Her breast felt quite wonderful, and I wanted to cup it, and to put my other hand on her opposite breast for that matter, and to squeeze them both until they were off of her, until they were mine, and mine alone, and yes, yes, I suddenly realized I wanted that, even if I didn't know exactly why...
And huh... It turns out I was making a pretty decent lesbian after all. Who woulda thunk it?
And suddenly I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist. She penetrated me with those eyes of hers, unflinching, and unmoving, and I started to hold my breath again. She pulled the arm down, down, down along her body, her breasts ceasing their heaving as she herself held her breath, and my fingers were forced to trickle, down her abdomen, down to her waist, and I felt the world briefly stop as she pressed me into the opening between the legs of her pants, holding my palm up against the tight, severe warmth, and rubbing herself with my fingers, as though trying to rub on a magic lamp, the two of us going red from our held breath, our eyes still fixed on one another, and a smile slowly spreading out across her face, as I could almost feel the pleasure begin to radiate up from her loins into the rest of her body.
She released my hand from her own, and the two of us sighed, but I didn't remove my fingers from the spot between her thighs.
I was finding this a very nice place to be at the moment...
And she began to move toward me, so slowly that I wasn't sure it was real, thinking that maybe the world was simply tilting on its axis, creating some sort of optical illusion that only made it look as though that was what was happening, and only when I tasted her did I realize that it was real, and a brief, sudden spike of panic flashed up in me, so barely there that it was gone in a flash, and as I began to process it, my eyelids closed, almost of their own volition, and I simply took in the sensation, the long, hot, sticky beauty, its registration taking some time, as I had to allow my mouth to thaw somewhat before it could properly feel anything, and when it did, I don't mind telling you that it really did, whatever chemicals that translate during kissing suddenly sparking and crackling and popping like fireworks between the two of us, my head going light as though I'd suddenly inhaled a great quantity of some wonderful, illicit substance, and this one, sweet, first kiss going on and on and on indefinitely, feeling as though it would never end, and my hand delicately, subtly pulling away from her crotch, setting down beside me on the bed for stability, because I honestly believed I might fall over without some extra boon to my dizzy weight.
And at last, we pulled apart.
And we stared. And we stared. And we stared and stared and stared.
There was a long, gooey spider web of our saliva threading between us, drifting gently through space, snapping, and dissolving into nothing, and the existence of this subtle little phenomenon was enough to set me over the edge.
And this time, we tore into each other.
We clung together, scrambling across one another's bodies as though clinging for dear life, our lips melting together as we made out like teenagers or newlyweds or soldiers on shore leave or repressed homosexual politicians, our tongues lashing, lapping, licking, tasting one another's beautiful, forbidden fruit, our hands, meanwhile, squeezing, groping, caressing, grabbing, tugging greedily at one another's flesh, clawing at asses, cupping tits, tweaking nipples through fabric, rubbing up and down the trunks of one another's bodies, pushing fabric aside into messy wads, heating and moistening one another up to an unbearable degree, our heads spinning as though inebriated, and oh God, oh God, oh God how wonderful...
And I didn't even realize it happening almost, as it was almost like a natural part of the proceedings, but our clothes were melting off of our bodies, article by article by article, blouses, skirt, pants, bras, panties, simply dissolving like liquids, pouring like the sweat down along our forms and dripping to the floor in a nice, tangled puddle, so that it would take some doing for us to sort everything out at the end of all this.
And we were nude.
Our heaving, writhing bodies glistened with perspiration, and we pressed our breasts together, the negative space between our toned, flat abdomens driving us wild as we continued to consume one another, our shared heat now simmering us up to a boil, and I tried to pull away from her to move down, but she nibbled on my lip, and it drove me insane, and I had to taste her again first, and she reached down, and pressed her hands against my clean-shaven pubic triangle, sliding down, hooking her fingers between my wet thighs, pushing the tight flesh of my sopping wet femininity around with her fingers, and this time I did have to pull away gasping, and it gave me the opportunity to crane down, and do what I'd planned to earlier, scooping my head down to those succulent breasts of hers, and letting my lips dissolve around her left titty, suckling on her as though for nourishment, my tongue lapping around and around in vicious laps, making her sigh, if not whimper with pleasure, and yes, yes, yes, what a wonderful thing to love a member of your own sex, and how sad it would have been if I had never gotten to experienced this, and how had I avoided experiencing it for so, so long?
And she pushed me playfully down onto the bedspread, my breasts bouncing as the mattress jiggled beneath my weight, and she towered dominantly over me with evil in her eyes, taking what I would traditionally call the man's role in our lovemaking, and descending upon me like a bird of prey, her head falling lower, lower, lower, the course of her face looking suspiciously directed to land between the opening of my splayed thighs...
And I gasped, feeling her touch down, her lips against those of my glistening vagina, pushing them around as she kissed me down below, working the flesh around and around, almost like chewing gum, I thought in my stupor, and the sensation ripped through my body. And she seized hold of my knees for support, pushing, pushing, pushing them further apart, opening me wider and wider and wider, and then the pink, hot meat of her tongue, pressing into me, sliding tenderly, up, up, up across the folds of my cunt, and oooooooooohhhhhh Godddddddddd... My fingers dug into the bedspread, and I swear to God my eyes fucking crossed with pleasure as I blearily watched her bob her head down below, licking and eating and tasting me, and swirling her tongue around the way I'd always desired a man to do for me, and knowing exactly what I wanted, and peeling up against the fleshy pink nub of my clitoris, “Ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh,” and my thighs collapsing around her bobbing head as the sensation tore through me like wildfire, pushing her deeper into me, like a Venus flytrap, attempting to consume her, to live forever off of this deep, perfect, insane passion.
And I'm not really sure how or when it happened, but I was reciprocating. My head was between her thighs as well, tasting the sweet, salty tang of pooty tang, my lips dissolving into her, my tongue lashing inside, lapping, licking, swirling, trying to match her precision, her utterly bewildering expertise at cunnilingus, but knowing that I would inevitably fall far, far short of her efforts, but that I would at least do my damnedest to please her as she did me, the two of us locked in a fleshy, sixty-nining configuration, whimpering into one another's delectable cunts as the mutual pleasure shook through us, the entire scene like a beautiful, unfathomable wet dream, lost in a sweet, sticky haze, and oh God, oh God, oh yes, oh yes, those feelings, those sensations, yes, yes, YES!
And I was sprawled out across the bed, my breasts pooled up on top of my body, heaving as I struggled to regain my composure, and stars flashing across my eyes as I tried to calm myself the fuck down- honestly, I have no idea whether she'd eaten me to climax or not, but it sure as hell felt like the aftershock of something so vicious as an oral orgasm. At any rate, however, if she hadn't, I didn't have much to worry about, as the best was still yet to come.
She climbed on top of me, straddling my waist, and mounting me in a way that made me even wetter than I had been before.
The lips of our vaginas kissed, pressing tenderly together, their heat and moisture sticking us together like some perverse adhesive, and she pushed herself forward, deeper, deeper, deeper up against me, and I moaned, “Ohhhhhhhh,” closing my eyes
, feeling the heat of her touch as it consumed me, the only thing in the entire universe that mattered in that moment, lost in the black, fuzzy haze of pleasure.
And she began to dry hump me, dry only in a technical sense, as the two of us were slick as ice with female lubricant, the soft, floral folds of our vaginas pressing together, smearing, pushing around, widening, expanding, collapsing, rubbing and humming and burning, getting hotter, hotter, hotter, as she just kept rocking, slowly, agonizingly slowly, her movements so light that I thought I would go insane with anticipation each time, until at last she worked herself up into a rhythm, her body gyrating, around and around and around, bouncing up and down occasionally, so that our wet crotches made a SLAP, SLAP, SLAP sound as they smacked together, and she went back to rocking, fucking, grinding, twats smearing, fluids mingling, our moans chirping out through the room like a chorus, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh God, oh God, oh fuck, oh yes, oh yes, oh YES!”
And the orgasm ripped through our bodies, wave after wave after wave, radiating, consuming us, our forms convulsing together, our limbs shaking, and it was like each of us could feel the pleasure of the other, like any inequity I may have felt with a man was suddenly gone now that I knew our satisfaction was the same, roaring through our bodies like wildfire, eating us up, our moans ebbing and flowing as we each bounded up and down along the peaks and valleys of multiple orgasms, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHHHH, OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH, OHHHH, OHHH, OH, OH, oh, oh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OHHHHH, OHHHHHHH...” and so on and so forth.
And at long, long last, so long that I thought I might just die from sexual exhaustion in the meantime, she collapsed on the bed beside me, the two of us panting like two frenzied bitches, falling instantly into one another's arms, wrapping ourselves together, and continuing to kiss, to wrap our bodies into a single unit as we faded off into sleep, sweaty and satisfied and utterly content.
Next to the existence of the list itself, this may have been about the best decision I had ever made...
TO BE CONTINUED......
Office Party Menage
1
“Order for Chloe!” I heard the man at the counter say. Actually, it took him two or three times repeating it before I really noticed him. At the time I'd been too busy peering down at my phone. God, it had been a dreadful morning. I'd woken up late, with my hair all a mess, and realized that I forgot to set my alarm clock. Or, well, it was set, but, like, I had it set to PM, instead of AM. Man, I hate it when I do that. I'm just such a ditz sometimes, I don't even pay attention to that sort of thing.
So, thanks to that little mistake, I was left scrambling my tush off to try and get to the office before the morning turned into afternoon. I was late into work way too often, and I knew I needed to shape up if I had a hope in hell of hanging on to my job. For some reason, though, no one ever really said much to me about it or acted like they cared. Except for maybe the receptionist at the front of the office, Joanne. Some old crab of a lady who's about a hundred years old... Or, well, maybe that's not fair. She's in, like, her fifties I think. She always gave me this look of death whenever I traipsed in around a quarter to ten or so, like she wished she had the power to fire my butt on the spot for being so damn late all the time. Sometimes she commented on it, but for the most part she just gave me that cold look, and let me be on my way.
No one else really ever said anything, though. I think it was because I was so forgettable and easy to ignore. I could've just skipped showing up to work altogether and I honestly don't know whether anyone would have said anything. Maybe I should have been relieved by that, but at the same time it would have been nice to think people took me a little bit more seriously. I'd always felt like I wasn't really taken seriously. I could hear it in people's voices, in the way they talked to me, that they didn't think I was worth their time of day.
So anyway, after waking up so late I was rushing around like a mad woman, tearing through my closet for something to wear. On any given day it felt like I had absolutely nothing in my wardrobe. I think the problem was that I didn't really think I would look halfway decent in anything I put on. I was such a plain Jane, with my d-cup breasts, twenty-six inch waist, thin arms, supple red lips, flowing chestnut hair, crystal blue eyes, long black eyelashes, and firm, supple buttocks. It didn't help much either that I had to wear this thick framed pair of glasses everywhere that made me look like a total geek. I mean honestly, you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. My mother was always telling me that growing up, and I should have known better than to waste so much time on fashion when I knew it was pointless.
I ended up settling on this white, skin tight dress shirt, a black pencil skirt that pressed my buttocks up into the air, and a pair of stiletto heels that I know made me look ridiculous. Once I had all that picked out and was out the door, things didn't get much easier for me. On the way down the street to hail a taxi, this group of guys kept whistling at me, cat-calling me as I walked past the construction site where they worked. That kind of thing is humiliating to any woman, but for me it was even worse because I knew they were just making fun of me.
I tried to ignore it, even though I could feel my cheeks growing pink, and my nipples beginning to press up against the front of my blouse from the frigid air of that winter morning. God, why didn't I wear a bra that day?
I thought I was going to have a hard time hailing a taxi. I hadn't seen any anywhere around, which is kind of strange in a city this big. I figured it was just how my day was going to go based on how things were progressing so far. When I finally did see one I ran up to it, just about tripping on my heels when they got caught in a subway grate. I caught myself just in time from falling, but by the time I made it to the curb there was some other guy stepping into the taxi, a businessman looking sort of guy. He seemed like he could have worked on Wall Street or something like that.
“Oh, poo,” I said, ashamed at my lewdness even as the words crossed my lips.
The man turned to look at me, stopping before he got his foot in the door of the cab. I shrunk into myself, and I felt his eyes running all along my body, over every curve, fixing on my breasts as they beat through the air, heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I could feel my nostrils flaring at him, my eyes meeting his own in the air with such a penetrating look that his entire face became red.
I knew exactly what he was thinking in that moment: God, what a pathetic young woman.
He didn't say this, obviously. People were always far too polite to say what they really thought about me, even if I knew what was really going on in their heads. Instead, I guess trying to get into the spirit of the holiday, he opened up the door of the cab for me, and waved me inside.
“Why don't you take this one sugarplum? I can just wait for the next one...”
God, it was embarrassing. I felt bad accepting his pity like that, but I was running so late by now that I knew I couldn't turn down the offer.
“Um... Thank you,” I muttered, not able to look him in the eyes. I could feel him ogling me every step as I ducked into the car, obviously thinking of me like some kind of charity case. It was a relief to finally close the door and give the taxi driver my destination.
Finally my morning was starting to turn itself around, but I was still pretty flustered from everything that had happened so far. I guess maybe to some people the whole thing might not sound like all that much. But I'm such a shy and simple girl that living in a big city like New York was always just so overwhelming to me.
As we drove along through the streets, I could feel the sweat pouring in torrents along my body, dripping into my breasts and staining the fabric of my blouse. I let out a deep breath. I eventually couldn't help it, and I was forced to unbutton the thing several buttons down, to cool myself off. I could see the cab driver looking back in his rear view mirror several times at my cleavage, smoldering with perspiration. I just had to keep trying to ignore him.
I could feel myself cooling down a little bit, and instead of paying atte
ntion to the driver's pitying glances I turned my head out the window to stare at the passing city as it flashed by my field of vision. As small as I usually feel in the rat race of the city, New York during the holidays is just something else. I stared with great big eyes as we passed all the decorated shopfronts, the giant Christmas trees and the ice skating rinks. I couldn't help but smile as I saw all the happy couples walking along hand in hand through the busy city streets, enjoying the winter atmosphere, kissing and laughing and probably planning to celebrate the holidays together in warm and wonderful ways.
I smiled at it for the longest time, but then I started to feel pretty sad inside. Not because I begrudged people that feeling, like I didn't want them to be happy or something. Really, I was glad they were able to feel that way. I just didn't quite feel that way myself so much. I knew that I wasn't going to get to spend the holidays with someone I love, because, well- it's like I said... I really didn't think anyone would stoop to loving a girl as plain and as innocent as me.
I could feel the heat rising up back inside of me thinking this, and I started to wave around the damp fabric at the front of my open blouse, trying to cool myself off. In doing this, I think I must have accidentally exposed my nipples to the cab driver- God, I was such an oaf. I think he must have been stunned that I was so disheveled, and in such a mess, because he stared at me harder than ever. So hard, in fact, that suddenly I felt the entire vehicle jolting forward around us. He tore his head back in a hurry as he slammed on the brakes, and we both saw with some surprise that he'd veered off the road into a parked car, whose alarm was now wailing out so loud that I had to plug my ears.
Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3) Page 26