When it comes to sex, I’ve always perceived myself as very open,

sophisticated, adventurous, erotic and fairly aggressive, in a lady-like way.

I have a very healthy sexual appetite and usually find a way of getting what I

want when I want it. And what I wanted, several months ago, was Eric, an

English professor who joined our department at the beginning of the Fall term.

   The first time I met Eric, at our weekly staff meeting, I was immediately

taken not only by his obvious intelligence, but by his quick wit and easy,

self-effacing humor. The fact that he was extremely handsome, very tall and

muscular with a lean, athletic kind of build was certainly a bonus, but the

fact that he was black somehow made him even more appealing.

   Under the guise of explaining our unusual curriculum to him, I invited

him to dinner at my home the following Saturday night and he happily accepted.

I couldn’t wait for the weekend and Bliterally counted the hours waiting to

get that black stud in bed with me.

   Saturday night finally arrived and after showering and preening for two

hours, I carefully selected my wardrobe to best show off my figure without

appearing too obvious. Since I have very large, firm breasts with very

prominent nipples, I decided on a silk beige blouse and matching high-slit

wraparound linen skirt. I almost always go braless and the blouse, although

not a see-through, was very clingy and revealing and the smooth silk fabric

constantly brushing against my nipples always kept them wonderfully excited. I

also decided on a very sexy lace garterbelt, sheer stockings and my highest,

sexiest black heels. Obviously swept up in one of those moods, I thought,

“what the hell”, and at the last minute decided to remove my French cut lace

panties. Checking myself out in the full length mirror, I knew that if this

outfit didn’t do it, nothing would.

   The doorbell rang, I quickly checked my hair and makeup one last time in

the mirror and raced to answer it. The moment I opened the door, my bubble

instantly burst. It was Eric, casually dressed in a sexy linen jacket, open

shirt and incredibly tight designer jeans, looking better in person than he

did in my fantasies. But, to my surprise and consternation, he was not alone.

With him was a very pretty, young, petite Caucasian woman whom he introduced

as Karen. His wife.

   After my initial shock, and doing my best to mask my disappointment, I

graciously invited them in. We chatted amicably and I took their drink orders,

retreating quickly to the privacy of my kitchen where I finally allowed myself

to quietly vent my exasperation. A few seconds later, Karen came in, offering

to help. Painting on a smile, I showed her where the hors d’ourves were and

she moved down the counter to get the tray while I got our drinks.

   As Karen gathered the tray and napkins, she looked at me curiously,

smiled, and, somewhat embarrassed, said, “Eric didn’t tell me you were so

beautiful.”

   Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I returned her smile and what I

wanted to say was ‘Eric didn’t tell me he was married’, but instead, I

accepted the complement and returned one. She was really a delightful, bubbly

young woman and although I was now resigned to sleeping with my trusty

vibrator that night, I realized that at the very least the dinner and

conversation would not be a total loss.

   Between the three of us, we drained two bottles of wine before dinner and

were becoming more than a little giddy. As I opened and poured the third

bottle of wine, I suddenly realized that every time I bent over, both Eric and

Karen got more than an eyeful of my sizable breasts swaying beneath my blouse.

It may have been the wine or even an unconscious act of revenge, but even

after I realized it, I continued to flaunt my tits for Eric. And I was

enjoying it immensely.

   The evening actually progressed very nicely. Karen, I learned was as

intelligent and as witty as Eric and not quite as young as I imagined. She had

beautiful long blonde hair done up in a French braid and was, I couldn’t help

admitting, an extremely attractive woman. She was also warm, gracious, open

and spontaneous – easy to know and even easier to like. By the end of dinner

we were talking like old friends and truly enjoying one another’s company.

   After dinner, when I returned to the living room with our Brandies, Eric

and Karen were standing at the bookcase thumbing through one of my books of

erotic photographs. The particular book they had found was a volume of

beautiful color plates of women loving women. Although I am not remotely a

lesbian, or even bisexual, I’ve always found those photographs to be extremely

erotic. And from the bulge in Eric’s tight jeans, he must have thought so, too.

   “I like your taste in…literature,” Eric grinned as I handed him his

drink.

   I’m sure I blushed as I stammered, “It’s research for a course in

American Eroticism I was thinking of teaching.” And I took a big gulp of my

Brandy.

   “Anything you say, Mickey,” Eric chuckled and they moved “over to the

sofa with the volume.

   It was immediately obvious to me that the pictures didn’t faze Karen in

the least. Sitting there, Eric turned the pages slowly and they casually

exchanged comments about the women in the photographs. Without thinking, I

drifted over to the sofa, sat down next to Karen and looked at the pictures

with them.

   Eric flipped another page and Karen suddenly put her hand on his to stop

him. She studied the photograph and exclaimed, “God, Eric, look at her

breasts, they’re gorgeous.” He nodded his agreement and Karen turned to me and

said, “some women are so lucky to have such nice tits. I’m so damn small on

top.”

   “I always tell you, honey, it’s quality, not quantity,” Eric laughed,

“isn’t that right, Mickey?”

   “Not when you can have both,” I replied too smartly. “See,” Karen

admonished Eric, “Mickey’s right. And look at her, doesn’t she have the most

fabulous figure?”

   “Yep,” Eric agreed, looking directly at me, “how could anyone not notice

that body.”

   “If I had breasts like yours, Mick,” Karen continued, “I’d never hide

them. I’d probably go topless to the supermarket.”

   “I never tried that,” I laughed, “but it would sure be hell around the

frozen foods, wouldn’t it?”

   “Not to mention the old ladies who like to squeeze the melons,” Eric

added with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

   We all laughed at the image I suddenly realized that the lascivious

direction the conversation was taking was actually turning me on. Eric turned

another page in the book and reflexively, Karen and I both leaned over to get

a better look at the photo. It was a beautiful photograph of two nude women

lying face to face on a satin sheet, looking into each other’s eyes,

tentatively touching the other’s nipple.

   “God,” Karen whispered, “this is really turning me on.”

   “You, too,” I giggled self consciously?

   “Yeah. I’ve never done anything like that. Have you?”

   “No,” I said, shaking my head.

   And then Eric looked at both us with a sly smile forming on his lips and

said, “Mickey, do you have a Polaroid camera?”

   More than surprised, shocked, really, Karen and I glanced at each other

knowing exactly what Eric had in mind and we both simultaneously seemed to

shrug ‘why not?’. I took another healthy sip of Brandy, and smiling

sheepishly, replied, “No, but I do have a video camera.”

   It all seemed to happen so quickly and easily. We moved into the bedroom

and, giggling like nervous teenagers, we set up the camera and tripod and

jury-rigged some lights. As Eric finished setting up, I went back to the

kitchen for yet another bottle of wine. Alone in the kitchen, I desperately

tried to collect my thoughts and composure, but I was so excited and aroused,

I felt I was moving in a daze.

   Shaking, I returned to the bedroom, ready for anything. Eric had taken

off his jacket and was finishing adjusting the camera while Karen turned down

the quilt on my kingsize brass bed. In anticipation of my night alone with

Eric, I had changed the bedclothes into my sexiest satin sheets and

pillowcases.

   Throwing both our feminist politics and our caution to the wind, Karen

and I agreed that Eric would be the “director” and we would be his willing

“porn stars”, obeying his every “creative” whim. And Eric wasted no time

exercising his authority as he ordered us on to the middle of the bed. Karen

and I nervously but dutifully complied and sat there, giggling with more than

a little nervous embarrassment, as Eric focused the camera.

   He had turned the television toward the bed and, like a TV monitor, I was

able to watch us come into focus as Eric zoomed in and out trying to get just

the right framing. Karen and I both mugged playfully for the camera, until

Eric, taking charge, said, “Okay, ladies, show time. Let’s start with a kiss.”

   This was it. My mouth went dry and I could hear my pulse pounding in my

ears. Neither Karen nor I were sure how to proceed and we just looked at each

other, hesitating.

   “Oh, come on,” Eric chided us, “how tough can it be to kiss? You’ve both

done it before.”

   He was right. How difficult could it be? And Karen’s sexy, pouty mouth

was certainly eminently kissable. So, swallowing hard, I leaned into her and

slowly brushed my lips across hers. In that moment, I learned two crucial

things about myself. First, I was not as sexually liberated as I thought I

was, and second, the thought of actually making love to this beautiful,

gentle, young woman while her incredibly sexy husband photographed us made my

head spin and my heart pound in excitement. And then Eric’s voice invaded my

thoughts.

   He had stopped the camera and was looking at us, shaking his head with a

smirk on his face. “You call that a kiss? C’mon, Kar, I’ve seen you kiss Bogie

with more passion than that.”

   “Who’s Bogie,” I asked curiously?

   “She…she’s our cat,” Karen giggled.

   Eric and I both laughed and he said, “See…what’s the difference?

Kissing a pussy is kissing a pussy, isn’t it?”

   Karen laughed, too, and blushed, averting her eyes from mine. Still

laughing nervously myself, I put my hand on her shoulder, reassuring her as

Eric went back to the camera and rewound it.

   “Okay ladies,” Eric shouted with mock authority, “once more, from the

top, this time with feeling.”

   I smiled at Karen and whispered, “do you want to?”

   She smiled back, nervously, and nodded. I could tell from her look and

from breathing that she wanted to as much as I did so, assuming a more

aggressive role, with my hand still on her shoulder I leaned in and kissed her

again, allowing my lips to linger a little longer and harder on hers than

before. We both closed our eyes and savored the moment.

   I had never sexually kissed another woman before and now nearly cursed

myself for not doing it earlier. Karen’s lips were so incredibly soft, so

totally unlike kissing a man. I couldn’t believe how exciting and arousing it

was. Reluctant to break the spell, I slowly and sensually moved my lips back

and forth across Karen’s, feeling the softness of her mouth as she kissed me

back.

   “That’s it, that’s right,” Eric encouraged us, “kiss her, baby, turn her

on.”

   It was good to hear Eric’s voice, reminding me of his omniscient

presence, but neither Karen nor I really needed much more encouragement.

Growing more excited, our mouths opened simultaneously as we tentatively,

hesitantly sought each others tongues. As we slowly and tenderly explored each

other’s mouth, Eric continued offering encouragement, but his words and his

voice just seemed to fade in the distance as I began losing myself in Karen’s

heavenly mouth. My nipples stiffened precipitously and I could feel the

familiar tingle of my juices welling up deep, deep within my womb and begin to

flow like icy-hot lava down the walls of my tunnel. I didn’t want this to end

and prayed that Karen felt the same way. Then, as I drew her warm, wet tongue

deep into my mouth and sucked it, I heard her whimper faintly and I knew, I

knew she wanted it as desperately as I did.

   After what seemed a lifetime, we finally tore our lips apart and just

looked at each other somewhat astonished. Her lips were glistening with my

saliva as I’m sure mine were from hers. And then we just laughed and hugged

each other, turning our faces to Eric for his approval.

   “How was that,” I finally gushed, trying to catch my breath?

   “Not bad, not bad, uh, let’s try it again from another angle.” Eric was

so turned on, he could barely speak. The bulge in his jeans had grown

perceptibly and it was impossible for him to conceal it. But comfort triumphed

over embarrassment and he finally just shrugged and laughed and reached down

to his groin to rearrange the position of his cock. And then, trying to act

casually, said, “Okay, ladies, come on, where were we?”

   “In heaven,” I responded.

   “Then shall we return?”

  “Yes, let’s,” I whispered, more to Karen than Eric, and I turned to kiss

her again.

   The ice had been broken with our first kiss and this time we just melted

into each other’s mouth. Our tongues quickly began their urgent dance again

and this time Karen sucked mine into her hot mouth. Our passions grew quickly

and in a matter of seconds, Karen was whimpering again, trying to draw more

and more of my tongue into her hungry mouth.

   “Yeah, right, beautiful,” Eric whispered, “okay, Karen, put your hand on

Mickey’s tit.”

   Still kissing passionately, Karen hesitated and then slowly reached up

with her free hand and barely laid the palm of her hand against the side of my

breast with her fingers nearly touching my back. I could feel the warmth and

moisture of her hand through my flimsy silk blouse and I loved the softness of

her touch. Wanting more, I turned my body against her hand, filling it with

the fullness of my breast. Karen whimpered again and just held it lightly.

   “Christ,” Eric exclaimed. There was no doubt he was as excited as we

were. “Okay, now squeeze it, baby, go ahead, squeeze it.”

   And Karen did. Lightly, gently, wonderfully. I moaned softly, deep into

her mouth, and she squeezed my tit harder. I laid my hand on top of hers,

guiding it up to my pounding nipple and we caressed it together. But it was

not enough. I reached up, pulled my blouse open and exposed my naked breast to

her touch and Karen’s fingers glided over it as if she was polishing a

fragile, cherished possession.

   My desire for Karen became overwhelming. Whatever women did to other

women, I wanted. I wanted to feel her body next to mine, holding me, squeezing

me, becoming part of me. Reluctantly, I broke our kiss, smiling as Karen’s

lips hungrily sought to recapture mine and she groaned a childlike groan of

disappointment. She had a glazed, angelic expression on her face and could

barely catch her breath. I’m sure I was the same.

   “I want to make love to you,” I breathed and began unbuttoning the last

few buttons of my blouse.

   Karen nodded, unable to speak or catch her breath, and removed her hand

from my breast. As I pulled my blouse off and untied the belt of my skirt, we

kept searching each other’s eyes, ignoring Eric, who, at this point was

strangely silent. With my blouse off and my opened skirt barely draped over my

stocking-tops, I reached for Karen’s sweater. Without a word, she raised her

arms and allowed me to pull it up over her head in one motion.

   Karen’s breasts, although much smaller than mine, were exquisitely shaped

and very firm. Her nipples, which were as hard as rosy red marbles, pointed

upwards from the upper slope of her breasts rather than the tips. “They’re

beautiful,” I whispered to her, drawing my fingertips down her chest to her

stiff, white tipped nipples and guided my fingers around the puffy, burgundy

red circles of her swollen areolas.

   “Pinch them, Mickey,” Eric suddenly sputtered, focusing the camera into

a closeup of Karen’s nipples that filled the TV screen, “pinch ’em, she loves

that.”

   Following Eric’s instructions, I cupped Karen’s lovely tits in my hands

and slid my thumbs and forefingers up to her nipples, capturing them and

squeezing them gently. Karen shut her eyes and groaned loudly and I leaned in

to kiss them. Karen whimpered as I kissed first her left nipple and then her

right, noticing how truly sensitive they were.

   A few moments later, I relinquished her nipples and let my fingers drift

further down her taut body to the waistband of her jeans, unbuttoned it and

struggled to get the zipper down. But because we were still sitting in the

middle of the bed, getting it down gracefully was absolutely impossible and we

both laughed nervously.

   Karen smiled and whispered, “Let me do it.” And scrutinizing my eyes, she

got up and stood on the bed next to me and teasingly unzipped her fly. “Now

try it.”

   Grasping the waistband, I wriggled the tight jeans over her hips and slid

them down her slender legs. As I did, her tiny sheer white bikini panties slid

partially down her hips too, unintentionally exposing a fringe of pubic hair.

Karen’s first instinct was to grab her panties, but then, after a moment’s

hesitation, instead of pulling her panties back up, she subtly turned her body

toward me and sensuously slid them down her legs.

   Standing over me as she was, Karen’s pussy was no more than six inches

from my eyes. And it was beautiful. Except for a small tuft of wispy, baby

fine blonde hair on top, her cunt was as hairless and smooth as the day she

was born. And I was fascinated by it, transfixed by the sheer, floral beauty

of her thick, pouty vaginal lips glistening with her sweet, fragrant juices. I

don’t know what possessed me, but I couldn’t control myself. My hands went up

behind her and I caressed her small, firm ass. Then, suddenly, I pulled her

hips forward and slowly brushed my lips through her soft pubic patch.

   Even more surprised than I was, Karen lost her breath and shuddered. She

had to grasp my head to keep from falling, but rather than move away, she

thrust her hips forward, pushing her cunt harder against my mouth and I

brazenly kissed and nibbled her wet pussy, inhaling her thick, rich, feminine

aroma. It was my very first taste of another woman’s cunt. And I was hooked.

Wanting so much more, I withdrew my lips from hers, grabbed her hands and

eased her back down on the bed next to me. As I did, my untied skirt fell

open, finally exposing my flared, sopping pussy to Eric, Karen and the camera.

But I was too far gone to care.

   Unlike Karen’s, my puss is blanketed with an inordinate tangle of thick

black pubic hair. When I was younger, I used to trim it into a neat triangle,

but so many lovers had told me how much they loved my copious bush, I just let

it grow naturally. And now, framed by my lace garter belt and stocking tops,

its effect was not lost on Eric and Karen.

   When Eric saw it, he exclaimed, “Oh, shit,” and nearly knocked over the

camera trying to focus in on it.

   Our passions momentarily diverted, we both got up on our elbows and

glanced over to Eric as he valiantly tried to rearrange his massive prick

trapped in his jeans. From the outline on his crotch, I could only imagine the

size of the monster he had hidden away and wondered how petite little Karen

could possibly accommodate him.

   As Karen lovingly caressed my tits, she glanced dewey-eyed at her husband

and smiled. “Honey,” Karen breathed, “why don’t you just take them off. At

this point I doubt Mickey would mind, would you?”

   “Hardly,” I confirmed, barely looking at Eric as I concentrated on the

wonderful feeling of Karen’s hands on my tits.

   “Bless you, lady,” Eric exclaimed and in a flash, he pulled off his

shirt, unsnapped his jeans and pulled them off, literally sighing with relief.

   When I finally looked back at Eric, I thought I had died and gone to sex

heaven. Eric had the most incredibly beautiful body I had ever seen. His wide

chest was tight and smooth and muscular and tapered to his perfectly flat

stomach and narrow waist. And he had a great ass: high and round and tight.

But what really took my breath away was his cock. Under his jeans, Eric was

wearing a skimpy black nylon thong pouch that did little more than support his

huge balls and direct his stiff prick upwards. But his gorgeous, ebony pole

was so big, at least six or seven inches of it protruded straight up, out of

the pouch, practically reaching his naval.

   I literally gasped in astonishment. I tried not to stare, but couldn’t

help myself. I had never, never in my life been this aroused.

   Karen caught me staring and it was her turn to smile slyly. “Like you

said before,” she gloated between short, excited breaths, “nothing beats

quantity and quality.” And then, teasing my incredibly sensitive nipples

between her fingers, she leaned into me and once again we began kissing

passionately.

   What followed for the next forty-five minutes was a complete blur to me.

If it wasn’t for the video tape which I have watched countless times, I

couldn’t possibly remember the details. But the joy that ensued, the absolute

ecstasy of it is still, to this day, unforgettable.

   Completely ignoring Eric and the camera, Karen and I kissed incessantly,

hungrily, passionately and then just slowly and sensuously melted into each

other, groaning and whimpering we were both just this side of sobbing for joy.

Our stiff, acutely sensitive nipples met, rubbed each other and then our tits

crushed together. Our bodies glistened with silky perspiration as we squeezed

each other, rolling on the bed our bellies touched, our legs intertwined, our

pubic bones began grinding together, our juices mingled, and still we kissed.

Our hands slid down one another’s sweat dampened back and we cupped and

squeezed each other’s ass. This was what love making was intended to be.

   We stopped kissing only to catch our breath, but our bodies stayed

entwined, breast to breast, belly to belly, cunt to cunt. Looking deep into

each other’s glazed eyes, we both knew how much we wanted each other, but

neither of us could verbalize it. So I made the first move.

   Pulling away from Karen, I began kissing and nibbling and licking my way

down her beautiful body. Her hands left my ass and she placed them gently on

my head, guiding my descent. My mouth moved savagely around her tits, licking,

lapping, sucking. I found one of her nipples and drew it deep into my mouth,

flicking my tongue over the tip, feeling the pounding pulse beat in her nipple

with my lips. Gently, I bit her nipple, but as my teeth cautiously sank into

her rigid bud, she moaned so loudly I thought I had hurt her, but then she

began gasping the word “yes, yes, yes” over and over again. And I did the same

to her other nipple.

   With her hands still on my head, Karen pushed me lower. I began squeezing

and tugging her nipples between my fingers as I trailed my tongue down her

flat, salty stomach, stopping at her little pubic tuft. But Karen’s hands were

insistent, pushing, urging my face lower as she parted her thighs widely in

anticipation. The sweet, pungent aroma of her juices filled my nostrils,

overwhelming me. For a moment, I just stared at her beautiful cunt, watching

her fragile, inner lips opening like a blooming rose covered in dew. And I

knew I had to have her.

   Shifting my position, Karen raised her knees and I moved between them,

caressing her soft inner thighs with my hands. I parted her legs even wider

and slowly lowered my head between them. I then slid my hands beneath her ass,

raising her hips slightly, and covered her pussy with my waiting, eager mouth.

And as if it had a mind of its own, my tongue slowly, tentatively invaded her

burning hot, velvety smooth slit. It was incredible. It was my first taste of

pussy and I savored every nuance of it.

   Closing my eyes, I slowly drew the tip of my tongue up her labia and then

all the way down to her little pink, puckered asshole. Karen screamed. Her

entire body shuddered. Her hands left my head and slid beneath my mouth she

pried her lips apart and pushed her cunt against my mouth urging me to move

deeper into her.

   Imagining my tongue was some fantastic cock, I began screwing her with

it, rotating my mouth and tongue hard against her velvety soft pussy as I

burrowed deeper and deeper into her, grinding into her tight, hot tunnel. I

closed my mouth around her hole and began sucking her sweet, slippery juices.

Karen screamed again and I moaned in empathy, knowing exactly what she was

feeling. Her hands flew back and she began thrashing wildly, her whole body

bucking as she rotated her hips harder and harder against my mouth.

   Karen was on the verge of cumming and I was never so determined in my

life to make a lover cum. Still lathering her sweet, sensitive slit, I moved

my hands up and slowly worked my middle finger into her. My God was she tight,

much tighter than I was. The hot, dripping walls of Karen’s tunnel seemed to

grasp and hold my finger as I rotated it deeper and deeper into her and her

hips gyrated wildly against it. Karen groaned loudly, animalistically, urging

me on. Still finger fucking her, my lips found her inflamed clit and I drew

the warm, slippery bud into my mouth. Furiously, I flicked my tongue over it,

back and forth, around and around I was lost in a virtual feeding frenzy.

   Each breath Karen drew became louder and more demanding. Her thighs

suddenly clamped so hard on my head my ears rang. Her hands clawed and pulled

my hair. And then, as if time stood still, Karen drew in one long, loud,

screaming breath and froze, her entire body went rigid, waiting, waiting,

waiting…and then she came, screaming, groaning, whimpering, losing all of

her breath at once. And then she came again, crying, locking my head between

her soft thighs.

   Completely drained, we both rested for a moment, trying as best we could

to breathe. Karen’s drenched pussy was still so sensitive, even the slightest

movement of my head caused her entire body to shudder and tremble. A few

moments later, she parted her thighs and I felt her hands on my head, pulling

me up. I slid up her sweat glistening body, folding myself into her waiting

arms and kissing her gently. Karen pulled away slightly and her tongue washed

over my face and lips as she licked her own juices from my flushed skin.

Neither of us could talk. It wasn’t necessary.

   As we lay, body to body, pressed together in pools of perspiration, I

knew I never wanted this night to end. And then I felt Eric’s firm hand on my

ass…and joyfully realized that the night was just beginning. But that’s

another story…

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