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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