He calls to me

“Come here,” he says, seductive low voice on the phone. I want to resist. Tell myself to say no.

But I don’t. He knows this, knows me too well. He calls, and I answer. That’s how we are, how we work. “OK,” I say.

I arrive in short time, and he pulls me into his arms. He slides his hand down to my ass and pulls me into him. I feel the strength in his arms, feel his large hand as he grabs me by the back of the head and mashes his lips onto mine.

This is what I love about him – his possessiveness is all-encompassing. He does not stop, assaulting my mouth until my legs are weak and my pussy is throbbing.

It’s been too long since I last saw him. Work and other responsibilities keep us apart, but never for long.

Finally, he releases me, only to kiss my neck, lips suckling, and he growls “Mine” in my ear.

I gather myself together enough to respond, “Always” I say. He envelops me in his arms in a thick hug.

We pull apart and look into each other’s eyes. (Cue stupid romantic music here). These stolen moments, these frozen moments, they are my release.

He grabs my hand and pulls me along to the bedroom. Once there, he hugs me again, holds me close, rubs his strong hands up and down my back. I hold him tightly to myself, giving back just as much.

“I missed you, my love” he whispers. “Always,” I say again.

A deep kiss follows, souls fueled on one another. He breathes in suddenly as I grab his ass, massage it, pull him to me. I suddenly cannot be without this man,  need him with me, in me.

Clothes fly, and the kisses become quicker, breaths faster. He lifts me onto the bed and plunges in quickly, filling me instantly. But then he stops, gazes down at me, and his eyes water. “What?” I ask.

“You’re just so much,” he says. I smile. “Always,” I say. He smiles back, and we continue our lovemaking.

Anticipation – Part 3

Cam paced nervously back and forth. This was a first for both of them. They were finally going to have a threesome. This was it. No turning back. Going to do it. He kept up the self-talk. Nervous as hell, he thought. Why am I so fucking nervous?

Danna was already wet. This threesome was long-anticipated for her. But she knew that it was not a traditional threesome. Their third person was male, and bisexual. She was going to have sex with both men, and they were going to also have sex with each other. The very thought made her swell. She dressed carefully, taking her time, making sure the details were exact. Her legs were shaved, smooth, new panties, pushup bra. Over it all, a lovely sexy red gown. Ripe red lips, a touch of perfume. She was ready.

She joined Cam on the couch. He had missed a spot when he shaved, she could see. A casual shirt, khakis, slip on shoes.

She placed her hand on Cam’s knee. “Calm,” she said. “You will be fine.” She smiled slightly, and he relaxed. She poured them both a glass of champagne. “To new adventures,” he said, and they clinked glasses. A third glass waited for the arrival.

A firm knock on the door startled them both. Cam rose to answer the door, a firm black man, tall, strong. He opened to see their pick, an older white man, same height as Cam, but less bulk. “Welcome,” Cam took his hand. “Come in, please. You must be Scott.”

“Nice to meet you,” replied Scott. He was a bit nervous, but found both of these people attractive, and knew their evening was going to be great fun for all of them. Danna was so sexy in her red, with her porcelain skin a nice contrast. He wondered how Cam was going to respond tonight. According to Danna, he had never touched a man sexually. But he was willing to play tonight. That’s what mattered.

The three shared another glass of champagne, Scott sitting on the couch between them. It felt comfortable, which surprised all of them. No awkward pauses, there were so many shared interests.

Danna was ready. She could not wait another moment. She placed her hand on Scott’s knee. Trailed her fingers up and down. She could easily see his bulge beginning to grow. VERY nice, she thought. Cam watched her with amusement, she was enjoying herself. He watched as she turned Scott’s face to hers, and kissed him deeply, her tongue darting in and out. She stopped and turned to Cam, your turn. “Um,” he replied.

“Put your hand on his knee,” she ordered. She loved being in charge, and knew Cam needed a little incentive to get going. “Now!”

Cam complied. “Yes, mistress,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with this. Danna took his hand, rubbing up and down Scott’s leg. “Feel how nice and strong this is,” she said. “Now higher.” Cam moved his hand higher on Scott’s leg.

Scott watched, smiling, as the tug of war commenced. He was willing to do whatever the couple wanted, as they wanted it. He was hoping for certain things, but would take what he could get. No hurry. He knew that Cam was inexperienced, so he would wait.

Danna reached over to unbuckle and unzip Scott’s pants. “Oooh, that’s beautiful,” she told him. “Your cock is nice.” She began to stroke his hardness. “Your turn,” she told Cam. Cam tentatively touched  the tip of his penis. It felt like his own. He was aware of his own cock growing. He wondered how it would feel in his mouth.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” purred Danna.

(if you want to see more of this story, I will write what happened next when I receive 10 likes or comments)

 

Dinner and drinks

She invites me over, this time along with some girlfriends. We bond, as mothers do, but we are of different generations. She and I are near the end of our parenting tenure; the other two are young and fairly new to this adventure. We have girl time, talking and sharing stories, not just about husbands or kids or recipes, but about things that matter in our hearts, our minds, our personal perceptions. We drink and smoke, have fun with just ourselves. We take a poll about who enjoys giving blow jobs. She and I both do; we love the power. The others do not.

We talk about how we have changed, and the young ones are still naive. We share our bodily differences, and She shows her nipples to the one without boobs, Ms Flatness. Ms Flatness shows hers, and complains about her nipple dropping into her areola. Be happy with yourself, they tell her. NO! I say, if you want a boob job, get one. In the end, you have to be happy, and if you are miserable being flat, then do something. It’s okay to want to change, to grow, to be different than you are, I tell them all. Probably the pot speaking. I am open. I want to be different.We could spend hours talking, and we almost do. Laughing, grouping and regrouping, it is nice to be just us women.

Later, the men and children arrive. The tone changes, even though they do not interfere. But suddenly we are mothers again. Some of them are wives. Their roles are clear. Right now, they cannot change, to redefine, because they cannot lose what they have.

In the kitchen, She wants to tempt me. Close your eyes, she directs, and bring the smell into you. I lean forward into her open legs, as she is sitting on the counter. I place my hands on either leg, holding them, as I obey her, willing my body to stay still. I caress her knee where her jeans are oh-so-artfully torn. She passes the cooked meat below my nose, and I breathe deep. I hear her guttural laugh, know that She knows that I know that She has all the power. Take in the essence, She commands. I laugh nervously and open my eyes to look at her. Ms Flatness is my witness. I turn to see, but She says to close my eyes again. I turn back, and do as I am told. Again she passes the meat under my nose, and I breathe. I can smell her beyond the meat. I take in the essence as well. Open your mouth and take it in, taste it, She orders, and of course I do. She shoves it in aggressively. There! She is victorious. Once again, She has made me do what she wants.

A beautiful day

She invited me to swim. It was her idea, so I said yes. She has no idea what I have in mind.

I arrive, frozen low-fat, organic pizza in hand. She is already in her bikini, on her second glass of wine. While the oven heats, we share a few hits off a pipe. A nice glow, that. We catch up, who is seeing who, why her last relationship failed, where mine is going.

The pot is pretty strong, and I’m beginning to feel it. Giddy, happy, funny, laughing, she is too. We talk some more, I tell her about the job, and she explains what her kids are doing. Ordinary chit-chat, but it’s on a Wednesday. She asks me to play hooky next week, so I can come over and spend more time with her. She misses me, and other women don’t tend to like her. I certainly do, more than she knows, or understands yet. She is sex on a stick, delivered to my door. Big tits, luscious curves. Hetero.

Pizza is ready, but she doesn’t have any. Wheat bothers her, she says. I get it. I always do.

Wine is poured and we eat. I change into my suit so that we can swim. I have a bikini for you, if you want it. Yes, I want it. I change in front of her. Fellow women, we have no shame. I put on the top, and she reaches inside to fix my boobs. She pulls my nipples up to a higher part of the suit, giving me prominent cleavage. I feel her grab my nipples, I feel the light pinch. I tingle.

I hope you go in the pool, she says. Of course I do. The cool water gently laps my skin as she swims back and forth, and the dog follows her strokes. I duck under, and hold my breath, trying hard to become one with the water.

I can’t, the water beats me as I must have air.

When I come back up, there she is, next to me, and she reaches out to help me stand.  I take her hand and stand, getting closer to her. Close enough to count every freckle on her shoulder, every eyebrow hair that glistens with the pool water. I run my hand down her arm, from those gorgeous freckles, to her hand. Her eyes widen, her lips part. I can tell she is thinking, the gears are trying to play catch-up to the sensory. So I slide my fingers up her arm, feather-light touches, I know she barely feels them, but feels them too much. I have touched him in this way, but never a her.

I am unsure, but I am determined. I am brave, but I am trembling. I move her hair off her shoulder, and look into her eyes. Her brain in doing double duty, switching into a sexual mode that she has never explored. Neither have I. We are bi-virgins.

She smiles, as if she is wondering if this is a joke, hoping it is, hoping it isn’t. I slide both fingers up her arms to her shoulders, and then lightly down the front. I hear her gasp but do not see her lips move. Our eyes are locked on one another. She gives me permission through the widening of her pupils. I slide one finger over her nipple, sheathed in that bikini, then the other hand over her perfect hard nipple. I can feel the wetness as my pussy starts the swell. It is immediate. As I move my hands on her breasts, she starts to explore my body. She touches my arms, and then moves her hands into my hair. She doesn’t know what to do, but neither do I. We shall figure it out together.