’s mouth, and reached down to push her pants down around her calves. Hastily shimmying the rest of the way out of them, she lifted herself up onto the table and straddled Dylan’s head.

After that the only sounds in the room were slurping noises and soft moans that gradually built to a crescendo. Dylan came first, then Carla, then Dylan again, and so on until they’d both finally had enough.

Stretching contentedly, Carla climbed down from the table and walked over to the fridge. Inside there was a six-pack of cold beer and though it was still kind of early in the day, she went ahead and took one.

Annabel sat back from between Dylan’s legs and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a little dazed. She looked wonderfully depraved, Carla thought, with Dylan’s juices glistening on her lips.

Dylan, recovering from several powerful orgasms, sat up on one elbow and looked around the room blinking. Carla’s magnificent naked body was silhouetted against the window facing the back yard; above her head sunlight shone through the brown glass of the beer bottle as she tipped it up. She took a long swig and let out a satisfied “Ahhh.”

“Could you grab me one of those?” asked Dylan. Carla nodded and turned toward the fridge. Dylan then turned her head to look down at Annabel, who was still kneeling there in her yoga clothes, as if awaiting further instructions. Accepting the beer from Carla, Dylan stood up from the table and took the blonde by the hand. After helping her to her feet, Dylan led Annabel to the living room.

There Dylan sat Annabel down on a comfortable chair and kissed her. Annabel kissed back hard with a mouth redolent of Dylan’s own taste.

Carla wandered into the living room after them and sat down to watch as Dylan stripped off Annabel’s top and bra. She squeezed Annabel’s plump breasts with both hands, then leaned down to lick and suck them. Annabel moaned and leaned back in the chair; she was ever so ready to get a little attention.

After giving Annabel’s boobs a thorough going-over, Dylan reached down to pull off her yoga pants. When they were down around her knees Dylan was suddenly hit by the powerful scent of Annabel’s arousal. It was so strong that it made her swoon momentarily, holding on to Annabel’s leg for support.

Carla looked on with amusement, sipping her beer, as Dylan recovered herself and slid Annabel’s pants the rest of the way off. Annabel opened her legs to reveal a shiny wet cunt and the look on her face, Carla thought, was priceless — so abject, so needy. She was ready to beg if she needed to, but she didn’t — Dylan wasted no time bending forward and getting to work.

With her head down between Annabel’s legs, Dylan’s ass was directly facing Carla. Just for the heck of it, Carla walked over, sank down onto one knee, and laid a solid open-handed smack on each of Dylan’s butt cheeks. Looking back over her shoulder, Dylan grimaced, then smiled; then she took a swig of beer and went back to eating Annabel’s pussy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*knock knock knock*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*knock knock knock*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riley, albeit, rejectingly obeyed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thatta girl,” Coach commended her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riley simply nodded, looking down at the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Becca?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll get them.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

“The black blouse.” Rosie knew it.

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

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

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

‘I haven’t separated the two.”


“Then you should.”

~

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a bit harsh on yourselves.”


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that you?”

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

She said, “Bloody decisions.”

“Explain.”

“Do I fuck you now, or after dinner.”

“There’s another option.”

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

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

“She’s accused of murdering her husband.”


“Is that an offence?”

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

“Happily not.“’

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

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

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

“It hurts a little.”


“Oh, you wait till it comes off.”

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

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

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

How do you feel?”

“Vulnerable.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

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


“But, you like it, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled. “Good though, huh?”

“Fucking amazing. Is that D/s?”

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Hummingbird

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boot. Golden Boot, Jacqui.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She gets to wear her hair down?”

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

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

“What does that mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why aren’t you running after her?”

“Why should I?”

“You like her.”

“What do you mean I like her?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve never liked girls.”

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

“I’ve known Jacqui for years.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I wouldn’t!”

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

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

“Of course you would.”

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

“Pity too.”

“Why?”

“We liked seeing her with her hair down.”

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

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

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

Once more, I was mesmerized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again,” I said, and,

“Again.”

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

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

“Hit me instead,” she said.

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

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

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

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

“Or my shoulder, whatever,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I looked at her sharply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She finally pulled away, grinning happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You told him WHAT??”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh,” Alice concluded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Casper nodded.

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

“Does she know you’re…” he tried.

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

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

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

“How…how was it?” Casper asked.

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

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

“What do you mean?” Casper asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ısparta escort mean, tit-fucking.”

“Yeah.”

The two laughed again.

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

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

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

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

“Oh heck yeah,” Casper replied.

“Have you, you know, done that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And then?”

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

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

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

“How would you want to cum?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Divorced mom of 2 (part 8)

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

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

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

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

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

“I try,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“OK, a kiss then,” I said smirking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you think I’m beautiful”.

“Yes…Yes, I do,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So do I get a say in this”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I now?”

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

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

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

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

“Good”.

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

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

“I guess so,” I said smiling.

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

“You are so beautiful.”

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

“Oh god, that feels great”

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

“Please, don’t stop,” I whimpered.

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

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

“How do you feel now?” she asked me.

“Great, just great,” I answered.

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

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

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

“Taste yourself?” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure”, I replied sarcastically.

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

“Bedded a sexy mom,” I said.

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

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

“I’d like that very much,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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