It had been a year since my sub/girlfriend Amy had died in a car accident while visiting her family. Amy was 25, and had been my secretary and very personal assistant. She was young, vivacious and wanted to explore new things with me. I was her boss, her Domme, and her lover.

For a few months I had been celibate and angry at fate. Then while on a business trip, I met, in a upper class lesbian bar, Cindy. She was a woman, thirty years old, with whom I had great vanilla sex and that I had spanked.

A few nights later I decided, on a whim, to look at a lesbian relationship site just to see what was happening. There I had a Domme nickname before I met Amy. Members could still think I was in New England as I had not changed my profile but I had, after losing Amy, moved to a better job in the Sun Belt. I looked around by state and found, to my surprise, that there were many lesbian subs in this region. Looking at an alluringly named profile, I recognized by the stats and body pic someone I knew from the GLTB community. I never viewed Allison as a sub there but I liked the way she behaved. I wrote her a terse message to figure out if she was a possible replacement. Allison, who was a nurse, was close to my 45 years and was a plump Sherry Stringfield look-alike with long dirty-blonde hair while I was athletic, with Catherine Keener looks, some said.

Allison answered, as I hoped she would, in a beautiful, well-written email about power exchange and not wanting to move from her town and responding to most of my queries. I answered back I had job offers in her region so I could move maybe if had another good reason to. For a few days, we emailed each other about this and that and she reacted like the educated sub I thought she would be. On Thursday night, I sent her an email saying, “I like movies and I will be in town for business this weekend and we could meet on Friday night to see where it could lead us.”

She chose the theatre and I picked the movie, adding, “We would go Dutch on our first date and would then exchange more than phone numbers if it went well.”

She described herself and where she would wait with the two tickets. I wrote back, “I’ll be in a light blue business suit with thin white stripes, and a light lavender shirt with flat pumps.”

I arrived at the theatre seeing her a little nervous wearing a denim skirt and a delicately flowered blouse. She saw me and I waved as I approached her.

“Hello Allison, how have you been lately?”

“Fine, a little tired, too much work,”

“You are waiting for someone, I see,”

“Yes, a friend,”

“I know. I’m the one, “grinning and putting my hand on her right hip, “I’m Ann, it’s my other first name,”

“Oh!… Do you still want to see the movie?”

“Yes and I think you’ll like it,”

“Ok! amasya escort You’re the boss,” she answers smiling.

” We’ll go eat afterwards.”

We go into the multiplex and, letting her walk in front, I ogle her nice round butt. I choose where we sit and chat while waiting for the movies to start, our hands touching each other on the armrest. I grasp her wrist at one point and she smiles.

I whisper in her ear, “I didn’t think you were a sub when I saw you in our community meetings.”

She replies the same way, “I thought you could be a Domme and I hoped I could be your girlfriend.”

The movie was a little better than I hoped, Allison liked it a lot maybe because my hand stayed on hers the whole time. Going out, we see some acquaintances and talk a little with them. They propose that we go eat together in a new restaurant they had heard about.

Allison replies, “No, we are going to my home for a dinner I have prepared.” The couple smiles, feeling we were having a girlfriend’s night out.

Arriving at her place a few minutes after her, as we had each our own car, I see her through the window waiting. She opens the door, having taken off her bra under her shirt, and, after I close it, kneels to kiss my hands.

I smile and say, “Stand and turn around.”

Slapping hard her butt a couple of times, I add, “Allison, get me a glass of white wine, I allow you a non-alcoholic drink,”

“Yes Ma’am Brenda.” she answers, as I go to the living room.

Bringing a tray with my glass of wine and her glass of 7Up, she bends forward to present it to me. I see her nipples are half erect and I take the glass, sipping it to taste its coldness and quality.

My Allison puts the tray on the coffee table and sits cross-legged on the carpet in front of me.

After a few minutes of chatting, I ask her what’s for dinner. She answers by listing a Tex-Mex menu she had prepared last night for herself and possible visitors.

I reply, “Fine, but first,let’s look at your toy-chest so we can figure out what fun we might have for a long time.”

She walks in front of me to the bedroom while I tickle her butt.

In her closet, she takes out an old Samsonite bag filled with different clamps, cuffs, floggers and other paddles and dildos.

“Great Allison. With my things, I’m sure we have enough to explore and I expect you to give me a list of your favorite kinks and fantasies,”

“Sure! Mistress Brenda, you can ask anything,”

“Hands on bed” I add, lifting her skirt, pulling down her panties, seeing her slightly open asshole, and taking the big hairbrush on her dressing table, I say, “COUNT!” …

SLAAAAAAP!

“One,”

SLAAAAAP!

“Two,”

SLAAAAAAAAAP!

“Threee,”

SLAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Four,”

SLAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Fiive!”

Allison escort amasya is getting wet and is having difficulty saying the numbers

SLAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Sixxx,”

SLAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Seven,”

SLAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Eightt!”

SMACK! SMACK! With my hand, to leave my imprint on her butt

Using the brush-side on all her reddish pink rump, I tickle the back of her neck before putting back the hairbrush on the nightstand.

” My Allison, you know that you’ll get spanked every night,”

“Yes Mistress,” she answers with smiling tears in her voice.

“Let’s go eat.”

We sit at the kitchen table, eating, sharing a bottle of beer.

“When did you put that profile on the site?”

Allison replies, “Three weeks ago. When I lived in the Pacific Northwest, I had a Mistress that I was very fond of but I found out she had subs on the side, especially a married woman, so after a while I felt frustrated that she didn’t even want me as her alpha-sub. When the offer to move here came, I took it. In this town, I had a couple of short affairs but something wasn’t going well because of our ego trips. I knew I was not following my leaning so after the last breakup, I decided on becoming a sub again and I’m glad I did even though I’m sure this whirlwind courtship is contrary to internet protocol about first meetings.”

“Well, as I wrote to you, you will be my only girlfriend and sub and I value your ideas but I’ll decide what’s best for us as a couple,”

“Yes Mistress,” she answers, smiling, “How should I address you here?”

“Brenda is fine except when we are in a more D/s scene. Then it is Mistress or Ma’am. I’ll use Ally as your sub name,”

“Ma’am, would you like Ally to give you a foot massage before bed?”

“Yes, and get your nip clamps first. But before, come and stand in font of me.”

She comes even closer. I unbutton her shirt and smack the undersides of her breasts, lifting them and kissing her nipples.

“GO!”

She comes back wearing only her panties and, head lowered, hands me her butterfly clamps. I trail one on her left breast, seeing her anticipating my action with every pore of her body. I clamp her fat right nipple, she breathes in not uttering a word. I push on her clit with my thumb as I clamp her fat left nipple and tie the two with a chain. She falls on her knees as I sit on the big chair that is now mine to use alone. My Ally takes off my black pumps and begins to caress and kiss my feet, taking her time showing she knows she has found her place. I look down at her smiling.

After a few minutes, I say, “My Ally, let’s go to the bedroom, you’ll have plenty of amasya escort bayan time for pampering me in the months and years to come,”

“Yes Mistress.”

I pull on the clamps chain with my right little finger as we walk to the bedroom.

“Kneel and take off my skirt and pull down my panties and stockings.”

Allison smiles and does as told. Taking off my shirt and bra, I tell her, “Hand me the strap-on!”

“Yes Mistress,” she takes off her panties after handing me the strap-on. I allow her a kiss below my bellybutton as she buckles the belt.

I take her hand and lay her on the bed as I tease her upper thighs with the cock before pushing it in looking down at her flustering face, kissing her nose and going in and out of her incandescent pussy.

Allison puts her hands on my hips feeling complete with me above her. I pull out lightly and push back in and out for a few minutes then pull out.

“Grab your thighs!” as I lift her legs before pushing the strap-on in her slightly open asshole.

She complies, smiling and I pound her asshole. She breathes heavily and begs, “Mistress!! Can I come please?!”

“Yes!My slut Ally”

I unclench the clamps and pinch her clit hard, she groans and says “Oh GAWD! Fuuck!” as I cum.

I fall beside her on the bed caressing her whole body, I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips as she giggles and coos in my arms, resting her head on my shoulder above my breast as I pull out gently.

“This is the start of a beautiful friendship,”

“I love you Mistress,” she replies, seeing me taking off the strap-on and returning to the bed beside her.

“Good-night, my Allison,” as I kiss her slowly on the lips and caress her body as she does mine, slowly drifting to sleep.

Next morning, after spanking lightly her butt, she begs to drink my morning pee and after she kisses my feet and hands, we go to the bathroom and I stand in the bath as she kneels in front of me, opens her mouth and drinks smiling. We take a shower together, scrubbing each other’s backs. After a good breakfast, before going shopping for knick-knacks, we go to her computer.

I command her, “Delete the pics from the site and send mail saying: ‘Thanks, I found someone’,”

“Yes, my Brenda,”

“I’ll do the same on mine.”

At the mall, I find a high-end jeweller and we enter holding hands. I look at a simple sterling silver necklace that I buy and put around her neck, whispering in her left ear, “It’s for our one week anniversary.”

We go out and she asks, “What should I tell my other friends?”

“When is your birthday?”

“Next Thursday,”

“Well, we both got gifts. Tell them it’s a birthday gift from me,”

“Yes my Brenda”, she answers beaming and seeing a hardware store,

“Brenda, as we are ecologically friendly, I think we need more clothespins for our bigger laundry now that we are a couple”

“Yes, my Ally, you are right, another thing for you to do,” I answer grinning.

This is a work of fiction. If something similar happened to you, I’m very happy *G*.

This story has been resubmitted correcting the errors that were pointed out to me, and some others I also noticed. For those who might be reading this for the first time, I hope you enjoy reading it. For those who are reading it again, I also hope you enjoy it somewhat error free. Lisa Collins

Brenda’s Journey

Sitting back in my swivel chair, I looked around the room. I worked for one of the top most successful law firms the city, Mallard and Mallard. It was my father and his brother, Robert Mallard and Harold Mallard. I, of course am Brenda Mallard, daughter of Robert. I am one of three children. My brothers decided that law was not going to be their chosen field. Robert Jr., the eldest, chose medicine and Michael, my younger brother, became a research biologist.

Uncle Harold had no children. That was his own choosing, well… because Uncle Harold was gay. Uncle Harold does not flaunt being gay, but is not ashamed to admit he is gay. At first I was told that father was ashamed and refused to acknowledge that they were brothers. After some time, he slowly accepted it, and now has Uncle Harold and his partner to his home many times for dinner or cookouts. Sometimes the three of them sit in the den and watch the game on Sunday.

This is neither about my brothers nor my uncle. When I was quite younger, I was living the modern day princess. No harm or wrong would befall me. My father soon abolished all my problems or troubles outside the home. Inside our home, mother ruled, and what mother wanted, mother got. I was her baby girl and was protected as such.

When I was eighteen, Mark Thompson took me out on a date. He had brought along a six-pack of beer. After drinking three of them, he got into my pants. Needless to say, I also got pregnant. My father, being the lawyer he is, got him to sign away all rights and privileges, or being drawn into child support for the next eighteen years. During the summer of my eighteenth year, I had Samantha, or Sam as most call her.

So now here I am, thirty-six and have an eighteen year old daughter. Even at thirty-six, I still have my high school figure. I’m five eight, long auburn hair, my breasts are full C, and gravity has yet to make them sag. I have a twenty-six inch waist, and tapered hips, with what some call a nice bubble butt. I have green eyes with flecks of gold in them.

Samantha on the other hand is five ten, dirty blond hair and the deepest blue eyes you’d ever want to see. She is close to being a D cup, with a medium build. Because of soccer and softball, she has maintained her weight well. Her softball coach told me that she is good enough that she might even be able to get a scholarship playing softball.

Well, enough about my family and me. It was on a Thursday that my world was turned upside down. I was scheduled for a late afternoon court appearance, I was checking my briefcase and noticed the files I needed were not there. I realized that I had left them on my nightstand after going over them while relaxing in bed before going to sleep.

I told Donna, my secretary that I was going to stop at the house and pick up the files I left there and take a long lunch before going to court. After bidding her a good day, I said that I would see her in the morning.

Thinking Samantha would be out with her friends at the park, I didn’t pull into the garage as I might have normally done, thinking I was only going to be a moment. After I came out of my bedroom and just before I turned to go down the hall, I heard a moan coming from the partially opened door of Samantha’s bedroom.

Thinking maybe Samantha was home and maybe ill, I started walking down the hall towards her room. Her door was open maybe six inches, but as I got closer, I heard someone speaking. It was a girl’s voice. I stopped and listened for a minute, when I distinctly heard her say, “Oh god Sammy yes, lick me right there.”

I froze. I started thinking of someone taking advantage of my Samantha. I was ready to kill this person for violating my precious daughter. I was about to barge into the room and confront this pervert when I heard my daughter’s voice.

“Ever since I seduced you a couple months ago, I can’t get enough of you.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I knew my daughter’s voice; I knew it was her, yet I still could not believe what I just heard. My hands were shaking; I nearly dropped the folder I was holding. I quickly slipped out the shoes I was wearing, picked them up and silently made my way out of the house where I could think and get a grip on myself.

I pulled into the parking garage across the street from the courthouse. I thought I would use the restaurant attached to the garage but I had no appetite for food at the moment. I just sat in my car, my mind going over and over the sounds I had heard coming from Samantha’s bedroom. Trying to think back if I had missed any warning signs that this was all happening, there were none. For all intent and purposes, she was my bubbling happy go lucky daughter.

A fellow attorney passing by stopped adana escort and tapped on my window startled me bringing me out of my thoughts. As I rolled down the window, he said he noticed me just sitting here and was wondering if anything was wrong. I assured him I was fine, but had my head wrapped around a case I was working on. I noticed that I had five minutes before my assigned court appearance and thanked him for his consideration before I rushed off to court.

Getting my head back into my work, I ripped the plaintive a new asshole. Thanks to Vic’s fine work, especially with the detailed pictures he provided. My client, Mr Holding, was seeking a divorce on the grounds of adultery. When my client suspected that his wife was cheating on him, he hired our firm to represent him, our firm Mallard and Mallard. With the pictures in hand his wife had no choice but to take what was offered, and a reduced settlement at that. We had hired Vic to get the goods on his soon to be ex-wife.

After the judge granted the divorce, Mr. Holding then asked if he could have a word before I left. We stepped over near the jury box for a little privacy when he asked if he could stop by the office on Monday to see if I would take on his company as a representative in all its legal matters. I was almost too stunned to answer, so I reached inside my purse and retrieved my phone to look at my appointment calendar.

“I am free from eleven on, I have no other appointments the rest of the day,” straightening my shoulders and trying to put some conviction back into my voice.

“Fine, I’ll pick you up at eleven, we’ll have lunch, I’ll explain the basics of my company and then we can go back to your office, meet the rest of your partners and possibly draw up a contract.”

“Fine” I said, “I’ll see you at eleven then.”

When I got back to my car, I yelled a loud “YES!” Pumping my fist up and down a few times before getting into the car. I called Donna to make sure I was free for Monday except my early morning court appearance.

The first thing I wanted to do was to properly thank Vic for the wonderful job he did on collecting the evidence we needed to win this case. Having his number on my phone, I simply sent him a text asking if he was available for dinner Saturday evening at six. I gave him the location and asked if it was not a good time to let me know.

As I pulled into the garage at home, I heard my phone alerting me that I had received a text.

“Due to unexpected circumstances, this weekend will not be a good weekend for me to meet, however if you would like to make it tonight I would be more than glad to meet with you. Vic”

I texted back, “Same location, see you at six.”

I called the restaurant and made reservations for six PM, asking for a private table so we could talk.

When I got home, Samantha was in the kitchen making a pitcher of ice tea. As I sat my purse and brief case down, she came over and gave me a hug. As her arms wrapped around my shoulders, my mind suddenly thought of someone else’s arms around her naked body. Shaking off the thoughts, I gave her a kiss on the cheek, asking how her day went.

“Oh nothing unusual, Mel and I just hung around, went to the park, nothing worth mentioning,” pulling away and reaching for her glass of ice tea.

“How was your day mom, anything exciting happening?”

“Oh yeah, I won my case big time, and maybe landed a corporate account in the process,” smiling at the thought.

“Don’t worry about dinner,” I said. “I’m meeting our investigator for dinner tonight. He had done such a good job, I wanted to personally thank him.”

“Oh, ok. So do you have any idea what time you’re going to be home tonight?” She asked.

“Probably around eight or so, why?”

“Would it be ok if I spent the night with Mel?” Looking at me while biting her lower lip.

“Only on one condition, you and Mel have to be here by noon so we can all go and have lunch together. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, and then added, “I need to go and pack an overnight bag and you need to get ready for your date tonight,” putting the empty glass in the sink and the ice tea back in the fridge.

As I was stepping out of the shower, I heard, “bye mom” and the door slam shut. I finished drying and doing my hair and sat wondering what I was going to wear. I didn’t want to be too plain looking, nor did I want to have that over-sexed look.

I put on a skirt that was four inches above the knees, and a peasant blouse showing off my chest and top of my breasts, I topped it off with a gold necklace pennant and matching earrings. I put on a pair of black three-inch heels.

I arrived at the restaurant a little early, so I took the table reserved for me and ordered a glass of wine. As I was sitting there thinking of how I was going to handle tomorrow with Samantha and Mel, I felt someone walk up to the table and looking down at me.

“I’m sorry, may I help you?”

“Possibly, are you waiting on Vic tonight?”

“Yes adana escort bayan I am, he should be here shortly,”wondering what this woman wanted and how she knew I was waiting on Vic.

“I’m Vic, I’m glad to finally meet you,” extending her hand to me.

I slowly extended my hand and felt a firm grip on mine, which pleased me greatly. I hate mushy weak handshakes.

As I was shaking her hand, I looked closely at her. She was tall, probably a little taller than I was. She had short black curly hair. The little curls just lapping over the ears and across the neck. She had the darkest brown eyes I think I ever saw, broad shoulders and a silk blouse buttoning down the front. Her breasts were small, probably a B cup. She had on a tan pair of slacks, not loose, but tight enough I could see that her thighs were well toned and muscular.

Finally letting go of her hand, I asked if she would like to sit. She sat down across from me, putting her purse in her lap.

“I’m sorry for my perplexed expression, but I was expecting a man. Vic is the only name I knew and…” blushing, “assumed you were a man.”

“If you’re too uncomfortable, I can leave so that I don’t cause you any embarrassment.”

“No, please stay, I am probably at a far greater disadvantage than you, but I would like to thank you for the job you did for me and my firm and now I would like to get to know you better.”

“And what disadvantage would I have over you?” raising her left eyebrow looking at me.

As I looked into those dark orbs, they seemed dull, almost lifeless, and if I really needed another word, lonely.

“You probably did a full search and found out everything there is to know about me before coming here tonight.”

“I could have, but after seeing your picture on the firm’s web page, I decided to wait and see if you’re worth getting to know.”

Just then the waitress came back over to ask if we needed anything else to drink. I told her to remove my unfinished wine and to bring us a bottle of Henschke, Hill of Grace.

Vic just raised both eyebrows and just as she was about to speak, I raised my hand, stopping her.

“If you find that you need to forget this entire evening, I am going to make sure that you at least remember the wine,” causing us both to giggle a little.

The waitress returned with the wine. Once she had pulled the cork, she had me sniff the cork. I nodded my head in approval. She poured a sip into a glass and handed it to me. After taking a sip, feeling it’s smoothness in my mouth, I smiled and nodded again to the waitress. She poured an inch or so into both glasses, then put the wine in a decanter full of ice.

Lifting our glasses, and unable to come up with something cute, I just said, “to us,” and touched our glasses together.

I watched her as she took a sip of her wine. Her face seemed to light up, as the flavors began to bounce around inside of her mouth.

“This is very good, not too sweet, not too tart, but very smooth on the pallet.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, when she looked up at me with questions in her eyes.

“There is something I need to tell you before we go any farther,” she said to me.

“What is that?” I asked.

“I’m gay. You being here with me might give certain people seeing us together the assumption we’re together and that you are also gay. I just don’t want to embarrass you needlessly.” She looked down at the glass in front of her.

“Then I assume that makes you more afraid of me, than I would of you, doesn’t it.”

Again I got that little funny look of hers, as she asked, “and why is that?”

“Because I am straight, which means I can walk away anytime and not look back. If I were to become very fond of you, there would be a very good chance I could get you into my bed, at least once. For you, no matter how fond you are of me, there might never even be a kiss, much less making love to me.”

“True, but I just might find you worth fighting for.”

This time it was me that lifted my eyebrows, as well as my glass, for a silent toast.

We had finally ordered, I had the lamb and she had the chicken. All through dinner, we talked about ourselves. I asked if she was single or had a girlfriend. When she kind of averted the subject, I decided to drop it, feeling it was either painful or embarrassing for her. I told her how I almost screwed up my life by getting pregnant and having Samantha when I just turned eighteen. With the help from the rest of my family we raised Samantha together while I finished high school then law school.

She told me that only her friends called her Vicky, everyone else just called her Vic. When she came out to her family being a lesbian, they kicked her out of the house and an estranged aunt raised her until she turned eighteen.

We had decided to split a double chocolate fudge cake, and while we were waiting, I asked her when she actually knew that she was a lesbian and not just some random thoughts. She told me that when escort adana she was very young, she always was around women and rarely around boys or men. She said that by the time she was thirteen and learned the art of masturbation, she only was able to get off thinking of girls or women. She said that when she was fourteen, an older lady living down the street had seduced her and she never looked back since. She said that she and the lady were lovers until she was kicked out of the house and had to move to her aunt’s home.

When I put my hand on top of hers, trying to express my sorrow for all the pain she endured, I felt a comforting warmness while touching her hand. When I pulled my hand away, I silently tried to find explanations from feelings I had just felt, but finally gave up when there were none.

After laughing and joking, more tales of one another’s lives through our second bottle of wine, a much cheaper one, but just as good.

When we got outside after paying the bill, she asked where I was parked. I told her that I used the valet service and they should be bringing my car around shortly. I asked where she was parked which turned out to be only a few cars from the front door.

She laid her hand on my forearm, again experiencing a feeling of warmth and safety, she asked. “Can I see you tomorrow?” looking at me with hope in her eyes.

Thinking of what I had to do with Samantha, there was no way I could get out of it, no matter how much I wanted to.

“No, I’m sorry I can’t see you…” But before I could finish.

“That’s ok, I do appreciate at least meeting you tonight.”

As she looked down, and started to turn, I quickly said, “but if you had someplace or something interesting to do on Sunday, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

As the words left my lips, I couldn’t believe that I just suggested to Vic that we go on a date together.

Vic almost tripped when she suddenly stopped and turned at the same time. I could see a faint crooked smile on her lips, and for the first time this evening, a hint of brightness in her eyes.

“Of course if you had someone more interesting to be with, I would understand,” I said.

“I’ll pick you up at ten Sunday morning, I won’t be late,” leaning towards me and giving me a kiss on my cheek before turning and leaving.

On the drive home, all I could think about was how I felt each time I touched the cheek Vic had kissed. My thoughts were becoming clouded and why I was reacting so strange to a simple kiss on my cheek.

When I walked into the empty house, my mind suddenly came back to my real world. I knew tomorrow was going to be a long and trying day, for everyone. I just hoped that I would be able to come to an understanding with Samantha. I want to keep the closeness we’ve always had, but I was a little fearful I would lose her if I didn’t do this right.

Once back in my bedroom, undressed and in bed, wearing my long nightshirt and panties, I sat up in the bed, my phone in my hand. My thoughts were once more on Vic. I felt I needed to know one thing before I could get a good night’s sleep, if that was even going to be a possibility.

Turning on my phone, I found her text message and the phone number associated with it. As I pressed call, I said to myself, ‘I hope you’re not making a complete fool of yourself Brenda.’ On the third ring I heard her voice as she answered.

“Hello!”

“Hi, this is Brenda,” I paused trying to get the courage to ask my next question.

“You’re not calling to cancel out on Sunday are you?” She asked.

“No… nothing like that, I called to ask a simple question. Do you…err… would you consider me a friend?”

“Yes, of course I do, why do you ask?”

“Because only your friends call you Vicky, and I would like to call you that if you’ll allow me to.” Feeling embarrassed to ask such a question; I waited while there was only silence on the phone.

“Brenda, am I your friend?” She finally said to me.

“Yes, and because you are my friend, I’ll tell you why I couldn’t see you tomorrow. It’s because…”

“You don’t have to tell me Brenda.”

“But you are my friend, so please let me… I really need to do this for me. You see, I just found out my daughter is possibly a lesbian or maybe at least bisexual. I had accidentally stumbled across them making love to one another, and I want to talk to her about it, but I am afraid that she may rebel and we will not be close as we once were. I know I sound like a hysterical mother, but I’m so mixed up and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel as strong as I should be.” As I tried to desperately hold back my tears.

“Brenda, for nearly four years I lived with the uncertainty of who and what I was. I think I can somewhat understand what you are going through. Just be sure no matter who or what she is, that you love her and stand behind her. She probably has those same fears, and just doesn’t know how to express them for fear of losing you.”

After what seemed like a very long silent pause, she continued.

“Would you like for me to be there when you talk to her?”

“Oh Vicky, I so much want to say yes please, but I feel this should first be between her and myself. I may change my mind and give you a nine one-one call to come help bail me out of the mess I put myself into.”

I slammed my locker shut, my eyes never leaving Lucy. God, how I hated her. She acted like she was this sweet little angel, batting her long eyelashes and twirling her blonde hair around her finger, but I could see right through it. She knew just how to play the pure, innocent, goody two shoes that our coach just adored, and she did it well.

The locker room was empty except for us; everybody else had left almost an hour ago. Even Coach was gone. We sat in those nasty chairs in his office, still sweaty, as he rambled on and on about how both Lucy and I were amazing stunters and wonderful leaders and bla bla bla. On and on and on he went. Until he finally told us. Lucy was senior captain.

She was sitting on the bench now, taking off her shoes, still in uniform. The navy blue and white suited her; her eyes shone brighter and her tan skin looked warm and sun kissed. She truly was the picture perfect high school cheerleader. Blonde haired, blue eyed, 5’6 – so she was tall but still short enough to be cute, perfect c-cup tits, and with a rich daddy who gave her diamonds for her 18th birthday. Meanwhile, I got a hand me down sweater for mine. I never could compare to her looks. My black hair was just barely long enough to put into a decent ponytail, and my pale skin looks bright orange in any kind of spray tan. My boobs were too big for cheer, which the other girls would always remind me of. But I was good. It may sound cocky or arrogant, but I was easily the best girl on the team. Nobody could tumble like me, and I was the only one who could hyperextend my splits. My stunts were clean, precise, and consistent. But no matter how good I was, I would never be picture perfect Lucy.

Anger swelled in my gut. It wasn’t fair. I worked so hard, but she got everything. I could deal with all the boys asking her to prom, and all the girls wanting to be her friend, but this was too much. I deserved to be captain. But no, she got everything she wanted yet again.

I slammed my fist into the locker. “You and I both know that I deserved to be captain.” My voice was cold, loud, and angry.

Lucy jumped, startled by the noise. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise, but she replied calmly, in that saccharine tone of hers, “Coach knows better than both of us what the team needs in a captain. I’m sorry that his vision doesn’t align with yours, Veronica.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s bull and you know it. The only reason I’m not captain is because I’m not the cookie cutter girl next door like you.”

Lucy stood up, crossing her arms across her perfect chest and cocked her head so that her ponytail gave a little bounce. “You’re not captain because I’m better than you. Plain and simple. Now grow up and stop being such a whiny loser”

The anger in my stomach began to boil, “The only thing you’re better at than me is kissing ass. I take you on the mat any day. So stop pretending you have any talent or skill, because we all know that everything you have is because your daddy bought it for you.”

She started walking up to me, “Oh, I’m sorry that my dad actually came back when he said he needed to get milk, but your family issues aren’t an excuse for your bitchy attitude and sloppy stunting. All you ever do is complain! Maybe if you ankara escort shut up for a second, you’d have time to practice and then you wouldn’t suck so much!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. Her face was smug, an eyebrow raised and lips pursed, just waiting for a response that she could shoot down. So I didn’t say anything, I just shoved her instead.

She stumbled back a but, quickly regaining her balance and taking a step to me again. “You wanna try that again, bitch? I fucking dare you”

I never could resist a dare, so I pushed her again, harder this time. She was prepared this time though, and didn’t even take a step back. Instead, she slammed me against the locker, her body mere inches from mine, and her hand wrapped around my neck. “I warned you”

Her breath was warm and gentle against my face, and her blue eyes were piercing. She was breathing heavily, but so was I, and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. My brain raced, scrambling for something to say, “What are you gonna do, beat me up?” My voice was quieter than I meant it to be, a little bit shaky as well. Her eyes darted down to my lips and back up to my eyes, “No I don’t think so” Her voice was soft and breathy, even quieter than mine. She paused for a second, staring at my lips again.

She was fucking gorgeous, even more so up close. Her eyes were ferocious, and had a fire in them I’d never noticed before. Her lips were plump and naturally pink, and trembling a little. I could tell then that Lucy didn’t get whatever she wanted because people just gave it to her, she got whatever she wanted because she wasn’t afraid to take it herself. And right now, I think she wanted me.

She kissed me, her hand still wrapped around my throat. Her lips were soft and tasted like peaches, but she kissed with a passion I hadn’t felt in a long time. I could feel the fire on her lips, the hate on her tongue, as I kissed her back. Our tongues were darting in and out of eachothers mouths, dancing almost. I slid my hands, which were at first just hanging limply at my sides, up around her back, pulling her closer. As we continued to kiss, I dipped them lower, until they were both resting on her ass. I grabbed it and began to massage it in my hands. I’ve always admired her ass; it was round and perfect, bouncing around in that little skirt of hers. She let out a soft moan into my mouth as I groped her.

Her grasp on my throat remained firm, but her other hand began to move along my body. It slid down my torso and up my skirt. She yanked down the little shorts I had on underneath and slipped her hand into my panties.

I gasped at the coolness of her fingers against my hot, wet, slit. She continued to kiss me and even pressed down on my throat a bit as she began to rub me down there. She was slow at first, but when she found my clit she began to rub faster and faster, her fingers going in circles.

“Oh fuck, Lucy” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut. My leg started to bounce uncontrollably. She rubbed me even faster, and squeezed my throat even tighter. I could feel a pressure building up in my pussy, a warmth spreading over my body. It continued to build, like a dam filling up with water, and just when I thought I was escort ankara ready to burst she stopped, pulling her hand out from under my skirt and bringing it up to my lips. She placed her fingers in my mouth and I licked them clean, the tangy taste of my pussy on my lips.

“You like that, huh?” Lucy smiled at me and released my throat. I nodded, and used my new found freedom to slip my uniform top over my head, along with my bra, so that I was standing with my tits out. Lucy did the same, and I immediately attached my mouth to one of her perfect pink nipples.

I began to suck at it, flicking it with my tongue. It very quickly became stiff and erect in my mouth. With my hand, I grabbed her other breast and began to massage it, rolling her nipple between my fingers, pinching it gently. Lucy gasped and began to moan as I continued to lick. She grabbed me by the hips and guided me down, so that she could sit on the bench and I was on my knees in front of her, mouth still attached to her breast.

Slowly, I began to move my mouth lower, leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach. Occasionally, I paused to bite her skin, leaving a small hickey. Finally, I made it the waistband of her skirt. I yanked it off of her, pulling her shorts and panties down along with it. Now she sat completely naked on the bench, her arms behind her and her shining face looking down at me. I took a second to admire her. I had seen her naked before; we did change in the locker room in front of one another plenty of times. But those were only glances, and it was nothing like this. Her body was chiseled from years of training, but her skin was still so soft and delicate under my hands. Her breasts heaved up and down with her breath, her pretty pink nipples standing tall. Her legs were long and lean, but I could see the power of the muscle underneath. And where her thighs met was the most gorgeous pussy I had ever seen. It was clean shaven, a dark pink, and sopping wet.

I spread her legs even wider, pushing them apart at the knees, and leaned in. I grabbed on to her hips for support and began to eat her out. First I kissed on the outside of her lips, teasing her, letting the anticipation build. Finally, I began to lick her slit, pushing her lips apart with my tongue. I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, which drove her wild. Then, I pursed my lips around it and began to suck. She moaned loudly, throwing her head back and digging her hands into my hair. I began to flick at it with my tongue, her juices dripping down my chin. Her thighs slammed shut against my head and she began to buck her lips, moaning my name. “Don’t stop, Veronica, don’t you dare stop.”

I pushed her legs apart again, so that I could pull one of my hands up to her pussy. I continued to lick her clit as I teased her entrance with my fingers. I dipped in one, then two. I began to fuck her with my fingers, curling them inside of her. Once I found her g-spot, I began to go faster and faster. Her pussy was tight and dripping wet, and I could feel the tension building inside of her.

She began to moan louder, and her thighs were shaking. I could tell she was struggling to keep herself from crushing my head between her thighs again. Her hips ankara escort bayan began to buck, “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum! Fuck!” Then, a shudder ran through her body. She was orgasming. Her hips were bucking wildly, and her pussy was contracting around my fingers. I continued to fuck her through her climax, slowing my fingers to the rhythm of her body, riding it out.

As it winded down, I pulled my head up and my fingers out, smiling at Lucy. She was gasping for air, an expression of pure bliss on her face. She opened her eyes and grinned at me, before leaning forward to kiss me again.

I knew she could taste herself on my lips, but she either didn’t care or enjoyed it. Her tongue darted alongside the inside of my lower lip and her hands reached down to my ass, pulling me up so that I was sitting on her lap. I buried my fingers in her hair as we continued to make out.

My pussy was still throbbing, desperate for the orgasm that Lucy denied me of. She wouldn’t be able to get away with that. I pulled back from our kiss, and stood up, one leg on the bench next to her. My pussy was right in front of her face. “My turn” Lucy didn’t bother to reply, jumping right in. I placed my hand on the lockers behind me to steady myself, moaning in pleasure. Her tongue was swirling around my pussy, along my lips, flicking my clit, and occasionally dipping inside me. The variation was driving me nuts; every time I started to enjoy something, to feel the pressure build, she moved her tongue somewhere else.

Finally, when she decided I’d had enough, Lucy pressed her lips to my clit and began to focus all her energy there. She swirled her tongue in circles around it, sucking in the meantime. One of her hands was rubbing my thigh, the other grabbing my ass. I started to feel that pressure build, and this time, Lucy didn’t move. “Fuck, fuck fucckfuckfuckfuck FUCK” I moaned, as she went faster and faster. One of my hands was still supporting me, but the other I used to rub one of my breasts vigorously. Squishing the soft flesh in my hand and twisting my nipple between my fingers. I felt my pussy tighten and explode with pleasure, my hips bucking forward. Lucy pulled back for a second, jolted by my sudden movement, but quickly pressed her lips back into me, licking my juices as they spilled out of me. She rode out my orgasm, and continued to flick at me with her tongue even when it was over. My clit was so sensitive after cumming, that every touch of her tongue sent jolts up my spine and caused my leg to jump up in the air.

After she thought I had enough, she pulled back and looked back up at me. Her hands ran up my body, stroking my skin. She cupped my breasts in her hands, squishing them gently before standing up and gently kissing me. I could taste myself on her lips, evidence of the amazing orgasm she just gave me.

She pulled away quickly, leaving me lingering. I was still in a haze from my climax, so it took me a second to open my eyes. When I did, she was on the other side of the bench, pulling a t-shirt over her head. She turned to meet my gaze. “You’re better at fucking than you are at cheer.” Her tone was cold, but I could see the smile on her face.

I laughed, and bent over to grab my jeans from my bag. “I’m still better than you at both.”

I still hated her, somewhat. She still took what I deserved. But as I watched her adjust her ponytail in the mirror and apply her lipstick, I didn’t care that much. Because she may get everything she wants, but I got to have her. And I knew that I would get to have her again.

Chapter 2 – Duties to perform.

I felt a bit silly, bordering on ridiculous dressed like this… but I was also very aroused, especially when I caught glimpses of my reflection in the large floor length mirror.

The maids’ uniform I was putting on had been designed to show off my body in an erotic sexual way to an observer – it wasn’t meant to be comfortable. It wasn’t one of those cheep uniforms you can buy in any internet costume site, designed for hen nights or fancy dress parties. The crisp black uniform with exquisite white lace trim that I was struggling to piece together, was cut from expensive French silk, fashioned in such a way that the bodice, that only just covered my nipples, pushed my breasts up to offer ample cleavage and leaving my upper chest and shoulders exposed. It was drawn tightly around my waist with laces like those you might find binding a corset. It felt restrictive, but it was a beautiful dress.

Clare and I had to help each other, fitting it properly before tying off the laces at the back. The skirt part, which was short, was heavily starched and layered over more stiff white lace to stand out rather than fall down to cover out stocking-tops. It felt awkward and uncomfortable to wear and I stifled a giggle as the unbidden image of me flicking a feather duster about dressed like Fifi the French maid flashed across my mind … and then I sobered, realising that was probably what Madam Reynard was expecting of us.

‘What are we doing here, Clare?’ I tried to still the fleeting tremble of panic that fluttered through me.

Clare flashed me a smile but chose to say nothing as she clipped the suspender tops to her sheer black stockings.

‘Oh, God, Clare … are we lesbians now?’

‘Maybe,’ murmured Clare.

I took a moment to gaze at my reflection as Clare, finally finished with her stockings and stood silently beside me.

‘This thing doesn’t feel right,’ she murmured and reached up to adjust her little white lace hair-band making sure the black silk bow was sitting flat. I noticed that as she peered at her reflection, a pretty frown creasing her brow – she looked so incredible – I was happy being a lesbian as long as I was with her.

‘We do look amazing.’ I giggled gazing at the two saucy French maids in the mirror. I gave a little curtsey and Clare copied me. We hugged each other giggling and, for the moment at least, I forgot my trepidation at this huge change in my lifestyle.

We returned to regard the reflection of the two maids, their legs impossibly long and sexy as they perched high on black stilettos, their black stockings held with slender suspender straps and the tantalising area of skin exposed between stocking-top and skirt.

‘My boobs aren’t big enough to carry this off. I wish I had breasts like yours.’

‘I love your breasts, Clare. I think you look incredible. I just can’t believe we’re dressed like this; it’s embarrassing.’

‘It’s not really something we’d wear back home, is it.’ Clare giggled. ‘But we do look good.’

The uniforms gave us a deliciously lewd, naughty look and I knew that, despite my puritanical misgivings, I was becoming very aroused. Reaching down, I tightened the straps of the suspender belt. The short petticoats of the dress rustled as I pushed them aside. The suspender straps were also in black silk, each with a little black bow above clip – I loved the incredible quality of the uniform and especially these small design touches.

I bent forward to smooth my stocking and felt Clare’s hand reach under my skirt and caress my bottom – a shiver ran through me.

‘Clare!’ I pretended to be cross but couldn’t help smiling as I allowed her to continue, feeling her hand flutter across my naked bottom before her fingers dipped between my thighs to caress my pussy through the thin veil of my black silk knickers. I sighed and closed my eyes wanting her to push the soft material to the side and slide a finger into my aching wet cunt, but she withdrew her hand back.

‘I’m sorry Josie it’s just …’ I stood and reached out a finger, silencing her with a touch to the lips, and she came forward to kiss me – her beautiful face coming slowly towards me. Deep red lipstick, dark mascara and liner, sultry grey/blue eye shadow to enhance her blue eyes. My heart fluttered as I sought to lose in the moment.

‘Filles non!’ Claudette marched into the room and placed the tray she was carrying on the side table before pulling us apart shaking her finger at us. ‘You are here for Madam Reynard. There will be work to be done, and games to play, but games are only in the presence of Madam. Now, I will explain a few simple rules for your stay here at Chateau de la Bouche. You may leave at any time … nobody will stop you, but if you leave without permission you may not return. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Madam,’ we chorused.

‘Non, I am not the madam, you will refer to me as Claudette.’ She smiled reassuringly.

‘Yes, Claudette.’

As I have already mentioned, you must only afyon escort play when you’re being watched – either by Madam or by one of her guests. At any time that you’re being watched, you will appear as sexual and arousing as you are able. Both Madam Reynard and myself will be on hand to instruct you in the early days. Let me give you an example. When bending over, to dust or pick something up, you will maintain straight legs so that your skirt rises prettily and your bottom is presented. When serving at table, you will allow your cleavage to be displayed and you will also bend forward keeping your legs straight. If you are ever touched, you will continue whatever you are doing unless instructed otherwise. Do you understand all so far?’

‘Yes, Claudette.’

‘Good girls. Should you do anything wrong, or break something, then you will be punished. Do you understand that?’

‘Yes, Claudette.’

‘Well, you both look very presentable.’ She reached out and tugged my dress slightly lower to expose the top of my nipples; I blushed and managed to stop myself from instantly pulling the bodice back up. ‘Much better, my dear. Now, both of you lift your skirts; show me your under-things…’

Now totally embarrassed, we shyly lifted our skirts, gathering the short folds of starched cloth to expose our tiny black knickers.

‘…and lower your undergarments.’

We both hesitated, blushing furiously at the request, but then I lowered my knickers to the top of my stockings and stood back up, gathering my skirts again to show my newly shaven pussy and moments later, Clare did the same.

‘Very pretty. Each morning you will shave each other. You may leave a small amount of hair upon your pubis, if you wish, but the area around your vagina and anus must be without hair and soft. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Claudette.’

‘Good girls, you may recover your undergarments. And now, I will offer you a little advice about your attitude. Although at all times you must do as you are told, Madam Reynard finds it especially … how do you say … desirable, if you appear shy and hesitant whenever you find yourself in a sexual situation … compreneze … do you understand?’

‘Yes, Claudette.’ Clare’s hand found mine and I knew that neither of us would have any problems appearing shy or indeed hesitant … she was trembling as much as me.

‘Very well, let us see shall we? I would like you both to lower your … how do you say properly in your English, knickers? And then to turn around and bend over … do it now.’ She smiled encouragingly, folded her arms and waited expectantly.

‘No … please, Claudette. That’s rude … you can’t make us do that,’ cried Clare wringing her hands.

‘We can’t, Claudette. Please …’ I echoed ‘Please don’t make us … You can’t …’

‘Do it!’

With little need to appear reluctant, we both turned our backs on Claudette and bent slowly forward. I was trembling with renewed shame and real nerves and that little voice claiming to be my sanity was screaming at me that this was wrong! This was rude and disgusting to be displaying myself like this to another woman – however, the new lesbian slut in me managed to ignore the impulse to run. Reaching under my skirt with trembling fingers, I fumbled for the edges of my knickers and slowly slid them down until they touched the tops of my stockings feeling the cool play of air across my bare bottom and exposed pussy. As I moved my legs a little further apart and felt the lips of my vagina open I felt such a slut.

We stayed like that, legs straight, leaning forward with our hands pinning our knickers to our knees as Claudette moved closer. Her fingers fluttered across my bare bottom before finding my pussy and lightly parting the folds of my vagina. There was a small yelp from Clare beside me, and then Claudette pushed two fingers into my cunt and I gasped feeling the muscles of my vagina close around her fingers.

‘Good little girls … but do not move.’

I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles allowing her fingers slowly to withdraw before just as slowly, push back in making me sway on my heels. The fingers withdrew completely and beside me, Clare groaned.

‘Stand and turn around.’

We did as we were told, pulling our knickers back up as we did so. Claudette was smiling, holding her hands out to us, fingers glistening with juices from our pussies.

‘You will clean. Come…come.’ She held out the fingers that had been in Clare’s cunt and pushed them into my mouth. I sucked them, savouring the sticky muskiness – the delicious lewd depravity of the action making me feel at once so awful, yet also so wonderful. Claudette smiled in satisfaction at the way I succumbed to her demands.

‘You are a good little slut.’ Satisfied her fingers had been cleaned she removed them from my mouth and then pushed down the right cup of my dress, fully exposing my right breast. She took hold of my nipple, lifted my breast and folded down the fabric of the afyon escort bayan dress beneath to provide support. My nipple was hard and erect, even before she wiped the juices from her other hand, the juices from my own vagina all over my nipple and surrounding breast. Turning to Clare, she took a handful of her hair and then drew her face gently towards my chest.

‘Clean her.’ Clare complied, lapping at my sticky breast, sucking as much into her mouth as she could, her tongue teasing over my nipple before searching for more of my juices around the edge of my breast. As I gasped, she moaned and Claudette laughed. ‘You English sluts … such dirty girls, yes? I tell Madam how I caught you I think … come!’

Pulling Clare around by the hair, she reached out and took hold of my nipple. It was wet from Clare’s attention and it slipped from between her fingers. Her hand lashed out, she slapped my breast and I cried out, more from the shock than any pain.

She smiled at me and I was confused. ‘Dry yourself, little slut.’

‘Yes, Claudette.’ I wiped my hand across my exposed flesh a few times wishing I could cover my breast. Reaching out once more, she took a firm hold on my nipple and drew me after her as she marched from the room.

It was hard to walk, being pulled like this. If I didn’t keep up it only resulted in Claudette pulling harder on my nipple, which hurt, so I tottered on as best I could. Beside her, Clare was also having trouble forced to walk bent forward dragged by her hair.

At last, we came to a library and stumbled in as a sobbing untidy group. Claudette let us both go and Clare stood up beside me rubbing at her hair. I held my breast wincing at the sting and gazed about at the shelves of books that lined the walls of this new room of the chateau. There was a long table in the centre with chairs drawn up to it and two leather armchairs close to an unlit fire. Sitting with legs crossed in one of the armchairs was Madam Reynard wearing a short black dress, now looking every inch the dominating Mistress that she was. She stared at us without expression and I tried to judge what mood she might be in, but it was taking a moment for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. The windows were shuttered and candles from three large candelabras, set it different points around the room, offered the only light.

‘How sweet you look, but you must arrange your uniforms, girls. My lesbian slut maids who will do anything to be fucked by their mistress.’

‘Madam …’ Claudette tried to explain our entrance but Madam Reynard held up a hand to silence her. Feeling a little relieved, I covered my tortured breast and smoothed down my uniform. Beside me, Clare did the same, adjusting one of the clasps from her suspender belt that had come undone, and then pushing her fingers through her hair. I re-clipped one of my own stockings realising it was on opportunity to pose for Madam Reynard. I wished I could check my make-up, hoping my mascara hadn’t run and glanced about for a mirror but couldn’t see one.

‘That is better girls. We will start your duties by having you dust the books. You will find dusters on the table, be sure to dust the top shelves especially carefully.’

‘Yes, Madam,’ we chorused, bobbing curtsies. Following Clare, I took a feather duster from the table, walked over to the bookcase close to the fire and began to flick the feathers over the books. I could feel Madam Reynard watching me as I dusted and realised I really liked it. I tried to offer a pretty sight for her, bending forward with legs held straight whilst pushing out my bottom. I could feel the tiny skirt rise and the tension on the suspender belt change and knew that my bottom was very exposed and I must look deliciously rude. The slut in me took over fully and I dusted lower, opening my legs a little further.

After a few flicks of the duster I stood straight and began dusting up towards the upper rows – Clare, I realised, was doing much the same beside me. I stole a look in her direction and caught her smile, which I returned knowing she was enjoying herself as much as me … yes I really was enjoying the whole experience.

‘You may stand on the chair to reach the top shelves.’

‘Thank you, Madam,’ said Clare.

‘Yes, thank you Madam,’ I echoed, and then taking a chair from the table, brought it back, set it by the bookcase and climbed on.

As I flicked my duster over the top books, I jumped slightly as I felt a hand run up the inside of my leg.

‘Do not stop. Keep up your work.’ It was Madam Reynard.

‘Yes, Madam.’ I dusted on, reaching to the sides feeling as Madam Reynard’s hand continued to climb to my stocking tops, hovering over the area where nylon met skin. She took the suspender strap at the back of my leg and snapped it back against my skin.

‘Long, beautiful firm legs,’ she murmured as she touched me.

As I reached once more to the side, I took the opportunity to spread my legs a little further and felt her hand escort afyon move up to caress the soft area of skin at the very top of my inner thigh, barely touching me through my knickers. My pussy was wet and I hoped beyond hope that she would draw my knickers to the side, slide a finger into my cunt and fuck me … but she didn’t.

She slapped my bottom softly several times eliciting small slap slap sounds. ‘Claudette, expose this ones breasts. They are big and soft and should be displayed.’

‘Oui, Madam. You … pretty slut,’ she tapped me on the leg. ‘Get down.’

Yes, Claudette … Madam.’ Steadying myself by holding onto the bookcase, I managed to climb down from the chair, overcoming my shaking legs, to stand before Claudette.

‘Please … not … please don’t do this to me, I …’ My hands fluttered protectively over my breasts. Fear rose inside me again and the play-acting was suddenly very real. I was too scared to be exposed like this. It was all going to fast. ‘I’m sorry, but this …’

‘Be quiet and hold still. Keep your hands at your sides.’ Slapping my hands down, she pulled down the right cup of my bodice and, taking hold of my nipple, lifted up my breast so she could fold down the material to act as support. I gazed down seeing my breast supported, offered up, as she let go of the nipple, which became hard and erect again. I watched as she repeated the procedure on my left breast. Once finished, she fondled each in turn as if arranging them, and then pinched each nipple hard before waving me back to my dusting. I stayed at floor level, my chest feeling exposed and strange, and noticed that as Care perched on a chair, Madam Reynard’s hand was at the top of her legs and, I suspected, she had a finger or two in her pussy – Clare was still dusting but her face was flushed.

‘Keep dusting, girl.’ Madam Reynard finished with Clare and turned back to me. ‘Come here.’

I stopped dusting and turned to stand in front of Madam Reynard. She looked me up and down with a neutral gaze and I struggled to keep my hands on my lap clutching the duster rather than covering myself. Reaching out, she cupped my breasts, lifting them, feeling their weight. I felt my face blush and I looked about the room, trying to mentally distance myself from the embarrassment of having my tits fondled by this near stranger.

‘Beautiful.’ She lifted them and let them fall. I felt my cold skin pucker as the contact with her warm hands was lost. ‘Move your chest from side to side, let me see them move.’

‘Mistress?’

‘Do it! Shake your tities girl, and not too fast.’

I did as she asked, moving my chest from side to side, my breasts swaying and jiggling as my face became even redder – this was so embarrassing … so demeaning. I saw Clare watching over Madam Reynard’s shoulder. She had stopped dusting and was staring at my breasts obviously enjoying my torment. I pushed out my chest just a little more and, looking at her, continued swaying showing my chest.

‘Enough, dear. Claudette, the clips.’

I gazed in horror as Claudette opened a small wooden box and removed a length of chain with clips on the ends, evidently destined for my already engorged nipples.

‘No, Mistress, Please don’t.’ Madam Reynard’s hand snaked out and slapped my left breast and I cried out in shock.

‘Silence, girl. The clips will not hurt you but the punishment you have brought onto yourself will.’

‘Please don’t hurt her, Madam.’ Clare blushed as we all turned to her, still standing on her chair.

‘You will come and share her punishment. Get down here now.’

‘Yes Madam.’

‘Firstly, Maid Josie will wear her nipple clamps and Maid Clare, you will put them on her. Here …’ She held the chains out to Clare who reluctantly took them.

‘I’m sorry, Josie,’ mumbled Clare. She sorted the chains out then taking one of the clamps brought it up to my left breast. She pinched my nipple, drew it out from my chest and clipped the tiny clamp onto the stretched flesh.

I drew in a breath as the pain flared through me and I resisted the impulse to tear it off. I watched, biting my lip, as she repeated the procedure on my other nipple. After a moment, the pain seemed to subside and I found that it was in fact bearable. It felt like my nipples were on fire and I was more aware of them than at any other time.

‘Both of you … bend over the table.’ We did as she asked, keeping our legs straight and bottoms pushed out. Every time I moved and my breasts swayed, new jolts of pain ran through me. The fire only subsiding again as I stood bent over, my breasts hanging freely beneath me. My knickers were pulled to my knees and a foot kicked my shoes further apart spreading my legs. Without any warning, a spanking began, covering both cheeks of my bottom and down to the insides of my legs. I bit my lip again and tried to go with the experience, riding the pain in my bottom as well as the jolts through my breast as they swayed with the impact of each slap. After a few minutes, the spanking finished.

‘Stay where you are.’

Something cold dribbled between the cheeks of my bottom. I felt its slow progress trickling down until it went tickled over my anus before continuing its run down to my vagina. I heard Clare groan next to me and then heard my own voice join hers.

Even though Cari was still a virgin at 18, she knew that she absolutely loved sex. She planned on having a life filled with sexual adventure. She daydreamed constantly about sex. She wanted to try everything there was to try, and she wanted to start this process soon. As much as she enjoyed masturbation, she knew it was time to find other people to share her horniness with.

In fact, Cari masturbated so often that she sometimes found it hard to get anything else done. Sometimes for three or four hours a day, she’d play with herself. Even at work, she’d sneak off to be alone to relieve some of the burning she felt from her young and eager pussy. And when she was alone at home, she pulled out all of the stops. Her favorite thing to do was to climb onto her bathroom sink counter, and fuck herself with her toys. She loved to watch herself, to watch the toys slip into her cunt, to see how the juices seeped out when she penetrated herself. She really had no inhibitions; she began to suck on her dildo after it had been inside of her, and really loved her taste, and it just made her hotter to know she was doing something that so many people would find obscene. She even began playing with her puckered asshole. She saw it in the mirror and loved the way it looked. The fist time she touched it with her smallest vibrator, she nearly passed out from the sensation. She knew that when the time was right, she’d make some men very happy by giving them her hot ass.

Cari could not deny it. She found herself to be very sexy. The countertop masturbation sessions went on for hours at a time. She loved the way she looked; she loved the curves of her body, and the soft feel of her skin. She loved the way she looked and smelled when she came. She loved it all so much; she just knew that she needed to find another sexy girl to play with.

This new determination kept Cari horny constantly. There were so many hot looking girls in her classes, she stayed wet all day just thinking of what she would like to do to them. Still, weeks went by and she was not able to make herself come on to a girl, as much as she wanted to. Finally though, something wonderful happened. In one class, the professor paired up students to work on a project together. Cari’s partner agrı escort was to be Julie, one of the girls she had been fantasizing about.

Julie was, like Cari, 18, though it was hard to believe. She was a petit redhead. She had great curves for her frame and the results were impressive. Her breasts swelled perfectly inside of her sweaters and blouses, and her flat stomach flowed into beautifully lined hips and a perfect apple of an ass. In spite of her curves, Julie looked very young. She wore very little make up. She didn’t need to. And she would often wear her hair in a disarray of various pigtails, pointed any which way off of her head. It all gave her a very fresh look She looked to Cari like a girl who could be a freshman in high school, not college.

All day Cari had been even more turned on than usual, and more than a little nervous. Julie was coming over that night to work on their assignment. She wanted so bad to get her mouth on that girl’s pussy. She knew it was risky, but just the though of Julie’s firm body made Cari’s cunt gush, so she would take the chance.

On this night Julie wore an outfit that made her look particularly young and slutty. It was the classic, nearly cliché, schoolgirl outfit; thigh-high white stockings, green and blue plaid skirt, and a very tightly fitting white blouse. The black lace bra was easily seen through the material of the blouse. Cari gasped when Julie came in. She had to remind herself that the girl was her own age; so she didn’t feel guilty that she was about to seduce someone who seemed SO young.

With her mind made up, it became very easy to flirt with Julie. The first thing she did was to compliment her outfit.

“That is a very hot outfit, Julie. You look like an older man’s wet dream.”

Julie giggled, “Yeah, I like to play it up. I know how young I look. It freaks a lot of these college boys out, but older men love it. Once they find out that I look like this, but I’m legal AND like to fuck, well I can get anything from them.”

This actually made Cari blush. Any conversations she had had before this with Julie were only about schoolwork. To have their friendship jump ahead that fast made her feel very at ease. escort ağrı She giggled back at Julie and said they should get to work.

The project was going well. They took turns at the computer, typing their different parts. They worked well together. Then something happened that made Cari wonder just who was going to seduce whom. She left Julie at the computer while she was in the bathroom, and then in the kitchen making them a snack. When she came back, Julie seemed a little flushed, and she definitely had undone the two top buttons on her blouse. The sexy black lace bra was clearly visible to Cari now.

“I have a confession to make,” Julie said. ” I was tired of typing, so I started wandering around your hard drive. I found this.” She clicked a button and a picture popped on the screen of two beautiful women in a passionate kiss, their tongues playing together.

Cari was a little embarrassed; she thought Julie would hate her for the pictures. Instead Julie asked, “Have you ever done that, Cari? I mean with another girl?”

Again Julie’s frankness and gentleness put Cari at ease. “No I’ve never been with another person at all. I just really like to play with myself.”

“Oh, me too! Masturbation can be so great,” Julie answered. “But I have to have some cock too, I just need to feel that penetration. One time though, I was with another girl. I loved it, even though the whole thing was really strange.”

“How was it strange?” Cari asked.

“I was with one of the older men I mentioned, he’s a widower, and we were at his house, fucking like crazy. It was the middle of the day so we were just in the living room; he had me bent over the arm of the sofa, doing me from behind. I looked up and noticed his daughter was staring at us. At first I freaked out, but her dad just said ‘Hi Sweetie’ to her and kept pounding me. She just took off her clothes and walked right up to me. I was scared, but she put her pussy right up to my mouth and I went for it. She tasted so sweet that I couldn’t stop. That afternoon the three of us did everything. Watching him ass fuck his own daughter was the most intense thing I’ve ever seen. I got so turned on that I ate his cum out of her ass.”

Cari ağrı escort bayan was stunned to silence during the story, but finally was able to respond by saying “Shit that is hot!”

Julie giggled, “I can see you REALLY liked hearing that.”

Cari was so turned on that she had pulled up her skirt and was stroking her cunt without realizing it. The look on Julie’s face said she did not mind, so Cari laughed back. “Yeah, I really need to get off Julie.” She continued playing.

“Oooh Cari, that is so hot, I need to get off too.” With that Julie took down the last of her buttons and removed her blouse. Then she raised her skirt as well showing black panties that matched the bra. She started to rub her cunt through the material, but then pleased Cari by taking off the panties and bra, standing there fully naked. This petit girl was so hot, and so confident. Cari continued rubbing herself with her hand in her panties.

Julie stepped toward Cari and grabbed her wrists. She then lifted Cari’s hand out of her panties and to her mouth. Julie licked Cari’s cunt juiced from her fingers, and then kissed her deeply, moving them to the bedroom. Their tongues played as they shared the juices from Cari’s hot pussy. The nervousness had left and there was only passion as Julie removed Cari’s panties and began to eat her. She must have come three times, each with much intensity, as Julie teased her clit and explored with her tongue.

They kissed again, for a long time, as they caressed and fondled each other’s bodies. The feelings overwhelmed Cari; she thought she might cry from happiness. She wanted to make Julie come. She moved down between Julie’s legs. She stopped to admire how lovely this pussy was. It was shaven, except for a small patch of red hair. The lips were very puffy and swollen. It was dotted with beads of moisture. With her first lick and taste of another pussy, Cari knew that women would always be a part of her sexual exploration.

The softness, the beauty, and the smells that she loved so much in her own body were there in Julie, only slightly different. The smell and taste of Julie’s cunt was different from her own, but they were both amazing. She wondered how other women tasted, and couldn’t wait to find out. She ate Julie over and over, savoring every minute, bringing her off again and again. She then crawled up and kissed Julie again with deep, lustful kisses. Finally, Cari fell back onto the bed, exhausted, and drifted to sleep holding on to her new lover.

To Be Continued…

We’ve all got secrets. And why shouldn’t we? It’s part of who we are. Having secrets simply means you’re a normal person. Sometimes I will never apologize for. My name is Marguerite Alexandre Jean. I’m a five-foot-eleven, lean and athletic, dark-skinned Black woman of Haitian descent living in the city of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I teach History at Saint Joseph Academy, a private Catholic school in the Barrhaven suburb of Ottawa. I’m in my early forties, supposedly happily married to a handsome Black man named Joel Jean, who works as a police officer in downtown Ottawa. We are the proud parents of James, Elisabeth and Benjamin Jean. They’re all students at Carleton University these days. Yeah, life is okay for us. At least that’s what I tell myself.

However, it’s all a front. The truth is that I haven’t been satisfied in my marriage for a long time. My husband Armand and I no longer have any passion or chemistry between us. Honestly, I think we stay together because of the bills and for the sake of appearances. My sex drive is too much for him, I guess. He can’t keep up with me. Or maybe I am just a slut, pure and simple. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m not getting what I need from my husband. We don’t spend much time together anymore. And I like to have my fun. I like the human body and its infinite varieties. And I like sex, too. Male or female, Black and White, it doesn’t matter as long as they are hot. It’s something I hide from my family and friends. Appearances must be maintained, you understand.

Sometimes I wonder what my family and friends would say if they knew that I liked women. I am a member of the choir at the Abundant Life Temple of Ottawa. The Pastor of the church, Dr. Jarvis Saint Mathieu is a Haitian man I knew from my days at the University of Toronto. A charming guy who majored in Theology. His wife Mildred Altidor is a tall, light-skinned and short-haired Haitian woman originally from the city of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti. She works as a dentist at the Place De Ville. I can’t stand that bitch or her uptight sons Ricardo and Wilson but her husband Jarvis is a nice man. There are a lot of people I can’t stand at the Abundant Life church but I go there with my family anyway. I like to be surrounded by my own people at least once a week. If you lived in the lily-white and uptight, bigoted city of Ottawa you’d understand. Abundant Life Temple is a nice enough place. It’s an Adventist Church so we go on Saturday mornings. We’ve got about three hundred people in the congregation and eighty nine percent of us are Haitians. The rest are adıyaman escort Africans, along with a few Asians and some white folks who keep coming in with weird smiles and even weirder questions.

When I was a student at the University of Toronto, I lived a very different life. My parents and I lived in the suburb of Ajax and it was a quiet town. I couldn’t stand it. So I would go to downtown Toronto for a good time. I met sexy young women and men from all over. Africans, Arabs, Asians and Hispanics. Toronto attracted all kinds of people from the immigrant populations of Ontario. I met a very cute gal named Nancy Driscoll. She was half Irish and half Black. A tall, leggy gal with light brown skin, long Black hair and pale green eyes. We had a lot of fun together. Just two young women exploring their sexuality. Nancy knew how to rock my world. We had our fun on the down low for years. Then she got married to a Jamaican businessman named Tyrone Johnson and they moved to Halifax. Last I heard, they were the proud parents of six brats. I guess she went normal on me.

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t end up one of those women who married for convenience and kept female lovers on the side. Yet that’s exactly what happened to me. After Nancy Driscoll left, I was depressed. I hooked up with guys and girls in the bars and clubs to dull the pain and loneliness I felt. During that phase, I met this Haitian guy named Armand Jean. He was studying Criminal Justice at Carleton University and aspired to work for either the Royal Canadian Mounted Police or the Ottawa Police Service. He was cute and friendly. We hooked up and he actually got me pregnant. I panicked, because I thought my life was over. Armand told me he cared about me and wanted to be there for me. Eleven months ago, I accepted his marriage proposal. Fast forward twenty years, and we’re living in the suburbs. I earned my degree from the University of Toronto and became a teacher. Armand is now a sergeant with the Ottawa Police Service. We own the duplex we live in. In the eyes of the world, we’re doing good. I’m what I always dreaded becoming. A married woman whose family and friends don’t know she’s really into women.

For the past six months, I’ve been carrying on an affair with this Haitian gal named Adele Grains. A five-foot-nine, plump, short-haired and big-bottomed, pleasantly Butch-looking Black woman whom I find quite interesting most of the time but wickedly fun after hours. Adele is married to a wealthy architect named Raul Ramos, who’s Brazilian, I think. She holds escort adıyaman a business degree from the University of Ottawa and now works as a Fact Checker for the Ottawa Sun, the daily newspaper of the capital. We don’t have a lot in common, at least not in the eyes of the world. Adele’s daughter Ramona is one of the players on the Saint Joseph Academy women’s Rugby team, which I coach. I used to play Rugby for the University of Toronto back in the day. I like coaching Rugby and teaching young women the many lessons one learns about oneself through sports.

Saint Joseph Academy is the most diverse private school in the entire city of Ottawa, with forty six percent of its students identifying as visible minorities. For those of you who don’t speak elitist Canadian, visible minority means non-White person living in the Confederation of Canada. That’s what the supposedly open-minded and multicultural White Canadians call those of us who are descended from Arabs, Africans, Asians, Hispanics or Aboriginal peoples. Such a nice term they’ve got to describe us, eh? Needless to say, I’m not in love with that terminology. Welcome to life in Canada.

Anyway, I met Adele at a Rugby game and I guess we clicked. She asked me out to a coffee date so we could talk about her daughter’s performance on the Rugby team. Little did I know that she was more interested in me. Adele is bisexual and her husband Raul is completely unaware of it. Just like my husband Armand has no idea that I’ve been sleeping with women throughout our marriage. Adele and I have these little get-togethers when nobody else is around. You’d be surprised how many married women lead secret lives. The kind of secret lives that would stun their husbands and families. I don’t feel guilty about what I do. I need something my husband can’t give me. I’m not hurting anybody. I’m just having some fun, that’s all.

I like these fun little hook-ups with Adele. I need to feel a woman’s lips against my own, and a woman’s hands on my body. I need it every once in a while. Otherwise I might go crazy. Adele is a lot of fun. She’s got a nice body on her. I tell her this every time we get our freak on. I love to lie down on the couch while she sucks on my toes and fingers my pussy. Adele has a foot fetish. She loves tall Black women with long legs. Well, I’m cool with that. And she is really good at licking and fingering my pussy. Adele is the reason why I shave my pussy at least once a week. My husband Armand doesn’t care. He’s banging a blonde-haired fat white chick named Denise, adıyaman escort bayan the wife of a police buddy of his. We both pretend I don’t know about it. As long as Armand is discreet, I don’t care who he fucks. We haven’t had sex since George W. Bush was in the White House!

Adele is the person I turn to for sexual satisfaction. And my favourite Haitian diva definitely does not disappoint. She is a real rough rider who sometimes ties me up on her bed and fists my cunt. I scream loud enough to wake the dead when she does me like this. It’s amazingly intense. Sometimes, she ties up my breasts and smacks them really hard. Adele introduced me to the joys of fisting. She also loves to spank my big butt and occasionally leaves bluish marks on the dark brown skin of my round heart-shaped buttocks. I don’t mind the marks. Just like I don’t mind the soreness after she’s fisted my cunt seven ways to Sunday. It’s worth it. Occasionally, Adele brings her toys into the bedroom and I love it. When she wears the strap-on dildo, my favourite diva looks dangerously sexy. I love giving her head while on my knees. Adele loves it when I suck her strap-on dildo. Afterwards, she puts me on all fours and fucks me doggy-style while smacking my ass. I love it when she slams her dildo deep into my cunt. It feels so fucking good.

Adele is a freaky mama and I never know what she’s doing to do. One time, she was licking my pussy when she suddenly shoved two fingers up my ass. Talk about surprising. I gasped in shock. Adele just smiled and continued fingering my ass. It was a bit strange but I liked it. I am no stranger to anal play. Adele and I have thoroughly explored this neglected fetish of mine. She loves to lubricate my ass with lotion before gently sliding dildos and fingers up my butt hole. I like getting it in the ass. Especially when Adele wears the strap-on dildo and plunges it up my booty. Who says Black women don’t like anal sex? Many of us do. And my Adele knows exactly how it’s done. I always have fun with her.

After our fun hook-ups, sometimes we go shopping. Adele’s hubby and family know that we’re friends. They just don’t know the extent of our unique friendship. Lately, Adele has been taking her family to Abundant Life Temple. That means we get to spend more time together. I wish we could be together always. Sadly, I know it’s not meant to be. I won’t even seriously entertain the idea. It’s just sometimes I like to fantasize about, that’s all. Adele’s life with her hubby and daughter matters too much for her to jeopardize. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve grown semi-comfortable with my life in the suburbs. It’s not perfect but it’s all I’ve got. Can two queer Haitian women live together and love one another in Canada? That would really be something. Would my life have turned out different if Adele and I had met twenty years ago? Maybe. Maybe not. I guess we’ll never know.

I was only twenty three when my identity was stolen. They used it to buy illegal things. I got charged for it. I had no way to prove that I wasn’t the one buying all this shit that they said that I did. I don’t even fully no what I “bought”, because of security issues. The judge was a hard-ass dyke with no mercy. I didn’t have a chance. I was charged with the intent to sell and buy illegal foreign goods, and I got 4-6 years in jail, with parole possible halfway through.

Anyone who knew me, knew that I wouldn’t do anything like this, and was the least likely do ever be in jail. I was drove from the city jail to the women’s State of Florida Penitentiary. We were given powder blue, crotch binding jumpsuits. My blonde hair is undone, and dirty.

Before I got here I was a dance instructor, for a Tampa Bay dance studio. During college I used to be a cheerleader for the Tampa Bay Bucs. As you could guess, I had a great body, and a tan too! My weekly schedule included, dancing everyday, tanning everyday, and dating everyday. I used to go to the nude beach to get a full body tan, and once in awhile pickup a guy. My legs, arms, and abs are lean and muscled, but not too muscled. My tits were pert and stayed up without much aid from a bra. I had a pure dancer ass, and kept it virginal. I just think that sticking anything up there is kind of icky.

The bus drove up to the gate of prison, and we were unloaded, guards with shotguns in hands. We walked through the path with gated sides, as the bulky, trailer trash girls hollered and shouted at us. The prison inside was as gray as the clouded, rainy sky. I took the staircase at the end up and was pushed into the cell. They were 12X10 with a bunk bed, toilet, and a couple of boxes filled with shit. It was dark and I could tell that I already had a roommate on the top bunk.

I walked to the bottom bunk, laid down in a ball and cried. I cried myself to sleep the first night.

The lights went on, and guards came in at seven. The gates opened up and I saw my roommate come down for the first time. She was pretty, much prettier than one could imagine being in jail. She had curly auburn hair past her shoulders. Her eyes matched her hair color, and her build was average. She was thin, but not too thin. If she had told me she was a dancer I would have believed her. “I heard you crying last night, but believe me it gets easier every night – I’m Tammy.”

I just nodded my head and looked at the wall. She was nice. It would be terrible here I knew, but she could be a bright spot in here. “Alright, I’m Sarah.” “So what are we doing here know?”

“Shower time,” she said. Oh shit now I am going to have to be naked with a bunch of jail house lesbians. This was quite possibly more scary than going into my cell for the first time. I was sure that these girls would rip me apart mentally and physically, because of what I looked like. My thoughts were soon realized when we walked into the room. We had to strip completely of our clothes and drop them off at the desk to be washed. We were naked and had to walk upright in a line through the shower. I had to walk to the end of the shower to find a shower head trabzon escort that was untaken. I cried all the way down, because all the big girls were shouting obscenities and me. Some girls grabbed my ass and poked my pussy as I walked down to the end. My friend Tammy walked down to the end with me and showered next to me. She knew how bad it was for me, probably because it had happened to her to. We were getting wet when she reached across me and grabbed some shampoo. On the way back from squeezing some into her hands she gently grazed my breasts with her arm. I tried to think nothing of it. I looked to my left to see a rather rougher inmate. This girl was probably in her late 30’s and was muscular, she was six foot and weighed a little under 200 pounds. She caught my eyes and gave me a mean look, so I looked forward. I felt her reach over and grab my ass really tightly, then stick a finger in it. She told me to be quiet or she’d hurt me. She pulled out seconds later when a guard walked past. I left and moved over so Tammy was to my left with the wall to my right. ” It’s Ok, they’ll leave you alone real soon.” That wasn’t too reassuring. I was almost done washing off, when I stole a glance at Tammy again. She had her head up in the air in ecstasy, and was frantically rubbing her pussy, I couldn’t tell because of the shower but she must have been flowing juices, because when she finished up she was leaning against the wall.

We got back to our rooms, and we laid on our beds. “I saw you masturbating in the shower.”

I got no response for a couple of seconds. “Yea, well it’s sometimes hard in your room, because your moans might make too much noise at night, and who wants to lay all night in a pool of cum.” She made a good point. We ended that conversation at that, and I went to sleep. I woke up probably a few hours later. I opened my eyes and Tammy was sitting on the floor facing my with her eyes closed , and her pants around her knees. It was daytime and everyone in the other rooms were talking so I guess she thought she could get away with it now. I closed my eyes a little so if she were to look at me she would think that I was still sleeping. I only one time experimented in college with a girl and it wasn’t the greatest thing ever just good, but my pussy was wet now, probably because I wouldn’t be with a guy for a long time. Sure enough she did look at me, and kept her eyes on me. Her other hand was keeping her upright while her right hand was going between her pussy and her mouth. She had thick brown pubic hair around her pussy, and the aroma filled the little cell. I snuck my hand into under my blanket, and put a finger in my vagina. I moaned a little bit and fidgeted, but I don’t think that she noticed. I slightly opened my eyes back up and saw her taking her shirt off. Her tits were huge, and firm, likely d-cups. Her nipples were a dark shade of brown, and big, big and pointy. She laid on her back and slid her pants completely off and kicked them into the corner. Her right hand still was fingering her pussy, her left had was squeezing her tits, then shot down and was cupping her ass. She took them it off of trabzon escort bayan her ass, and spread her pussy lips open with it, she did it enough so that she could push her entire hand into her pussy. I couldn’t believe that she was fisting herself. She pumped, and I mean really pumped her fist in and out, until a quick scream let out and a puddle was formed underneath her. I closed my eyes completely so she wouldn’t know what I saw. My blanket covered my nude body from the waste down, thank God.

For twenty minutes I fingered myself, but didn’t come too close to orgasm. Without warning my blanket was ripped off me. I was too caught up to move my hand or anything. ” Ha, I knew that you were masturbating under there.” “I’m guessing that you saw me too, I usually get pretty into it.”

“Well yea, I just saw you, and you were getting away with it, and watching you I must say was getting my very hot,” I said.

“Well thank you for that comment, and we do it all the time in here.” “Sometimes we don’t masturbate alone either, in case you wanted to know.” I did want to know that too. I thought about that all day everywhere I went.

It was getting late at night after the lights were out, and I was still thinking about it. I figured I would try something that I wouldn’t normally do, but considering the circumstances, why not. I snuck out of bed and climbed up the ladder and laid next to Tammy, she was sleeping very deeply. I stared at her for a moment then brushed my nose against her neck and hair. I rubbed my cheek against hers, then softly laid my lips upon hers. I pulled back and pecked her again and again. This time I left my lips on her and poked my tongue out onto her lips. She finally woke up looked at me and smiled. Tammy grazed her hand through the back of my hair, kissed my passionately. Our tongues danced in each other’s mouth. We were grabbing each others heads rather violently and strong. Our breathes were heavier than a storm’s wind.

She stopped kissing me, and sucked on my neck, and upper breasts. She sucked through my moans for over five minutes until I had at least five or six dark hickeys on me. My pussy was dripping wet, and visible wetness was seen through my clothes. I took control of her and laid her down on the bed with me laying over me. I pulled her pants off, and smelled, ever so deeply her vaginal region. She giggled. I for the first time really dove my head into a girl’s pussy, I took in the smell, and rubbed my head in her juices. She was soaking but I dried her off pretty well. I thought about how she’s probably done this many times before. I used both of my hands on her now in correlation with my face. Three of my fingers on my right hand were probing the bottom of her vagina and my tongue licked her clit at the same time. My left hand rubbed it’s way down to her ass. I had never played with my ass or a boyfriends ass before, and certainly not a girl’s. I used one finger at first not knowing what it would be like, it was very tight and warm. It wasn’t the cleanest or most normal of things to do, but we were in jail and nothing is. I knew she had gotten something in escort trabzon her ass before so I but two more fingers deep inside. The whole fingers were probing and feeling around the deep crevasses of her butt hole. She was panting with ecstasy, since my ass trek. I took my face off of her pussy and grabbed her by the hips and physically flipped her over. I spread her ass cheeks with my two hands, and then licked up and down her crack. I could smell it muskiness, but it wasn’t strong at all. I was so horny right now that I didn’t care at all. I flicked her little rosebud ass hole with my tongue, and fingered it with my indexes of both hands. “I can’t take it anymore”, she screamed. She rolled her body back over and fingered herself with my assistance to a powerful orgasm, that soaked the bed around her. She dug her fingers into the back of my head and threw it into her. I licked her dry, and more. I collapsed my body onto her heaving breasts, taking one of her nipples into my mouth.

We fell asleep that away, on that night. I was awoke by her shaking me. “Wake up is in one hour, but let’s have fun first!” I moped up, and she directed me to a sitting position, with my back to the wall. It was cold on the ground, and a little moist from the small drain underneath me. “Take off your clothes.” It finally hit me what last night was. So I took of my clothes and replaced my solemn face, with a smirk. She pulled her pants down and faced her pussy at me. “Jail is a place for kinky shit too, honey.” What on earth was she talking about? Her aimed pussy let out a flow of piss, onto my face. “O, you like that don’t you new girl?” After the shock and taste factors, I started too! She pulled it back after only like five seconds.

“I’m gonna take my clothes off!”, I said.

“Yea, good idea.” So I undressed very quickly, but they were already damp. She got a little bit closer to me, asked if I was ready, then shot into my waiting mouth. I drank what little hit my mouth down. She covered my tits, and my pussy with it, until she was all done.

“OK, now do me.” She didn’t need to tell me twice. I switched places with her, but before I sat her down, I had her lick all the piss off of my tits. My nipples were pointing straight out at least three quarters of an inch. After that, my piss, first slowly peeked out, then became a jet. I pissed about half my load, then she told me to stop. She took my hands and laid me on top of her. Our bodies were completely on top of each other. Our cunt mounds were rubbing up against each other. I started to piss into her pussy, which caused her to scream, a quick, but very loud sound.

We got dressed a couple of minutes later so we wouldn’t tire our selves out for the rest of the day, that and also because wake up was in a couple of minutes. We just laid in our beds until the bell went off and the cell gates opened. When ours opened up a middle aged woman along with two guards walked into the room and sat me down on the bed. She introduced herself as the warden and went into a long talk about how my lawyer had been working on a case for a while and proved my innocence. They all left after what seemed to be a long conversation just leaving me and my roommate in the cell together. I was so happy, but a little part of me was sad that I was going to her. “Don’t worry honey.” That was easy for her to say, she was just going to get a new roommate. “My parole is up in a month.” A smile grew to my face, because today was an awesome day.

The Boarding School was halfway up a mountain, overlooking a quaint European village built on the shore of a beautiful lake.

Lenka loved opening the windows in the morning and breathing in the fresh mountain air. She had been at Miss Astor’s Boarding School for Young Witches for over a year now and she still wasn’t tired of this morning ritual.

She had been living alone in her room for two over the last couple of weeks because her roommate had to leave, her parents had settled in another country and they wanted to have her daughter closer. Not that Lenka minded, she enjoyed being alone, she could concentrate on her spell work and listen to stories on the radio for as long as she wanted. The radio had been a present for her 18th birthday from her mother and was Lenka’s most prised possession.

Her first lesson of the day was history of witchcraft. Lenka loved it, her teacher, Miss Beauregard managed to make it all sound so fascinating. Lenka could have listened to her for hours. Today though the lesson was interrupted by Headmistress who opened the door and walked in with a girl behind her.

“Everyone”, the headmistress said in her elevated voice, “this is Kiki your new classmate. I trust that you will welcome her amongst your midst and make sure that she will settle in nicely. Oh Lenka,” I looked away from the girl and towards the headmistress, “Kiki will be staying in your room, and will be sitting next to you in class, I trust that you will make sure she has got all she needs and help her with her schedule.”

“Yes, headmistress” I nodded seriously.

The new girl sat down next to me and smiled at me, “hello, I’m Kiki”, she whispered. “I’m Lenka, nice to meet you.” Our teacher gave us a stern look and we spent the rest of the hour sitting very quietly, occasionally looking at each other.

Kiki was a very pretty girl, she had lovely blond hair, tied together in a pony tail, blue eyes and a very friendly laugh.

Over the next few days I made sure that Kiki felt welcome, we spent most of our time together, we discovered that were almost the same age, Kiki was only a few weeks older than me. We also liked the same radio programmes and spent a lot of time in our room listening to stories from all over the world. She didn’t like history of witchcraft as much as I did, she preferred Spell Education. She liked to do active things and it was soon clear that she was a top student in Spell Education.

When it wasn’t raining we spent our days outside, lying in the sun, or we went swimming together. Kiki looked divine in her bathing suit, I had to remind myself not to look to often at her chest. I felt very skinny and flat next to her, but Kiki didn’t seem to mind. She kept holding my hand, pointing somewhere and pulling me after her, there was never a dull moment with Kiki.

We kept tekirdağ escort practicing our spells, Kiki was a natural and she loved trying out the things we learnt in class.

One evening after school, there was a bit of a thunderstorm and we couldn’t listen to the radio.

Instead we both lay on the floor and talked about our favourite teacher. We both liked Miss Bellard best, “she’s so intelligent” I said.

“And so pretty…” Kiki said, “I love her red curls. Do you think she has a boyfriend?”

“Maybe she got a girlfriend.” I said, blushing, Kiki looked at me and we both started to giggle.

We continued to talk about silly things and listened to the rain outside. Now and then we’d shoot sparks out of our fingers that flew into the air and turned into different shapes, animals, objects, we kept trying to outdo each other.

It felt so peaceful, I smiled at her, I was glad the radio wasn’t working tonight. Kiki looked at me and she seemed to feel the same thing. Our hands touched and without thinking, we both cast a spark spell, there was a warm light and on the ceiling appeared two faces moving towards each other and their lips touched before the sparks shimmered down on us.

We both blushed, and laughed nervously. Kiki looked at me and cast a spell that created a red blanket that slowly flew through the room and landed on the lampshade, softly dimming the light. Our hands still touching I cast a spell that turned the ceiling into the night sky and millions of stars illuminated our faces.

“That is beautiful” Kiki said, looking at me, her eyes smiling. “Let me try another spell, don’t move.” She sat up against the bed closed her eyes, I could see the concentration on her face. Suddenly I felt myself floating slowly off the ground. I gasped, but didn’t dare move, I didn’t want to break her concentration. I was only a few inches above ground, she made me float towards her and magically steered me to land in her lap, my back against her.

“That was amazing Kiki. You are so strong, I’m really impressed!” I nuzzled myself more comfortable against her. “I think you’re going to be a great witch Kiki.”

“You think so Lenka? I really hope we both will be great witches and always stay friends.” Her hand squeezed mine and I looked up to her and blushed with happiness.

“Get on the bed, I want to show you a trick!” Kiki suddenly blurted out excitedly. I did as I was told and Kiki did another spell, it got even darker in the room and the sound of bells chimed through the air.

She stood a couple of steps away from me and started to move to the music, it looked magically and dreaming, she looked so sensual in her uniform. Suddenly I noticed that her tie was floating in the air and started to unknot, yet her hands where still dancing in the air, tekirdağ escort bayan moving to the music, she did it all with magic. The tie slowly came off and floated towards me, I caught it and held it tightly. Kiki still had her eyes closed, the buttons on her uniform started to open one after another and without using her hands the blouse slid over her shoulder and onto the floor. I started to blush and changed my sitting position. I had never seen something so sexy. Kiki’s skirt started to slide down her legs and she was dancing in her underwear. She turned around, moving her hands in the air like an enchantress and her little bra started to open and floated away. I swallowed audibly. Kiki placed her arms in front of her chest and turned her head. “Did you like that spell?”

My face must have been the colour of a lobster, all I could do was nod enthusiastically. Kiki smiled and stepped towards me. It was dark but I could still make out the shape and little bits of her body where the light of the stars was shining on her skin. I hoped she couldn’t see me blushing, I was so excited. She placed her hand on my cheek and guided me to her belly button.

“Would you like to kiss it?”, Kiki whispered so quietly I wasn’t sure if I heard her or just imagined it.

Instead of answering her, I placed my lips on the soft skin right next to her belly button. I could feel a little shiver going through her and she giggled. “It tickles, do it again.” I placed another kiss on her tummy and this time Kiki didn’t giggle, it was a different sound. I licked my lips and placed another kiss against her, her skin felt so good. I parted my lips and carefully let the tip of my tongue move up her skin. I could feel the tiny hairs on her, I kissed her again, slightly sucking on her skin. Kiki moaned and ran her hand through my hair.

“Oh Lenka, that feels so… Let me do it to you. Close your eyes and get on the bed.”

I did as I was told and moved back up on the bed, lying on my back, conscious of my breathing, fearing it would give away how excited I was. I felt Kiki climbed over me and slowly unbuttoned my blouse and helped me out of it. She straddled my legs and bent down to kiss my tummy. Her lips were so moist, I felt like a thousand butterflies where flying around inside me. She kept placing little kisses on my tummy. I shivered and moaned as she used her tongue to lick my skin. “Oh Kiki…”

She moved up to me, her finger drawing little circles on my belly. Little sparks of blue light where connecting her finger and my skin. “That feels good doesn’t it?”

“Mhmmm” was all I managed to reply.

“Lenka?” she whispered next to me. “Have you ever been kissed by a girl?”

I could feel the heat shooting into my cheeks. “No… but I would like to be…”

I felt escort tekirdağ her move next to me and then she placed her lips softly onto mine. I thought I had known magic… we parted our lips only to kiss again. And again. Our lips made smacking sounds as they pressed against each other, our bodies started to move together and we held each other, kissing and kissing.

“That feels so good Lenka, your lips taste like cherries.” Kiki muttered between kisses.

“Mmmm and yours like strawberries”, I replied. We giggled and kept kissing. During a longer kiss our lips parted accidentally and the tip of her tongue touched the tip of mine. We both broke off our kiss, surprised by the sensation. “Do it again!” We kissed again and this time our tongues dared to move a bit further. It felt so good! Our tongues kept moving together, hers on mine then mine on hers. I both our bodies heat up as our curious tongues kept exploring each other.

Eventually we stopped and Kiki looked at me. “Do you have that feeling between your legs too Lenka?”

“Mhmmm”, was again all I could manage to say.

“Would you like me to touch you there? To see what it feels like?”

I nodded in the dark, but I was sure she understood. She kissed me again and her hand which was glowing in a sensual red colour moved from my cheek over my shoulder down to my tiny breast, it felt so warm when she touched me and I felt my nipples swell and grow hard, her hand moved down, warming my tummy and then moved over my underwear.

I gasped as she was touching me. Her fingers slowly exploring me through the layer of cotton. “Oh Kiki… it feels… it feels so good!” pressed my thighs against her hand and moved towards her. She kept touching me, moving her hand and I couldn’t believe how good it felt.

“I want to feel it too.” With her other hand Kiki took my arm and guided my hand between her legs and I slowly started to touch her where she was touching me.

“Oooh”, Kicki moaned. “oh that is…”

We stopped talking and just started to move our hands between each others thighs. I hoped she wouldn’t notice that I was getting wet inside my underwear.

“Faster Lenka”, Kiki whispered, “don’t stop, don’t stop”. Our hands where glowing between each others thighs and we started to rub our fingers in slow circles, both moaning and panting until we suddenly felt something completely different, it hit us almost at the same time. A wave of newfound pleasure was flowing through our bodies, we both gasped and looked surprised at each other, breathing heavily, sweating.

“Do you think that was…” Kiki tried to find the right words.

“I think it was!” We giggled and kissed each other. Our bodies felt like they were made for each other. Our curiosity for each other was only just beginning.

Kiki kissed me and whispered “Let’s do it again Lenka, but this time…” her words trailed off as her hand disappeared down into my underwear.

I moaned as her fingers touched me at my most secret spot and I could feel the sparks through her fingers. I arched my back, moaning happily, looking forward to all the discoveries we would make that night.

My name is Bob and I have a big cock. It isn’t like I go waving it around everywhere, but when the time comes, the ladies seem to enjoy it.

I should also say that I love fucking married women. Nothing hotter than pushing my big cock into a cunt that is married, even hotter if she is married and fucking me behind her husband’s back.

Cheating wives are the best, but I also like cheating wives with big tits. Oh, how I love big tits!

So, since I am a shallow human being, I often have to strike up conversations with women I find attractive by getting their attention. Got to start somewhere, right? How else will I ever be able to discover if the lady in question is married, cheats, etc.? The big tits come on is a no-brainer. I also like the ladies with big tits who are proud of their knockers and like the effect those tits have on men.

That said, let me tell you about an adventure I had on a beautiful summer’s day about a year back.

I was driving through a local mall parking lot when I spotted her. Nice piece of ass, say about 5 ft 6, wearing a skirt that came above her knee, heels, and a somewhat tight white blouse that buttoned up the front.

Her tits were making the buttons work overtime to keep them inside the blouse. She was proud of those beauties because the top couple of buttons were undone, giving us all a great look as some impressive cleavage.

As I drove past her, I shouted, “you’ve got great tits.”

I pulled alongside her. She saw that I had stopped and moved to the car. “Yes, yes I do. Thank you,” was her surprise response.

My next line wasn’t the most subtle, but it had worked in the past. “Why don’t we go for a ride, I’m sure we can find a less public place to get to know each other better,” I said?

“Are you talking to me, or them?” she asked, pushing out her chest. “I sort of have to go along with them.”

“Fine with me,” I said, “Now that I can take a further look, your tits are great, and you certainly do them justice.”

She leaned on the side of the car and I got a great view of those luscious tits. Big! Probably DD, showing a lot of cleavage from her sharply pressed white blouse. I wasn’t sure if she was just a hot housewife or a stripper. I’d pay the cover to see her in action.

To my surprise, she opened the door and slid into the seat.

I was a bit taken aback when she got into the car, so I somewhat stammered as I said, “Hello, gorgeous, I’m Bob. Glad to see you in real life, I have been dreaming about you for years.”

A smile formed and she said, “Hello Bob, I’m Sharon, and I have been dealing with men like you for what seems like most of my life.”

Who wouldn’t smile with a line like that, and as I shook her hand my eyes immediately focused on her huge tits? She was proud of them and used to men like me coming on to her. I also noticed that on her left hand was a large engagement ring and the matching wedding band. Jackpot, I thought to myself. Married, in my car, and didn’t shy away from the fact that her tits were what attracted me to her.

We drove off. The top was down, the sun shining and warm.

As I kept driving, I couldn’t help glancing at this chick in my car. My mind was racing ahead, hoping that something would happen. I wanted to have her suck my cock at the very least, or hopefully find someplace where I could fuck her.

As I kept glancing, she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. We drove, she glanced at me, I kept glancing at her tits and the hand that finally undid the button she had been fumbling with. Then another! She was teasing me, but I didn’t care.

One more button and I could finally see that the bra she was wearing was sheer and lacy. The bra cupped the fullness of her tits and presented them beautifully.

She caught me looking. “You said you liked my tits. Do you want to see more?” she asked.

“Hell yeah,” I said.

She unbuttoned the final few buttons until her blouse was completely open. She enjoyed teasing and I was enjoying being teased. My cock started to stir from arousal and anticipation.

The road was a bit curvy and my concentration wasn’t on driving, When I ran off the shoulder and had to sharply steer back onto the road, she pulled the blouse closed and said, “We need to find someplace where we can stop. You are too distracted to drive.”

“I know just the place,” I said.

A few minutes later I pulled off Lake Shore boulevard onto a small road that years ago was the old zoo. Zoo road was aptly named because it was about 2 miles long and made a big loop through the old zoo grounds and had, over time, become a very unpopulated area.

I pulled into a flat area and stopped the car.

She looked over at me and said, “This is pretty remote, should I worry about you trying something?”

“Yes, you should,” I smirked in response to her question.

“Then I guess I should have you drive me back to the mall,” she said.

“What’s the hurry? It’s a nice day, the sun is warm. Let’s stay a while and chat,” I said.

“Well, uşak escort if we are chatting, let me button this backup, to keep from distracting you,” she said.

“No, what’s the hurry. I love what you did earlier. Very exciting. You have a gorgeous set of tits,” I said.

She slowly opened her blouse. “I was right,” I said, ‘you do have great tits.” “Could I convince you to show me more?”

She slid the blouse off and threw it at me.

My dreams for the day had come true. Sitting across from me in the front seat of my car was a gorgeous married woman. Her blouse was now thrown into the back seat of the car, her full DD tits barely covered by a lacy sheer bra. The bra was sheer so her quarter-sized areolas were visible as were her hard nipples. The married lady was aroused.

All I could say was, “Beautiful, simply beautiful.”

I was hoping that her hard nipples were a sign of her arousal and my response to her bold actions, coupled with my sexual banter. When you start off a conversation with a woman by talking about their tits, you can either get slapped or it might end with one, or both, of you coming.

Moments later she got up on her knees on the seat of the car. She leaned over and moved closer to me. Her tits were about to spill out of her bra, and I felt her tits being pushed into my face. Instinctively, I moved my hands up to cup her tits as she slightly pulled back from my face. The clasp for the bra was in the front, which I found with one of my hands. It quickly unclasped and the bra slipped open and slid off the fullness of her breasts.

My hands cupped her tits. They were full, round, and firm. Her hard nipples pressed against the palm of my hands. “More than a handful, even for my hands,” I said. “I love big tits like yours.”

She slid away and sat leaning back against the car door. “OK, you’ve seen them,” she said, “let’s head back to the mall.”

“No, no, wait,” I said as she reached for her bra. “Can’t we just sit awhile? Tits like yours are something to admire and enjoy.”

She put the bra down and said, “So, your plan is that I’m going to sit here with my tits out for you to ‘admire and enjoy.'”

Boldness often works in times like these so I said, “Well, we could always fuck.”

“Well, are you Mister confident?” she said. “Just because I got in your car after your rude remark and my teasing went a little further than I had planned, doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you.”

“Why not?” I said, “It will be something we both will never forget.” “I’ve got a big cock and am a pretty good fuck.”

“If you do say so yourself,” she replied sharply.

“No, really, my dick is very big,” I said.

“And I should believe that because?” she said.

I unbuckled my belt and started to pull my zipper down, “Because it’s true. Take a look,” I said.

I slid my pants down enough to pull it out. Most women are taken aback at the sight of my uncircumcised cock. I wasn’t fully erect, so my foreskin still covered most of the head of my cock.

She had an interesting look on her face, she seemed to be intrigued by the possibilities the day was presenting. “Very nice, Bob,” she said, “but is that as big as it gets?”

“I could say the same about your tits,” I said. “But, if you want it bigger, I might suggest some encouragement on your part.”

“And what sort of encouragement would you suggest?” she asked.

“It has always responded rapidly to oral stimulation,” I replied.

Without any additional encouragement, she moved toward my cock. As she got closer, she looked up at me, opened her mouth, and wrapped her lips around the head of my cock. My body tensed with pleasure as her lips engulfed my dick. I moaned as her hand grasped the shaft of my cock and she quickly took most of the length of my cock into her mouth.

She was also a skilled cocksucker and it wasn’t long before my cock became fully erect from her skills. She sucked me eagerly. Over and over, she took my now erect cock completely into her mouth, all the way down to my balls. Her hands cupped and squeezed my balls as her throat caressed the shaft of my cock.

As quickly as she began, she stopped and let my glistening cock slip from her mouth.

“Don’t stop,” I protested. “It feels so fucking good.”

I looked up to see her move to a kneeling position on the car seat. She quickly unzipped her skirt and started to slide it off. My eyes darted from her beautiful tits to her skirt sliding off. Under the skirt was only a sheer lacy thong that matched her bra.

She then quickly moved across the car, placing her knees on either side of my legs. She reached down between her legs to move my cock to a position where she could rub her cunt against my cock.

I could feel her aroused cunt lips against my cock as she ground her pussy against my hard cock. She placed her hands on the back of the car seat and pushed her tits against my face. I moved my hands cupping the beautiful fullness of her tits and licked her hard nipples uşak escort bayan with my tongue.

She let out a soft moan as my tongue pleasured her hard nipples. Her pussy was grinding against my cock, only the thin material of her thong preventing me from slipping into her.

She pushed back away from my face and lowered herself to kiss me passionately. My tongue probed her mouth. She was breathing heavily from excitement.

I prayed that it would continue. I had found another wife that I might be deep inside of soon and I was loving it.

She kept grinding her cunt against my engorged cock eagerly. I don’t know if she realized it but I could feel the thin material covering her hot cunt was shifting. It moved as she ground against my cock until I suddenly could feel the moistness of her eager cunt gliding over my shaft.

“God, your cock is hot and hard,” she said. “It feels so fucking good.”

With each glide of her cunt, my cock came closer and closer to entering her. I didn’t know if she was aware that I could penetrate her soon, or if she was in complete control and only teasing me.

She kept grinding and I kept moving until finally, the head of my cock slipped into her.

Her cunt was on fire! Hot, wet, and tight. Did I also mention that her cunt was completely shaved? Smooth. Not even a small landing strip, she was completely shaved.

Her excitement covered her pussy and my cock with her oozing lubrication. I pushed to get more inside her tight, married cunt, but she moved and my cock slipped out.

We kept doing this little cock teasing dance for several minutes. I slid partway in and her moving away so it slipped out.

She was so involved with her little game that she didn’t notice or hear a car slowly approaching. I think she was only aware of it as they actually pulled alongside of my car.

The guy in the car was watching and smiling. She sat up and arched her back, giving our voyeur friend a great view of her tits.

I said, “we are being watched.”

“I like being watched,” was all she said.

I looked over at the guy in the car and said, “You’re not a cop are you?”

“Nope, just a guy who likes to watch people fuck,” he replied.

“You’ll have to wait,” I said, “she’s just giving me a lap dance.”

“That’s OK, I love watching her move. God, those tits are incredible! Your wife is beautiful,” he said.”

“Yea, she is, but she isn’t my wife,” I replied.

“Whoever she is, she has great tits,” he replied.

I smiled up at Sharon and she smiled back.

“OK, enjoy,” I said.

She pushed her big tits against my face again and we continued our little game of her grinding against my cock and me working hard to get it into her pussy.

We continued for about 5 more minutes until suddenly she stopped grinding. Looking me in the eyes, she said, “Bob, do you have any condoms?”

I was taken aback by her question but nodded that I was prepared.

She moved quickly back to the passenger seat. I was sitting there, my pants down around my ankles, my cock hard and covered with this chick’s cunt juice.

“God, your cock is so hard and beautiful,” she said. “We need more space if we are going to fuck. Do you have a blanket?”

Hot damn!

Quickly I opened the door and moved to the trunk. I slipped my pants off moving to the rear of the car. Once I had the blanket, I spread it out near the car. I moved to the door and opened it for her, offering her my hand to help her out of the car.

This chick was naked wearing only a thong and I am helping her out of the car and moving her to the blanket. As she laid down on the blanket, she slowly opened her legs, pulled the small thong away from her pussy to give me the full view of her excited, small, shaved cunt. Just the sight of it sent a tingle through the entire length of my cock.

I felt a bit ridiculous standing over her wearing only my shoes and my shirt. The guy in his car was paying no attention to me. With Sharon nude on the blanket who would?

“Are you going to get undressed, or stand there and admire and enjoy the view,” she asked?

“Now you can watch us fuck,” I said to the first guy, who didn’t say a word but smiled.

“Let me help you with the thong,” I said gallantly. I reached for it to slide it over her hips and ass, but I didn’t realize how fragile it was and it broke.

If she had planned on just showing me her tits, and leaving me wanting, it didn’t work out. She seemed eager to enjoy my talents as a lover of married women.

Laying on her back on the blanket, nude, with one guy watching, and my big uncircumcised cock eager to fuck her shaved pussy, she wasn’t giving off a prim married woman vibe.

But who cares, I was about to fuck her. I wasn’t going to pull out, she was going to get the entire load deeply deposited within her cunt.

I moved in close. Sharon was on her back, knees up, legs spread. I slowly pushed the head against her warm, moist vagina. I held it in escort uşak my hand and glided it up and down slowly against her cunt lips. She moaned softly as I teased her cunt with the head of my cock.

Ready for penetration, I put my other hand on her belly and began gliding my cock into her.

“Hold on, Bob, I don’t believe that you have a condom on that cock,” she said boldly.

“Really,” I asked? “Do I need to put one on? We both want this to continue, so why stop now?”

She looked up at me and said, “I want your cock in me, Bob. I want to feel it deep inside me, but I don’t know your name, so I guess I can’t take any chances.”

Reluctantly I moved back and fumbled for my pants to find the condom. “It isn’t lubricated,” I said, “Is that a problem?”

She smiled at me and slowly spread her legs and ran her fingers through the moist folds of her labia, “You tell me,” Is all she said.

Quickly, I opened the wrapper and rolled it down over my cock. Like most condoms I buy, even this Magnum condom only covered about two-thirds of the length of my shaft.

“I liked the way you started before,” she said.

So, always eager to please, I held my cock in my hand and rubbed the head slowly up and down over the lips of her cunt. I also placed my other hand on her belly. She lifted her hips slightly as the head of my cock slid into her pussy.

It was fucking amazing, even with the condom her cunt felt tight and hot. My dick slid slowly into her moist pussy. I pushed slowly into her, savoring every sensation and the look on her face as I penetrated some guy’s wife’s pussy.

Her cunt was very elastic and took all of my long, thick cock easily. The look on her face showed me that she was wanting this and was not disappointed.

“Oh, God, you are so big,” she said as I continued to completely enter her eager cunt. “Slowly,” she said, “Let me get used to it, it is so big and you are in so deep.”

I was enjoying her tight pussy and let out a moan. “You like it to, I hear,” she said.

“Your cunt is so hot and tight,” I said, “I love fucking shaved pussy.”

I lowered myself onto her, feeling those huge tits pressing against my chest. She lifted her hips allowing me deeper penetration. I pushed myself all the way into her and slowly started to pull out. I pulled almost all the way out of her cunt, leaving only the head inside her.

Slowly, I began to fuck her, she was fabulously tight but took all the cock I had to give her. I enjoyed the way she lifted her hips and how her already tight cunt

clenched at my cock with each thrust. Thinking back on it later, I wasn’t sure if it was for me, or if she was putting on a show for the guys watching.

She was breathing harder and harder, and I felt my cock scraping against her hard clit. If all worked out, I’d make her cum. She won’t forget cheating on her husband with me!

Then things all changed quickly.

“Stop, Bob, stop. Stop,” she said unexpectedly.

“Really,” I said?

“Yes, Bob, you have to stop,” she said.

“Why am I hurting you,” I said?

“No, but you have to stop,” she said.

“But I didn’t cum yet,” I said.

“Stop. Just stop. Don’t make me tell you again,” she said.

I slowly moved off her to a kneeling position that allowed for part of my cock to still be inside her.

“Take it all the way out,” she said.

Reluctantly I complied and moved back so that the head slipped out of her cunt.

Slowly, she reached out her hand and grasped my cock, wrapping it around the shaft. Slowly, she pulled the condom off my dick. She smiled up at me, and I knew exactly what she wanted. No words were spoken but I knew for sure I was going to blow my load into her.

Not needing any encouragement, I slid my cock back into her cunt.

Her cunt was hot and wanting what I was giving her. The moistness of her pussy was like heaven for my cock. If possible, her cunt was even more exciting by her allowing me to go bareback while we fucked.

I eagerly began fucking her harder and harder deeply thrusting my cock deep into her hot, wet cunt. I was quivering with pleasure from the experience of fucking her, and that I wouldn’t last much longer.

I was breathing hard and I knew I was close. I, again and again, pushed myself deep into her. She was a very good fuck, eager to please and be pleased. When I was deep inside her pussy, she would contract her cunt muscles around the shaft of my dick. Never had a woman do that while I was fucking them. “Fuck me, Bob, fuck me,” she screamed.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I yelled out, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

I held her hips tight and pushed my cock as far in as I could get as I shot jet after jet of sperm into her tight cunt. It felt like a huge load and it seems like I just kept coming and coming. God, what a fuck!

My big load must have triggered something inside her and her body spasmed violently as she started coming. Her cunt clenched tightly around my spurting cock heightening the pleasure for me. I assume that it heightened hers as well, but I really didn’t care. When we were fucking, the last thing on my mind was making her cum.

I was so aroused by the experience of fucking this chick with the big tits and the tight cunt, that even after I came in her I was still rock hard.

I hope you can see a pattern here: To the extent that I can make the women I’m with happy, then I am happier, too. That is not to say that I am entirely selfless or altruistic–Let’s face it, we’re talking about SEX here. But, if all I wanted to do is have an orgasm, I would have plenty of avenues to do so, with or without a partner. No. I love women; they are intriguing, fascinating, and delicious. But….every guy is entitled to a “clinker”, or two.

Let me tell you about Zeta. She is pushing 40, is a substantial 5′ 6″ (1.7m) 130lbs(59kg), 36D, highly talented woman of Eastern European heritage. Was born in Europe, was educated there, speaks four languages, and worked her way up the ladder in live theater to eventually become a stage manager. The key word here is “Manager”. Her career revolved around, essentially, telling people what to do and when to do it; and, if they don’t, the quality of the production diminishes or fails altogether. Believe me, nobody wants to suffer the wrath of Zeta for fucking up anything!

But apart from her being driven professionally, Zeta could be immensely charming…and sexy! Her range of knowledge was broad. The arts, of course, were her staple, as one might expect but she had a thorough understanding of history and politics–focused on European history, certainly, but world history as well. She was what one might call a raconteur; by virtue of her many years in the performing arts she had a wealth of stories about actors, playwrights, directors, and others that she shared at the drop of hat. She commanded attention…literally!

I was invited by Karen to attend the local premiere live performance of a particularly popular musical. (Karen? I may tell you about her later.) Karen knew one or two of the performers, women in the chorus, and I went along with her backstage to visit them. Before the performance, everyone is too busy and stressed to make visiting realistic, but Karen wanted to at least wish them luck–in theater parlance, to “break a leg”. I was standing aside while Karen talked to the two women when a voice boomed at me.

“Who are you two and WHAT are you DOING on MY stage?” It was Zeta “managing”.

At that moment, Karen turned around from her conversation with her friends and faced the booming voiced Zeta.

“Zeta! How good to see you,” said Karen with a charming smile, “you recognize me, I’m sure. I trust you weren’t objecting to my presence here.”

What I didn’t know but found out right there was that Karen, being a moneyed person, was a patron of this theater group. She was involved in the organization that put on the productions, including selecting the…yes…the stage manager. In other words, Karen had some pull.

Zeta pulled in her horns somewhat, and said, “Oh, Karen! I didn’t see you there. I certainly wasn’t directing my displeasure at you. You are certainly welcome anytime backstage. It was that male creature there I intended to question.”

“I can understand your concern, Zeta,” Karen continued, her charm now somewhat forced, “that ‘male creature’, as you put it, is my guest, Drummond. I invited him back here to see a little backstage prep for the show.”

“Oh, I see, Karen, my mistake,” said Zeta, deferentially, “I didn’t think he belonged here, especially ogling the chorus women. I have to watch everything, you know.”

“I can vouch for him, Zeta…he’s harmless, ” said Karen with a sly smile, “but, please Zeta, meet my friend Drummond.”

I extended my hand to Zeta who declined to shake it. I found out later that her European sense of etiquette made a woman shaking hands with a man inappropriate, especially on a first meeting. A woman offering her hand to a man, on the other hand–so to speak–was acceptable. It was all about form and propriety for her.

Zeta eyed me up and down, gave a little sniff, and said, “Yes, well Mr. Drummond, as friend of Karen’s you are, of course, welcome back here when you are with her. I trust you won’t take offense at my impoliteness.”

I sensed that Zeta was being too stiff, too formal. This may have been because Karen was there, whom she depended on for her job; or, it may have been that she was suppressing some feelings that I couldn’t identify at the time. No matter, though, I wasn’t going to let her ruin my date with Karen or my enjoyment of the production.

The performance was a rousing success, bouquets thrown on the stage for the principal performers, multiple curtain calls. Reviews hit the internet instantaneously, not like the “Good Old Days” when everyone had to wait for the morning newspapers. And, trust me, everyone who was anyone connected with the production had read them before the after-the-show party commenced.

At the party, Zeta was in high spirits. Being three or four cognacs in didn’t hurt her ebullience either. It turns out that Zeta was such a talent at her craft that playwrights, producers, and even directors often deferred to her in terms of the actual performances. She was the equivalent of a Field General; she made the wheels turn, in sync, and on time. Yes, a VIP, unquestionably.

“Ah, urfa escort Mr. Drummond!” Zeta addressed me at the party, “you enjoyed the performances tonight? I trust my behavior didn’t tarnish your enjoyment.”

I could tell Zeta was “fortified” and headed for being just plain old drunk but, being with Karen, I didn’t want to brace her on it, or anything else. I smiled and nodded.

“Oh, come, come, Mr. Drummond,” she said as she put her arm on my shoulder, “there’s no reason to pout. I like you, Mr. Drummond…I do…despite…well…no…not despite….what’s the right word….despite…yes…despite you being something of a cretin…still…there is something about you…I…well..yes…like.”

“You flatter me, Zeta,” I said forcing myself to not cut loose on her, “you are too kind!”

“Well, I apologize, Mr. Drummond,” Zeta continued her native accent more pronounced, “if I have said anything to insult you…well, I apologize…yes…and let me make it up to you… Please come to my office…yes to my office…to see me…yes see me…I will give you…give you a tour…a look at… yes a tour…of our production back stage…I want to…well…make out…I mean make up…for my unforgiveable…behavior. I hope you will…come…”

Karen and I glanced at each other and simultaneously shook our heads. It was clear that Zeta was well on her way to, if not passing out, dozing off. We gave our farewells and headed off.

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In the morning, Saturday, Karen’s cell phone buzzing woke me up. (I said Karen is another story…be patient.) I could see the display showed “Zeta”. It woke Karen too; she reached over and answered the call. Of course, I could only hear one side of the conversation but Karen managed to give me a hint at what Zeta was saying.

Karen: Hello, Zeta. Well, yes, it was a grand triumph. I think you outdid yourself.

(In more ways than one, I thought)

Karen: Oh, the party? Yes, that was quite a time too. Drummond and I enjoyed it immensely.

(If seeing Zeta drunk and sloppy was enjoyable, then I had to agree with Karen)

Karen: Drummond….yes, just a friend…No, you did apologize to him…more than once…yes.

(Something tells me Zeta’s memory was a little fuzzy…Imaging THAT!)

Karen: Do I have his number? Well…yes I do… but I don’t think that will be necessary…no your apologies were ample and sincere….yes…yes…I have no doubt you made your point.

(All the while I was shaking my head “NO” a) to Karen giving Zeta my number, and b) emphatically “NO” to Karen giving Zeta my number)

Karen: I’m not exactly sure what you are asking, Zeta…did you do what?…..NO! I am absolutely certain you didn’t do that…or anything like that…No, no! you didn’t tell him you wanted to do THAT! Trust me!

(Karen looked at me and gave me a pantomime of a blowjob with her hand circling a phantom penis, while bobbing her head. She nearly laughed out loud and I had to suppress my laughter as well.)

Karen: That’s O.K., Zeta…yes…no….well I don’t know…perhaps…yes,….if I talk to him….yes…I will tell him…I’ll give him your number….yes..that’s right… yes…I hope you’re feeling better, Zeta.. yes…good bye.

Karen explained the last part of the call to me, saying, “Oh, Drummond! I’m afraid Zeta was a little too drunk last night. She doesn’t remember a whole lot, though she does vaguely remember her apologies, plural. She didn’t mention anything about offering you a backstage tour. She did say, that she was afraid that she might have told you that she wanted to give you a blowjob just to make it up to you! Isn’t that hysterical? Anyway, you heard most of it. Oh, and I’m supposed to apologize to you again for her, the next time I see you.”

Karen put her cell phone down, pulled back the sheets and proceeded to give me a fantastic blow job–blowjobs are all fantastic, so…a blowjob.

After she finished, she looked at me and said, “That’s from Zeta…she apologizes!”

We both laughed ourselves silly!

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As blustery as Zeta could be, nobody could ever accuse her of not being smart and resourceful. She did a little research, more on Karen than me, and discovered that I was a “family friend” of Karen and her husband. (That’s true and…well…there’s more to be told about Karen and me.) The point is that Zeta, having identified me, easily found my phone number…hence the following call, in the morning a few days later.

My cell buzzed but I didn’t answer it as there was no name attached to the caller. It was an out of state prefix so I concluded that it was a spam call of some sort. Then my cell “pinged” telling me I had a text. I went there and found this:

“Hope I have the right number for Drummond. Pls call me at this number Zeta.”

I would not allow myself to behave like the cretin she accused me of being, so I called her back directly.

“Hello, Zeta?” I began, “Drummond urfa escort bayan here, calling you back. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Mr. Drummond, I am so happy you returned my call,” Zeta sounded all smiles, ” you have been on my mind and I just wanted to apologize again for my beastly behavior the other night. It was inexcusable, and I am so sorry.”

“Well, Zeta, thank you,” I kept my voice even, “but you were abundantly apologetic at the party after the show. I thank you, though, for your continuous outpouring of remorse but…believe me…it isn’t necessary. All is forgiven!”

“Yes, yes, yes, and thank you,” she pressed on, “but I remember now that I said that I would give you a tour of the theater…not just as a token of my contrition…but to get acquainted, you know. “

She sounded so contrite that I didn’t have the hard to turn her down flat even secretly knowing what might be in her mind. I thought, “What’s the harm, anyway?”

“Well, Zeta, that is very kind of you. When would you like to do this?” I said in a friendly way.

“Today, if you have the time. The theater is dark today getting ready for the weekend’s performances. So this would be an ideal time to show you around. If you’d like.”

I hesitated but decided now is good a time as ever, “I’m wrapping up my morning’s work. I should be free around 4:00PM. How about I meet you at the playhouse then? Sound good?”

“Marvelous, Mr. Drummond. I’ll see you there, then.”

I had to throw this in, “Oh, and Zeta, ‘Drummond’ is my first name. It’s not Mister Drummond, just plain Drummond. See you at 4:00PM”

She responded, “Oh! I’m so sorry. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you. 4:00PM, then…BYE!”

She knew my first name was Drummond…she had looked it up! Funny woman, this Zeta.

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“Oh, Mr….I mean Drummond, I am so glad you could make it today. I have so much to show you!” she said as she, etiquette notwithstanding, actually grabbed my hand to lead me into the building.

“I expect the ‘grand tour’ that you offered, of course!” I said, nettling her a little bit, “I’m sure if anyone can give it to me, you’re the person.”

A whole lot goes on in a theater before and after a performance but the most exciting time is during the performance. There is a whole team of stagehands, lighting personnel, sound experts (most of the performances are “miked” today”) and they are constantly in motion during a show. Scenery changes, make-up touch-ups, prompter updates (they are “miked” now too–the actors have ear pieces). It is a flurry of activity even when the action on the stage is static.

The stage manager works out of a control room that looks like a small version of a space launch. All of the people have headsets on, the lighting guy, the scenery guy, the sound guy; and they are in voice contact with the actual technicians. There are several closed circuit TV screens showing the different venues within the theater.

During a performance, the stage manager keeps an eye on the TV monitors and gives commands left and right. Timing is crucial. It takes a lot of effort and I can see where Zeta would want to “unwind” after any performance, let alone a premier the likes of which I had attended.

Zeta and I were standing in the vacant control room as she explained all of the goings-on to me. I was nodding with understanding appreciation. She was about to show me the computer and display where all of the “blocking” diagrams were stored. As she gestured, her pen flew out of her hand and clattered off into space and landed probably on the floor somewhere under one of the desks.

“Oh, dear,” she said, “that’s an expensive pen. I need to find it. Here, help me look!”

So, “we” started a search. I looked high and she looked low. She was wearing blue jeans, and a pull-over sport jersey. I was dressed approximately the same, except for the jersey–sport shirts were my style. As looked high, I couldn’t help but see her searching low on her hands and knees. Her blue jeans stretched as they fitted themselves over her nicely shaped, though a tad large, fanny. At point I could see right down the neck of her loose fitting jersey; two boobs and no bra is what I saw–two 36D boobs, I might add.

I was sitting on the edge of a desk, having searched the pigeon holes for the pen, and Zeta had just gotten herself out from under a desk and was resting on her knees. I felt her eyes inspecting my crotch.

“Drummond!” she exclaimed softly, “pardon me for mentioning it but…well.. you fly is open!”

I looked down and sure enough, my zipper on my blue jeans had opened about half way. Before I could do anything about it, Zeta chimed in,

“So, the question is, Drummond,” she said with her eyes still fixated on my fly, ” shall I zip it ‘UP’ or shall I zip it ‘DOWN’? What do you think, Drummond”

Her fingers had already gone to the tab on my zipper and pulled it down an inch and then pulled it back up an inch. She repeated this two or three times, during which my penis escort urfa was beginning to react–there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

“So…up? Or, Down?” Zeta repeated, “UP? DOWN?…..UP? DOWN? I think DOWN is best, don’t you Drummond?”

So, down my zipper went and simultaneously Zeta’s other hand unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned the top button on my blue jeans. She used to both hands to tug my jeans and my shorts down over my hips down as far as my knees. She didn’t bother with getting them any farther down because she had already started to pay attention to my cock.

Using one hand to massage my cock and the other to massage my scrotum, she gently blew on both. I felt the breeze of her breath rustle my pubic hair as it wafted over my cock and balls. Her hands were warm which added to the sensuality of her massage. A little cool breath, a little warm hands–the contrast was indeed stimulating. She leaned forward and gave the shaft of my penis a series of nipping kisses working her way down to the head. It turned into a moving target as I erection bloomed. Before long she was looking at my fully erect cock.

“If we’re going to do this, Drummond, we should do it right, don’t you think?” Zeta purred.

With that, she pulled my jeans all of the way off me, pausing only to slip my cross-trainers off my feet so she could get my jeans all the way off. To balance things off, she also removed her jersey–as I suspected, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Seeing this 40ish woman’s D-Cup breasts was an enlightening experience, to say the least. Now I know a little from breasts and these two “puppies” where not the boobs of a 40 year-old woman. A 30 year-old woman? Maybe. But a 25 year-old would be more like it. They were firm and very little droop or sag…naturally there was some but, Sheesh!, I’ve never seen breasts that large not hang at least a little. Her areolas were on the large side, probably 2″(5cm) and her nipples were not prominent…yet. They made my mouth water and my dick hard…harder, that is!

“Well, Zeta, if you really mean right, then….” I followed up on her statement.

I stood her up, unbuttoned and pulled her jeans too. They fit her a lot tighter that mine did me but the struggle was worth it. Her thong came off along with her jeans to reveal a lush pubic bush made of curly, tawny hair. Her pubic crease was totally indiscernible, that’s how thick it was. Her body was relatively trim–a little “pooch “here, a little padding there–but in remarkably good shape, again, for a 40ish woman.

Zeta had my shirt of in no time at all and we stood there naked looking at…actually admiring…each other.

I think we had the same thought at the same time, “If we are going to get serious and fuck each other, where are we going to do it? On the hard control room floor? Not hardly!”

I saw the light go on in Zeta’s eyes. She held up a finger in a “ssshhh” sign, opened the control room door, looked around, and dashed out. Seconds later she dashed back in with a couple of large pieces of thick foam padding. She threw them on the floor.

“Voila’, problem solved!” she crowed, “our stunt people have this stuff lying around all over the place. Nobody wants a stage fall to turn into a real fall…so….Oh, and don’t worry, the theater is empty now…I made sure of that!”

I’m not sure if she meant that she checked quickly and saw that the theater was empty or, if she somehow arranged for the theater to be empty now. One guess was as good as the other but, as I learned more about Zeta, I suspect the latter was the more likely situation.

With the foam on the floor making an unusually comfortable bed, Zeta and I got down to business. Her original intentions, I suspect, were just to give me a blow job and follow through with the rest all in good time. I think I turned the tables on her, though. That isn’t to say that she was displeased; she was just disconcerted that her plan had to be modified.

Well, modify that plan I did. Bypassing the kissing stages, I plopped Ms. Zeta on her back on the improvised mattress. She fell giggling…actually giggling…with her legs conveniently apart. I never miss an opportunity like this one, so I proceeded straightaway to cunnilingus. Ms. Zeta expressed no objection. On the contrary, once my face was in her crotch, she–like DD–pressed her hands to the back of my head increasing the pressure of my mouth on her snatch.

It was a harder to maneuver through her thick pubic hair but I managed, with the help of my fingers, to identify and expose the lips of her vagina. Those lips were rather large and pendulous, something that was not evident on first inspection. I was thinking that perhaps that was why Zeta sported such a full bush. Well, that is neither here nor there when it came to servicing said pussy. Once the thicket was parted, I had an clear field of action.

Thick pussy lips and a large vaginal opening, those gave me some challenges but nothing I couldn’t overcome. Her vagina was moist but not wet, her clitoris, while small, was hiding under a rather large hood–another challenge but, again, not insurmountable. I decided to go straight for her clit, a wise choice it turned out to be. I found that she had a hyper-sensitive clitoris. My mere breath send spasms through her so I took more care in my incremental teasing of it. It took time and care.