by CELENE CAREY
“I . . . I’m doing fine hun, ahh, how was your day?” I asked with my eyes lowered.
He walked over to me and I dropped my cell on the bed
“Today was the usual, I’m a bit tired.” He hugged me tightly and smiled. It still doesn’t smell like his cologne to me… or maybe it is, I kind of recognize the smell, it’s faintly familiar but it ain’t.
My hands remained by my side, I didn’t him hug back. He squeezed me into him and then pulled me away and searched into my eyes.
“What’s up with you?” He interrogated, “You seem off, what was that call about?”
I looked to the cell on the bed.
“It was nothing. It was just Jessie.”
“Jessie? Who’s Jessie?”
Oh damn. Why was it that her name was the first lie I could make as an excuse?
“Jessie from work.”
“Ohh, I thought you were referring to a guy, you mean Jessica, the new chick?”
“Yeah, that Jessie.”
“So, what was it about?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what was the call about? It’s a Saturday, why would she be calling you and why would you need to call her back. Your face looked a bit worried while you were taking the call.”
This guy had to be a lawyer. I was terrible at lying, but I was not going to rat on myself.
“Oh its nothing, girl stuff. Relationship issue with her boyfriend,” I quickly lied.
“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah. She thinks her boyfriend may be cheating. What a bastard!”
“That’s odd,” Paul said slowly in thought.
“What’s odd?”
“That. Her boyfriend.”
“Why is her boyfriend odd?”
“She is a butch, isn’t she?”
“A butch?”
“Yeah, a butch, as in a lesbian stud.”
How the hell did Paul figure this?
“What made you think she’s a butch or a lesbian?”
“She only wears pants, she has a wandering eye on the females in the office, and I think she’s into something with Kelly. I might be wrong.”
“You really think she might be a . . . a . . . lesbian?”
“Yeah. I think she has the hots for you too,” he winked and smiled at me.
“Me? Oh no. Not me, I’m not into women.”
He stared at me with a silly smile. Now I was wondering what the hell does he know, if he knows, and just how much?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re not into women or you’re not into cheating?”
“Both. You know I’d never cheat. You wouldn’t either, right?”
“If you were with a woman, I wouldn’t consider it cheating,” He said casually. My breath hitched.
“Huh?”
“I like lesbians. I wish you had a girlfriend.”
“Since when have you wished I had a girlfriend?”
“Ever since I saw you and Tammy kiss at the airport.”
“Hey, hey ... that was just a friendly kiss, it’s nothing like you—”
“I know-I know, but ever since then, I’ve always fantasized about you being with a girl.”
“A girl or a woman?”
“A girl, someone younger than you would be nice.”
“So you do like younger girls,” I said. He stared at me stolidly without a reply.
“I just don’t get it though, Paul. You fantasize about me being with a girl or you fantasize about being with me and a girl?”
“No, not a threesome. You with a girl. Me watching a girl doing you.”
“What the hell? Would that turn you on?”
“It already has,” he said and his hand went to doing a tight stroke on the stiffening crotch of his pants. I acted as if I hadn’t notice a bulge growing.
“What about that would turn you on? I still don’t get it. Really.”
“I want to see you with your legs open, a girl licking on you, sucking on your tits, having your body writhing and squirming under the pleasure of her tongue, you burying your face in her wet juicy young cunt.”
The front of his pants rose pointedly. His eyes darkened with lust. It was the first time in months that I had seen him so ready.
“You didn’t answer the question.” I said.
“What question?”
“Would you cheat on me?”
There was a thick pause.
CHAPTER 2
“I think the question is would you cheat on me?” He said and watched my eyes. My eyes fidgeted and my answer hitched at my throat.
“Ch . . . cheat on you? What kind of a question is that?”
“Would you cheat on me? Yes or No?”
“You were just here telling me your fantasy about me being with another woman, wouldn’t that be cheating?”
“No . . . not if I consented.”
“Mhhm. How interesting, dear.”
“So, have you?”
“Cheated?”
“Yes, have you cheated?”
My face scrunched, showing how appalled I was for his seriousness about such a question.
“Of course not Paul, you know me far better than that. YOU are the one I’m concerned about, you haven’t fucked me in months! What could possibly—”
He charged into me with a hard kiss on my lips, I felt his solid cock pressed into my belly. It felt like smooth steel. I took a swift inhale and loss control of my weight. I was so dying to feel him. Not fucking me, but licking me… but Paul hardly ever dined on me that way. If only he was Jessie, I thought. Oh my God, how good Jessie’s tongue would feel on me right now. I felt a tight tug on my clit. Was it Paul’s kiss, his hard cock against me, or the thought of Jessie’s face between my legs that had turned me on?
“Pa . . . Paul,” I said in a ragged breath and with weak half-closed eyes.
“Yes dear?”
“I want you to eat me. Eat me like you’ve never done before.”
Hidden in the dark shadow of my mind, all I wanted was for him to eat me so I could imagine it was Jessie.
“Hun, you know what? Let’s go to bed . . .”
He walked off, my hand in his hauling me with him. I held my weight grounded to standing by the dresser mirror, not moving.
“Paul, what’s happening between us? I thought tonight would be different. You promised.”
“Honey, quit it please, I’m really tired. I’mma retire, you can stand there all night if you wish.”
I stood there even more appalled by his actions than his question. I watched him slip under the covers with disregard for my yearning. I felt like storming out the room and heading out to see Jessica. I sighed and tried to calm myself down.
It was more than twenty minutes before I went to bed and I made sure I stayed on my side and made no contact with him.
CHAPTER 3
Later that night my panties weren’t wet; they were visibly soaked at the crotch. My eyes were closed and miniscule beads of sweat sprouted through the tiny pores of my forehead. I had been sweating long enough that now the tiny balls swelled into fatter globes of lightly salty water and dribbled down the outer edge of my brows. I was sleeping and dreaming. But was it a dream or a nightmare?
Behind my closed eyes, it was me and Jessie in the white computer room of the office. The air outside in the city was congested with the noisy sound of a young baby crying, motorcars buzzing by on the nearby main road, horns honking, and the clashing blast of many radio stations’ music. Somewhere in the distance was the sound of hammer slapping in wood, maybe constructing something, fixing something?
I had on a very thin white blouse in the dream and my pink nipples visibly pitched stiff twin tents through it. Naked legs, no shorts, just panties. Thin, black, sheer fabric. A black fabric so barely-there that you could see that beneath I was baldly shaven, clean. Hints of her skin color where my sweet mound rose up high and fat teased through my soft panties.
In Jessie’s hand
she had the elastic waist drawn off my hip towards her face. I was standing and my ass was leaned on the computer desk. My cheeks squeezed against the cool wooden desk and broadened my hips sexily. Jessie’s face was in front of my pussy; she was kneeling between my legs. My legs invitingly opened wide to let her fit her feminine shoulder and head between into my intimate space, her tongue into my pussy. I was so wet she’d be wasting her time to lick me; she needed to slurp my juices. She looked at my clit and her tongue was salivating heavily.
She let go of my waist and looked up at me like an enthusiastic kid who had just discovered something for the first time and said, “I had no idea how short your slit down there is.”
I smiled as she continued, “Your pussy is so sexy and plump and pretty. Oh God, your pussy is so pretty.” Her mouth formed an ‘O,’ still enthusiastic about the shortness of my slit.
I poked a single finger into that “O” of her mouth.
“Shhh. Don’t speak,” I said “until you eat my pussy.” I pulled my finger out of her now-quiet mouth.
“Don’t stop eating my pussy until you burp. Eat me like you’ve never ate another woman before.”
She looked up into my eyes as I went on, “Eat me like its life. Like a greedy little fat kid eating cake. You’re greedy and my pussy is your cake. Stuff your face. Have a fill. Have a ball eating your plate clean. You understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” my little pet answered, shaking her obedient head. The baby stopped crying outside and the noise level seemed to have drastically lowered with the absence of just the crying.
Then Jessie went quiet too. She noticed the thin film of moisture that had seeped through my panties as I barked her commands. It was layered on the outside of the sheer material I wore over my pussy. She pulled my pantywaist forward and away from my belly again and I felt the soft elastic material stretching and tensioned at my hipbones. Sticky stringy webs attached to the inside of my panties. The thin creamy strings connected from the inner facing of my panties to the plump surface of my cleanly-shaved mound.
Jessie’s puppy-eyes looked up again, “Do you want me to eat all of that now, ma’am?” She went into an obedient slave character.
“Are you questioning me?” I asked
“Oh no, ma’am. I wouldn’t.”
I yanked into her hair.
“Are you mocking meeee?” I snarled as I yanked and showed my teeth. “Do you want me to spank you little girlllll?”
“Yes ma’am, yes.”
“Then I won’t!”
I rammed her face hard onto my creamy, sodden panties. My essence smelled heavenly and she nuzzled into it. A round, creamy spot transferred from my soaked panties onto the point of her nose.
“Take my panties off!”
“Yes, ma’am.” She obeyed and went to pulling my panties down.
“Not like that girllll!”
She looked up at my stern face. She was timid and confused.
“With your TEETH!” I barked.
“Okay, kay,” she said with unquestioning obedience.
I felt a sudden spastic pinch inside my pussy as she obeyed my sexual commands. I tried to keep a stern face and was fighting not give away any signs of the sweet twitching sensation that was throbbing rampantly below my navel. But for the love of God, my pussy would not stop twitching. Twitching tightly, sweetly. It felt so fucking good, boggling my senses. I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowed slowly, trying to quell the fire in my pussy. Calm my heat. That’s when my pussy decided to paint along my thigh with my juice. It painted a single line; it was short and it seeped from the tight elastic leg of the black sheer material that I wore.
I tried to act as if the fine trickle of juice dripping down my thigh wasn’t there. Tried to keep my knees from wobbling, hardened my stare and said, “What’s that you say?”
I snarled at her with a reprimanding wink, narrowing only one eye and crimpling my forehead. She knew she should never address me without referring to me by my title.
“Sorry, ma’am. Sorry.”
Her teeth smoothly slid down between the meat of my hipbone and the waist of my panties. She closed her teeth together against my skin to get a grip at the waist. Her teeth were hard and cool and smooth and… ohhh, so titillating. The tingly sensation reminiscent of the first time ever having her mouth down south on me made my body shiver. I strained to keep my knees straight. It didn’t work.
She noticed how pliable my knees went when she grazed against my hipbone with her teeth. I could tell that she liked it. She sexily bit on the tender baby flesh around my hipbone, caressing my aroused flesh with the edge of her teeth. I struggled to keep my pussy in order but it was uncontrollable, bad-behaving, and flooding. Another sudden flowing outburst of juice from my pussy flooding into the juice that already lingered on me caused the second drip to drizzle down from me. It formed a second wet running line down my thigh. My mouth hung open and my lips went slack; my lower lip trembled. Fuck, her lesbian mouth felt good on my body. And her long thick tongue wasn’t even in my pussy yet. I hoped I wouldn’t die. If I did, it was worth it.
A dream or a nightmare?
CHAPTER 4
I peaked with arousal, totally focused on sex and the sweet pleasure that hummed beneath my skin at her every touch. My sexual energies and spirit transcended to their highest heights; my sexual senses sharpened but everything else in the world was nonsense and irrelevant. The only thing that mattered right now was her: her tongue, her fingers, the touches, the kisses, the licks, the bites, the sucks, the feeling, the fucking, the wetness, my pussy, the pleasure. All the irrelevant sounds of the outside world faded to a dull blur, and inside my ears my heart thudded too loudly against my eardrums.
Between my legs grew so sensitive that I could feel the difference between her body’s heat and the room’s warmth. I felt when her face was away from my pelvis and when it was close. Her body radiated a soft euphoric heat. A heat that lovers share with each other. A heat that felt so intimate, so personal, so close, and so fucking erotic. A soft bliss climbed in my belly just from knowing that the lovers’ heat I felt wasn’t against my feet, or belly, or face. It was felt lower, close to my pussy, so close to my pussy. It made me even wetter knowing the soft heat on my pussy was coming from her face.
I had never known that sensing someone’s heat could make me so wet. Just the mere heat, no touch. Her mouth went up. My pussy cried as she rubbed her warm cheek on my hipbone. I felt my bones vibrating against her jaw, rapt with horniness. My legs rattled. My belly began to sweat lightly. As she pulled her face away, I sensed the distance, a barrage of unwanted cooler room air washed up between my pussy and her face. I wanted her face in my groin, my pussy in her mouth, her tongue between my pussy lips, far up in my hole. My hips strained forward at her tongue. Her face went back down. I felt the heat closer against my pussy, almost touching it as she stretched her tongue out and licked the thin sheet of sweat off my belly, slowly, patiently, one slow lick at a time. Her tongue was soft and thick and smooth, licking on my belly, licking until my sweat disappeared on her tongue. She tasted my sweat, tasted my yearning to be eaten. I wanted her to give in to that yearning.
CHAPTER 5
She licked her upper lip with a curving tongue as she noticed the perceptible swell of my clit. A glimpse of sheen was scintillating at its head. Dim flickers of gloss glinted across the tightly stretched pink skin of my clit; it was erect, widened, and raw with sensitivity. She moaned into my pussy, her face had a druggy-look.
“Mhhmmmm.” A long dragging moan, transmitting her pleasure.
She looked up into my half-shut eyes then in a thickly horny voice asked, “Do you want me to lick you, ma’am? Eat your pussy? Is that what you’ve always desired? My tongue?”
“Yes, oh yes, yes. Eat me, girlllll. Devour me.”
She wasted no time, lengthened her tongue onto my folds, and made a long, slow, slow, slow, mightily slow, lick. The lick didn’t start from the middle of my wetness. It start
ed before my opening. Below. From under my pussy. She slowly dragged her tongue up to my entrance, dragged the broadness of her tongue through the wet soft river up over my pretty, swollen, and sensitive clit. She kept going, dragging it up to my belly, to inside my navel, dragging it up to a kiss, and then biting into the curving nape of my neck. My knees jerked, clattered together sharply. My hand palmed the crown of her head. I moaned with my eyes closed. A long moan, fighting to withstand all the pleasures running up and down my body. I rubbed down to the back of her head, stuffed her face back down between my legs.
She re-wetted her tongue. She started at the same spot, between my asshole and pussy. The second touch of her tongue on me caused a sharp belly-flattening inhale. I showed my eyes, gripped into her soft hair, restrained her so she would not come up. She obeyed, keeping her face in my pussy.
Against her tongue my impossibly stiff clit felt fevered with warmth, stretching further than I ever thought it could go. I desired to be fucked, needed to be fucked. She buried her tongue down my hole. I was almost too narrow, too wet. She let her tongue settle in my pussy. My opening winked around her tongue, but she kept it in, lengthened it down further inside me, stiffened her tongue to a pointed tip, and flicked it upward against the inner roof of my sensitive slit. She flicked it over and over again, then rammed it down in my hole. Pulled it out. Rammed it back in. Her wet lips slapped against my wet folds, her tongue stiff and smooth and long and pink. She plunged it back down into my pussy, my pussy wetter than a diving competition. She stopped abruptly and kept still, letting my juices soak into her thick tongue. My pussy reacted and she sharply hauled her stiff tongue out. I felt the absence of her tongue in between my folds, the absence of her warmth, the emptiness from her withdrawn tongue, and my pussy squeezed itself together with nothing inside to squeeze itself on, and even that felt good.
She teased a soft flick at the tip of my clit. I squeezed again. Ohh, lord, I wanted more. I wanted hard. I wanted tongue. I wanted to be tongue-fucked. I needed my pussy sucked. My juices were thicker as they scribbled formlessly down my thighs. My thighs were now dangerously wet, juices scrawling down the pulsing sides of my pink fold against my will. They caused the delightful feeling of warm, wiggly trickle between my inner thighs, caused from too much pleasure. I felt the fading change in temperature of the wetness against me as it softly changed from warm, to nothing, to cool. It made my nipples thicken and my pussy sharply scrunch inwardly, so tight. My once clean, blank legs were now a mess with the squiggling running lines of my wet succulence. Her hand reached up and barely grazed an open palm over my nipple. I felt her horny pinching fingers clipping and nipping on top of my breast hunting to locate my nipples without looking up from her heftily wet meal.