Loading...Oh god, I was so horny.
I was watching dirty movies whenever I wasn’t at school, I was masturbating for hours every night. I’d sit in the lecture hall, twirling a shiny, jet-black curl of hair, eyes not registering my pathology professor droning away. While my classmates scribbled notes furiously on either side of me, I would be concocting daydreams filled with big cocks, silk sheets, and the wild animal humping. I had been fantasizing about sex so much I was hardly paying any attention to my ten classes.
That’s right, ten classes — such is the life of a medical student. But just because we’re busy doesn’t mean we don’t have needs, special needs that need special attention…
It wasn’t that I wasn’t getting any action at all. I had gotten engaged over the summer to lovely man my parents introduced me to at a family gathering. He was kind and thoughtful, successful and ruggedly good-looking. We became good friends very quickly, and with our parents’ encouragement, we decided to get engaged. You might wonder at the quickness of it, but arranged marriages are quite common in my family, and I have never been the romantic type. Ali and I were both very pleased that we had found someone we’d like to spend the rest of our lives with. I thought that he was probably one of the only men that could ever make me happy.
After the engagement, we were finally allowed to spend time alone together, which I hoped meant that we could safely fool around a bit. Whenever we did have time to meet between our respectively busy schedules, there was plenty of snuggling, kissing, and sometimes light petting, but never anything more than that. We both came from conservative immigrant families, and as much as I might want it, there would be no sex before marriage. Too bad for me, the closet nympho/horny virgin.
One particularly desperate night just before the fall semester had begun, I was dying to be fucked, so horny that I couldn’t keep my hands off Ali as we made out on the couch in front of The Daily Show. He had spent the day helping me move into my new apartment near the medical school. Watching him lifting boxes all day, all sweaty and oh so sexy, it was all I could do to keep from running to the bathroom and wanking off. My poor aching pussy was screaming for release. We had taken our (separate) showers and eaten a take-out dinner in front of the tube. Now we were cuddling in each others’ arms watching Jon Stewart, usually my favorite show, and the last thing I could think about was politics.
“Babe?” I ventured.
A kiss on the forehead — how chaste, I thought ironically. “Yeah sweetheart?”
“You know what I can’t wait for? More than being a bride or having this wedding?”
“Hm?”
“I can’t wait for our wedding night.”
A squeeze around the shoulders. And silence.
Another try, then. “I can’t wait for us to make love for the first time. It’s been all I can think about for the last few days.” I looked into his eyes, yearning to see some of my lust reflected there in the glare of the television. There was something there, but I couldn’t quite discern what.
“Meets, you know, I think it’s going to be the most amazing night of our lives.” A peck on the nose — this particular habit is one of the many reasons why I’m ecstatic that we found each other. He looked deeply into my brown eyes, probably seeing more there than I’d care to have him know just yet. “You are a spectacular woman, Meetra, and believe me, I can’t wait to be your man in every,” another nose-peck, “sense,” this time, a real kiss, “of the word.”
He smiled a slow, easy smile that went straight to my soul, before he kissed me deeply, his hands wound in my hair. I kissed him back urgently, more brazenly than I ever had before, physical need driving my actions. I teased his lips with my tongue, and I heard his breathing start to quicken. My hands were fluttering everywhere, now on his shoulders, now his waist, now pulling one of his hands down from my neck and pressing it on my breast. My breath sucked in from the electricity of it; I had never felt another person’s touch there, and the feeling was almost too heady to bear. I gasped, and Ali sucked on my lips, just grazing them with his teeth.
Words had long since abandoned me, and I was feeling nothing but pure lust. Every time Ali’s fingers brushed my swollen nipples, pertly poking through bra and t-shirt, I moaned from the icy shiver running down my back. I rejoiced to feel his heart pounding so close to my own, to feel his crotch harden against my leg. Would I now finally get release? But the more I writhed and pressed against him with years of repressed sexual energy, the more he seemed to slow down and pull away. Was he some kind of saint? Why had I chosen to marry such a prude, I thought angrily. But then again, I am a rather insistent person. I thought I had an idea to bring him around.
I had just managed to get my hand inside the waistband of his jeans before he pulled it right back out again.
“Um, why don’t we wait on that for a bit? Don’t you think it’ll make it that much more special on the big night?”
No!!! I want your dick now, I want you to fuck me now! my soaked panties screamed. But I heard my voice say, “Well, yeah, I guess you’re right. I do want our first time to be perfect — so I guess we can take it slow.” Reluctantly, I let him pull me up into a more upright position. So much for building honesty in the relationship. I respected him for his restraint, but I was still so horny, damn it! I crossed my arms over my throbbing nipples and felt like crying from shame and frustration, but I felt Ali watching me, so I forced myself to stay composed.
I think he must have read the lust and disappointment in my eyes, because before I knew it, Ali was kissing me full on the mouth, with a little tongue for the first time ever, and surprise! Ali slid a hand over my throbbing crotch and began to grind me slowly through my jeans.
I almost sobbed with relief as we continued to kiss deeply, Ali’s urgency now beginning to match my own. I pulled him closer to me, moaning as I felt the weight of his body above mine, his straining erection on my thigh. My legs spread and drew up reflexively, at least one managing to wrap around his beautifully shaped ass. Ali pulled away from my mouth, propping himself on one arm, the other busy between my legs. I dug my fingernails into his ripped arms, and he slowly rubbed the tent of his jeans against the inside of my thigh as he watched my face.
We were rocking rhythmically now, my hips bucking to match his hand. Obviously, I was so randy at this point that it didn’t take much to put me over the edge. I arched my pussy against his hand as he rubbed, grinding my clit against the inseam of my jeans, and I came hard and fast, too fast, whimpering into Ali’s starched collar, already wishing it wasn’t over so soon.
As my fiancé discreetly excused himself to the restroom to take care of his own business, I was left on the sofa, nipples and clit throbbing, unfulfilled and unsated. The muskiness of my crotch and the freshness of his laundered shirt still filled my nose.
Several months later, I still hadn’t seen Ali since our dry-humping session in August. He had gone overseas to work on a business deal, and I was counting the days until our winter wedding. I had come to accept the fact that my marriage night would probably be the next time I had any hope of getting any. My attention was so diverted between the wedding planning and fantasizing about sex that it was a wonder I didn’t fail any classes. My secret vibrator (known to some as ‘electric toothbrush’) was all that kept me from flying out to Dubai and humping Ali, wherever he was. But I was still just as horny, just as dissatisfied since August.
What was unusual were my fantasies. Since I had met Ali, these had been rigidly restricted to imagining my wedding night, wild lovemaking in elaborate positions, with the only variables being my choice of lingerie and the particulars of our honeymoon suite. Now I found myself reverting to those secret fantasies I had concocted in college as I lay in bed touching myself, listening to my suitemate being fucked by her boyfriend on the other side of the wall. Night after night, I imagined myself on the other side of the wall with Jane, tasting her lithe body and feeling her touch on my skin.
And she was such a tease, too! Jane hardly ever wore pants around the suite so I always had to consciously find somewhere else to focus my eyes when we chatted in the hallway, painfully conscious of the shape of her pussy through her cotton panties, surreptitiously looking for a stray brown curl. Jane was blessed with one of those effortlessly toned bodies; she had been a dancer when she was younger, and even though she didn’t keep up with it in college, her muscled legs and firm butt maintained her physique.
Along with pants, Jane didn’t care for bras either; and this was nearly my downfall. She had the most succulent breasts I had ever seen on a woman, perfectly sized and shaped, with plump upturned nipples that were always poking through her t-shirt. I would get turned on just thinking about them. Being a good four inches taller than her I had to consciously remind myself not to look down her shirt. Not that I always listened.
On more than one occasion, I had the pleasure of seeing Jane nude. Being suitemates we shared a bathroom with four other girls, and because of our schedules we’d often cross paths there at night. As I would go in to wash my face and brush my teeth before bed, she would usually be just getting out of the shower. And it was perfectly comfortable for her to be standing there on the mat in front of the shower stalls, dripping water off her beautiful body, her usually nut-brown hair dark and sexily slicked back, carrying on a conversation with me as though she weren’t glisteningly wet and stark naked. I never knew what to do when this happened; she always acted so sophisticated and nonchalant, not bothering to turn away or cover herself as she toweled off, not realizing that i was staring at the curve of her breasts, the shadow of her thatch. I would stand there red-faced, unable to take my eyes off her, toothpaste dribbling down my chin as I pretended to listen to what she was saying.
On those lonely college nights when I’d diddle myself as Jane moaned with her lover next door, I’d imagine that one night, when I walked to into the bathroom and heard the shower running, I’d be brave enough to strip and get into her stall with her. She wouldn’t look surprised, but rather, she would smile at me nymph-like, her eyes lazily running up and down my naked body. I’d allow her a few moments’ glance, but then I’d grab her body and push her against the tiled wall, kissing her mouth ferociously and kneading her perky tits as she only half-heartedly mewed her objection. I would make her whimper as I pinched her swollen pink nipples, suck her neck at the soft spot behind her ear. Jane would be clawing at my back all the while, gripping the curve of my ass-cheeks, searching the dark thatch between my legs with her fingers.
As my kisses became less frenzied and more deep, she would gently push me away, and begin to nuzzle my breasts as the hot water still beat down on us. Slowly Jane would begin to suck them, starting with only the nipple but taking more and more in, attending with her hand to one as she sucked the other. It would feel delicious, the simultaneous sensation of her tongue flicking in ways I never thought possible on one nipple as her hand roughly squeezed my other tit. I would watch her work her dainty mouth on my plump brown nipples, both of us glistening with water, my golden-brown skin complemented by her smooth ivory.
As I arched my neck and moaned with pleasure, she would run a finger slowly down my soft stomach, looking up from my breasts into my thickly lashed eyes with her green ones, turned almost black with desire. My breath would catch and I’d suck my stomach in as she touched my navel, and she would pause there for a moment, smiling at me almost maliciously before trailing her finger tantalizingly downwards again. Her finger would slip between my folds, slick with water and my juices, and using her hand to spread my pussy she would slowly, tantalizingly begin to lick, teasing my clit with her tongue. My breath would become ragged as the sensation overtakes my body, and I would gyrate my hips to rub my pussy harder against her hot tongue. As she sucked my engorged clit I would come, grasping her shoulders for support, almost passing out from the orgasm, saying her name again and again as my eyes looked towards heaven…
At this point in my fantasy one hand would be moving lightning-speed over my wet, throbbing clit, the other squeezing my tit, and I would come every time, sometimes in synchrony with Jane and her lover on the other side of the wall, always afraid she would hear my cries.
It was this fantasy that I had been revisiting every night when I came home after school to my empty apartment.
Today, one of my old childhood friends was throwing me a bridal shower in her stylish downtown apartment. Weeks ago she had asked for a list of people she should invite, and I had included Jane, without any real hope of seeing her there. We had somewhat fallen out of touch in the last few years, phone calls being limited to birthdays, the last meeting for coffee several years ago. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d gotten engaged.
Sarah, the shower’s hostess, had written on the invitation that the dress code was ‘risque,’ which, I supposed, meant that we were supposed to wear the outfits our mothers thought we didn’t have, those sexy little numbers bought on a whim but never actually worn out by us conservative, modest girls. I was curious to see what the girls that I had grown up with would wear, having rarely seen most of them without a headscarf. For myself, I chose a sheer black chiffon tunic, embroidered beautifully around the neck and sleeves with shimmering silver threads in a delicate floral pattern. It was a gift from my parents from the last time they visited India, intended to be worn with a full coverage slip, pants, and a modest scarf. For the shower, I wore it with only a black demi-cup lace bra and skinny black satin trousers.
I stood in front of the mirror, trying the outfit on with tall silver patent heels. I was somewhat surprised by my reflection; my body looked sleeker, leaner, and my face was glowing. I guessed the pre-wedding workout regimen was working. I stayed in front of the mirror for a few minutes, studying myself. The effect of the sheer black tunic was dynamite; it showed only enough to be sexy, but not enough to be trashy. I turned around to see the curve of my butt in the tight pants, flirtatiously rounded out a bit from the high heels, and I admired the sleekness of my hair, naturally wavy, and falling just right around my face. The heels and skinny pant made me look even taller than my five feet eight inches.
What pleased me most, however, was the effect of the scalloped, unfinished lace edges of my bra as they lay on my skin. What had been trimmed from my body on the treadmill was not lost from my chest; my breasts were as plump and full as ever, large but still proportional to my tall frame. I watched in the mirror as I did a sexy little dance for myself, my hands running through my hair and over my body. I smiled as I realized that I had never felt this sensual, this sexual before in my life, and that amazingly, it was somehow having an effect on my appearance.
“If only Ali were here to see this,” I thought to myself. “I wonder how long his self-control would last then.”
The wedding shower was unremarkable; Sarah did her best to impress my college and medical school friends with hired waitresses and dainty mocktails. Everyone had interpreted the dress code differently, some girls with plunging necklines and short dresses, others, inexplicably, wearing their old prom dresses. Though I didn’t quite believe them, all my girlfriends told me I looked beautiful, and that Ali was lucky to have me. They were all full of saucy advice and lewd jokes about my wedding night, and after five minutes, I had almost completely tuned out. Not surprisingly, Jane had not come, and as the evening progressed, it became even harder and harder to act the blushing bride, gracious and glowing.
Finally, Sarah announced that it was time to open gifts, and I breathed an internal sigh of relief since this almost definitely signified the end of the evening. I unwrapped the white and silver paper and held up the cursory filmy negligees and lacy thongs as my girlfriends giggled and twittered, making raunchy jokes and snapping photographs, swearing to never show anyone. After what seemed like hours, Sarah handed me the final gift, which was much heavier than the others and wrapped in a most un-weddingish paper, black with tiny pink hearts sprinkled across it. With a little curiosity I removed the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. There it was, a huge, pink strap-on dildo, sitting on a bed of black satin. I gasped, lifting it out of its nest by the leather harness and looked up at Sarah, my mouth wide open.
“It vibrates,” she said quietly to me, looking more mischievous than I had ever seen her before. All the girls were in an uproar about the hilarious prank gift Sarah had given me and they didn’t hear Sarah whisper in my ear, “It was the best gift I got at my shower, and my marriage is ten times better because of it. It’s not a joke, darling, and I hope you’ll both enjoy it.”
I was so shocked I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Who would have thought that little straight-laced religious Sarah was such a kink behind closed doors!
A few weeks later after a barrage of exams I barely managed to pass, I got a phone call from Jane. My heart beating a little faster than normal, I flipped open the cell.
“Hi Meetra, it’s Jane! Honey, I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it out to the shower, things have been pretty crazy lately.”
“Don’t worry about it Janie, believe me, you didn’t miss much. Where have you been? Is everything alright?”
As it turned out, everything was not alright. Jane had been on rocky territory with her boyfriend for the past few months, and apparently, it had all come to a head just before my wedding shower. She’d basically had to start her life over, look for a job and a place to live, buy a car, and take care of all the things herself that she had taken for granted when she was with him.
“Anyway, it’s been a horrible couple of weeks, but I so wanted to come to your shower. I had a gift and everything. But I’ll be passing through your town tonight on my way down to a job interview. If you’re not too busy, I could stop by and…”
Before she could finish her sentence, I said yes, and gave her directions to my apartment.
It was 8:30 pm that night, and I was pacing the apartment liked a caged panther, unable to sit still for a moment. I had spent hours that afternoon choosing an outfit to wear, finally deciding on a slim, chocolate knee-length skirt and a skin-tight turquoise jersey turtleneck, with my favorite brown heels. It took me another two hours to do my hair, trying it ironed straight and in a messy ponytail, but finally leaving it down and curling on my shoulders.
I couldn’t decide if I was excited to see Jane because she was my old friend, or if I was nervous because I wanted something more to happen. I couldn’t even calm myself down enough to think for a moment about what my feelings were exactly. Clearly, my horniness was clouding my thinking. At this rate, I would have to change my top because of the sweatstains. I was heading to the bathroom to put on more deodorant, when my phone rang.
“Hello??” I bleated anxiously into the receiver. I knew it was going to be Jane, calling to tell me she had changed her plans, that she wasn’t coming.
“Hey Meets! How are you, beautiful?” It was Ali, calming, reassuring Ali. I breathed again.
“Hi baby, I’m well. It’s so good to hear your voice. How are things in Dubai?”
“They’re going well, almost ready to wrap up here actually. I just had a free minute, so I thought I’d call you and tell you how much I miss you.”
“Aw, Jaani, I miss you too. Come home soon.”
“Don’t be too surprised if I show up in a couple of days. Gotta go, I love you.” And he was gone. I had forgotten how much I had missed him in all my pre-wedding craziness and in my insatiable horniness. We had gotten used to talking to each other on the phone every night until we fell asleep. In that moment I realized how much he meant to me, and I knew that he was right in forcing us to wait to make love until the moment was perfect. Suddenly, it meant that much to me too.
And just then, as I was smiling with the phone still in my hand, someone knocked at the door. Jane!
I dropped the phone and ran to the door to open it. Jane looked as ravishing as ever, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold. She was wearing a slim, gray tweed coat which came down past her knees, with a huge lumpy orange scarf wrapped around her neck. The fiery hue made her light brown hair gleam. We embraced, and as always, she kissed me on the cheek.
“Jane! It’s so good to see you, come in! Let me take your coat.” I helped her shrug it off, and as I was hanging it in the closet, I had a moment to stare at her as she walked into the sitting room. Always eclectic in her fashion sense, Jane was wearing a tight black sweater-dress which just barely covered her ass. A short green cardigan covered her shoulders, bringing out the light in her hazel-green eyes, and black stiletto-heeled boots came up to her knees. But what made her look so irresistibly sexy that night were her stockings, sheer black stockings with a seam running up the back of her legs, leading your eye straight to her butt. I could just see the lace tops start under the hem of her dress. How did she know stockings were my weakness? In fact, black stockings just like these were a part of the outfit I had planned for my wedding night, for Ali’s and my first time.
“This is a great place! How did you find it?” she asked, flinging her cardigan on the couch and crashing onto it, hands running through her chin-length hair, and from there our conversation was effortless. The years of interlude had not had an effect on our connection as friends, and it was as easy to talk to her as it had been in college, except for the distraction of her cleavage through a deep v-neckline.
We caught up with everything in our lives that we had missed since we last talked. I told her all about Ali and our plans for the wedding, and she told me the story of her horrible break up. We were still sitting on my couch, the same place Ali and I had dry-fucked just months ago, our empty coffee cups on the end table. I was sitting with my legs folded under me, sitting close next to Jane and holding one of her hands as she cried and told me how she had found that bastard of an ex with another woman in their bed when she came home from class one night.
“He saw me and they didn’t even stop. He just kept fucking her, grunting and grabbing her and looking at me the whole time, until they both came. And still looking straight at me, he goes, ‘Fuck you’re good, you dirty whore!’ And I couldn’t move, I was so shocked, I was rooted to the ground.”
“Oh Janie…”
“And when they were done, the little bitch got off him and walked right past me to the bathroom, smirking at me, his cum running down her leg. He was still looking at me, this awful grin on his face. And then he says to me, ‘Hey Janie, wanna come clean me off? Wanna taste another woman’s cum on your man’s cock?'” I couldn’t get my mouth to work enough to tell him to fuck off, so I just turned around and left.”
My eyes were filling with shame and anger for her. Who was this asshole who treated her like this? I squeezed Jane’s hand as she choked down a sob. “Oh God Jane, I’m so sorry. That’s so horrible! You poor, poor thing…”
“I couldn’t go back there after that. I left all my things there, everything, and I’m never going back for them because I never want to see his fucking face again.”
I rubbed her shoulder as she shook with emotion, thinking that even with swollen eyes and a puffy nose, Jane was breathtaking. How could any man not treat her like a queen?
“But I keep thinking, in the small dark corners of my head, that I must have done something wrong, something awful to someone, and that God punished me for it with this.”
“No Jane, you cannot think that. What Jared did to you was awful, but don’t you dare think for a second that you deserved it. You are wonderful and kind and beautiful, and you deserve someone who is worthy of you, not scum like Jared.” She finally stopped crying and looked straight into my eyes, her fingers interlaced with mine. I was reaching up and wiping the tears off her face with a tissue, when she suddenly grabbed my hand, and leaned forward and kissed me. Immediately the sleeping fire in me erupted, and my mouth opened, accepting the kiss and allowing Jane’s tongue to explore my mouth. My hands somehow found their way to the small of her back, pulling her body closer to mine.
Jane held my head, just as Ali had, as she darted her tongue around my mouth. We were both mewing with pleasure, with lust, as we kissed each other harder and rougher, biting each others’ lips. Before I realized what was I was doing, my hands were under her dress, caressing her firm bottom, which was unhampered by any underwear. Jane pushed me back so I was lying down on the sofa with my head was on the armrest, and she straddled me before she whipped off her dress, naked except for the stockings and boots. I had a split second glance of her bald, pink pussy before she leaned down and started kissing me again. And then suddenly, she stopped. I looked up at her, questioningly.
“Are you sure this is okay, Meets?” she asked, looking a little worried.
Seriously? “Just shut up and fuck me already,” I said, grabbing her head and attacking her mouth. But she pulled back again. What the fuck is it now, I thought angrily.
“No, wait. What about you and Ali? Won’t he…” But I cut her off this time.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him all about it. Maybe next time we do this, we’ll let him join us.” Jane still seemed a little hesitant, so I said, “Look, I’ve been fantasizing about this for years now. You’re my friend, and I love you, and I really want us to do this. Won’t you help out your poor, horny little friend?”
This seemed to be enough, and she smiled at me naughtily before leaning down to suck my lower lip, her hands snaking up under my top, massaging my erect nipples through the material of my bra. I couldn’t get enough of the feel of her naked body. Her skin was smooth and warm, and my hands roamed continually over its glorious curves. We continued to make out for a few more minutes, grabbing and caressing each other, before I suggested we move to the bedroom.
“Good idea,” said my brunette lover, as I followed her swaying ass into my bedroom. Instinctively, like a bear to honey, Jane went to my dresser, where the box with pink hearts was still laying open, untouched since I had put it there the night of the wedding shower. She lifted the strap-on out of the box and said, “Well well well, what do we have here? It’s almost like you knew this was going to happen. Like you planned it, you little slut.”
“Oh shut up, it was a bridal shower gift from Sarah. I never thought I’d actually use it,” I said, kicking off my heels and peeling the turtleneck up over my head.
“Until now, you mean. Honestly, I didn’t think Sarah had it in her. Well, I think we’ll put that away until later,” she said, laying the gleaming pink dildo back in its satin nest. Jane sat down on the edge of her bed and took her boots off, and was about to start on the stockings, when I stopped her.
“Um, Janie? If you don’t mind, could you leave those on? They look so sexy on you,” I said.
“Sure, Meets, whatever turns you on,” said Jane with a laugh as she got up and came over to help me off with my skirt, tits jiggling as she got on her knees behind me and unzipped me. I watched, mesmerized, in the full-length mirror on the closet door beside us. I stood there, wearing my flesh-toned bra and thong, with a gorgeous naked woman on her knees behind me, caressing and kissing my bare ass, making little sexy sounds in her throat. The scene made me soak through my thong in a second.
“Oh shit, Meets, you smell so fucking good,” purred Jane, as she nuzzled her face in my ass, her hands running up and down my smooth legs.
“Hurry up before I come right here,” I moaned, now rubbing myself through the wet thong. As I continued to watch in the mirror, Jane pulled the thong off me with her teeth, letting them fall around my ankles. Looking in the mirror, she traced the triangle of dark hair just above the cleft of my pussy with one finger. My heart was thumping audibly. Jane gave my ass another quick nibble before she stood up behind me to unhook my bra. She turned us so we were facing the mirror directly, and she pulled the bra forward off my arms, dropping it on the floor as my breasts sprung free into Jane’s waiting hands. We were body to body now, her arms reaching around to play with my tits as she sucked on my neck. I grabbed her hands and started squeezing them over my breasts and grinding my ass into her pussy at the same time.
Then finally, she moved her hands down to my pussy, watching in the mirror as she used one hand to spread me open, and the other to fuck me. I started whimpering and went weak in the knees, and I had to use one arm to brace myself on the closet door. It took her about five seconds to find my g-spot with her index and middle finger as she thrust in and out of me, and she rubbed all the while on my engorged clit with her thumb. My free hand was pinching and squeezing my tits as we swayed in front of the mirror. I could feel her hot wetness on my ass as we ground into each other. The feeling of her cool, silky stockings against my hot thighs was exquisite. As I got closer, Jane started biting my shoulder, murmuring softly, and finally, I came, the hardest and longest orgasm I had ever experienced, and as Jane told me afterwards, the first time I squirted as well.
I was so weak afterwards that Jane had to lead me over to the bed, still trembling, where I collapsed, sweaty and panting. She lay down next to me, sucking my wetness off her fingers. “Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely, “I really, really needed that.” “I know,” she said softly, pulling me close to her in an embrace, and we rested there for a few minutes, legs wrapped around each other, sweat and cum drying on our bodies in the cool air. When my heart had finally stopped hammering, Jane looked at me, brushing the hair out of my face as I caressed her leg, as it draped over my hip.
“Do you think you’re ready for some more?” Boy, was I ever.
My grin was all the answer she needed. She jumped up and grabbed the strap-on from its box on the dresser, examining it. “Hey Meets, did you know this is one of those ones that has the little vibrating nub on the inside, for the person that’s wearing it?” So that’s what Sarah had meant. She would like that, little pervert.
“Double the pleasure, double the fun, eh?” I said, stretching catlike on the charcoal gray cotton sheets I picked out soon after I first met Ali. I always found masculine bed-linens so sexy. I watched as Jane turned the vibrating nub on (Sarah, always thoughtful, had already loaded batteries), and then strapped the dildo into place. I saw her face change as the vibration touched her pussy. Her breathing deepened.
“Generally, I’d say we’d need some lube,” Jane said, a little breathlessly. “But, I think we’ll be okay this time.” I laughed as she climbed on the bed. She paused for a moment as she knelt in front of me. “Do you want to suck it before we start? I’d love to see you…” But before she could finish her sentence, my mouth was wrapped around the pink rubber penis, and I started sucking it right away, grasping Jane’s stockinged thighs for support. It wasn’t conscious, but in my mind I was somehow blowing Ali’s cock even though Jane’s hands were on my head, pumping it up and down on her prosthetic cock. I imagined that he was in the room, pumping his own shaft as he watched us, and the thought of this made me want Jane to fuck me, right away.
I gave the dildo a final suck, making a loud pop as I pulled it out of my mouth. I sat up and arranged myself on the pile of pillows at the head of my bed, so that I was leaning back but still upright enough to see clearly what Jane was about to do. I spread my legs open, placing a small cushion under my pelvis to angle it up a bit, and I saw Jane’s eyes drawn immediately to my pussy. She looked entranced.
“Are you ready to fuck me, Janie?” I asked, coquettishly, fingers playing with my nipples, dancing across my pussy, tasting my own juices, enjoying the look of lust in Jane’s eyes as she wanked her glistening would-be cock, eyes never leaving my wide-open pussy.
“Oh baby, fuck yes,” she growled, her voice surprisingly low and guttural. She scooched up on her knees and spread my thighs back even further. “I’m gonna fuck you till you scream with pleasure!” I purred as I watched her place the tip of the pink plastic penis on my clit, flicking it lightly, rolling in circles around it as I purred and moaned. The resistance must have been pushing the vibrating nub into her clit as well, because she was getting increasingly flushed, and her nipples were almost twice their usual size. I was getting wetter by the second.
Finally, Jane slipped her glistening cock into my virgin pussy, pressing firmly but slowly until I had taken in the entire six inches. I was breathless from the fullness. I had never hoped in my wildest fantasies that finally being fucked would feel this good. This was the feeling I had been dreaming of for so long. I almost came for the second time that night right then. “Oh my god, Janie, that feels so good…”
Jane was getting pretty close herself, her eyes, usually a clear hazel, were dark, dusky green. She leaned over to kiss me tenderly, not urgently or forcefully as our kisses had been so far, but gently, like a lover, like a friend, humming in her throat with pleasure. And as she kissed me, she slowly started to move the dildo in and out of my pussy, just a half inch or so at first, and then more and more until she was almost out to my entrance before she pummeled back the dildo back in. She propped herself up on her hands to give herself leverage, and my legs wrapped around her to pull her deeper inside on every thrust, my pelvis bucking to match her rhythm, her hips pumping against mine.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful breasts as they trembled from our lovemaking. I rolled her fat pink nipples between my fingers, squeezed and pulled them, kneaded and rubbed the smooth roundness of her breasts as she pounded me with increasing insistence. The sound of both of our moaning, of our thighs slapping against each other, the indescribable sensation of finally feeling like a woman, the way the light fell on our golden and ivory skin as we gyrated against each other, these memories will stay with me forever.
Jane’s pace suddenly increased and we both began to pant and grunt with every thrust. I hung in that moment for what seemed like hours, when finally, bolts of electric pleasure shot through me from head to toe, leaving hot trails on my skin where they had been, and then, as I grasped Janie’s shoulders and screamed, I erupted, vision and sound lost for who knows how many seconds or hours or days, as I shuddered and shrieked with the intensity of the orgasm. When I finally came to, Jane was still pounding away, sweat gleaming on her creamy skin. She was repeating my name, “Oh Meets, Meets, oh fuck Meets, oh fuck…” and as I pinched her nipples one last time, she came, howling and thrashing like a cat. Completely spent, she collapsed on top of me, dildo still in my pussy, my legs still wrapped around her.
I think we fell asleep that way.