Salima smoothed her fingers down Kitty’s frown lines and Kitty relaxed, whilst her finger inveigled themselves further inside Salima’s sucking recesses. ‘There’s no need to worry, Kamal won’t know. And, even if he did find out I don’t think he’d mind. A woman’s hardly competition is she? It’s not as if he has the competition of another gorgeous Arab man.’
‘Since you put it that way,’ Kitty replied, her finger moving up and down Salima’s sex slit. Salima shuddered and small beads of sex juice erupted from her maw and slicked her thighs. She was like a ripe peach, oozing and sweet. ‘Stick your fingers in, put them right in me, lover.’ She flopped back pumping her hips while Kitty fashioned her fingers into a missile and widening the hole with her other hand began to pump them in and out. Salima was elastic and her fingers slid in a long way. Kitty had something in her bedside drawer which would fit that hole, she smirked. God, she was being naughty, Kamal would kill her. Salima came with a great bucking spasm and then laughing she jumped on top of Kitty, straddling her with her hips. She was hot and her skin was slick with juice and perspiration.
Before Kitty knew what she was doing Salima was bending down and stretching out her long red tongue to stroke Kitty’s nipples. Kitty screamed it was so delicious and stretching forward she tweaked Salima’s pendulous breast.
‘Ow!’ Salima laughed. ‘Boy, you’re a fast learner.’
It was nice having her breasts massaged by Salima. Salima wriggled like a snake, rotating her feverish body over Kitty’s while Kitty squirmed and cried out for Salima’s hand. When Salima’s skilful fingers eventually began combing through her blonde bush she was ready to come.
Kitty still didn’t know where Salima, the mystery girl, came from, but the next day after Kamal left for work she came back. This time Kitty had her dildo waiting and the two women pleasured themselves before Kitty did what she’d been longing to do, she plunged her face down between Salima’s legs and she discovered the taste of pussy was just as nice as the taste of Kamal’s monster cock.
‘I have a treat for you,’ Salima said the next time. ‘Today I’ve brought some oils and I can massage you.’ Kitty grinned. She knew she’d enjoy Salima’s hands all over her body. She’d soon found out there was much to recommend the touch of a woman, a woman’s hands were patient and gentler than a man’s, and a woman knew how to awaken the secret pleasures of another woman’s body.
Salima stroked and cradled and stuck her fingers in Kitty’s secret places and next taking hold of Kitty’s legs she placed them around her shoulders and bending down she licked Kitty’s bush, and poking her tongue in a little way, she began to stroke her with the fleshy appendage. Kitty groaned. It felt so good, infinitely different to Kamal’s rough, muscular tongue. Before long, she was pulsing her hips and thrashing as the naughty tongue worked to and fro and Salima sucked on her fleshy sex lips.
One evening Kamal came home, he wrapped his arms around her and Kitty sighed and pressed her butt back against his erection.
‘Kitty, Kitty, you know how much I love you.’ He turned her to face him. ‘I swear each day you become more and more fascinating.’ He kissed her cheeks and her lips and trailed his tongue down her neck, before he began loosening her robe.
Kitty smiled as she led Kamal into the bedroom.
‘It’s so warm I opened the window a little bit wider. And, I thought it might be fun to do it in a different way,’ Kitty suggested with a wicked gleam in her eye.
‘What way would that be?’ Kamal asked.
Kitty slipped off her robe. ‘I want you to give it to me up my arse.’
Kamal slapped her buttocks roughly. ‘You little whore where did you get that idea? Come to think of it ...’ He squinted at her. ‘You seem to have a lot of new ideas lately.’
‘You inspire me,’ Kitty flirted as she got down on her hands and knees and spreading her legs winked at Kamal over her shoulder.
Kamal was laughing as he jerked his pants down over his hips and liberating his organ, he leant over Kitty, bunching her thick blonde hair up in his hand and burying his face in it. ‘Wow! you smell lovely. I didn’t know you used neem oil, the girls in the bazaar use neem oil?’
‘There’s lots you still don’t know about me,’ Kitty said seductively, as she raised her head and she saw Salima peeping from around her window with her finger pressed to her mouth and a smile on her lips. Her other hand was of course buried in her thatch.
‘Fuck me,’ Kitty said.
Kamal cupped her breasts and as she rocked back and forth, Kitty thought, how great it was to have a bit of both.
Bitch For Life
by Giselle Renarde
‘I used to have a girlfriend,’ Marina claimed, as she tossed a dishtowel over her shoulder. She squirted soap into the stream of hot water, and little white bubbles filled the sink. ‘This was back before we got together, obviously.’
Brian didn’t look up from the Sunday paper, even as she collected the breakfast dishes from under his nose. ‘Is that so?’ he replied with an air of disbelief masquerading as disinterest.
‘Did you hear me, Brian?’ she went on. Egg cups and coffee spoons clattered against the sides of the sink. She turned off the water. ‘I said I had a girlfriend when I was younger. A female lover! Doesn’t that excite you? Arouse you? Evoke any sort of visceral reaction in your gut?’
He flipped to page five and the full-page, full-colour glamour photo of a half-naked blonde. Nothing. ‘Yes, that’s very nice, dear.’
She rapped her wet fingernails against the countertop for a full 30 seconds, but he didn’t look up from his paper. ‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll prove it to you.’ Traipsing up the staircase, she dug like a noisy terrier through the bedroom closet. ‘There! You see?’ she said when she’d come back down. ‘This frock was hers.’
Without as much as a glance, Brian asked, ‘If it was hers, why do you have it?’
Marina held the dress to her cheek. ‘I took it when we parted – something to remember her by. She wore it all the time.’
Folding his paper, Brian gazed up at the crimson gown cradled like an infant in his wife’s arms. ‘If your mysterious girlfriend wore that dress all the time, why does it have a shop tag hanging from the back of it?’
Marina’s eyes opened wide. She tore off the tag and pitched it in the bin. ‘Oh, shut up you bloody nuisance of a man! I’m only trying to …’
‘What was this girl’s name?’ he interrupted, now thoroughly amused by the charade.
‘Her name was Olive,’ Marina replied with characteristic decisiveness. ‘She had long chestnut hair and perfect skin. Her figure was impeccable – slim, with small breasts and a tight little bum.’
Rising from his breakfast chair, he asked, ‘If she was so slim, what was she doing wearing a size 14 dress?’
Marina tightened her fists around the fabric. ‘Oh, you bloody, bloody man!’ she cried, tossing the gown to the ground. Turning on her heels, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door.
Brian collected the dress from the kitchen floor. When he held it up in the mid-morning sun filtering through the window, he realised her game. Speeding upstairs, he knocked at the bedroom door. ‘Marina, darling, I see what you’re trying for, but it’s time you gave it a rest. The little man isn’t likely to stand at attention simply because you put him in a dress. We had a good go at lust in our younger days. Now is the time for chaste companionship!’
‘Younger days?’ Marina shouted through the closed door. ‘Have you entered a time warp and aged 20 years overnight? You are not old, Brian! I am not old! We are not old! I have now all the needs I had when we were first married, and if you won’t take a little blue pill to help fulfil them, then you’d better bloody well do this!’
With a sigh, Brian looked at the gauzy dress in his hand. He had absolutely no desire to wear it, or even to set foot inside the bedroom. Why couldn’t he and Marina simply cosy up on the porch swing and read their books, as they did every Sunday?
Sex was for vulgar youth. He and his darling wife were past that phase of life. All he wanted now was rest and relaxation.
And then Marina opened the bedroom door. She wore an outfit the likes of which Brian had never seen on his wife … or on any person in real life, for that matter. Black stiletto boots, sheer black stockings, thigh-high, and secured with garters hanging from what appeared to be a patent leather bustier. Her knickers seemed to be constructed of the same material, but those were secured with a belt latch at the crotch. She’d pulled her hair back into a tight bun and put on red lipstick and fishnet gloves that ascended past her elbows.
‘Olive!’ she cooed, with a wicked grin on her lips. ‘So long since last I saw you. But you’d not dressed, you bad little thing. Come in and I shall take care of you.’
Before he knew it, Brian had a dog collar around his neck. Marina pulled him, baffled, into the bedroom by a leash, and secured him to the wrought-iron bedpost. ‘My little Olive,’ she went on. ‘I always did love your long, flowing hair.’ From the dressing table, she picked up a wig and jammed it onto his head. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he had brown hair with bangs and subtle curls. He had to admit, it looked quite natural. Even in his terry robe, he looked the part his wife wished him to play.
‘Why am I wearing a collar?’ Brian asked.
Marina snatched the red dress from his hands and stripped off his housecoat. ‘Because you’re fickle. You’re disobedient. You must be like the loyal hound and do as your mistress says, you wretched girl.’
‘I see.’
His wife had spoken to him this way many times over, but to the best of his recollection, she’d never called him a girl. That made him feel … different …
Holding the unzipped dress near his feet, Marina picked up Brian’s ankles one by one and forced him to step inside. She pulled the dress up and secured it at the back. The silky lining felt quite lovely against his naked skin, and when he looked into the mirror, he was surprised at how young he appeared. ‘Goodness, will you look at that!’
Marina did look at him. She scratched her chin in deep contemplation. ‘Ah!’ she finally exclaimed. Walking to the dressing table in her big boots, she snatched up a tube of lipstick and returned to paint his lips. ‘And one more detail.’ From the closet, she pulled out a pair of patent leather high-heeled shoes nearly the same shade as his dress.
When she sunk to her knees to jam the size ten pumps onto his feet, Brian noticed the mountains of soft white cleavage surging from her tight corset. He noticed it. That was the first time in a long while he’d noticed his wife’s body. He felt rather strangely about it, in fact, as if the act of noticing was akin to disrespect.
‘There now, Olive,’ Marina said, turning him to face the mirror. ‘You’re as fetching as you were 20 years ago.’
Brian wasn’t sure how to respond, but the image of this pretty female persona standing tall beside Domme Marina inspired a long-forgotten surge of excitement in his veins. In the mirror, they looked quite like female lovers. In fact, they looked precisely like female lovers.
‘Olive,’ Marina went on. ‘I shall be gentle with you on this occasion. I’m sure, after so many years apart, you’ve quite forgotten your role.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t think so,’ Brian replied. Judging by the dog collar and leash, he was quite certain, ‘I’m your bitch.’ He fell to the floor on his hands and knees. Why? For want of pleasing Marina, one, but also because seeing his reflection in the dress and the hair, and lipstick and shoes made Brian feel like an altogether different person. ‘I obey your commands, and I do as you say without hesitation.’
A smirk he hadn’t seen in years bled across Marina’s lips. She sat down on the velvet chair across the room and unbuckled the latch on her knickers. ‘Din-dins, Olive. Time to eat me.’
He wasn’t sure if the leash would extend that far. He crawled slowly across the carpet, in the hope he wouldn’t choke himself to death. When he arrived within ten centimetres of his wife’s wide-open cunt, the leash latched and he could go no further. He extended his tongue, and almost touched the pink of her pussy lips, but not quite.
‘Olive,’ Marina said in a disappointed lilt. ‘You wretched little thing! I told you it was time to eat.’
‘I can’t make it,’ Brian whimpered. His voice sounded more high-pitched than normal, and when he caught sight of himself on all fours, bum in the air and heels sticking upward, he felt a tingle in his pelvis. Surging forward, he nearly strangled himself, and he moved the bed just enough to dive between Marina’s legs and feast on her waiting body.
Her entire core bucked in the chair as Brian drew her clit into his mouth. He licked her trimmed pussy lips again and again, but always came back to the proud little bud surging at the apex of her slit. When he sucked her clit, she squirmed and writhed so much her tits popped out of her corset. Marina was absolutely right – she wasn’t old. He wasn’t old. They weren’t old. After a few failures to launch, why had he given up on lovemaking? Look how Marina enjoys herself when I kiss her cunt! Feel the enthusiasm with which she ploughs her pussy into my face! How he’d missed seeing her so aroused, and tasting her pleasure in his mouth.
Bucking against his tongue, Marina called to the heavens with all the force of her being. It had been so long since Brian had brought her to orgasm, and he wanted to do it again, but Marina closed her legs and backed away, panting like a dog on a hot summer’s day. ‘Very nice,’ she said. ‘Good show, Olive, my pet, but oh …’ She took a moment to catch her breath. ‘I suspect there’s something different about you. You were never quite so talented before.’ Sitting cross-legged in the velvet chair, Marina said, ‘Rise to your feet, my clever bitch. Let’s see what’s changed.’
Brian did as he was told and stood in place. He was shaky on his feet in the red patent heels. They pinched his toes terribly, but his pain was well worth Marina’s pleasure.
‘Well, what in heaven’s name is this?’ Marina asked, rising to grab Brian’s firm cock through his dress.
He’d suspected as much. He was quite certain he had a stiffy, but he didn’t want to jinx it by looking. The minute he checked, he was sure it would fearfully deflate. Wouldn’t be the first time.
‘What is this?’ Marina repeated. ‘Olive, my bitch, you never had one of these before.’
When she stroked his erection through the dress’s gauzy outer layer and its silky liner fabric, Brian’s knees nearly buckled. He struggled to stay upright in his high-heeled shoes, but the combined sensations made him weak. ‘God, Marina …’
‘You used to fuck me with your fingers, Olive. Now look what you can fuck me with!’
Brian backed up as Marina shifted her chair nearer to the bed. When he caught sight of his erect dick pumping precome into the fabric of his red dress, a surge of adrenaline shot through his body. He grabbed Marina by the hips and pressed her knees to the seat of the chair. Her pale arse was naked but for the garters holding up her stockings and the unlatched knickers hanging down her crack. He grabbed that line of patent leather as he pulled his skirt up past his hard prick. ‘Would you like me to bang you, Marina?’
She growled as she turned to meet his gaze. ‘Bang me like a dog, bitch.’
‘Because I can …’
Holding his firm dick at the base, he guided its tip to Marina’s wet slit. His saliva and her juice made her pussy lips slick, and he had no trouble plunging his cock deep inside her cunt. With one hand, he held his skirt against his middle so he could watch every thrust. With the other hand, he held the back of her leather knickers like a rein. His heels planted themselves firmly in the carpet. He rode her hard. While she gripped the velvet chair with her fingers, she also gripped his cock with her cunt. He fucked her from behind like a dog, and she grunted and howled all the while. When he looked down at her puckering asshole, his long brown hair fell forward and danced against her white cheeks. In the mirror, Brian watched Marina’s free breasts swinging as he rocked her. His thrusts became firm
and fast. She cried out and pushed her arse back at his pelvis, nearly knocking him off-kilter. He stayed the course, watching her arse right there in front of him, watching her tits swinging in the mirror, and watching the tall brunette in a crimson dress fuck his wife.
His muscles contracted and he thrust forward as she bucked back. His balls seemed to quake as though they’d accumulated much too much come. When he came, the explosion went far beyond any sensation he’d ever experienced. He filled his wife with years’ worth of cream. She was warm and wet inside, and he didn’t want to pull out of her, but he knew neither his legs nor his heels would support him any more. Kicking off his shoes, he lay down on the bed.
Marina unfastened his leash and took off his collar. His hair was sweating under the wig, but he left it on regardless, and neither was he in any hurry to take off the dress. It felt like a woman draped everywhere against his skin.
Laying her head on his chest, Marina stared up at Brian for a good long time with a red smile plastered to her face. He took her escaped tits in his hand and clutched them, touched them, and squeezed their nipples. She sighed and then giggled like a schoolgirl.
‘What?’ he chuckled in return.
‘You,’ she said. ‘All these years lusting after my virginal husband …’
‘Well, I was hardly that …’
‘… and all I had to do was put you in a dress.’
‘And a dog collar,’ he laughed. Reflecting on his desire and on hers, he went on, ‘I don’t think it was the components – it wasn’t the frock or the leash or the shoes or any one thing. It was the look in your eyes, my darling, and the extent of your arousal. When you looked at me like you craved me, you wanted me, and then went wild rubbing yourself all over my face, that’s what did it.’
She gazed at him for a long time, with an indecipherable look in her eye. ‘But, my pet, my sweetheart, I craved you through all these chaste years. I wanted you all that time.’
Best of Both: When You Just Can't Decide Page 12