Author: admin

Lea stepped into the boutique and instantly regretted it.

The place was way too nice. Rose-gold racks, moody lighting, soft jazz humming under everything. The kind of boutique where bras weren’t just bras — they were lingerie. Intimate. Intentional. Something to show, not to hide.

She shouldn’t have come in. Not dressed like this — hoodie, leggings, scuffed sneakers. Not with her hair in a messy bun. Not alone.

But she was a freshman now. College was supposed to be about trying new things. Pushing limits. Finding yourself, right? And that’s what this was. Sort of.

There were other shoppers — not many, but enough to make her immediately conscious of the slight squeak her sneakers made on the polished floor. A woman in a sleek beige trench coat was browsing bralettes near the window. Two girls, maybe juniors or seniors, were laughing over a lace bodysuit in the back corner, their heads bent together like they were in on a joke she’d never get.

They looked like they belonged here. Comfortable. Like, lingerie didn’t make their skin prickle with embarrassment just from looking at it.

She told herself it was just a bra fitting. A normal rite of passage. Plenty of girls didn’t know their size until college. It didn’t have to mean anything.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d googled last night. Again.

“Am I just admiring her or actually attracted to her?”
“Signs you’re overthinking your sexuality.”
“Straight girls who kissed other girls and liked it.”
And then:
“How to tell if you’re bi?”

She’d read the forums with the brightness on her phone all the way down. Scrolled through threads about fluidity and “compulsory heterosexuality” like she was doing research for someone else. Not her. Definitely not her.

She hadn’t voiced any of this, of course. Growing up in a tiny rural town where everyone knew everyone else’s middle name didn’t leave a lot of space for exploring anything outside the script. Her high school sex ed class had barely mentioned girls at all, let alone what might happen if you liked them.

So no — she wasn’t not straight. Just… curious. That’s what people called it, right? Curiosity. A passing thought. A phase, maybe.

The curtain at the back of the boutique rustled.

“Hey there.”

The woman who stepped out might as well have walked off a magazine cover — all confident ease and long lines. Black jumpsuit, sleeve of soft floral tattoos down one toned arm, smile like she already knew all of Lea’s secrets. Her name tag read Cassi.

Lea’s stomach flipped. “Hi. I, um—” She forced herself to meet Cassi’s eyes. “I think I need a fitting.”

Cassi smiled, slowly and warmly. “First time?”

Lea nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a little,” Cassi said, then offered her hand. “I’m Cassi.”

“Lea,” she said, and tried not to wince at how breathless she sounded. Cassi’s grip was firm, her hand cool, soft to the touch— and Lea hated how much she noticed.

Cassi gestured toward the back. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

As she followed, Lea tried to keep her gaze respectful, neutral, casual — and failed completely. She didn’t even know what she was looking for — only that her eyes kept drifting over Cassi’s body. But whatever it was, she felt it tighten in her chest. Stir in her stomach.

It didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t.

The fitting room was smaller than Lea expected. Not tiny, but definitely not the spacious kind you see in movies. More like the kind she was used to — a simple mirror, soft overhead lighting, a narrow bench, and just enough floor space for two people if they stood close. Which, apparently, they would.

She stepped inside first, brushing past the curtain and feeling the warmth of the boutique muffled behind her. Voices drifted faintly from the front — a few customers browsing, laughing softly. It was early afternoon on a weekday, but they weren’t alone.

“Go ahead and take off your top and bra,” Cassi said from outside. “I’ll just be a second.”

Lea nodded even though Cassi couldn’t see her. She slipped out of her hoodie, folding it with more care than necessary, then reached behind her back to remove the pale gray bralette she’d been wearing since high school. It was soft from too many washes, stretched out, offering zero support — suddenly, it felt like a security blanket she was letting go of.

She stood in front of the mirror, arms crossed, heart thumping.

Cassi stepped in, brushing the curtain closed behind her, and in the small space, her presence filled everything. Her scent — warm, clean, with a hint of something earthy — settled around them.

“Okay,” Cassi said gently, letting the measuring tape slide from around her neck. “I’m going to get your band and cup size. You’ll feel my hands under your arms, just letting you know.”

Lea nodded, trying not to overthink how close they already were. Her bare arm brushed Cassi’s. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

Cassi worked quickly, but her touch was… intentional. Not inappropriate, not quite — just deliberate. The tape slipped under Lea’s bust, then around her back, Cassi’s fingers brushing along her ribs, her sides. The contact was cool, then warm. Too soft to be clinical. Too firm to ignore.

Lea inhaled sharply as Cassi adjusted the tape — not even a full breath, but enough that Cassi noticed.

“Breathe normally,” Cassi murmured. “If you can.”

Lea let out a tiny laugh, high and embarrassed.

“You’re not the first to get a little tense in here,” Cassi added, voice low, reassuring.

It wasn’t the words. It was the way she said ‘in here’. Like this space had its own rules. Its own intimacy.

She moved with confidence, checking measurements, then reaching behind her to hook a few bras over the wall’s single peg. Lace. Mesh. Soft colors that suddenly felt more like suggestions than garments.

“Let’s start with this one,” Cassi said, lifting a delicate lilac bralette. “Wireless, soft-cup. Pretty and comfortable.”

Lea took it with slightly unsteady hands.

“I’ll stay and help you adjust the fit,” Cassi added casually, already stepping back. “This one can be tricky the first time.”

Lea hesitated. “With me in here?”

“If you’re okay with that.”

She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t say no.

The boutique’s soft music filtered through the curtain. So did the murmur of other voices — not close, but close enough to remind her this was still public. This was still real.

She slipped the bralette on. It hugged her gently, unfamiliar but… good. Cassi stepped closer again, tugging at the band with practiced fingers, adjusting the shoulder straps with just enough pressure to make Lea suck in a breath she hoped wasn’t too obvious.

“You’re tense again,” Cassi said, eyes catching hers in the mirror. There was a flicker of something more now — curiosity? Mischief?

Or maybe that was just Lea, reading into everything.

But her skin burned where Cassi’s hands had touched. And in the small space between them, Lea could suddenly feel how little air was left.

Cassi adjusted one strap, then the other, her fingers skimming along the edge of the bralette where fabric met skin. The lace was barely there—soft, delicate — and so was Cassi’s touch. But it still sent sparks through Lea’s chest.

“This one fits well,” Cassi murmured, standing behind her now, both of them facing the mirror. “Supportive without flattening you out. You’ve got a really lovely shape.”

Lea swallowed hard. “Thanks,” she said, her voice thinner than she meant it to be.

Cassi met her eyes in the reflection. “You okay?”

Lea nodded too quickly, then slowed herself. “Yeah. Just… not used to this.”

Cassi smiled, soft and patient. “It’s a lot of touch. I know. If anything feels too much, just say.”

The reassurance helped. But it didn’t cool the heat rising under Lea’s skin. If anything, it fanned it.

Cassi reached around her again, brushing her hands beneath the edge of the band to test the fit. Her fingers skimmed along Lea’s ribs, then up—slowly, carefully—over the curve of one breast. It was a perfectly plausible adjustment. Completely justifiable. But Cassi’s hand lingered for a second too long.

Lea’s breath hitched.

Cassi felt it. She didn’t say anything, just moved to the other side, repeating the same gesture — but this time her pinky slid, just barely, along the underside of Lea’s breast.

“Still okay?” Cassi asked, voice quiet, her face close beside Lea’s now. She didn’t look at the mirror this time. She looked directly at Lea.

Lea’s mouth opened, then closed. She nodded. Again.

Cassi stepped closer, their bodies almost touching now. Her hand grazed up to adjust the strap on Lea’s shoulder, knuckles brushing her collarbone, her throat.

“You’re very responsive,” Cassi said, almost to herself.

Lea felt something coil low in her belly. Her nipples were tightening beneath the lace — she could feel it, and based on where Cassi’s hands were moving, she was sure Cassi could too.

The strap slipped slightly. Cassi reached for it again, tugging it back into place — but this time, as she adjusted it, her thumb traced along the top swell of Lea’s breast. Barely pressure. But intentional. And Lea didn’t pull away.

Cassi leaned in just a little closer. “You want me to keep helping?” she asked, low enough that Lea barely heard it over her own breathing.

Lea didn’t speak at first. She couldn’t.

She gave the smallest nod.

That was all Cassi needed.

The hand on her shoulder slid down, fingers trailing over the bralette’s front. She pressed gently, no longer pretending to adjust anything. Just touching. Feeling. Testing the edges of what was allowed.

Lea’s head tipped back slightly. The mirror showed her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and how her chest lifted with each breath.

Then Cassi’s palm curved around her breast fully, her thumb brushing over the lace-covered nipple. The contact was featherlight — but it sent a jolt straight through Lea, who gasped softly, then immediately covered her mouth with her hand.

Cassi smiled. Not smug. Just knowing.

“You’re not used to being touched like this,” she said, still watching Lea’s reflection.

Lea shook her head slowly. “No.”

“I can tell.” Her fingers slid again — slower this time — tracing the edge of the cup, then slipping beneath it. Skin to skin now.

Lea made another small, choked noise and turned halfway, instinctively seeking out more contact—or maybe just looking for permission. Cassi didn’t move away. Her free hand lifted, brushing a piece of hair behind Lea’s ear.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Cassi said softly, one thumb stroking the underside of Lea’s breast now.

Lea looked up at her. She meant to say something, anything — but the words got lost. Her eyes dropped to Cassi’s mouth, lingered. Then back to her eyes.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

Cassi’s smile deepened. Not triumphant — just warm. Assured. Like this was always where they were going to end up.

“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s be quiet.”

Outside the curtain, someone laughed. A hanger scraped against a rack. The boutique was still alive with polite shopping noises, a world away from the heat blooming in this cramped little room.

Inside, Cassi leaned forward — her mouth brushing Lea’s neck. And her hand slowly slid downward.

Cassi’s lips brushed Lea’s neck — a slow, open-mouthed kiss that made her knees go soft. Her hand, still cradling one breast, gave a gentle squeeze, thumb circling over her nipple now without pretense. No adjustment. No excuse.

Lea arched against her, mouth parting on a shaky exhale.

The lace of the bralette shifted as Cassi moved, bolder this time. The contact was too much and not enough; her body strung tight with nerves and need. She couldn’t believe this was happening — and yet, part of her had hoped for this since the moment she’d first laid eyes on Cassi. She just couldn’t admit it, even to herself.

Cassi made it easy to say yes without ever saying it out loud.

Behind the curtain, the boutique hummed quietly with life. A register beeped. Someone asked a question about sizing. But inside the fitting room, Lea’s world had narrowed to breath and skin and heat — and Cassi.

She was everywhere at once. Fingers slipping lower. Lips teasing the line of Lea’s jaw. One hand still pressing gently at the small of her back, keeping her close, keeping her steady.

Then Cassi paused.

Her breath tickled Lea’s skin as she asked, voice velvet-soft: “Do you want me to stop?”

Lea met her eyes in the mirror. Her reflection looked nothing like the girl who’d walked in fifteen minutes ago. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-bruised and trembling.

She shook her head. “No.”

Cassi smiled — not wicked, but pleased. Like she’d been waiting for that answer.

“Then be a good girl,” she whispered, “and stay quiet for me.”

Lea whimpered — already failing — and Cassi kissed her just beneath the ear, fingers sliding lower, sliding under the waistband of her leggings.

Lea sucked in a sharp breath—too loud—and pressed her lips together hard enough to hurt. Her pulse was already hammering, but now it stuttered, skipped, then raced faster when those fingertips dipped lower, brushing bare skin with featherlight intent.

There wasn’t enough space to move back, and nowhere to go even if she wanted to. The walls of the fitting room curved inward, the thick velvet curtain drawn shut but not sealed—just barely closed enough to offer privacy, not protection. Outside, heels clicked softly across marble floors. A hushed laugh drifted in from beyond the stall. Someone else was trying things on, someone normal, someone untouched by the way Cassi’s palm now cupped the curve of Lea’s hip, warm and sure.

She shivered.

“Shhh,” Cassi whispered against her neck, lips grazing the sensitive spot below her jaw. “Breathe.”

That was easy for her to say.

Lea tried. Inhaled through her nose, exhaled slowly through her mouth, but it came out unevenly, shallow. Every nerve felt lit up at once, like static crawling along her spine.

Cassi’s thumb traced the edge of Lea’s panties, just a whisper of pressure against the seam of her thigh. Not inside yet—not quite, but close enough that Lea felt the promise of it, the slow pull of anticipation low in her belly.

Her hips twitched instinctively, chasing something she didn’t know how to ask for.

“You’re so tense,” Cassi murmured, pressing another kiss just behind her ear. “Let me help you relax.”

Lea swallowed hard, nodding without speaking. Words felt impossible right now. Anything she said would crack open the fragile reality of this moment—that she was standing half-dressed in a fitting room, trembling under the hands of a woman who smelled like vanilla and clean linen, whose voice alone made her stomach flutter.

Cassi shifted slightly, angling them both toward the mirror mounted on the back wall of the stall. Lea saw herself first—wide eyes, flushed cheeks, lips parted and slightly swollen from where she’d bitten them. Then she saw Cassi behind her, dark hair pulled into a loose knot, smoky eyes watching her reflection with careful warmth.

“You okay?” Cassi asked softly, pausing her hand just above Lea’s hipbone.

Lea nodded again, slower this time. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she was. But she knew she didn’t want Cassi to stop.

“I’m okay,” she managed, voice barely audible.

Cassi slipped one finger into her panties, slow and deliberate, tracing the damp warmth where Lea was already trembling. When she found that aching spot — just a gentle brush of her fingertip — Lea gasped, the sound catching in her throat, barely muffled by the hand pressed to her mouth.

Her knees buckled.

Cassi caught her with an arm around her waist, steadying her. “Easy,” she breathed, watching her face in the mirror.

Lea couldn’t tear her eyes away from their reflection. Herself, wide-eyed and trembling, mouth parted in silent shock. And Cassi—so composed, so certain—as her fingers moved with gentle persistence, circling, teasing, slipping lower to dip between her folds.

It was too much.

It was exactly right.

Lea squeezed her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay quiet, to stay still, but Cassi hummed approval and kissed the side of her neck again, working her open with practiced patience.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Cassi whispered, voice velvety and low.

Lea whimpered, biting her lip hard enough to sting. Another customer passed outside the stall—soft footsteps, a rustle of silk—and she froze, heart pounding wildly.

Cassi slowed her strokes, waiting until the sound faded before resuming, deeper this time. Two fingers now, easing into her, curling just right.

Lea clenched around Cassi’s fingers, her breath hitching in her throat as another wave of sensation rolled through her. Each stroke, each press of Cassi’s knuckles against her sensitized skin sent sparks flaring behind her eyelids. Her body betrayed her—leaning into the touch, hips shifting unconsciously, chasing more even as her mind screamed that this was too fast, too much, too good.

Cassi adjusted her grip, tilting her head to watch Lea’s reaction in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” she murmured, her voice like honey poured over heat. “Watch how beautiful you are when you let go.”

Lea’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Cassi’s gaze in the glass. Her cheeks were flushed deep pink, her lips swollen-looking, parted with every stifled exhale. Sweat had gathered along her brow, her neck, the dip of her collarbone. She looked undone.

And Cassi looked satisfied.

The next thrust of Cassi’s fingers curled tighter, hitting somewhere deeper, softer, and Lea’s knees nearly gave out again. She turned her head sharply, burying a cry into the crook of her elbow, shoulders shaking.

“Shh,” Cassi whispered, pressing closer behind her, supporting her weight. “I’ve got you.”

Lea clutched at the front of the dressing room wall, nails scraping lightly against the wood paneling.

Cassi’s rhythm became steady, relentless—her fingers gliding in and out, each stroke pressing firmly against that sensitive, aching spot. Lea’s breaths fell into sync with Cassi’s movements, trembling harder with every heartbeat, her muscles tightening, toes curling helplessly inside her sneakers. She bit down on her forearm again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as the pleasure built, rising toward something she couldn’t control, couldn’t hold back.

Then Cassi leaned in, lips grazing her ear. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And in that moment, there was no room for denial. She wanted this. She wanted her.

Her body arched, pressing back into Cassi as the orgasm crashed through her—sharp and sweet and endless. Her legs shook, her breath caught, and a muffled sob escaped her throat as wave after wave pulsed through her core. No boy had ever made her feel like this—not this seen, not this known, not this safe while falling apart.

Cassi kept moving with her, slow and steady, guiding her through the final shudders of release. Only when Lea melted against her—boneless, breathless—did she ease her touch, hands gentle now, grounding.

Lea didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her body was too full of sensation, her mind still catching up to what had just happened.

The boutique murmured quietly on the other side of the curtain—distant hangers, soft voices, a world still turning as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.

But something had. Something inside her had shifted.

Cassi’s fingers trailed delicately up her thigh, then smoothed her panties back into place, easing her leggings up with slow precision, almost reverence. She tucked Lea in like she was putting something precious back together.

Lea’s breath finally began to settle. Her chest rose and fell in slow, shaky waves.

And when she opened her eyes—really opened them—her reflection was still there in the mirror. But something was different.

Her lips were parted, kiss-bitten. Her hair was slightly mussed. Her cheeks flushed with something deeper than embarrassment.

And her eyes—clear now, wide and searching—no longer looked confused.

There was no pretending anymore. No more Googling late at night or telling herself it didn’t mean anything.

She’d let a woman touch her. Had wanted her to. Had craved it.

And now she knew.

She was attracted to women.

No, maybe, no what-if.

Just: yes.

And it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel shameful. It felt like something she’d finally stopped resisting.

She looked at herself, heart still racing, and saw the truth written clearly across her face.

She wasn’t broken.

She wasn’t confused.

She was awake.

When Cassi finally moved, it was to step beside her, meeting Lea’s gaze in the mirror. A small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“You good?” Cassi whispered, her voice tender, gentle.

Lea smiled back shyly. “Yeah.”

Cassi brushed a thumb lightly over Lea’s flushed cheek, a touch more affectionate than necessary. “Good.”

Then, with casual grace, Cassi reached into the pocket of her jumpsuit and pulled out a small scrap of paper and a pen. Lea watched curiously, pulse jumping again as Cassi scribbled something down.

When Cassi met her gaze again, her eyes sparkled with quiet mischief. She folded the paper with deliberate care, then raised it to Lea’s mouth, pressing it lightly between her lips. Lea parted them without thinking, the slip of paper resting there like a secret passed in plain sight.

“Call me sometime,” Cassi murmured, fingers lingering just long enough on Lea’s chin.

Lea nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the paper between her lips as Cassi pulled her hand away. A promise, a possibility. Maybe something more.

“Take your time,” Cassi added softly. “I’ll be right out front.”

Lea listened to Cassi slip through the curtain, the quiet swish of fabric a gentle punctuation to everything that had just happened. Alone, she took a deep, steadying breath and tucked the paper into her pocket, feeling it like a secret, or maybe the first of many secrets she would finally allow herself.

Looking into the mirror again, Lea saw herself clearly, maybe for the first time. Not a different girl, but a truer one. There was no more doubt, no more pretending. Just the quiet, undeniable truth of who she was.

And she knew, with her whole body now, that this was where everything started.

The morning light has just started to paint the far corner of their bedroom when Kaleya wakes, still cradled by the faint hum of last night’s dreams. First, her mind registers the comforting weight of the comforter, the musk of sleep-warmed linens, and then the oddity. Not discomfort, exactly, but an alertness in the body, a telltale pressure and slip between her thighs that feels, even in the afterglow of sleep, obscene.

She blinks twice, vision adjusting to the blue-white geometry of morning, and glances to her left. Alejandra sleeps deeply, the sharp relief of her cheek softened by loose strands of black hair, one muscular arm flung above her head, the other curled protectively at Kaleya’s side. Kaleya admires her for a moment, gazing at the even rise and fall of her chest and the way the faintest smile lingers on her lips as if she’s dreaming of something delicious. She tries to focus on Alejandra, on the quiet joy of waking next to her, but the distraction between her own legs is impossible to ignore.

Kaleya shifts her hips, hoping to mask the movement as a casual stretch. She’s three months pregnant and just beginning to show, her belly only slightly more prominent than the taut, gently muscled lines she’d maintained since college. Her breasts are the most dramatic change, heavy and hot, a source of constant, private fascination and awkwardness. But this morning her arousal is lower, deeper, wetter than she’s ever felt before. She squeezes her thighs together, feeling a squelch, and bites her lip.

She tries to remember if there’d been a dream: had she been fucked in her sleep, by Alejandra or some anonymous other? The wetness is so intense it’s bordering on ridiculous, soaking not just her panties (plain white cotton, a size up from her usual) but the sheets beneath her too. It’s embarrassing, in a way that’s making her feel young and oversexed, and she presses her hand between her legs as if to hide it from Alejandra’s sleeping form.

But Alejandra is not, in fact, asleep. There’s a beat of stillness, then a sudden predatory shift as Alejandra pulls her closer, pressing her face into the hollow of Kaleya’s neck.a

“Mmm,” she says, voice half-melted with sleep. “You smell different this morning.”

Kaleya flushes and squirms, trying not to pull away. “Sorry,” she whispers. “It’s… I think it’s the hormones.”

Alejandra opens one eye, regarding her with a lazy amusement. “Kaly, it’s not something you need to apologize for.” She inhales again, more dramatically, and nuzzles her nose into the crook of Kaleya’s shoulder. “Jesus, it’s like you’re leaking pheromones. Is this what the next six months are going to be like?”

Kaleya huffs, but her embarrassment softens under Alejandra’s obvious delight. “I have no idea. I googled it last night and all the articles were like, ‘congratulations, you are an unstoppable fuckmachine now.’ But this is… I mean, it’s a lot.”

Alejandra grins, stretching catlike before reaching down to cup Kaleya’s thigh through the blanket. “Show me,” she murmurs.

For a moment, Kaleya wants to refuse. Not out of prudishness, but out of a genuine fear of how much her body has changed without her permission. But the command in Alejandra’s voice, soft but absolute, is impossible to resist. She peels back the comforter, exposing herself. She tries not to squirm as Alejandra’s eyes zero in on the dark, spreading stain between her legs.

“Oh my god,” Alejandra says, reverent. “You’re fucking soaked.”

“It’s not—” Kaleya starts, but Alejandra is already sliding down the bed, her hands anchoring themselves on Kaleya’s hips. She presses her face close, then actually presses her nose into the saturated cotton, inhaling again. “Shit, Kaly. You smell incredible.” 

Kaleya’s hands grip the pillow, her knuckles white. The humiliation transforms, swiftly, into something else. She watches as Alejandra uses her teeth to pull the waistband of her underwear down, exposing the glossy, flushed mound beneath. The air feels cold and damp against her, and she tries to close her legs, but Alejandra wedges herself firmly between them.

“Don’t you dare,” Alejandra says, voice muffled by the pillow of Kaleya’s thigh.

She hooks her finger, dragging the soaked panties to mid-thigh, then strokes two of her fingertips down the length of Kaleya’s slit, over her swollen, protruding inner lips. The touch is barely there, yet Kaleya’s entire body bucks against it, an electric shock rippling from clit to scalp. She gasps in shock at her own responsiveness.

Alejandra lifts her hand, then examines the wetness stringing between her fingertips. “Do you see this?” she says, almost clinically, then licks her fingers clean. “You taste amazing.”

Kaleya, unable to muster a retort, closes her eyes as Alejandra presses her pointer and middle fingers to her entrance and pushes, slow and deliberate. There is no resistance. If anything, the excess of lubrication makes it almost comically easy. Alejandra sinks her fingers deep, curling them until Kaleya nearly screams.

“Fuck,” Alejandra says, “you’re swallowing me whole. Is that…does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Kaleya says, voice thin and reedy. She feels raw and open, more animal than human, every sense on the surface. “God, yes, it’s—don’t stop.”

Alejandra obliges. She keeps her fingers pumping, slow but relentless, and her mouth moves up to Kaleya’s breast, latching onto the nipple and sucking with a ferocity that borders on greedy. Kaleya can feel a faint ache, the beginning of something she knows will only intensify with time. It feels right, every nerve ending a live wire, her body reconfigured overnight for maximum pleasure and minimum inhibition.

Alejandra’s hand is working harder now, her thumb grinding Kaleya’s clit in insistent, perfect circles. Kaleya’s thighs begin to tremble. She feels the orgasm coming, not as a distant threat but as a tidal wave already about to crash. It’s been weeks since they’d fucked; too much fatigue, too much nausea, too many work emergencies. Now it all returns at once, a backlog of longing and denial collapsing into this singular, obscene moment.

She arches her back, pressing her cunt against Alejandra’s palm, and the orgasm hits her with no warning. She cries out, voice muffled by the pillow, as her body seizes up. Then, to her horror, she feels a gush, more intense than anything she’s ever felt, a spray that soaks Alejandra’s hand and splatters onto the sheets.

Alejandra freezes, then laughs, a sound of pure, delighted disbelief. “Holy shit. You squirted!”

Kaleya’s face burns. “No I didn’t.”

“You did,” Alejandra insists, wriggling her wet hand in the air. “I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“I’ve never—” Kaleya begins, but Alejandra is already sliding down, mouth hovering a hair’s breadth above Kaleya’s pulsing cunt.

“Let me taste you,” Alejandra says. And then she’s licking, slow and luxuriant, drawing the flat of her tongue up and down until Kaleya’s hips jerk again, desperate for more. The mess is everywhere, sticky and hot, and Kaleya can smell herself, a heady sweetness that fills the air. She’s still spasming, still leaking, and Alejandra seems intent on wringing every last drop from her.

When Kaleya comes again, it’s quieter, just a slow, rolling wave that leaves her trembling and spent. She pushes at Alejandra’s head, half-heartedly, but Alejandra ignores the protest and keeps licking until every muscle in Kaleya’s body turns to jelly.

At last, Alejandra surfaces, her face slick with arousal and hair matted to her cheeks. “You’re amazing,” she says, eyes shining.

“I’m disgusting,” Kaleya says, but she can’t keep the smile out of her voice.

“You’re perfect,” Alejandra corrects, crawling back up the bed and collapsing on top of her. They’re both sticky, the sheets ruined, the room humming with the aftermath.

For a few minutes, they lie like that, the silence filled only by their ragged breathing and the muffled sound of a neighbor’s lawnmower starting up somewhere down the block. Kaleya feels Alejandra’s heartbeat slow against her chest, the sweat cooling between their bodies. She lets herself drift, the embarrassment now replaced by a warm pride.

Then she remembers her manners. “Your turn,” she says, and flips Alejandra onto her back in one smooth, practiced motion.

Alejandra lets out a surprised yelp, but her eyes are hungry. She reaches up and cups Kaleya’s face, kissing her with an urgency that says she’s been waiting for this all morning. Kaleya can taste herself on Alejandra’s lips, a slick, dark sweetness that makes her shiver.

She kisses her way down Alejandra’s body, pausing to nip at the hollow of her collarbone, the sharp ridge of her hipbone, the taut muscle above her pubic bone. Alejandra’s skin is warm, almost feverish, the subtle taste of salt and something darker beneath. She slips Alejandra’s sleep shorts down and buries her face between her thighs, tongue probing and searching. Alejandra’s cunt is already slick with anticipation, but not nearly as wet as Kaleya’s. The difference only makes her more determined.

She licks. She sucks. She flattens her tongue and drags it up and down until Alejandra’s hands are tangled in her hair, holding her in place. She brings two fingers up and works them in, curling them just so, the way Alejandra likes, and then matches the rhythm of her tongue to the thrust of her hand. Alejandra’s moans grow sharper, the tension in her thighs building. She spasms, thighs clamping tight around Kaleya’s head as she comes, hard and sudden, wetness pooling under her.

Kaleya keeps licking and works her fingers until Alejandra cries out again.  She finally slumps back against the pillows, completely spent. For a moment, Kaleya just watches her, sweaty, flushed, hair a wild mess, and feels a fierce happiness in her chest.

“See?” Alejandra says, breathless, when she can speak again. “Unstoppable fuckmachine.”

Kaleya laughs, and Alejandra reaches up and pulls her into a sticky, tangled hug. They lay there, bodies knotted together, sheets ruined, and morning sunlight creeping higher across the wall.

“It’s going to be a weird year,” Alejandra says, eyes bright.

Kaleya kisses her, slow and soft. “I hope so.”

*

Neither of them makes a move to get up until hunger forces the issue-real, undeniable hunger, not the lust masquerading as appetite that has left them tangled in the sheets for an extra hour. Kaleya swings her legs over the side of the bed, pausing to wince at the sticky aftermath on her thighs, and pads barefoot to the bathroom. She takes her time, savoring the small domestic rituals: toothbrush, cool splash of water, the scent of strawberry soap.

When she returns to the bedroom, Alejandra is sitting up, bedsheet draped across her waist, hair loose and wild.

“I love you, but you’re turning the mattress into a biological hazard,” Alejandra says, waggling an eyebrow.

“I’ll wash the sheets,” Kaleya promises, stooping to start gathering them into a bundle. “You get breakfast started. Muffins?”

“I’ll put the kettle on.” Alejandra snaps a salute, then springs off the bed and scoops up some discarded clothing in one fluid motion. She makes a show of slapping Kaleya’s ass on the way past, then disappears down the hall toward the kitchen. Kaleya grins.

The kitchen is painted a soft, robin’s egg blue, a compromise after months of debate and three different color swatches taped to the wall. The house itself is a sturdy old Massachusetts cape in North Cambridge, a fixer-upper they’d fallen in love with the first time they walked the creaky hardwood floors. On mornings like this, the sunlight floods in through the bay window, splashing across the battered farmhouse table where they eat most meals.

Kaleya finds Alejandra already busy at the counter, slicing the last of the banana-nut muffins they’d baked the night before. She wears nothing but a faded Amherst crewneck and a pair of boxers, legs bare, feet planted wide for balance as she works. The electric kettle begins to rumble, and she sets out two mismatched mugs; one with a faded unicorn, the other a “World’s Okayest Mom” gag from Kaleya’s sister.

“Good thing we made the full batch,” Alejandra says, popping a stray crumb into her mouth. “You’re eating for two now, after all.”

Kaleya rolls her eyes, stepping into the laundry alcove nearby, setting the sheets in the machine and starting a new cycle. She takes a seat at the table. “At this point, I think it’s more accurate to say I’m secreting for two.”

Alejandra snorts, loading the muffin halves into the toaster oven. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.” It’s a small, perfect moment, she thinks to herself, with the August sunlight, carbs, and the easy banter of people who’d been orbiting each other for years. The kettle chimes, and she pours them both strong black tea. When the muffins are done, she slathers them with butter, watching with satisfaction as it melts into the crumb.

They eat in companionable silence, save for the occasional moan of appreciation—Kaleya’s mostly sincere, Alejandra’s increasingly exaggerated until Kaleya has to swat her leg under the table to make her stop.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Alejandra asks, licking her fingers.

Kaleya considers. “I thought I’d read for a bit, then take a stab at next week’s reports. But mostly I want to sit in the sun and wear something that isn’t stained with my own fluids.”

Alejandra grins. “Very ambitious. I’m going to work on that pitcher set for the craft fair. Maybe swim, if it warms up enough.”

Their pool wasn’t much, just a ten-foot above-ground they’d installed last summer, wedged between the back fence and a wobbly birch tree. But it’s enough, and on weekends, it’s their favorite place to unwind.

“Swim sounds good,” Kaleya says, already picturing the weightless relief of floating in cool water. Her back aches more these days, a dull, persistent pressure just above her tailbone. “Maybe after lunch?”

“Deal.” Alejandra raises her mug in a toast. “To body fluids. May they never cease.”

Kaleya laughs, the sound joyful. She finishes her muffin and lets herself just sit for a while, watching the dust motes in a shaft of light, feeling the slow, pleasant hum of contentment radiate outward from her center.

After breakfast, they drift apart for a few hours; Alejandra to her basement workspace, where the sharp, earthy scent of clay is already creeping up the stairs, and Kaleya to the sunroom at the front of the house. She changes into a soft yellow dress, empire-waisted and just loose enough to flatter her new shape. She curls up on the couch with a paperback. The baby is the size of a peach this week, or so the app says, and her body is adjusting in ways that are both thrilling and faintly alarming.

Sometimes, in the quiet, she catches herself touching her belly, half expecting to feel something move. Not yet, she reminds herself. It’s too soon. But the anticipation is there just below her consciousness.

She reads, she dozes, she checks her phone, and then throws it across the cushions in disgust at the endless stream of news. By noon, the kitchen smells of garlic and herbs—Alejandra’s doing, surely—and Kaleya follows her nose to find lunch already in progress. There’s leftover eggplant parmesan, reheated with a mountain of salad on the side, and fresh basil from the pot on the windowsill.

“You spoil me,” Kaleya says, digging in.

“You’re my favorite science experiment,” Alejandra replied, eyes dancing. “How else am I supposed to see if you’ll develop superpowers?”

They eat and talk about nothing, everything, the kinds of conversations that only happen when you know someone will remember the small details months later. The food is good, and the company better. When the dishes are done, Alejandra turns to her with a sly, sidelong glance.

“So. Pool?”

Kaleya nods. “Give me five to change.”

They move together, the anticipation humming between them like a taut wire. Kaleya picks out her swimsuit, a pastel pink bikini one size up and still somehow too tight across the chest, and tugs it on, smoothing the fabric over her boobs. She examines herself in the bathroom mirror, unsure whether to be proud or shy about the faint curve in her belly just beginning to show. She chooses proud. For now.

When she meets Alejandra at the back door, her wife is already waiting. She has a towel slung over one shoulder, sunglasses perched on her head, and a grin that promises trouble.

“You look incredible,” Alejandra says, pulling her close for a lingering kiss. Then, without warning, she scoops Kaleya up bridal-style and carries her, shrieking and laughing, down the steps and out into the bright, blinding afternoon.

The water is shockingly cold against her skin, but after the initial gasp, Kaleya finds it glorious; a full-body reset, every nerve blinking awake beneath the bright summer sun. She swims a slow lap around the perimeter, arms slicing through the blue. She floats for a minute on her back, watching fluffy white cloud shapes drift lazily overhead.

Alejandra cannonballs in, sending a tsunami over the lip of the pool and nearly soaking the towels on the lawn chairs. She surfaces, eyes wild, and chases after Kaleya with a wolfish grin.

“Come here, fuckmachine,” Alejandra calls, paddling up behind her. She hooks an arm around Kaleya’s waist, hauling her in, and nips at the salt of her shoulder before pushing her away with mock ferocity.

They wrestle for a few minutes—Alejandra’s competitive streak is legendary, even in water—and then collapse, both panting, against the rubbery side of the pool. Alejandra tucks a wet lock of hair behind Kaleya’s ear and stares at her,. The intensity of her gaze hits Kaleya like a physical force.

“God, look at you,” Alejandra says, voice lower than before. “You’re fucking radiant.”

Kaleya blushes, water streaming off the sharp arch of her cheekbone. “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

Kaleya nods; she does love it. She loves the way Alejandra’s hunger for her is never coy or calculated, but direct. Sometimes it’s almost overwhelming, like now, with the pressure of Alejandra’s thigh pinning hers to the pool wall. She catches Alejandra looking, not at her face, but at the way her bikini clings to her breasts, stretching taut across the new, swollen curves. She sees the way Alejandra’s eyes linger on her belly, then flicks up to meet her gaze, dark and hungry.

“Is this okay?” Alejandra asks, voice suddenly gentle. “You look—god, you look amazing, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” Kaleya says, honest and a little out of breath. “I like the way you look at me. I always have.”

That’s all the invitation Alejandra needs. She presses closer, the world narrowing to the cool pressure of the pool wall behind Kaleya’s back and the heat of Alejandra’s body against her front. Alejandra kisses her, open-mouthed and unhurried. One hand slides up to cup the side of Kaleya’s breast, thumb stroking lightly over the wet fabric. Their tongues move sweetly together, soft moans shared between them.

It’s a different sensation than in bed; less urgency, more exploration. The resistance of the water slows everything down, making every touch deliberate. Kaleya finds herself focusing on tiny things: the taste of chlorine on Alejandra’s lips, the flutter of her own pulse in her ears, and the way her nipples have already gone pebble-hard, demanding attention.

Alejandra must have noticed, because her thumb keeps circling, applying just enough pressure over the fabric to make Kaleya whimper into her mouth. Then, with a mischievous look, Alejandra tugs the bikini top aside, exposing the nipple and rolling it between her fingers.

Kaleya gasps. The sensation is almost too much; her breasts had been sensitive before, but now every touch is multiplied, as if her body has traded all modesty for raw sensation. She arches into Alejandra’s hand, hungry for more, and Alejandra obliges, pinching and teasing until Kaleya feels her knees buckle.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Not a bad way to go,” Alejandra says, then bent down and sucks the exposed nipple into her mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make Kaleya’s toes curl.

She thinks for a moment that’s the extent of it; some exhibitionist thrill, a flash of skin in the backyard before the neighbors come home. But then Alejandra’s other hand slides down, palm flat against Kaleya’s belly, then lower, finding the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

Alejandra’s touch is featherlight at first, tracing the seam, teasing the elastic. Kaleya bites her lip, her breath coming shallow. She presses her hips forward, an unspoken plea.

Alejandra slides her hand inside, underwater, two fingers searching and then finding the swollen, slippery heat of Kaleya’s cunt. Even submerged, the wetness is unmistakable. The thick, slick mess only seems to multiply with each pass of Alejandra’s fingers. She works slowly, using the palm of her hand to rub Kaleya’s clit while curling her fingers in gentle, rhythmic strokes. The water muffles everything except the wild hammering of Kaleya’s heart and the soft, desperate noises she can’t quite hold back. They kiss again, harder this time. Alejandra swallows Kaleya’s moans as she builds her up, then draws back just enough to watch her face.

“You’re close,” Alejandra says, a statement rather than a question.

“God, fuck yes,” Kaleya says, voice barely a whisper.

Alejandra presses her thumb to Kaleya’s clit, fingers pumping in a steady cadence, and Kaleya comes with a violence that surprises even her. Her whole body shakes, muscles contracting around Alejandra’s hand, and she might have screamed if Alejandra hadn’t kissed her at just that moment. She slumps against Alejandra, head resting on her shoulder, eyes closed.

“Holy shit,” Kaleya manages, after a minute. “That is—”

“Incredible?” Alejandra supplies.

“Yeah.”

They float like that for a while, letting the current nudge them gently around the pool, bodies entwined. A gentle breeze dries the tops of their shoulders as their legs drift lazily below the surface.

After a while, Alejandra tips her head back and laughs, a sharp, bright sound that rings out across the yard. “We’re going to have to wash these swimsuits twice.”

Kaleya smiles, the world reduced to summer heat and chlorine and the pulse of Alejandra’s heartbeat where their hands meet beneath the water.

My best friend, Jessica, and I were getting ready to go out into town for a bottomless brunch. I can’t remember the last time we both got dressed up. Jessica had long, blonde hair and a petite, curvaceous body. She has the best set of tits I have ever seen. Jessica had never told me what size they were, but all I knew was that I had to get my hands on them at some point.

It was 6:30 pm, and brunch was booked for 8:00 pm, so there was not a great amount of time to get ready.

“Sarah, can I please use your shower? I need to shave my legs? You never know; I might get lucky tonight, so I’ve got to be prepared”, Jessica giggled.

“Of course, babe, you don’t need to ask me. There’s a spare razor under the sink if you need it,” I replied.

While Jessica was in the shower, I thought of her rubbing her hands all over her wet, soapy body. It was enough to start my pussy dribbling. I went to the kitchen to get myself a glass of wine and started to get ready. The shower was in my en-suite, so I couldn’t turn my mind off the thought of Jessica being naked. I started to think about Jessica and me together in the shower. What I would do to have Jessica’s bouncy, wet tits pressed against mine. Our nipples being pressed together with our hands cupping each others’ pussies.

“Fuck. Stop thinking about this,” I told myself.

I sat down at my dressing table in my dressing gown, rummaging through my make-up bag to decide what products I wanted. I had the idea of a shimmery, statement eye look. The mirror placed on my dressing table was conveniently positioned so I could see into the bathroom, as Jessica hadn’t closed the door properly.

‘Oh my’, I thought.

Jessica certainly wasn’t shaving her legs, that’s for sure. Instead, I saw the reflection of the showerheadshooting water directly onto her clit. I was shocked, but I could feel my own pussy pulsating at the glorious view. I tried so hard not to stare. How could I not when there was a glistening, wet pussy directly in the reflection?

I needed to hear her. Tiptoeing quietly to the bathroom door, I peeked around. Jessica still hadn’t clocked that I could see her gorgeous, curvaceous body. Her erect nipples stood to attention. The showerhead was still between her legs as she let out soft moans. Her eyes were closed from the intense pleasure the water was giving her clit. Jessica’s other hand was alternating between each of her nipples, tugging at them.

While her eyes were closed, I reached down to my own panties. Black laced French panties, of course. Not wanting to waste any time or possibly get caught with my hand inside my underwear, I slid one finger inside my already wet lips. It entered my glistening hole with such ease. Softly, my finger fucked my pussy in and out.

“Mmm, Sarah, just like that. Yeah, fuck”, Jessica moaned, saying my name as she toyed with her pussy.

I felt my pussy tighten around my finger as she moaned my name. God, she was so sexy. It was so hard not to burst in and join her. But I didn’t want our first encounter to be like this, despite how tempting it may be.

Jessica reached her hand down to her pussy, softly using her fingers to toy with her clit. She took her fingers and put them in her mouth, sucking her juices off. Ugh. I wanted to taste her so badly.

“Babe, get me a towel”, Jessica shouted. I opened the bathroom door to be greeted by the view of her ass being shaken playfully.

“I’ve still got it,” Jessica laughed.

I know you do, I thought to myself. My panties were getting damper with each second as I watched water droplets run down her tits. I wish she could feel how wet she had made me. I couldn’t get the image of Jessica pinching her nipples out of my head. I walked over to her and passed her the towel.

“Right, come on, you. We haven’t got time to be messing around,” I said quickly whilst walking back to the bedroom.

“Jess, shall I wear red or black?” I asked, holding up both dresses side by side.

“Definitely red; you always look gorgeous in red,” Jessica said politely.

Jessica walked into the bedroom and dropped her towel on the floor. Are you really best friends if you don’t see each other naked? But my oh my, her body was divine. It was a good job I had black underwear on; otherwise, she’d definitely be able to see a wet patch forming from how wet I was for her.

“I think I’m going to go with my black bodycon dress, you know, the one that is strapless,” Jessica suggested.

“Oh, and I’ve ordered us an Uber. It’ll be 20 minutes”, Jessica added.

Easy access to those beautiful, perky tits of hers, I thought.

While I was finishing my hair, Jessica started to get dressed. She slipped her dress off the hanger and stepped into it. Pulling it over her slim, petite figure.

Shit! I silently thought to myself. She didn’t put on any underwear, and she was braless. But I wasn’t going to question it. Maybe she had done this on purpose so my hand could have easy access to slide up her legs and play with her needy little pussy. I needed to get these thoughts out of my head and fast.

Jess got a notification on her phone to say the Uber had arrived. She took the lead in walking down the stairs as I followed her. I couldn’t help but stare at her plump ass in the most gorgeous, figure-hugging dress I had ever seen. Jessica sat in the front of the taxi, talking the ears off the driver. I think the wine had gone to her head already. I sat in the back of the taxi. I squeezed my legs together to put pressure on my clit. I was so ready to be fucked. But I don’t think that had even crossed Jessica’s mind at all, if ever. I needed to get drunk to put these ideas out of my mind.

The taxi pulled up to the bar. We didn’t need to queue, as Jessica had sorted us VIP entry. “Who’s ready to get drunk?” I chanted.

“Me, me, me”, Jessica responded excitedly.

As we entered the bar, we heard our favourite songs from the 90s being played. Jessica threw her arms in the air and started dancing. Despite the bar being a little empty, it hadn’t dampened the mood.

Jessica leaned into me and said, “Shall we go to the toilets and touch up our makeup while it’s quiet?”

“Sure,” I added.

We walked around the bar hand in hand. As soon as we got inside, Jessica opened her bag and got out a flask containing some form of spirit.

“Fuck, I need this,” Jessica said as she took a swig.

“And I also need you,” she added, getting closer and closer to me.

Jessica backed me into a toilet cubicle and shut the door behind us.

My body grew hot again.

Jessica whispered, “I’ve wanted you all night.”

She leant in, kissing my neck with slow and soft kisses.

“Ohh”, I let out a quiet moan.

Jessica pushed her knee between my thighs to spread my legs open. I began humping her thigh with my clit, moving my hips forwards and back. My pussy was throbbing from my lace panties causing friction on my clit.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned again, my eyes closed.

She kissed her way down my neck, planting small kisses onto my chest. I didn’t have large tits like Jessica. I had just enough to squeeze. Walking her fingers over my chest, she took one of my tits in her hand, squeezing and pinching my nipple.

Jessica stopped for a few seconds and smirked, “Mmm, no bra?” She questioned.

“Look at how pretty your nipples are when they’re hard,” Jessica teased.

She was now kneeling on the cubicle floor, sucking my nipples one at a time over the material of my dress.

“That feels so good”, I panted.

Jessica stood up and slid the straps of my dress down over my shoulders, kissing my neck again, grazing over my tits with her tongue and up to my lips. She planted a slow, passionate kiss on my lips, biting my lower lip gently.

“Touch me”, I begged, guiding her hand towards my pussy.

I wanted her to feel my juices oozing out of my pussy. I needed her to bend me over the toilet and eat me from behind. Jessica sucked my nipples and quickly flicked them with her tongue.

“You’ve got such a sexy body. How about this pretty pussy of yours? Jessica questioned, cupping my pussy on top of my panties with her hand.

“Your pussy is perfect; I saw it in the shower,” I said, panting under my breath.

“I was hoping you’d see. Did you like what you saw?” Jessing grinned as she started to play with my pussy.

Her warm hand felt incredible. I felt her push a finger in between my glistening folds on top of my underwear.

“Mmm, yes, I did”, I replied.

I continued by telling her how wet it made me.

“My pussy was so wet for you,” I playfully teased.

“Let’s see how wet I’ve made you now, shall we?” Jessica questioned, pulling down my lace panties.

I was too turned on to step out of them, so I left my underwear around my ankles and spread my legs. It was a good job that the music in the bar was loud enough to mask my moans; otherwise, everyone in the toilets would have heard. Jessica stroked her finger in between my wet folds, tracing up and down. She did this a few times, then put her finger in her mouth, tasting me before putting her hand back between my legs.

“You’re so wet for me, good girl,” Jessica whispered into my ear.

“Fuck me, I need you to make me cum,” I panted.

At this point, I was holding onto the cubicle door with my arms above my head, trying to keep my balance while Jessica was playing with me. Jessica rubbed my clit in circles, looked me in the eyes and eased a finger into my tight pussy.

“Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum on my fingers, baby. I was thinking of you in the shower. I wanted it to be your tongue on my pussy instead of the shower,” Jessica exclaimed.

I couldn’t stand up much longer. She manoeuvred me onto the toilet seat, as she hadn’t finished having her way with me yet. I felt a vibration coming from my bag. It was Tom calling. There was no way I could answer it. My whole body was shaking from Jessica’s fingers being inside me. Despite the phone ringing, Jessica didn’t stop. She opened up my pussy with two fingers.

“I knew you’d have a pretty pussy,” Jessica smiled whilst she was exploring my folds.

Jessica answered the phone. What the hell did she think she was playing at?

“Hi Tom, I’m here with Sarah. She’s got something to show you,” Jessing said, passing the phone to me.

Back on her knees, Jessica flicked my clit with her tongue.

“What’s going on, ladies?” Tom questioned.

“I’m afraid your girlfriend has been very naughty, so her pussy is mine for the night,” Jessica said, before sucking my clit.

I put the phone on FaceTime and gave him a POV of Jessica having her way with me.

Tom didn’t say a word. I watched him pull his cock out of his boxers, starting to toss it up and down. Maybe he remembered that this was my fantasy, so he was just letting it happen. Either way, I was so turned on but pleased he wasn’t angry. It made my pussy wetter seeing Tom play with his hard dick.

“Bend over,” Jessica demanded, smacking my ass as she pushed me down.

Tom always told me how sexy I was from behind. It was his favourite position of his to see me play with my pussy on the bed, kneeling on my hands and knees. I never know when he’s going to push his cock into me, which is why I love it so much.

Jessica stopped licking my clit and told me to stand. I wasn’t annoyed that I hadn’t cum yet. I love being edged. It makes my orgasm much stronger. Jessica sat on the toilet seat, and I was standing up with my pussy directly above her face. I lowered myself down. Jessica’s warm tongue flicked my clit repeatedly and dipped into my soaking hole. She reached up to my tits as she continued fucking me with her tongue, grabbing onto my tits.

“Mmm, girls, you’re so hot,” Tom’s breathless voice came from the phone.

We both looked at the phone that was placed on the lock on the toilet door. Tom had his thick cock in his hand, tossing it up and down. His mouth was open, breathing heavily.

“I’m going to cum, girls,” Tom said whilst his breathing quickened.

His head was thrown back as he lay in his chair, moans escaping his lips.

“Fuck, I wish it was inside your pussy, Sarah; I need to cum,” Tom continued.

Jessica stopped eating my pussy to say, “Don’t you dare cum. Wait for us to come home so you can fuck us both. Your sexy girlfriend is ready to be fucked; I’ve made her pussy wet for you already.”

Jessica then turned off the phone. Maybe she was into edging, as she didn’t allow Tom to cum either.

“Do I have to wait to cum too?” I interrupted.

She seductively bit her lip, looked me in the eyes, and said, “No princess, I’m not finished with you yet. I’m going to make you cum over and over.”

I’m already sopping wet. That doesn’t stop Jessica from spitting on her fingers and rapidly rubbing my clit. Next, inserting two fingers deep into my drenched pussy. My back arches, her fingers being thrust in and out of me. My pussy tightening around her fingers.

I cry in pleasure, “Mmm, yeah, just like that, I’m cumming.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” we heard coming from the cubicle next to us.

Jessica stopped, crouched down, and looked under the toilet cubicle. There was a gorgeous blonde woman playing with herself, listening to Jessica and Sarah fuck each other.

“Don’t stop; make her cum. You two are so fucking hot,” the woman said.

Jessica sunk two fingers back into my pussy. You could hear the squelching of my juices being pumped in and out from Jessica’s fingers.

“I’m cumming all over your fingers, Jess, fuck,” I moaned in pleasure.

A few moments later, I came all over her fingers. Jessica put both fingers in her mouth.

“I knew you’d taste amazing. Good girl”, Jessica smirked.

“Ohh yeah, girls, my pussy is so wet for you.” The girl next to us orgasmed too.

“Did we really just do that?” I panted, catching my breath.

Jessica gave me a long, hard kiss, interlocking her tongue with mine.

“Let’s go; Tom needs a good seeing too next,” I laughed, smacking Jessica’s ass as she opened the toilet door.

“Please don’t go. Can I tempt you to show me your pussies?” The woman said, walking towards our cubicle.

“Come on in, if you’re gentle,” Jessica giggled.

“Well, I can’t make any promises,” the mystery woman replied.

“Oh, by the way, my name is Liv,” Liv continued.

It’s a Friday night in June, and Dukes, our local music venue, is heaving.

The place reeks of sweat, leather, spilt beer and whisky. ‘The pit’, the small audience area six or so steps below the bar area, is absolutely heaving with bodies. Tonight’s band Shameless isn’t a tribute band, but they are paying homage big time to all the glorious Los Angeles hair metal bands of the 80s.

They look the part. More eyeliner than most of the girls here and more cheap silk scarves than a tart’s boudoir. All four guys are rail thin, covered in tattoos, have long hair, and have wrists festooned in cheap bangles and bracelets.

They sound great too. This little corner of old London Town has been magically transformed into our own Whisky a GoGo, circa 1985, for the night.

Granted, most of the songs these guys are playing came out a good ten years before I was born, but I’m a true fan, thanks to my parents.

My friends Lacey and Gemma and I are in our usual spot. We’re sitting on stools at one of the tall tables near the bar. The bar area is on the same level as the stage, the audience pit being sunk lower. This means we get a great view without being part of the crush.

No boyfriends tonight; it’s a girls’ night out, and we’re already three drinks deep. Laughter, idle chat, booze and the week’s stresses are already drifting away.

“Typical,” I think to myself. “I’m finally here without my fella, and she’s nowhere to be seen.”

The ‘she’ in question is the cute, petite, curly-haired blonde that I’ve seen in here most Fridays for the last six months or so.

We’ve eye-fucked each other like crazy. Seductive smiles, lip bites. Glances over shoulders. But neither of us has plucked up the courage to make a first move. Not that the opportunity has actually arisen yet, but one lives in hope.

As Gemma hops off of her stool to go buy us another round, my eyes follow her to the bar. There she is, gorgeous as ever. Her long hair flowing down her back in gorgeous loose curls.

Usually she’s all ripped fishnets, combat boots and heavy dark eye makeup. But tonight, she’s in a pretty little skater dress with a denim jacket and pristine black Converse hi-tops. She looks utterly beautiful. She can’t be a day over twenty-two, compared to my thirty.

She’s with two older women who both bear a strong resemblance to her. I’m guessing her mum and maybe an aunt who were fans of this stuff the first time around. They make a very attractive trio, I have to say.

We catch each other’s eye, and she gives me an adorable, discreet little wave before joining the two older ladies at the bar.

As the band rocks through its first set of the evening, we’re constantly looking at one another, smiles, squints, the full arsenal coming into play.

The band launch into Ten Seconds to Love by Mötley Crüe, and I mouth the words like I’m singing along. But my eyes are locked on hers the whole time, giving her what I hope is a mischievous grin as I ‘sing along’. She does a sexy little hip swing, and I blatantly claw my fingernails up my bare thigh, ending at the hem of my Daisy Duke shorts.

Emboldened by booze and adrenaline, I make a decision.

“I need the loo,” I yell in Gemma’s ear before slinging back the shot that’s next to my beer glass. “Back in a mo.”

I slide off of my stool and make my way to the doorway to the customer toilets.

‘God, I hope she gets the hint and follows me,’ I think to myself as I shoot a glance in her direction. Okay, so a ladies’ loo isn’t exactly romantic, but I so desperately want to know this beautiful girl better.

Thankfully the ladies’ is empty for now. Most of the females here tonight are cramped up at the front of the pit. Re-enacting their bygone, slutty groupie days.

I lean on a sink, keeping an eye on the door in the mirror. And sure enough, my sexy little mystery blonde soon peeps around the door. She seems a bit more confident now she realises we are alone.

I lean back, my bum resting on the sink unit, and I gaze at her, biting my lip.

“Hi, I’m Jodie,” I whisper breathily, my voice shaky with excitement.

“I can’t be long,” she whispers back. “I’m with my mum, so I’ve got to be quick, but fuck, I fancy you.”

She advances on me quickly. “Fucking hell, you’re so pretty,” I just about manage to say before she tiptoes up and kisses me.

It’s hot, urgent, and utterly exquisite as she eagerly curls her tongue around mine.

I pull away and begin to slowly back into a cubicle. I teasingly unbutton my shorts, showing her my little lace thong.

“I…err, still have to pee,” I tease, easing the tiny cutoffs over my hips as I enter the cubicle facing her.

She playfully pushes me backwards and slips inside with me, locking the door.

She kisses me again, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my knickers, pulling them to my knees.

‘Fuck it!’ I think and kick off my shorts and knickers, leaving me in just my tee shirt and sneakers. This gives her an unobstructed view of my naked pussy. Just a little red tuft above my otherwise shaved slit. I don’t need to pee; it’s just an excuse to get my knickers off for her. I want her, and I want her to know it.

“Ooh, the rug and the drapes match,” she whispers huskily, “I fucking love gingers, and you are fucking gorgeous.”

She hoists her dress up over her hips. And then hurriedly lifts the hem up, taking it all the way off. She gives me the most lewd view of her arse as she hangs it on the door peg. Oh my god, her body is exquisite; her legs and thighs look amazing. And I’m thrilled to see a complete lack of underwear. Fuck!

I can’t resist; I reach out to caress her impossibly smooth pussy as she claims my lips again, pushing me against the cubicle wall.

I keep my fingertips on her pussy, rubbing her in soft, slow circles, feeling her wetness gather on my fingertips. I couldn’t quite believe that I was in a more or less public toilet with a girl I didn’t even know, and I was stroking her so intimately. She hasn’t even told me her name yet.

“Are you going to pee or what?” she asks. “Coz… that would be so fucking hot if you did.”

I chuckle, “I think that’s at least a first date thing, don’t you? At least tell me your na…”

Before I can finish the sentence, she stops my mouth with a hot, deep kiss. She slides one hand up my top to maul at my breasts, while the other mirrors the actions of my own hand, which is happily lodged between her legs.

We’re just a hot, sweaty mass of rocking hips, interlocked arms and wet mouths as we frantically make out. Fingering each other into a lather.

“Fucking hell, I want you,” I growl. Fuck her name, fuck waiting. I shove her back against the opposite wall.

My body is vibrating as I drop to my knees, kissing every inch of her silky skin on the way down. Jesus Christ, I can smell her pussy, musky, hot and most definitely ready for what’s coming next.

She tangles her fingers into my hair, gazing down into my eyes; she lifts one Converse-clad foot onto the toilet bowl and purrs the words.

“Be a good girl and lick my pussy, would you? Please?”

I don’t need asking twice. I lick up her creamy inner thigh, collecting the sexy trail of her juices that’s dripping toward me on the way.

“Yesss, fuuck, yesss,” she hisses, as I grab at her pretty bum, hauling her tight to my lips as I hungrily slide my tongue into her baby smooth cunt.

She’s so fucking smooth and almost impossibly wet. I make out with her pussy just like it’s her mouth, my lips caressing her lust-swollen labia, stroking her clit, my tongue painting a masterpiece inside her. Fuck, she tastes as good as she looks.

My red-painted nails claw into her arse cheeks; her fingers twist, grabbing my hair, pulling me into her. She’s frantically fucking my mouth, her body banging against the cubicle wall, her breath coming in short, laboured gasps. She’s close, and I’m going in for the kill.

Time for the ‘coup de grâce’. As I slide a pussy-slicked finger up her arse, I feel her stiffen.

“Fuuuck, shh…shit…yessss,” my pretty little blonde goes off like a rocket on the Fourth of July. She’s bucking, heaving, wiping her pretty pussy all over my face.

This has honestly been the sleaziest, most thrilling experience of my sex life.

“Shit!” she exclaims, killing the moment stone dead. “I have to get back to my mum.”

She sounds a little worried and hurriedly gets dressed. She leans down to kiss my pussy-soaked lips and smiles.

“Meet me in The Kings Head. Tomorrow night, eight o’clock, please.”

And she’s gone. And I’m alone on the cubicle floor in nothing but my tee shirt and Vans.

I pick up my shorts and knickers. Hurriedly dressing, it doesn’t even occur to me to look in the mirror as I leave the Ladies Room.

I hop back up onto my stool; Gemma and Lacey stare at me incredulously.

“Where the hell have you been?” demands Lacey.

Followed by, “And what in the ever-loving fuck have you been up to?” from Gemma.

I’m guessing my makeup is fucked, and I must look a mess.

I grin, take a long, much-needed swig of beer. I drain the glass and grab my purse to go buy another. I smile at my friends, waving my fingers over their glasses. A silent offer for another round.

“See that blonde over there?” I point out my mystery partner. “Well, she never even told me her name.”

The sun crept in through the louvered shutters, casting long, lazy shadows on the whitewashed walls of the villa. As Emily woke up, it took a few seconds to shake off her ‘travel fogginess’. Slowly, it all came back into focus for her. She was in the villa’s bedroom on the last day of her holiday on Koh Phangan. She smiled to herself as her memories of Maya over the two previous days came flooding back.

The soft touch of Maya’s hands on her skin, the gentle scent of frangipani in her hair, and the taste of her sweet lips. She could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against hers, in the heat of their passion. But with those memories also came a wave of guilt, gnawing at the edges of her pleasure. She knew she would had to confess to John, to set things right before they went home.

John was still asleep, his back rising and falling softly with each breath. She watched him for a moment, taking in his strong jawline, the sprinkle of grey in his dark hair. He was a good man, a great husband and she hated the deceit of it all.

She rolled onto her side, her dark hair fanning out on the pillow. The movement was enough to wake John up. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her directly in the eyes and smiled. The kind of smile that had first drawn her to him all those years ago.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said softly, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

‘My god,’ she thought to herself, ‘I’ve got to resolve this. I really need to confess everything to John – and it’s needs to be soon.’ She pondered the intricacies of her situation, her mind racing with thoughts of how to approach the conversation with John later in the day.

“Good morning,” she replied, her voice soft. She reached out her hand to him, her fingers tracing patterns on chest.

John leaned over and kissed her softly. “Morning,” he replied. “So this is our last day, huh?”

Emily sighed. “Last day. I’d almost forgotten,” she lied. She stretched, arching her back, and felt the lingering ache in her muscles. Not from a bad night’s sleep, but from that wonderful ‘session’ she’d had with Maya the day before. The memories of their encounter flooded back to her, making her cheeks flush. She was grateful that the lighting in the room was dim.

He reached out, tracing a finger along her collarbone. “You okay?”

Emily quickly controlled her features. “Yeah, just… just thinking about how I’m going to miss this place.” She gestured vaguely around the room, her eyes lingering on the exotic flowers in the vase by the window.

John gave her a curious look, but let it slide. “We could come back, you know. No reason this has to be a one-time thing.”

She smiled, grateful for his suggestion.

“I like the sound of that. Maybe next time, we could stay a bit longer.”

John nodded, watching her closely. He could sense something was on her mind, but he didn’t push. Instead, he changed the subject. “I was thinking we could maybe check out the local market today. You know, pick up some souvenirs, try some street food.”

Emily’s eyes lit up at the thought. “That sounds like a plan. I’ve been craving some mango sticky rice.”

John laughed. “Well, today’s your lucky day then. I saw a stall near the market entrance that had the most amazing looking mangoes. Plus, the lady running it had a smile that could light up the entire resort.” John teased, trying to coax Emily out of her reverie.

Emily chuckled, her guilt momentarily pushed aside. “You’re impossible. You know that?”

John shrugged playfully. “Just trying to make the most of our last day here. Besides, who doesn’t love mangoes and a friendly smile?”

Emily’s smile faded slightly as she thought about Maya’s smile. It had been warm, inviting, and so much more.

Emily quickly pushed the thought away, focusing back on John. “You’re right. Let’s make today count.”

They got ready and wondered down to the hotel’s open-air beachfront restaurant where they took their time over breakfast. The breeze carried with it the distant hum of waves crashing against the shore, a soothing melody that complemented the bird songs echoing through the trees. They ate fresh fruit, crispy pastries, and strong coffee, their conversation light and easy.

As they finished up, Emily noticed a familiar figure walking along the beach towards them. It was Maya, dressed in a flowing silk dress and a large-brimmed hat. It must be her day off as this was obviously not her usual work attire.

Emily’s heart skipped a beat, her palms dampening instantly. She quickly looked away, but not before catching Maya’s gaze. Maya smiled at her, a small, secretive smile that sent a shiver down Emily’s spine.

John, oblivious to the silent exchange, waved at Maya. “Hey, Maya! Would you like to join us?”

Emily looked at him, panic rising. She opened her mouth to protest, but Maya beat her to it.

“Thank you, but I’ve got a busy morning ahead. I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you both a safe trip home.” Maya’s voice was warm and friendly, her eyes lingering on Emily for a moment too long.

Emily felt her cheeks grow hot, but she managed a smile. “Oh, of course. Thank you, Maya. It was… it was great meeting you. It really enjoyed that massage you treated me to the other day.”

Maya’s smile broadened, and she gave a slight nod, as if acknowledging a shared secret. “You too, Emily. Enjoy your last day here.” Maya’s eyes twinkled as she looked at Emily, before turning to John. “And you, John, take care of this one. She’s special.”

John smiled, patting Emily’s hand. “I will. Thanks, Maya. And please say goodbye to Noon for me, won’t you.”

“Of course I will,” Maya replied as she continued on her walk.

As Maya walked away, Emily let out a soft sigh, her fingers nervously playing with her coffee cup.

John noticed her unease. “Everything okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

Emily forced a smile. “Yes, of course. Just, you know… just a touch of the ‘last day blues’.”

John studied her for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah, I get it. But hey, at least we’ve got a whole day to soak it all in, right?” 

Emily nodded, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “Right. So, what’s on the agenda after breakfast?”

John grinned. “Well, I was thinking we could start with a little swim – you’ve got your bikini on under your sundress, haven’t you? We could head off from here straight to that hidden cove I’ve been dying to check out. It’s supposed to be amazing.”

Emily’s eyes lit up at the thought. “That sounds perfect. I could use a swim to wake me up fully,” she said, standing up from the breakfast able. She looked out at the sea, the turquoise water sparkling under the sun, inviting her to dive in.

John led the way, walking past their villa until they reached the hidden cove. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the sea breeze carried with it the scent of salt and sunscreen. As they approached the water, Emily slipped off her sundress, revealing a black bikini that accentuated her curves. She felt a pang of guilt, remembering Maya’s hands on her body, but quickly pushed it aside. This was her husband, her partner, and she was with him now. She waited for John to turn around before diving into the water, the cool saltwater a welcome shock to her system.

They swam out to the cove, the water crystal clear and teeming with fish. The rocks formed a natural barrier, creating a private little sanctuary. Emily felt a sense of peace wash over her as she floated on her back, looking up at the sky.

John swam over to her and treaded water, looking at her with a playful grin.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should start our own little tradition. Last day of the holiday, we find a hidden cove to swim in.”

Emily smiled back, splashing water at him. “I like it. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

They spent a few more minutes exploring the cove, their bodies close in the water, the rhythm of their movements in sync. They swam back to the shore and when they were close enough in to stand on the seafloor beneath them, John reached out and grabbed Emily’s hand, pulling her close for a kiss. It was soft and tender, a reminder of their years together, their love a beacon in the ebb and flow of life.

Emily kissed him back, feeling a warmth spread through her, a warmth that wasn’t just from the sun. She loved John, deeply and truly, and these moments of connection were as essential to her as the air she breathed.

They emerged from the water hand in hand, the sun drying their skin as they walked back to their villa. The path was lined with lush greenery and colourful flowers that swayed gently in the breeze, adding a vibrant backdrop to their stroll.

As they reached the villa, John suggested, “How about a quick shower and then we head to the market? I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Emily grinned. “You’re always hungry. But you’re right, I could certainly do with rinsing off this saltwater.”

They stripped out of their swimwear and stepped into the  villa’s ‘His and Hers’ showers, the villa’s open-air design allowing the sea breeze to waft through, carrying with it the scent of frangipani and the distant hum of the waves.

Emily stepped under the warm shower, the water cascading over her, washing away the salt and the lingering guilt from her encounters with Maya. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the present, on the day with John.

Yet, her mind would always drift back to Maya, the way her hands had moved with such precision and care, the way her lips had tasted like sugarcane and passion fruit. She shook her head, steeling herself against the memory.

John was waiting for her in the living area when she emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped turban-style around her hair. He was dressed in a simple white linen shirt and khaki shorts, looking every bit the adventurous traveller. He turned as she entered, a smile spreading across his face.

“You look fresh,” he commented, standing up to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Ready for our adventure?”

Emily smiled and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

John took her hand and said, “Great. I can’t wait to sample some of that street food we’ve heard so much about.”

“Give me just a second,” Emily said, as she walked over to the wardrobe to pick out a casual sundress. She slipped it on, the light cotton fabric comfortable against her still-damp skin.

John watched her, his eyes lingering on her curves.

He felt a familiar spark of attraction, but there was something more, something different. A sense of curiosity that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought, and focused on the present.

“So, what do you think we should try first at the market? I’m thinking of those little coconut pancakes filled with palm sugar. I’ve been craving them since we got here,” Emily said, tying her hair back into a loose ponytail.

“I was thinking the same thing. And maybe we could grab some of those fresh mangoes. I know you’ve been eyeing them since we arrived,” John replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Emily laughed. “Guilty as charged. I mean, how can you resist those perfectly ripe mangoes? There’s always something a little sensual about the feel of a ripe mango, don’t you think?”

John chuckled. “Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?”

They headed out, the sun high in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the dense canopy of leaves overhead. The market was a riot of colours and smells, a sensory explosion that Emily loved.

They wandered through the crowded stalls, John holding her hand, their fingers entwined. The air was filled with the scent of spices, sweet fruits, and the faint whiff of exotic flowers.

John led them to a stall piled high with fresh mangoes. The vendor, a small, wrinkled woman with a broad smile, stacked them in neat pyramids. She greeted them warmly.

“You like mango? Best mango in Thailand. You try, you see,” she said, offering them a slice. “No charge for try.”

Emily took the proffered mango slice, her eyes widening as she bit into it. The juices exploded in her mouth, a symphony of sweet and tart, rich and refreshing. And she couldn’t help but think of Maya as those sweet juices hit the back of her mouth.

“Oh my god, John,” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “This is incredible. We have to get some of these.”

John nodded, smiling at the vendor. “How much for four?”

The vendor named a price that was more than fair, and John handed over the money, bagging the mangoes himself.

“Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly to the old woman, who grinned and touched his arm.

“You come back,” she said. “I have special treat for you.”

John smiled and nodded. “We will, thank you.” wondering what the hell her special treat could be!

They continued their exploration of the market, sampling various street foods and marvelling at the array of wares on offer. Emily’s eyes lit up as they passed a stall laden with intricately carved wooden masks. She ran her fingers over the cool, smooth surfaces, admiring the craftsmanship.

“These are stunning,” she murmured. “Look at the details on this one.” She picked up a mask depicting a serene woman with flowing hair and almond-shaped eyes.

John admired it, his eyes following her fingers as they traced the delicate carvings. “It’s beautiful. You should get it.”

Emily looked up at him, her eyes shining with excitement. “You think so?”

John nodded. “Definitely. It’s unique, and the craftsmanship is amazing.”

Emily’s smile broadened as she murmured, “It’s perfect.” She turned to the vendor, a young man with a shy smile and eager eyes. “How much?” she asked, gesturing to the mask.

The vendor named his price, and Emily nodded, handing over the money. The vendor carefully wrapped the mask in tissue paper and placed it in a sturdy paper bag.

“Thank you,” Emily said, taking the bag. “I love it.”

John smiled, his hand resting lightly on the small of Emily’s back as they continued their journey through the market. “I’m glad you found something to take home. A memento to remind you of this amazing holiday.” Of course, the irony of what he’d just said was lost on him.

Emily nudged him gently with her elbow. “You know, I think this might be the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time.”

John looked at her, his eyes warm and soft. “Me too. It’s just… nice. To be here with you, no pressure, no deadlines. Just us and the beauty of this place. Just us two together.”

Emily leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as they walked. “I couldn’t agree more,” she replied, trying to ignore those feelings of guilt that were still lingering in the back of her mind. She pushed them aside, determined to enjoy this moment with John.

They strolled leisurely, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the market, before deciding it was time to head back to the hotel to relax at their villa’s private pool. The day was heating up, and the cool water was calling their names.

As they walked back, Emily felt a sense of contentment wash over her. The day had been perfect—a blend of adventure, relaxation, and togetherness. She looked up at John, his face tanned from the sun and his eyes sparkling with happiness. She knew he felt it too.

***********************************

Back at the villa, they quickly changed into their swimwear and headed out to the pool. The water was refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm air. They swam laps for a while, their bodies slicing through the water in unison.

Emily loved the feel of the water against her skin, the sun warming her back as she glided along. She turned on her back, floating on the surface, and looked up at the sky. The clouds were a puffy white against the brilliant blue, and the palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows onto the water.

John swam up beside her, treading water and looking down at her. “You look so peaceful,” he said, a soft smile on his lips.

Emily smiled back at him. “I feel it. This place has a way of making you relax, doesn’t it?”, she replied, feeling more at ease with herself. But she still couldn’t rid herself of those passionate memories from the day before with Maya. She knew that eventually she would have to confess everything to her husband and just pray that he would be understanding. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardise their marriage.

As John’s gaze lingered on her, Emily felt a familiar heat rise within her, a heat that was both comforting and unsettling.

John’s eyes flickered as he watched Emily, her body glistening with water and sunscreen. He reached out, his hand caressing her arm, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. “You’re so beautiful, Emily,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky. “Inside and out.”

Emily turned her head to look at him, her eyes searching his. ” John,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her—guilt, desire, and a deep-seated love for her husband. She knew she couldn’t keep her secret from him any longer.

John’s hand moved up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a drop of water that clung to her skin. “What is it, sweetheart? You seem… preoccupied.”

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to confess. “John, I… I need to tell you something. Something that happened here, at this resort.” Emily’s voice was barely audible over the gentle lapping of the pool water against the tiles.

John’s brow furrowed, concern etched on his face. He laid his other hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Emily swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze as she confessed, “Well, I had… an encounter. With Maya.”

John’s hand stilled on her arm, his eyes widening in surprise. “Maya? The masseuse?” John asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

Emily nodded, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. “Yes. It started when she was giving me my massage. She offered to… well, give me a little bit of an ‘extra’ if I wanted.” Emily’s words tumbled out in a rush, her eyes focused on a point somewhere over John’s shoulder. She couldn’t bear to see his reaction. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest, and her breath caught as she waited for his response.

John was silent for a moment, and Emily could feel the weight of his gaze. She finally looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hope. She saw the surprise in his eyes, but something else as well. Something that made her heart leap—curiosity.

John’s hand moved from her arm, tracing the line of her collarbone, his touch light and almost reverent.

“Maya, huh?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emily nodded, her eyes locked onto his. Depending on how he took this piece of bombshell news would determine whether she would feel brave enough to confess the following day’s session she’d had with Maya.

“Yes, Maya,” she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming in short gasps. She waited, her body tense, for John’s reaction.

John was silent for a moment longer, his gaze searching her face. Emily could see the wheels turning in his mind, the shock and surprise still evident, but also the ‘something else’ that she’d noticed before—a glint of curiosity, a spark of something unexpected.

“What did you do?” John asked, his voice low and steady. He was careful, cautious, as if treading on unstable ground.

“So, what did you do, Emily?” John repeated, his voice steady, almost calm.

Emily took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She realised that her next words could either shatter her or set them on a new path. She looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of anger or disgust. Instead, she saw curiosity, maybe even a hint of arousal. It gave her the courage to continue.

“I… I let her. I wanted her to touch me, John. I wanted her to… do things to me. Things I’ve never thought I’d ever do with another woman.” Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire.

John was silent for a moment, his hand still resting on Emily’s shoulder. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his attention. She braced herself, waiting for his response, her heart pounding in her chest.

Finally, John spoke. “And… did you enjoy it?” His voice was low, almost a growl, his eyes dark with an emotion Emily couldn’t quite place. It sent a shiver down her spine.

She hesitated before nodding, her eyes locked onto his. “Yes, John. I enjoyed it, it was… absolutely unbelievably amazing.”

John caught his breath, and Emily could see the effect her confession was having on him. His eyes darkened, a mix of surprise and arousal swirling in their depths. He swallowed hard, his hand moving from her shoulder to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin.

“Wow, Emily. That’s…that’s intense.”

Emily looked away, her cheeks still flushed, her nerves getting the better of her. “I know. I didn’t plan for it to happen, John. But it did, and now I… I feel it’s only right that I should tell you. You deserve to know.”

John’s thumb moved to her chin, gently encouraging her to look at him again. His eyes were intense, his gaze penetrating. “I wish you had told me sooner, Emily. But I’m glad you’re telling me now.”

Emily’s eyes searched his, looking for any sign of anger or disapproval.

She found none. Instead, she saw a raw, primal desire that made her catch her breath.

“You’re not angry with me?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

John shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “No, Emily. I’m not angry. I’m… well, I think I’m fascinated.”

Emily’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Fascinated? By what?”

John’s hand moved from her chin, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “By you. By this side of you that I’ve never seen before.”

‘Was this the appropriate time to confess that she’d also met up with Maya yesterday while he was away at the golf club,’ Emily wondered to herself. ‘Maybe not, better to give him more time to let it all sink in gradually. After all, yesterday’s activities were so much more than that first day.’ The memories of their time together were fresh and intense, far too much to divulge all at once. Emily knew that much.

John’s eyes were now alight with curiosity and something more, something that made Emily breathe more easily. “I like this side of you, Emily. I like that you’re exploring, that you’re experiencing new things. I’ve always thought you were too timid in this respect.”

Emily felt a warmth spread through her at his words. She hadn’t expected this reaction from him, but she was grateful for it. She took a deep breath, her heart still pounding. “But, John… I feel guilty. I love you, and here I am, confessing that I… I cheated on you.” Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes filling with tears. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

John’s hand moved to her chin, gently guiding her face back to him. His eyes were soft, understanding. “Hey, look at me,” he said gently. “You didn’t cheat on me, Emily. You explored something new, something you wanted to try. That’s not… well, maybe it is… but… fuck, I just can’t find the words I need to explain what I’m trying to say!”

Emily searched his face, looking for any sign of deception. She saw none. “But… but I did something with someone else. Without you.”

John nodded, acknowledging her point. “And that’s okay, These things sometimes happen, Emily. And I’ve always thought you should spread your wings a little. You know I’ve always thought of you as ‘my little innocent’, don’t you.”

‘My god,’ thought Emily, ‘he won’t think I’m so innocent when he hears what I did with Mayo yesterday.’

John’s hands moved to grip her shoulders, his touch firm and reassuring.

“I’m not going to lie, Emily. This is a lot to take in. But I’m also not going to deny that I find it a fucking turn on.”

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “A fucking turn on?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

John nodded, his lips brushing against hers. “Yeah, it does. The thought of you with another woman… it’s so fucking arousing.” He paused, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “And I want to know more. Why don’t we go back inside, make ourselves comfortable and you can tell me every single detail of what you and Maya did with each other?” John suggested, his voice thick with desire.

Emily couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. John wanted to know more. He was turned on by her confession. She felt a surge of heat between her legs at the thought.

“John, are you sure?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

John nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes, Emily. I want to know every single little detail. What she did to you, what you did to her. I want to picture it in my mind. I want to see it all.” John’s voice was low and husky, his eyes dark with desire.

Emily could see in John’s eyes that he meant every word. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

“Alright, let’s go inside then,” she said, slowly climbing out of the pool. John followed suit, his eyes never leaving hers.

He grabbed two towels from the deck chair and wrapped one around Emily’s shoulders before draping the other around himself.

“Lead the way,” he said, his voice thick with anticipation.

Emily walked ahead of him, her heart pounding with a mix of nerves, excitement, and still a touch of guilt – but that was fading fast. She couldn’t believe that this was happening, but at the same time, she was incredibly turned on by the idea.

They entered the villa, the cool air inside a stark contrast to the heat outside. Emily led John to the bedroom, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the towel around her body. She let it fall to the floor, and then slowly removed her bikini top, her eyes never leaving John’s. Then, oh so slowly, she swayed her hips as she stepped out of her bikini bottom.

John watched, admiring her perfect body as she revealed her curves to him. He felt a surge of desire, unlike anything he had felt before. This was his wife, his partner, and yet, he felt like he was seeing her for the first time.

Emily lay back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “So, where do I start?”

John sat down on the bed next to her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Start from the beginning. Talk me all the way through that massage. The massage where I was lying just 6 feet away from you,” John said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes focused entirely on Emily. She could see the tension in his body, the anticipation written all over his face.

Emily took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to remember every detail. She wanted to paint a vivid picture for John, to make him feel like he was experiencing it all with her.

“Well, it started when Maya was giving me my massage. You remember Maya asked Noon to turn the background music up, right?” Emily asked, her voice soft and steady. “Well, that was just after she’d whispered to me, ‘Would you like me to do a little bit of ‘extra’ exploring of your body? Squeeze my hand if you would like that.’ And I squeezed her hand, John. I just couldn’t resist the idea of that gorgeous young girl exploring my intimate parts,” Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes locked onto John’s.

“And what did she do then?” John asked, his voice thick with anticipation.

“She continued massaging the small of my back, and then, her fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of my ass. I felt a shiver run through me.”

John’s eyes were focused on Emily’s face, taking in every detail, every expression. He could see the memories playing out behind her eyes, and it turned him on even more. “And then what? What did she do?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

Emily took a deep breath, her body flushing with heat as she recalled the memory.

“She whispered something else, something about how beautiful my ass was, and then she… she started to move lower. Slowly, so slowly, her fingers tracing the curve of my hip, my thigh, until they reached the apex of my legs. She ran her fingers so teasingly close to my pussy lips, so gently, giving me the chance to back out if I wanted. Then she parted my folds, and I felt her fingertip brush against my clit. Just a soft touch, but it sent shivers through me. I gasped, and she smiled, a small, secret smile.” Emily’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but the intensity in her eyes was unmistakable.

John felt his cock twitch at the thought of Maya’s fingers on his wife, exploring her most intimate places. He shifted on the bed, his erection growing painful under his swimming trunks.

“Did she… did she touch you more?” John asked, his voice hoarse with need. He reached out, cupping Emily’s cheek, his thumb brushing against her hot skin.

Emily nodded, her eyes never leaving John’s. “She slid one finger between my folds, just barely inside me. I could sense her hesitance, like she was waiting for a sign, waiting for permission.”

John caught his breath, his cock throbbing at the image.

“Did you give it to her, Emily?” He leaned in, his voice a low growl, his eyes dark with desire.

Emily swallowed hard, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. She nodded, her eyes locked onto John’s. “I think opening my legs wider and moaning with pleasure were all she needed from me.” She paused, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “And then she pushed her finger in deeper, slowly at first, giving me time to adjust. Then she started to move, slowly, gently, in and out, her thumb circling my clit. It felt… fucking amazing, John.” Emily’s voice was a low moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she recalled the sensation.

John watched as a blush crept up Emily’s neck, spreading across her chest and down to her breasts. He could see her nipples hardening, and he felt his cock twitch in response.

“What did she do next?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, tracing the line of her collarbone with his fingertips, feeling her shiver under his touch.

Emily opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto John’s. “She started to move faster, her fingers fucking me harder, deeper. It was such an effort to keep quiet, John. I was panting, trying to keep my moans to a whisper. And then she leaned in, her breath hot on my ear. She whispered something in my ear, something about how beautiful I was, how much she wanted me.” Emily’s voice was a low moan, her body squirming slightly on the bed.

John’s cock was now painfully hard. He reached down and adjusted himself, trying to find some relief. He was turned on beyond belief, his wife’s words painting a vivid picture in his mind.

“What did she say, Emily?” John’s voice was thick with desire, his eyes never leaving hers. He could see the effect recalling this for him was having on her, the way her body squirmed slightly on the bed, the soft moans that were escaping her lips.

Emily’s eyes fluttered closed as she recalled Maya’s whispered words.

“Well, first of all she slipped her finger out of me with a wet slurp. I whined, missing her touch already. Then she leaned down close to my ear and whispered, ‘We’ve only about 10 minutes, 15 max, of this session left. Is there anything else you’d like me to do before the session ends? What do you say?’ she asked. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, as I tried to find the perfect response. I finally whispered, ‘Do it,’ surrendering to the animalistic need that had taken over me since my first sight of Maya.”

“Do what?” John asked, his voice thick with anticipation.

“Finger my ass,” Emily whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I actually gave her permission to finger my asshole. Maya looked down at me and whispered, ‘Now, it’s time for the final act, my lovely.’ She poured oil over my ass and began to rub it in, her fingers trailing over my skin, making me shiver in anticipation. I could feel her finger circling my asshole, teasing it, pressing just a little bit. I tensed at first, but she just whispered, ‘Relax, my lovely. Just relax,’ and I did. I took a deep breath and let myself go, let myself sink into the sensation of her touch. She slipped her finger inside me, slowly, gently, and I gasped at the sudden fullness. ‘Relax,’ she whispered again, her voice soothing and reassuring. I took a deep breath and tried to relax, my body adjusting to the intrusion. She moved her finger slowly in and out, adding more oil, her touch measured and deliberate. I could feel every inch of her finger inside me.

“Did she make you cum?” John asked.

“No,” Emily smiled to herself at the recollection. “Do you remember you came through the curtain when your massage with Noon had finished?”

“Yes,” John replied with a confused look on his face. “Why?”

“Because I was right on the verge of cumming right at that point but your interruption was enough to stop it just like that!” Emily said with a click of her fingers. “She still had her finger deep in my ass under the sheet as you walked past me. You just had no idea.”

“Oh, so she hasn’t actually made you cum yet, then?” John asked.

Emily realised this was the moment she’d have to decide whether to confess to her second meeting with Maya, the next day.

She knew John’s reaction to the first encounter was positive, but how would he take it if she told him they’d met again in Maya’s room, and this time, they’d actually fucked each other passionately? Her mind raced, but she decided, fuck it! Confess everything now, get it all out in one go. It might be too much for him, but she owed him the truth.

“John, there’s more, and you might not like it,” Emily said with a sigh, her green eyes meeting his deep blue ones. “I had another, longer encounter with Maya yesterday.”

John’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean another encounter?”

 

“After you left for the golf club, I met Maya in her room. I wanted her to make me cum, John. I wanted her to fuck me. And I wanted to fuck her.”

John’s jaw dropped, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You…you… you are a little sly one, aren’t you,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Okay, keep going. I want to know every fucking detail. And when you’ve finished, I think I’m going to enjoy fucking you.”

Emily took a deep breath, her body trembling with a mix of excitement and anxiety. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she also knew that she couldn’t keep this secret from John any longer.

“Okay – so I got a written message from her at breakfast, our waitress gave it to me with the tab. It was written on a piece of paper and just said ‘Room 26 – 11:30am – M.   xx’,” Emily explained. “I knew exactly what it meant. So, I went to her room at 11:30, she let me in and we made passionate love for the next couple of hours or so. It was fucking amazing, John. We tried every position you can think of and then some. We licked, sucked, fucked, and fucked some more.”

Emily’s voice was a low growl, her eyes never leaving John’s as she revealed the intimate details of her encounter with Maya. She could see the effect her words were having on John, the way his body was reacting to her confession.

She leaned towards him and reached for his cock, which was eager to be released.

“Is this turning you on, John? The thought of me with another woman? The thought of me fucking her, fucking her hard?” Emily asked, her voice dripping with desire as she slowly pulled down his trunks, revealing his rock hard cock.

John groaned as his cock sprang free, his hips thrusting forward slightly, eager for her touch. “Fuck, yes,” he growled. “The thought of you with another woman, another fucking hot woman… it’s making me so fucking hard, Emily.”

Emily wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking him slowly, her eyes locked onto his. “So, what would you like me to do now, John?” Emily asked, her voice a low purr as she continued to stroke his cock, her hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes. She knew what she wanted to do, but she wanted him to guide her, to tell her exactly what he wanted from her.

“I think you know what I’d like you to do, you little tease!” John growled, his eyes locked onto Emily’s, his hand fisting her hair. He pulled her head down, forcing her to take his cock deep into her mouth with a groan.

“Suck it, Emily. Suck my fucking cock,” he commanded, his voice thick with lust.

Emily moaned around his cock, her eyes watering as she took him deep. She loved the taste of him, the feel of him, the way he dominated her. She sucked him harder, her cheeks hollowing as she bobbed her head up and down.

John groaned, his hips thrusting forward, fucking her mouth.

Emily took him deeper, her nose pressing against his abdomen. She looked up at him, her eyes watering, mascara smudging down her cheeks.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all,” he grunted, his hand tightening in her hair. “Show me what a good little slut you are.”

Emily moaned around his cock, these new filthy words sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. It was so different from the way he usually was with her. This was so raw and primal.

Emily felt a surge of heat between her legs at the thought of John watching her with another woman, at the thought of him calling her a slut. She sucked him harder, her head bobbing up and down, her saliva dripping down his shaft.

“That’s right, Emily,” he growled. “Take it all. Show me what that dirty little mouth can do.”

Emily’s eyes watered as she took his entire length. She gagged slightly, but she didn’t stop. She relaxed her throat and took him deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of her throat.

John groaned, his hips thrusting forward, fucking her mouth with slow, deep strokes.

“Fuck, Emily. Look at you, you’re a changed woman. I like it,” John growled, his voice thick with lust. He watched as Emily continued to suck him, her eyes watering, her mascara running down her cheeks. He loved seeing her like this, dirty and desperate.

He reached down and cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her hard nipples. He pinched them, just hard enough to make her gasp around his cock. “You like that, don’t you?” he growled.

Emily nodded slightly. She could sense that he was nearing his climax, and the thought sent a wave of heat coursing through her. She wanted him to cum, wanted to feel his hot seed spilling down her throat. She quickened her pace, taking him deeper, sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing out as she worked him with her mouth.

John groaned. He could feel the familiar tingling sensation starting at the base of his spine, spreading outwards. He thrust his hips forward, fucking her mouth harder, his grip on her hair tightening.

“You’re going to make me cum. I can feel it.” He groaned, his hips thrusting harder, fucking her mouth with quick, short strokes.

Emily moaned. She could feel his cock swell even more, the veins standing out as he neared his climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” John groaned, as he released himself into Emily’s mouth. He held her head still, his cock buried deep in her throat, as he shot his load, his body convulsing with pleasure. He kept his grip on her hair tight, guiding her head back and forth, milking every last drop of cum from his cock.

Emily gagged slightly as John came, but she didn’t stop. She took every fucking drop of his cum, her throat working around his cock, swallowing it all down. She loved the taste of him, the feel of him, the way he fucked her mouth so roughly. She felt so damn dirty and used, and she found it such a fucking turn on.

John took a step back, his eyes raking over her body, appreciating the sight of her on her knees, his cum dripping from her mouth. “Fuck, Emily. You look so fucking hot like that.”

Emily’s body was on fire with lust. She was so turned on that she thought she might cum just from his words alone. She licked her lips, tasting his cum, and let out a soft moan. “I need you to make me cum, John,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I want to feel you inside me.”

John smirked, his cock limp, still dripping cum. “Get on the bed, Emily. On all fours.” His voice was commanding, and Emily obeyed without hesitation. She crawled onto the bed, her ass in the air, her pussy lips glistening with her arousal.

John walked around the bed, admiring the view from behind. He slapped her ass cheek, hard, and Emily jerked but didn’t cry out. “You look fucking incredible,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He stepped closer, his hand gripping her other ass cheek, squeezing hard. “So, I didn’t realise you liked having your ass played with. That’s something Maya has introduced you to, is it?” John’s voice was a low rumble, his hands massaging Emily’s ass, his touch firm and possessive.

Emily nodded, a shiver running down her spine at the memory. “Yes, she fucked my ass every way imaginable. It was incredible, John. And I fucked hers too.”

“Did you now?” John said, an idea forming in his mind. He continued to massage Emily’s ass, his touch firm and possessive. “Do you know if she’s at work today? It looked to me as though it could be her day off when we saw her at breakfast, didn’t it?” John asked. “If she’s free, do you think she’d be up to giving you a farewell session?” he added, his hands continuing to massage Emily’s ass, his touch growing more aggressive with every passing moment.

Emily let out a soft moan, her body squirming under John’s touch. “I don’t know, John. But the thought of it… the thought of both of us fucking each other… in front of you… it’s driving me insane.”

John’s cock twitched at the thought. The thought of watching Maya touch his wife, of seeing Emily’s body writhe with pleasure at the hands of another woman, was so incredibly arousing. It was a fantasy that had often crossed his mind, but he had never expected it to be a reality. And yet, here it was, presented to him by his own wife.

“Well, why don’t you ask her?” John said, his voice low and husky. He could feel his cock stirring again at the mere thought. “Maybe she’d be interested. It could be a little going away present for our trip, so to speak.”

Emily turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You…you’re okay with that? You want to watch me with her?”

John nodded, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Hell yeah, I’m okay with that. And fuck, do I want to watch you with her. The thought of seeing you two together… it’s making me so fucking hard again. Do you have her number? Why not give her a call now?” John said. “Ask her if she’s free. Explain that you’ve confessed all to me and  that it’s made me as horny as shit. See if she wants to come over.”

Emily hesitated for a moment, then reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found Maya’s number. She took a deep breath and then hit call.

Maya picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Emily?” her voice was smooth and seductive.

“Hi Maya, it’s me. Listen, I was wondering if you were free today. My husband and I have a… proposition for you. I’ve told him all about our relationship and he’s being really supportive about it.” Emily’s voice was a low purr, her eyes locked onto John’s as she spoke into the phone.

Maya’s voice was a low murmur on the other end of the line. “Oh, really? And what might this proposition be?”

Emily’s cheeks flushed, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked up at John, saw the hunger and anticipation in his eyes. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “John wants to watch us together. He wants to watch you and I… fuck each other.”

There was a pause, and then Maya’s voice was a low growl. “Is that so? And how do you feel about that, Emily?” Maya asked. Emily could picture her, a smirk on her face, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I… I want it. I’d love you to fuck me while he watches,” Emily admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel her pussy clenching at the thought, her body already aching for Maya’s touch.

John watched as Emily’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He could see the desire in her face, the need.

Maya’s voice was a low growl in her ear. “Let’s do this. Sounds as though it could be a lot of fun!” Her voice was a low purr, her words laced with innuendo.

“Yes, it will be,” Emily said, her voice low and husky. “So, could you come round soon?”

“How about now? Is that soon enough for you?” Maya said, with a sultry purr.

“Yes, that’s perfect. Come over now. We’re in Villa 3,” Emily excitedly said.

“Oh, one of those fancy beach facing villas. Yes, I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Don’t you dare start without me,” Maya teased, before hanging up.

Emily looked at John, his eyes wide with anticipation. “She’ll be here in about 15 minutes.”

“Wow, 15 minutes – that’s perfect,” John said, a grin spreading across his face. “You know what, Emily? Let’s make the room perfect for her. You know – candles, diffusers, etc,” John suggested.

Emily nodded and immediately got to work. She lit a few candles and placed them around the room, the soft glow casting a warm ambiance. She grabbed the diffuser from the bathroom and filled it with a few drops of lavender oil, then placed it strategically on the dresser. She turned on some soft, sensual music on the in-house music system, letting the melodic tunes fill the room.

John watched her, admiring her confident strides as she prepared the room. He couldn’t believe how much he was looking forward to this encounter.

Suddenly, another thought came into John’s mind. “And you must put on your sexiest lingerie.”

“Which do you think is sexiest – the black set, or the white or red set?”, Emily asked.

“Definitely go for the black set, it always makes your tits look fucking incredible,” John replied.

Emily smiled and went to the wardrobe, pulling out the black lace underwear that John had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She slipped it on, admiring her reflection in the mirror. The lace clung to her curves perfectly, accentuating her voluptuous body. She turned to John, a smirk on her face and asked,  “How do I look?”

John’s eyes widened as he took her in. “Fucking amazing, Emily. You look so fucking sexy in that,” he growled.

Then, suddenly Emily looked panicked, “And you John – you must put something on. You can’t be standing there stark naked when she arrives. Quick,” she said with a touch of panic in her voice.

John nodded and quickly grabbed his swimming shorts, pulling them on just as the doorbell rang.

Emily’s heart leapt into her throat as she looked at John, her eyes wide with anticipation and a hint of trepidation as she walked to the door.

She took a deep breath and opened it with a beaming smile on her face.

The first thing I felt when I woke up wasn’t sunlight or the weight of the blanket — it was her warm fingers, slow and deliberate, rolling one of my nipples between them.

My eyes fluttered open, and there she was — Teagan — lying beside me, the sheet barely covering her hips, her tanned body lying on her side, looking at me… like she wanted to own me.

Her blue eyes locked onto mine the second I stirred, and I noted that familiar smirk from her lips.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice low and rough with sleep, but dripping with something else entirely — pure lust.

She continued rolling my nipple between her fingers, tugging lightly, making the fire inside of me stir.

“Couldn’t resist,” she added, her eyes dropping to my chest. “You looked too good lying here all delicious like.”

I was bare from the waist up, nipples already hard, ready for her to play with. The ache between my legs from last night hadn’t fully faded, and it was flaring right back to life.

Her hand slid lower, fingers tracing along my stomach, over my waist, teasing the dip of my hip. Her mouth followed, lips pressing a soft, warm kiss to my collarbone, then lower, her breath hot against my skin, making me melt.

I let out a shaky exhale, my body already reacting, the dull throb between my thighs building fast. Her tongue began licking my nipple before sucking it gently into her mouth. 

Her sucking on my nipple sent a pulse straight through me. I arched toward her, my hands sliding into her soft, messy blonde hair as she sucked harder, teasing with her tongue.

“Was this an ok way to wake you up?” she teased, her voice soft, sensual.

In response, I slid my hand between her thighs, finding it already wet, waiting for me — slick, warm, wanting.

A slow, soft exhale, her hips pressing into my hand.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my fingers teasing her slowly, spreading her lips open and sliding through her slit. “Wide awake.”

Her laugh was low, breathy, and then her mouth was back on me — kissing down my chest, licking along my stomach, her hand sliding down to part my thighs.

There was no hesitation this time, no shyness — just raw, hungry confidence. Her fingers teased along my slit, spreading me open as her mouth followed, her tongue licking lightly over my clit.

I moaned softly, my hips shifting toward her mouth, the sleepy haze completely burned away by the gift of her tongue all over me.

She licked me with slow, lazy strokes at first — teasing, tasting — then her tongue flattened, circling my clit with steady, relentless pressure that had me wanting more, more.

My thighs trembled as her fingers slid inside me — two this time — curling perfectly, zeroing in on that spot inside that made my whole body react.

“God, you’re so fucking wet already,” Teagan whispered, her voice low, wicked.

I couldn’t form words — just fisted the sheets, breath ragged, as her fingers worked me over, fast, relentless, the orgasm building like a storm I couldn’t hold back.

“Teagan… fuck… don’t stop…” I gasped, my voice raw, broken.

She didn’t. Her fingers kept driving into me, faster, rougher, working my G-spot — and when my hips bucked, the wave snapped loose, crashing through me as a hot stream squirted past the side of her head.

My whole body locked up, the climax tearing through me, a strangled cry ripping from my throat. But she didn’t stop. She kept going — fingers attacking my G-spot like she was determined to break me.

She slowed for barely a minute, teasing, giving me the illusion of a break — then her fingers dove right back in, deliberate, focused, grinding into my G-spot until my body convulsed again.

The second wave slammed into me hard — my back arched, head pressing into the pillow, a guttural groan, and another messy stream squirted out of me, soaking the sheets.

“Okay, okay… I need a break…” I panted, struggling for air.

“No, not yet,” she smirked, her eyes dark, dangerous — and immediately her fingers slammed back inside, relentless.

The pressure built fast — too fast — and then I was gone again. The wave tore through me, my whole body jerking, thighs trembling, another hot stream shooting from my pussy, soaking everything — Teagan included.

“Break… break…” I gasped, shaking.

This time her fingers eased out of me. She kissed along my thighs, slow, soft, wicked — letting me catch my breath.

When I finally opened my eyes, she was crawling back up beside me. Her face still glistening from the absolute mess she’d just made of me. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, my body still trembling from the relentless way she’d worked me over — no breaks, no mercy, just fingers attacking my G-spot over and over until I lost total control. FUCK!!

We kissed, tasting the results of my orgasms on her lips and tongue, OMG! 

When she backed up for me to get a look at her, I had to laugh.

“Let me get you a towel,” I jumped up and started to walk to my bathroom. That was when I got my first glimpse of the carnage that we had caused. 

 Not only was Teagan’s face covered, but my sheets were soaked. 

Returning with a towel, I laughed as I dabbed my fluids from her face, stopping once in a while, giving her a peck on the lips. 

But now? It was her turn.

I grabbed her wrist, flipping her onto her back. Her eyes widened, a startled laugh escaping her lips, but the second she saw the look in my eyes — lusty, revengeful — her breath caught.

“Oh,” she whispered, her teasing confidence faltering for just a second.

I crawled on top of her, straddling her hips, my fingers sliding down her stomach, teasing along her bare skin. “No breaks for you either, babe,” I whispered darkly, my voice low and rough with leftover arousal.

I kissed her hard, messy, our tongues tangling, my hand slipping lower between her thighs. She was soaked already — her smooth pussy, warm, glistening with how worked up she’d gotten fingering me.

I wasted no time — my fingers slid inside her, two at once, curling, looking for that sensitive spot that made me go crazy. OH, there it was! That soft, spongy spot that makes for amazing, intense orgasms. 

I started slowly, circling my fingers, rubbing softly. 

As her body reacted, I changed how I worked my fingers inside of her. I mimicked what she had done to me, learning as I went.

She gasped, her back arching, hips lifting off the bed.

“Fuck, Sydney…” she groaned, her voice already breaking.

I didn’t let up — I curled my fingers deliberately, steady and relentless, my palm pressing against her as I watched her unravel.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth falling open in a shaky moan as her thighs trembled.

But I wasn’t done — not even close.

I slid down her body, kissing along her stomach, her hips, before settling between her legs. My tongue flicked over, around and through her pussy. Tasting her, teasing, while my fingers kept pumping inside her, curling just right, steady and rough.

“Please, don’t stop,” she gasped, her hands grabbing the sheets, her whole body tight with tension.

I wasn’t stopping, My tongue circled her clit as my fingers attacked her G-spot with focused precision.

It didn’t take long — her head raised, her body bucked, and then…

A gush of warmth coated my hand and face. A soft, wet splatter covered my wrist and face as she let out a strangled, broken moan.

She’d gushed everywhere.

“Holy fuck…” she gasped, her whole body shaking.

But I didn’t stop. I kept fingering her, my tongue licking her clit relentlessly, working her through it and right into the next.

Her moans turned desperate, raw, her hips rocking, pushing into me — I held her there, no mercy, my fingers working hard against that sweet, sensitive love button inside her.

The second orgasm hit her even harder — her back arched, her breath caught, and another warm gush soaked me, dripping down her thighs, my hand, and face, soaking the sheets.

“Fuck! Syd!” she cried out, her voice cracking, eyes squeezing shut.

I still didn’t stop.

Her thighs trembled as I worked her with my fingers and mouth. Working her G Spot, licking her clit, teasing her mercilessly.

She squirted again — hard this time, a messy, soaking gush that splattered across my hand, face, and the bed.

Her body was shaking, helpless, and I didn’t let up.

“Break… break,” she tried to gasp, her voice high, wrecked, broken.

I pulled back just enough to grin up at her, my face glistening, my fingers still deep inside her. “Nope… not yet.”

I slid my free hand along her inner thigh, spreading her wider, watching as her pussy clenched helplessly around my fingers, still dripping, flushed, soaked.

Then I lowered my mouth again, tongue lapping at her clit, fingers attacking her, and the pressure inside her built fast — her body completely out of her control.

“Fuck— Sydney— I’m— oh god—”

She came hard again, her whole body convulsing as another messy, soaking stream gushed from her pussy, coating my hand, my face, dripping onto the bed.

I continued, not giving her a choice. Again, again, again I made her cum, squirting all over me and the bed.

By the time I finally eased my fingers out of her, her body was weak — trembling, flushed, her blue eyes glassy, her breath coming in sharp, desperate pants.

I crawled back up her body, kissing her softly, teasing, tasting her sweetness on my tongue and lips.

Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe, her hand weakly gripping my wrist.

“You’re evil,” she whispered, her voice raw, completely gone.

I just smiled against her lips. “You started it.”

Teagan lay beneath me, flushed, breathless, her body still trembling from the relentless mess I’d made of her. The sheets were soaked, her thighs glistening, a faint sheen of sweat clinging to her skin.

Her blue eyes fluttered open as I kissed her softly, slower this time, our lips moving together, tongues lazily tangling, tasting, teasing.

“Okay… I deserved that,” she breathed when we finally broke apart, her voice still hoarse, but that teasing spark was creeping back into her eyes.

I smiled against her lips, nipping at them playfully. “You did.”

Her hand slid down my side, fingers trailing along my hip. “But you’re not done, are you?”

I shook my head, kissing her again, slower, deeper. “Not even close.”

She let out a soft laugh, breath shaky, as we kissed — slow, messy, all tongue, our bodies tangled together on top of the soaked sheets.

My hand slid between her legs again, fingers teasing her pussy, still soaked, still sensitive. She whimpered softly, her hips shifting toward me, that raw, desperate need building all over again.

“Your turn,” I whispered against her lips.

She grinned, her hand sliding between my thighs, her fingers teasing along my pussy, spreading me open, finding me just as ready, just as desperate.

We kissed again, tongues wet and eager, our hands working between each other’s legs, fingers slipping inside, curling hard against that sweet, sensitive spot.

We found a rhythm fast — our hips rocking, fingers pumping, relentless.

I moaned into her mouth as her fingers hit my G-spot perfectly, the pressure building fast, sharp, unbearable. My fingers curled inside her just as hard, stroking her deep, watching her break apart beneath me.

“Oh fuck… Syd…” she gasped, her voice cracking, her hips jerking.

“Cum for me,” I whispered, fingering her harder, faster.

She did — hard — her body tensing, thighs trembling as another gush soaked my hand, her moans, music to my ears.

At the same time, her fingers worked me right back—fast, relentless, making me explode. My orgasm crashed over me, sharp and overwhelming, my whole body bucking against her hand as I came, soaking everything within the splash zone.

We didn’t stop.

Our hands moved faster, fingering, pumping, teasing — no breaks, no mercy.

Another orgasm ripped through me, my body tightening, another stream gushing from me, soaking the sheets even more.

Teagan whimpered, her hips rocking, her pussy clenching around my fingers as she squirted again, her body shaking under me.

We barely had time to breathe before we were wrecking each other again — fingers attacking G-spots, tongues tangling, breathless moans filling the room.

A third orgasm built fast, sharp, our bodies completely out of control, and then…

We both came again — hard. So hard, I got dizzy and thought I was about to faint.  

Messy, soaking everything, trembling, gasping, our hands never stopping until we were both shaking, completely spent.

By the time our hands finally stilled, we were both soaked. Our skin glistened with sweat and slick and spit, the sheets beneath us a complete disaster. The whole bed, the room smelled like sex — hot and raw and real — and I loved it.

My fingers slipped from her slowly, gently, and hers did the same, our bodies weak as we tried to breathe through the carnage we’d created in each other. Every inch of me buzzed, sensitive and pulsing, completely undone. My legs felt weak. My chest felt light. My head swam with the dizzy haze.

I collapsed onto her chest, letting gravity take me.

Teagan opened her arms without a word, and I curled into her, my head resting on her bare chest, her heartbeat still racing under my cheek. She felt hot and soft and safe. Her fingers stroked lazily through my hair, and we just lay there like that for a long time. No pressure. No performance. Just breathing.

“Are you alive?” she asked softly after a while, her voice soft, sensual.

“Barely,” I murmured. “I can’t feel my legs.”

She laughed — low, throaty, satisfied. “I don’t think I’ve ever squirted that hard in my life.”

“You were soaked,” I grinned weakly. “We both were.”

“You made me like that,” she whispered, kissing the top of my head. “Felt like I was gonna drown.”

“You deserved it.”

Her hand slid gently along my back, settling on my hip. “Yeah… I did.”

We stayed there in silence a little longer — tangled, warm, soft, the air still thick with the afterglow. My limbs felt like jelly. My skin tingled. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to ruin the feeling.

But eventually, the stickiness of everything caught up to us.

Teagan wrinkled her nose. “We’re disgusting.”

“Filthy,” I agreed, not moving.

“Shower?”

I groaned. “Only if you carry me.”

She snorted. “Not a chance. You’re walking, Bambi legs.”

I rolled onto my back dramatically, moaning as my muscles protested. “You broke me.”

She leaned over and kissed me, slow and sweet and full of mischief. “You’ll recover.”

Eventually, we stumbled to the shower. Warm water hit our skin, and we just stood there for a minute, letting it wash away each other’s juices. I leaned against the wall as she lathered soap across my body with gentle, teasing hands, like she still hadn’t quite had enough of me.

“Don’t even think about starting round three,” I warned playfully, my voice echoing off the tile.

She raised her eyebrows with a grin. “Just washing your thighs…”

I gave her a look.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, raising her hands. “Breakfast first. Then we’ll see.”

We toweled off, did our hair and makeup, dressed slowly, lazily, every movement still a little drunk with leftover pleasure. She slipped into her tank top and cute, tiny shorts but without undies. I threw on leggings and a t-shirt, no bra. I wanted the outline of my nipples to be seen, enjoyed by her, others. 

We headed out for breakfast a little after nine.

It felt surreal — sitting across from her in a tiny booth at a diner near my house, sipping OJ, her foot resting casually against mine under the table. We talked about nothing at first. The food. The playlist. The waitress’s long fake nails. We laughed.

But when her eyes met mine across the table, something shifted again.

It wasn’t nerves anymore. It wasn’t curiosity.

It was connection.

And I realized — what happened last night? This morning?

It wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. It was the start of something truly amazing.

Maya stood there, looking as radiant as ever in a skimpy sundress that left little to the imagination. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in loose curls, and her deep brown eyes sparkled with approval as she took in Emily’s attire.

“Well, well, well,” Maya purred, stepping inside and putting her bag down onto the coffee table by the sofa. “Isn’t this a nice surprise. So much better than a clandestine meeting later this evening.”

Maya swayed her hips, her eyes taking in the room, the candles, the music, the bed, and finally, John.

John stepped forward, his hand on Emily’s shoulder.

“We’re glad you could make it, Maya. Aren’t we, Emily?” he said, his voice a low rumble. He looked at Emily, his eyes dark with desire.

Emily nodded, her eyes locked onto Maya’s. “Yes, we are. We’re both looking forward to this,” she said, her voice a low purr.

Maya stepped closer, her hands reaching out to grasp Emily’s waist. “I can see that,” she murmured, her eyes flicking down to the obvious bulge in John’s shorts. “I think it’s time we got started, don’t you, John?”

John nodded, his cock already throbbing at the thought of what was to come. He watched as Maya’s hands roamed over Emily’s body, her touch light and yet somehow possessive. He could see the goosebumps rising on Emily’s skin, could see the way her nipples hardened under Maya’s touch.

“Let’s get you out of this, shall we?” Maya whispered, her fingers already working the thin straps of Emily’s black bra.

She slipped one strap down, then the other, revealing Emily’s full, heaving breasts. She cupped them, her thumbs brushing against Emily’s hard nipples, making her gasp.

John watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen anything so fucking hot in his life.

“Fuck, that’s so beautiful,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Maya looked up at him, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “You think so? Watch this,” Maya said, her voice a low purr as she leaned in and took one of Emily’s nipples into her mouth. She sucked and licked, her tongue flicking against the hard bud. Emily gasped, her back arching as pleasure ripped through her.

John watched, his breath coming in short gasps. He reached down and adjusted himself, trying to find some relief from the ache in his balls. He couldn’t believe how turned on he was, watching Maya suck on his wife’s tits.

Maya leaned back, her eyes locked onto John’s. “See? She’s fucking delicious, John. These nipples taste so fucking amazing.” Maya spoke against Emily’s skin, her words sending shivers down Emily’s spine. John groaned at the sight of Maya’s mouth on Emily’s breast, at the way her tongue swirled around Emily’s nipple.

“You want me to taste her, don’t you, John?” Maya asked, her eyes locked onto John’s. She knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the desire that was practically radiating off him.

John nodded, his cock throbbing painfully in his shorts. “Yes, taste her, Maya,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Taste her fucking tits. Taste her all over.”

Maya smirked, her eyes gleaming with wicked intent. She turned back to Emily, her hands cupping her breasts, her thumbs brushing against her hard nipples. “You heard our man, Emily. He wants me to taste you.” She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to lick a trail from the base of Emily’s breast to the tip of her nipple. Emily gasped, her hips bucking forward as Maya’s tongue made contact with her sensitive skin.

Maya chuckled, a low, sultry sound that sent shivers down Emily’s spine.

“You like that, don’t you, Emily?” She looked up at Emily, her eyes gleaming with desire.

Emily nodded, unable to form words. Maya’s touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She watched as Maya’s tongue continued to trace a path across her skin, circling her nipple before taking it into her mouth again.

“Fuck, she’s so damn responsive,” Maya murmured, looking at John, who by now had decided to sit down on the sofa. “She loves my tongue on her tits, doesn’t she?”

John nodded. “Yes, I can see she fucking loves it. But I want to see more, Maya. I want to see you eat her fucking cunt.”

Emily gasped at John’s words, her body flushing with heat. She had never heard him talk like this before, and it was turning her on beyond belief.

Maya smiled, her eyes gleaming with lust. “I think that can be arranged,” she said, her voice a low purr.

She turned to Emily, her eyes gleaming with lust. “So, are you ready to get totally fucked, Emily?”

Emily let out a low moan, her body already aching for Maya. She nodded, her eyes locked onto Maya’s.

“Good girl,” Maya murmured. She turned to John, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “And what about you, John? Are you ready to watch your little slut wife get fucked by another woman?”

John’s cock twitched at Maya’s words, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

He watched as Maya turned back to Emily, her eyes dark with lust. She pushed Emily gently onto the bed, making her rest on her back. Emily spread her legs, her juices already glistening on her pussy lips.

Maya climbed onto the bed, her body straddling Emily’s. She leaned down, her hands gripping Emily’s hips, and she brought her own pussy to Emily’s face.

“Taste me, Emily,” Maya ordered, her voice low and husky.

Emily, eager to please, reached out and grabbed Maya’s hips, pulling her closer. Maya was wearing no panties under her sundress. She let out a soft moan as she felt Maya’s wet pussy lips graze against her cheek. She could smell her, the musky scent of her arousal filling her nostrils. She stuck out her tongue and tasted her, a long, slow lick from her opening to her clit. She heard Maya let out a soft gasp above her, and it spurred her on.

“Fuck, yes,” Maya moaned, her hips grinding against Emily’s face. “Lick that clit, Emily. Show me how much you love to eat cunt,” Maya ordered, her voice hoarse with desire. Emily moaned in response, her tongue flattening against Maya’s clit, swirling around the sensitive bud. She felt Maya’s hips start to grind against her face, her movements growing more urgent.

John watched from the sofa, his cock in his hand, stroking slowly as he took in the scene before him. It was such a turn on, watching his wife tongue-fuck another woman.

Emily’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her eyes glazed with lust. She was so into it, so eager to please Maya.

Maya was moaning now, her hips thrusting against Emily’s face, her hands gripping Emily’s hair. “Fuck yes, Emily, just like that. You’re a natural, aren’t you? You’re making me so fucking wet.” Maya’s voice was a low growl, her hips moving faster, her pussy grinding against Emily’s face. “But I mustn’t let you make me cum just yet. We’ve so much more to show John. Haven’t we John?”

Maya’s voice was a low purr as she pushed Emily gently back onto the bed, making her lie flat on her back. She climbed off and moved to the foot of the bed, her eyes locked onto Emily’s glistening pussy.

“Oh honey, you look so fucking delicious. Open your legs a bit wider, let’s see that pretty pussy of yours,” Maya ordered.

John couldn’t believe how hot this was, watching Maya talk dirty to his wife while she lay there completely exposed. He could see Emily’s pussy glistening with her arousal, her inner lips swollen and dark with desire.

Maya leaned down, her hands on Emily’s thighs, her face inches away from her pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet, Emily. Look at your wife’s cunt, John. It’s shimmering with her juices. God, I love the sight and smell of a wet cunt. I just want to fucking dive in and eat it, don’t I, John?” Maya said, her voice a low growl. She looked up at John, her eyes gleaming with lust. She saw the hunger in his eyes, the desire that was practically radiating off him. “Fuck, yes. Eat her, Maya. Eat that fucking gorgeous cunt,” John growled, his voice thick with desire.

He’d never actually used the word cunt with Emily before today, it just wasn’t part of their vocabulary – but hearing Maya say it had ignited something primal inside him. He watched as Maya licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with lust as she looked down at Emily’s wet pussy.

“With pleasure,” Maya purred, her voice low and sultry.

She leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow path from the base of Emily’s pussy to the top of her slit. Emily let out a low moan, her hips bucking slightly as Maya’s tongue made contact with her sensitive skin.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Emily groaned, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.

She spread her legs wider, giving Maya better access. Maya let out a soft moan, her tongue already working its magic on Emily’s clit. She circled it, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud, before sucking it gently into her mouth.

John couldn’t believe how fucking hot this was, watching Maya eat his wife’s pussy. He could see the way Emily’s body responded to Maya’s touch, her hips squirming, her back arching as she ground her pussy against Maya’s face.

He could hear her moans, low and breathy, her voice thick with desire. He could see her tits heaving, her nipples hard and dark, begging for attention.

Maya’s tongue worked in slow, languid strokes, exploring every inch of Emily’s pussy. She licked up and down her slit, tasting her juices, before circling her clit, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. Emily let out a loud moan, her hips bucking against Maya’s face.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.” Emily moaned.

Maya could feel Emily’s orgasm building, could sense the tension in her body, the tell-tale way her muscles were tensing up. She knew Emily was close, but she also knew all about the pleasures of denial. Especially with John watching. So she eased up on the intensity of her licks, teasing her with soft, slow strokes of her tongue.

Emily let out a frustrated groan. “Please, Maya. I need to cum. Please make me cum.”

Maya looked up at John, who was stroking his cock with a fierce rhythm. She could see the lust in his eyes, the way he was biting his lower lip as he watched. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her, and it was turning her on even more.

“Fuck her, Maya,” John growled. “I want to see you fucking fuck her,” John groaned, desperate to see some of the things that Emily had confessed to him earlier.

Emily looked at Maya, her eyes pleading. “Please make me cum. Any way you want – but please make me cum, Maya.”

Maya looked up at John, a wicked smile spreading across her face. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the way his cock was straining against his shorts. She knew what he wanted, what he needed. She turned back to Emily, her eyes dark with lust.

“I think it’s time for me to give you what you need, Emily,” Maya growled, her voice thick with desire. “Are you ready for that special fuck, baby?”

Emily nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. “Yes, Maya. Fuck me. Make me cum.”

Maya climbed off the bed and walked over to her bag. She pulled out a small bottle of lube and her strap-on dildo.

She held them up for John to see, a smirk playing on her lips. “I think you’ll like this, John. Time for you to learn some new tricks.”

Maya turned to Emily, a wicked glint in her eyes. “On your hands and knees, Emily. I want to see that perfect ass of yours up in the air for me.”

Emily complied, eager to please both Maya and John. She got onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air, her pussy glistening with her juices. John watched, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he took in the sight before him. His cock was throbbing painfully in his hand, his balls aching with the need for release.

Maya stepped closer, her eyes roaming over Emily’s body. She loved the way Emily’s body trembled with anticipation, the way her cheeks were flushed with heat. She ran her hand over Emily’s ass, her touch firm and possessive.

“Fuck, Emily, you have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen.” Maya drooled. She spanked Emily’s ass, hard, leaving a red handprint on her cheek. Emily gasped and bucked her hips forward, surprised by the sting. Maya smiled, her eyes gleaming with lust as she watched Emily squirm.

“You like that, don’t you, Emily? You like it when I spank your ass?” Maya asked, her voice low and husky.

Emily bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with heat. “Uh huh,” she managed to grunt, anticipating the next slap.

Maya didn’t disappoint. She brought her hand down hard on the other cheek, leaving another red mark. Emily bucked her hips forward again, the sting quickly turning into a dull ache that was making her pussy throb.

“You look so fucking hot like this, Emily. Your ass all red and marked up. Is that what you like? Being spanked like a little slut?” Maya’s voice was a low growl, her hand continuing to caress Emily’s ass, her fingers dipping down to tease her pussy lips.

Emily nodded, her ass pushing back against Maya’s hand, wanting more. “I love it. I’m such a fucking slut for it.”

“Good girl,” Maya murmured, her hand coming down hard on Emily’s ass again, the smack echoing through the room.

“Now, let’s get you ready for this strap-on.”

Maya reached for the lube, her eyes locked on John. She squirted some onto her fingers, spreading it over the head of the dildo. She looked up at John, a wicked grin on her face. “Are you ready for this, John?”

John nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. “Yes,” he gasped.

Maya chuckled, a low, sultry sound, and said, “Okay, Emily – get ready to be fucking fucked.”

Maya positioned herself behind Emily, the dildo already glistening with lube. She rubbed the tip up and down Emily’s pussy lips, coating it with her copious juices. Emily moaned, her body squirming with anticipation. Emily sighed as she pushed her ass back against the dildo.

“Not yet, darling. We’re going to take this slow,” Maya murmured, her voice low and husky.  “We don’t want to rush anything, do we?” she said, looking at John. John shook his head, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“No, we don’t,” he managed to gasp. She reached down, her fingers circling the base of the dildo, her other hand gripping Emily’s ass cheek. She pushed the tip of the dildo against Emily’s pussy, her movements slow and steady.

Emily moaned, her hips pushing back against the dildo, wanting more.

“Patience, darling,” Maya commanded. “I told you, we’re going to take our time.”

She moved the tip of the dildo up towards Emily’s puckered asshole, her movements slow and deliberate. She could feel Emily’s muscles tensing, could feel her body resisting as she tried to force her way in. She knew Emily was ready, could feel her juices coating the dildo, but she wanted to draw this out, wanted to make Emily beg for it.

She pushed the tip against her asshole again, feeling it give slightly under the pressure.

She pushed again, this time feeling the tight sphincter stretch slightly as it slid in. She could feel Emily’s muscles tensing, could hear her moans of pleasure and discomfort as she gently pushed the dildo deeper.

She looked across at John to check his reaction. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he watched the action unfold. His hips were moving in time with his strokes, his eyes glued to the sight of the dildo penetrating his wife’s tight asshole.

Emily moaned, her body trembling with pleasure and pain as Maya continued to push the dildo deeper into her ass. The burn was intense, but there was also an undeniable pleasure that came from the slow stretch and fill of her tight hole.

“Oh fuck, that’s soooo big,” Emily gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked over her shoulder at Maya, her eyes filled with a mix of discomfort and desire. “It burns, but it feels so good.”

Maya smiled, her eyes never leaving Emily’s ass. She knew the feeling well, the burn of initial penetration giving way to a deep, intense pleasure. She leaned down, her lips brushing against Emily’s earlobe. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just breathe through it. That’s it, just let it burn a little more.” She could feel Emily’s body tensing, could feel her muscles working to accommodate the dildo. She could feel Emily’s body relaxing as the initial burn subsided.

“Fuck, she’s so goddamn tight, John,” Maya murmured, her eyes locked onto John. She could see the lust in his eyes, could see the way his cock was throbbing in his hand as he watched.

“She told me you’ve never fucked her in the ass before. Why?” John shook his head, his breath ragged. “I… I don’t know. I just never thought about it. I was too caught up in… in vanilla sex, I guess.”

Maya’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Well, today’s your lucky day, John. Because I’m going to show you how to fuck her ass. And you’re going to watch. And learn.”

John swallowed hard, his cock throbbing at the sight of the dildo slowly disappearing into Emily’s tight asshole. He could see the way her muscles stretched and contracted around the thick silicone cock, her body adjusting to the intrusion.

“Fuck, that’s so goddamn hot,” John groaned, his hand moving faster on his shaft.

Emily let out a long, low moan, her body shaking with the beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. “Oh John, it feels so good. So fucking good.”

John watched, his own body trembling with need and desire, as Maya continued to pump the dildo harder and deeper into Emily. He could see the way her body stretched around it, the way her muscles contracted and relaxed, adjusting to the intrusion. He watched, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as Maya leaned down and began to caress Emily’s back, her fingers tracing patterns on her skin.

“That’s it, baby,” Maya whispered, her voice low and sultry. “That’s a good girl. Are you ready to cum for me? Let’s show John what you’re capable of, shall we?” Maya purred, her voice low and sultry as she reached down to cup Emily’s breasts, squeezing them firmly. Emily let out a soft moan, her nipples hardening under Maya’s touch.

“Yes, I’m ready to cum, Maya. Please,” Emily begged, her body trembling with need.

Maya leaned down, her lips brushing against Emily’s ear. “Say it louder, baby. Let John hear you beg for it.”

Emily took a deep breath, her eyes locked onto John’s. “Please, please Maya, I’m ready. I want to cum for you please,” Emily begged, her voice hoarse with desire.

John groaned as he watched the sight before him. His wife, his beautiful, sexy wife, on her hands and knees, being fucked in the ass by this gorgeous younger woman. He could see Emily’s body begin to tremble more, her moans growing louder and more desperate. He knew she was at that point of no return, and he was desperate to see her lose control.

“Please, Maya,” Emily begged, her voice ragged with desire. “I’m begging you.”

Maya’s grip on the strap-on tightened, her hips picking up speed as she started to slam the dildo in and out of Emily’s ass. That was all it took for Emily to let go. She pushed back against the dildo, her body trembling with the force of her orgasm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Emily screamed, her voice ragged and raw. She could feel her pussy clenching and unclenching as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

John watched, mesmerised by the stream of juices that gushed from his wife’s pussy. She had never done that with him.

Maya pulled out the dildo, leaving Emily panting and trembling. She stood up and walked over to John, her eyes locking onto his. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the lust that was practically radiating off him.

John watched as Maya stood before him, her body glistening with sweat, her hair dishevelled from the fucking. She reached out and grabbed his cock, her hand wrapping around the shaft. She could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted this. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust.

“You want to fuck her now, don’t you, John?” she purred.

“Yes, I fucking do,” he growled.

Emily heard what Maya was planning but felt a tad too spent to take another fucking just yet. Before they could set their plan in motion, Emily turned to Maya and asked, “Sorry Maya, I think I need a little breather. Do you think you could …” She looked at John and then back at Maya, a sly smile on her face.

John frowned, wondering what Emily was up to.

Maya smirked. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” she asked Emily.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Emily replied. “Just as long as you don’t!”

My god, how Emily had changed over the course of just a few days. From a woman who had always been so demure and even a little reserved in bed, she was now bold and adventurous, eager to explore new territories of pleasure.

With that, Maya walked over to the bed and bent down on her knees in front of John. Her eyes met his as she released his cock from the confines of his boxers. It sprang free, already hard and dripping with pre-cum.

“Fuck,” Maya growled, her eyes locked on John’s cock. “Look at this cock, Emily. Look at how fucking hard and ready it is.” She looked up at John, her hand wrapping around the base of his shaft. “You have a beautiful cock, John. I can’t wait to feel it inside me.”

Emily watched, her pussy clenching at the sight of Maya’s lips wrapping around John’s cock. She could see the way Maya’s head bobbed up and down, her mouth taking him in deeper and deeper with each stroke. She could hear the wet sounds of her sucking, the way John’s breath hitched and his hips bucked as Maya’s tongue swirled around his shaft.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” Emily murmured, her fingers reaching down to touch her own clit. She rubbed herself in time with Maya’s sucking, her eyes glued to the sight before her.

Maya looked up at Emily, her eyes gleaming with lust. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to drive Emily wild with desire. She knew exactly when the time was right and pulled her head back, her mouth releasing John’s cock with a loud pop. She looked up at Emily, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

“You want a taste, don’t you, Emily? You want to taste your husband’s cock, all wet and slippery from my mouth?” Maya purred, her voice thick with desire.

Emily caught her breath as she nodded, her body aching with need. She crawled over, her tongue darting out to lick the length of John’s shaft, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of his pre-cum and Maya’s spit. She moaned softly, her eyes locked onto John’s.

However, Maya had different plans for John’s cock. Before Emily got too far into her task, Maya stopped her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’ve got plans for that ‘bad boy’ of yours John. Should I tell you what they are? Or should I just give you a clue?” Maya asked, her voice a low purr as she bent down onto her hands and knees. “I mean, fair’s fair, isn’t?” she said looking Emily in the eyes, searching for her approval.

Emily looked at John with a ‘are you okay with this?’ look. John looked back at her, his eyes filled with lust and desire. Emily nodded to Maya, giving her approval for her to continue.

“What do you say, John? Do you think you can give me what I want? What your wife gave me yesterday.” Maya said looking at John. “You want to know what I want, John,” as she provocatively wiggled her ass in the air. “Are you tempted, sir?” Maya cooed, glancing over her shoulder at John with a sultry smile. “I was such a good little slut for your wife yesterday, you know. Now it’s your turn to take my ass.” Maya provoked, her voice a sultry purr.

She wiggled her ass, inviting John to claim her.

“Emily, why don’t you come over here and guide him? Show him how to take me. Teach him how to fuck my ass, baby,” Maya commanded, her voice husky with desire as she looked over her shoulder at Emily. “Ease me open a bit with those gorgeous fingers of yours. Make sure I’m nice and ready for him.”

Emily swallowed hard, her pussy clenching at the sight of Maya’s beautiful ass on display before her. She crawled over to Maya, her hands reaching out to cup her firm cheeks. She remembered what Maya had done to her earlier. Those stinging slaps across her arse cheeks. It was her turn now to return the favour.

She took a deep breath and brought her hand down sharply across Maya’s right buttock.

The smack echoed through the room, and Maya let out a soft moan. She brought her hand down again, this time on the left cheek, leaving another red handprint. Maya moaned again, her hips pushing back against the sting.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Maya groaned. “I love it when I’m spanked, Emily.”

Emily couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed spanking Maya. The young woman’s flesh was firm and smooth under her palm, and the sound of her hand connecting with Maya’s ass was fucking music to her ears.

She slapped her again, harder, and Maya pushed back against the sting, a low moan escaping her lips. Emily could see Maya’s toes curling into the sheets beneath her, could see the way her back arched with each slap. She could also see the way her pussy was glistening with her juices, her inner lips swollen and dark with desire.

“Okay, now pull my ass cheeks apart and cover my butthole with your spit. We need to get me ready to take John’s cock” Maya moaned, her hips pushing back against Emily’s hand.

Emily sucked a mouthful of spit into her mouth, drizzled it accurately down onto Maya’s tight rosebud and used her fingers to rub it around her puckered hole.

Maya moaned and wriggled her ass, urging Emily on.

“That’s right, baby, make me nice and wet,” Maya groaned. “Now, finger me open, Emily. I want to feel your fingers inside me.”

Emily inserted a finger, feeling the tight grip of Maya’s asshole around it. She added another finger and began to pump slowly, feeling Maya’s muscles stretch and relax around her. She added a third finger, tilting them slightly to stimulate Maya’s walls.

“Oh, fuck yes, that feels so good,” Maya moaned, pushing back against Emily’s fingers. “I love it when you finger my ass, baby. Feels so good.” Maya groaned, her body pushing back against Emily’s fingers. “Do you think I’m ready for John yet.” Maya moaned. “Because fuck, I want him. I want him deep in me.”

Emily could see that Maya was indeed ready. She had been watching John stroke his cock, his movements becoming more urgent as he watched Maya get fingered. His cock was leaking pre-cum, the head glistening with it.

“Yes, Maya,” Emily said, her voice husky with desire. “You’re nice and ready for him. Come over here, John.”

John stepped forward, his cock leading the way. He could see Maya’s ass, all red and marked up from Emily’s spanking, glistening with Emily’s spit. He could see her pussy, swollen and wet, her juices coating her inner thighs.

Maya turned her head slightly, looking back at him with a sultry smile. “Yes, I’m fucking ready for you,” she moaned, pushing her ass back slightly, inviting him in. “Emily, it’s his first time, so why don’t you help him? Guide his cock into me,” Maya purred.

Emily nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. She knew what needed to be done. She reached out and wrapped her hand around John’s cock, her fingers barely meeting around his thick shaft. She could feel the heat of him, the pulse of his heartbeat in the engorged vein running along the underside of his cock. She looked up at him, her eyes locked onto his.

“You ready for this, John?” she asked, her voice husky with desire, as she watched another gob of her spit land accurately on Maya’s winking hole.

“Fuck yes, I’m ready,” he growled.

Emily could feel his heart racing, could see the raw desire in his eyes. She guided his cock to Maya’s entrance, rubbing the thick head against her puckered hole. She looked at him, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “You want to push in gently, or should I just help you shove it in?” Emily teased, her voice low and sultry. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was by this, by the sight of her husband’s cock pressing against another woman’s asshole. She felt as though she was no longer the passive participant in this little threesome; she was the one calling the shots.

John grunted, his breath coming in short gasps as he looked down at Maya’s ass. He was so fucking hard, his cock throbbing painfully in Emily’s guiding hand. He was desperate to bury himself deep inside her. But he was also nervous, this was uncharted territory for him. He took a deep breath and looked down at Maya’s reddened ass, glistening with Emily’s saliva.

“I’m ready, Emily. Let’s do this. I want to see you open her up and then guide my cock into that fucking gorgeous hole,” John growled.

Emily made sure he was positioned just right and then guided him, “Push John. Gently at first until you break through that initial tight ring of muscle, then thrust deeper. Don’t be afraid to be rough. I loved it when Maya was rough with me yesterday.”

John took a deep breath and pushed forward, feeling the resistance of Maya’s tight asshole against his cock. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, feeling a sudden give as his cockhead breached her entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes locking onto Maya’s.

“Fuck, I didn’t think it’d be that tight,” he grunted, his hips pushing forward, inching his cock deeper into Maya’s ass.

Emily moved behind him, her hands on his hips, guiding him, urging him to push harder.

John closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Maya’s hot, tight hole gripping his cock. He took a deep breath and pushed forward, burying his cock deeper into her ass. His hips started to move, finding a rhythm. He looked down at where his cock was disappearing into Maya’s ass, the sight turning him on even more.

He watched as Emily’s hand reached around, her fingers finding Maya’s clit and beginning to rub it in slow circles.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Maya moaned, her hips moving in time with John’s thrusts. “Emily, your fingers feel so good on my clit. I’m so close already.”

John could feel Maya’s muscles contracting around his cock, gripping him tightly as she neared her orgasm. He looked down at Emily, her head bent, her tongue darting out to lick Maya’s pussy lips.

“Fuck, she’s so wet. Her cunt’s dripping,” Emily moaned, her tongue lapping up Maya’s juices. She felt Maya’s body tremble, could feel her hips bucking against John’s cock as he fucked her ass. She knew she was close, the way her breath was coming in short gasps.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for us,” Emily urged, her fingers moving faster on Maya’s clit.

Maya let out a loud moan, her body pushing back against John’s cock. She could feel her orgasm building, could feel it threatening to consume her. She gripped the bedsheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white as she held on for dear life. She could feel Emily’s tongue on her clit, her fingers working in perfect rhythm with John’s thrusts.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close,” Maya gasped, her body trembling with the force of her impending orgasm. “Emily, fuck, your tongue feels so good. I can’t hold back any longer,” Maya cried out, her body trembling with the force of her orgasm. “I’m fucking cumming! I’m fucking cumming!”

John groaned, feeling Maya’s muscles clamp down on his cock as her orgasm ripped through her. He thrust hard into her ass, his own orgasm building deep in his balls. He could feel the pleasure radiating out from his cock, could feel the tingling in his spine as his orgasm exploded from him.

Emily looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with lust and also pride for her husband. She could see his cum oozing out of Maya’s ass, slowly trickling down her cheeks. Her own pussy clenched at the sight, desperate for more.

Maya turned her head to look at Emily, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. “Fuck, that was incredible,” she murmured, her body still trembling with aftershocks of her orgasm. “Who wants to clean me up?” Maya asked with a sexy smile, still on her knees on the bed, her ass high in the air, John’s cum slowly oozing out of her pulsing asshole.

Emily looked at Maya, as she licked her lips, her eyes never leaving Maya’s cum-leaking asshole.

“I think that’s my treat,” Emily purred, her voice a low purr.

She crawled onto the bed, her hands reaching out to spread Maya’s ass cheeks, spreading them wide. She could see John’s cum, thick and white, coating Maya’s asshole and spreading down onto her dripping pussy. She leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow path from Maya’s pussy up to her ass. She moaned as she tasted the tangy flavour of John’s cum mixed with the sweet musk of Maya’s pussy. She licked again, her tongue circling Maya’s asshole, her fingers digging into Maya’s soft flesh.

“Fuck, Emily, that feels so good,” Maya moaned, her hips squirming against Emily’s face.

“You’re cleaning me up so fucking well. I will love tasting myself and John’s cum on your tongue.”

John watched as Emily lapped at Maya’s asshole and pussy. He could see the way her tongue worked, the way her lips pressed against Maya’s skin. He could hear the wet sounds of her licking, the way Maya squirmed and moaned beneath her.

“That’s a good girl, Emily,” John growled, “Clean her up nice and good. Show me how much you love to eat that fucking ass of hers.”

Emily moaned in response, her tongue lapping at Maya’s flesh, her fingers digging into Maya’s soft cheeks. She could feel Maya’s body trembling beneath her, could hear the soft moans that escaped Maya’s lips. She knew she was turning her on, knew she was driving her wild.

“Wait, baby. As much as I would love for you to keep licking me until I pass out, I think we need to get cleaned up. You both have me covered in sweat, spit, and cum,” she laughed softly.

“Good idea, I think we could all use a shower,” John said, beginning to feel the fatigue of their intense session.

Emily pulled away from Maya’s sweet, tangy flesh and licked her lips, savouring the taste of their shared pleasure. “A shower sounds perfect,” she agreed, climbing off the bed.

John and Maya followed suit, their bodies still flushed and glossy with sweat. Maya laughed as she looked down at the bed, the sheets rumpled and stained with their combined fluids. “We certainly made a mess, didn’t we?” she said, shaking her head in amusement.

Emily grinned, her eyes sparkling with lust and mischief.

“I think we did more than make a mess, Maya,” she teased, her hand reaching out to caress Maya’s ass. She could feel the remnants of John’s cum still clinging to her skin. “We made some amazing memories.” Emily said with a soft smile, her fingers still lingering on Maya’s ass.

She glanced over at John, her eyes filled with warmth and love. “Thanks for being so open to this, John, ” she said, realising that this was probably the start of a new era for the two of them.

John led the three of them into the bathroom and started to run the tub. The large Jacuzzi tub was the perfect place to unwind after their intense session. He added some scented bubbles to the water, watching as the foam built up, the scent of jasmine filling the air.

“Perfect,” Emily murmured, letting out a soft sigh as she stepped into the tub, her body sinking down into the warm water.

John followed her in, settling his body behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

He looked over at Maya, who was watching them with a small smile on her face. She looked content, her body relaxed as she stood by the tub, her eyes closed.

“I think I’m going to let you two have this bath alone,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. “That was quite a session and I think I just need to sleep.”

John nodded, a sense of disappointment washing over him.

“Are you sure?” Emily asked, her eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Maya smiled, opening her eyes and looking at Emily. “Plus, I think you two need some time alone to process all of this. You know, talk about it and all that.”

John nodded, his arm still wrapped around Emily.

“You’re right, Maya. We do need to talk. Why don’t you take a quick shower next door and then relax a bit on the bed while Emily and I have our chat in the tub? It’s our final evening here at the hotel, so I could always phone room service and order a meal for the three of us. It’s a perfect evening for us all to sit out and enjoy it on our terrace. It’ll give us a good opportunity to have a good honest chat and you can get to know us properly. What do you say, Maya?” John asked.

Maya’s eyes sparkled as she nodded in agreement. “Sounds perfect to me,” Maya replied. “I’d like that very much. I’ll have a look at the room service menu after I have my shower and let you know my choices, if that’s okay with you two. Then, I’ll need to quickly pop back to my room to get changed.” Maya said, standing up and reaching for a towel. “And if it’s alright for me to stay the night with you, I’ll need to bring my toiletries and stuff,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Emily and John both nodded in agreement.

“Yes, of course we’d love you to stay the night, wouldn’t we John,” Emily said, watching as Maya stepped away from the tub and headed to the shower in the adjoining room.

John nodded a ‘yes’ and couldn’t help but admire Maya’s form as she wrapped a towel around herself and left the room, her hips swaying gently with each step.

Once Maya had left, John turned his attention back to Emily, his arm still wrapped around her waist.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice soft.

Emily let out a long sigh, her body relaxing against his, as she considered her reply.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” she finally said, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Exciting? Emily, that was so much more than exciting. It was…” John trailed off, searching for the right word. “It was… new. Intense. Eye-opening. I never imagined…”

Emily turned to face him, her eyes searching his. “Neither did I. But I’m glad it happened. I’m glad we explored this together. It’s brought us closer, I think.”

John nodded, his arm tightening around her. “It has. And I’m grateful to Maya for that. She’s… special. In more ways than one.” John said, looking deep into Emily’s eyes. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m genuinely fond of her. And I’m grateful for the experiences she’s given us.”

Emily’s smile widened, her eyes reflecting the warmth in her heart. “Me too, John. Me too. She’s opened up a whole new world for us, hasn’t she? A world where we can explore our desires, our fantasies, together.”

John nodded, his fingers tracing patterns on Emily’s bare shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so… alive, Emily. You were wild. Uninhibited. Insatiable.”

The rest of the evening went exactly as planned. A relaxed meal on the terrace with plenty of good wine to help the conversation flow easily, as if they had known each other for years rather than just a few days.

Maya asked about their lives back home, and they told her about their jobs, their hobbies, their friends. They learned that Maya’s mother was Italian and father was English. She was born in Italy but the family moved to England when she was 12. On leaving school, she became a bit of a nomad travelling the world. How she accidently drifting into modelling when she was backpacking through Italy in her early twenties.

“You’ve lived a life that’s so different from ours. So much adventure and freedom,” Emily said. John nodded, his eyes on Maya as she spoke. He could see the fire in her eyes, the passion that burned brightly within her. He respected that, admired it. He looked at Emily, her eyes reflecting her own thoughts and feelings.

“Yes, it’s been incredible,” Maya said, her voice soft with memory. “But there’s also been a lot of struggle. A lot of uncertainty. I envy you two, in a way. Your stability, your comfort. You have something special, something rare. Don’t take it for granted.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly at Maya’s words. She had never thought of her life with John as something to envy, but Maya was right. They had built something solid and steady, something to be cherished.

“We don’t,” Emily said softly. “We appreciate everything we have. And we never take it for granted.”

John reached across the table and took Emily’s hand, his fingers lacing with hers. “We’re lucky to have each other. We know that.”

Maya smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at them. “I’m glad. And I’m so glad I met the two of you. You know, I’m really going to miss you two when you leave tomorrow,” Maya said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Emily looked at her and said, “I’m definitely going to miss you too, Maya. You have taught me so much. And I’m sure John will miss you as well – won’t you John?” Emily added with a twinkle in her eye.

John nodded his agreement, “Oh, definitely. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again someday. “

Maya smiled at the thought. “Yes, that would be nice. But if we don’t, please, please don’t forget me.”

After that, the three of them fell into a comfortable silence and eventually, with tired eyes, John suggested, “Time for bed, don’t you think?” The two women nodded in agreement. John led the way into the bedroom. The two women followed him and all three quickly undressed and collapsed onto the bed where they cuddled themselves to sleep.

The next morning, Maya had to get up at 6am to get herself ready for work. They said their goodbyes and promised to keep in touch.

Emily and John finished their packing and were ready for the taxi when it arrived at 9am. For the whole of the journey to the airport they held each other’s hands, consumed by their thoughts. Maya had introduced them to a whole new world of experiences, a world that was completely alien to both of them.

They both realised that this was going to be the first day of the rest of their new, very different lives.

The café buzzed with the usual mid-afternoon hum—the clinking of spoons against ceramic mugs, the soft murmur of conversations, and the occasional laugh that floated above the din. Leslie sat by the window, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of chamomile tea. At 27, she had the air of someone who had lived more than her years suggested. Her divorce from her ex-husband, now serving time for embezzlement, had left her with a quiet resilience, but also a restless energy that simmered just beneath the surface. She had always been drawn to Marie, her former mother-in-law, though she’d never acted on it. The age gap—Marie was in her late forties—and the familial connection had kept her desires locked away. Until now.

Marie walked into the café, her presence immediately noticeable. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, and her tailored blazer hugged her curves in a way that made Leslie’s heart skip a beat. She hadn’t seen Marie since the divorce, and the sight of her stirred something primal within Leslie. Marie scanned the room, her eyes landing on Leslie with a mix of surprise and curiosity. Leslie waved, her smile cautious but genuine. Marie approached, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and slid into the booth across from Leslie.

“Leslie,” Marie said, her voice smooth and low. “What a surprise. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Leslie replied, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “It’s been a while. How are you holding up?”

Marie sighed, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. It’s been… a lot.”

Leslie nodded, her gaze softening. “I know. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Marie’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. Leslie’s heart raced as she realized this might be her only chance. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Marie, I’ve always admired you. Even when I was married to your son, I couldn’t help but notice how… captivating you are.”

Marie’s eyebrows arched, a mix of surprise and something else—something that looked like interest—flashing across her face. “Leslie, that’s… unexpected.”

“I know,” Leslie said, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. “But I’ve never been one to ignore what I want. And I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

Marie’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. She leaned back, her eyes searching Leslie’s face as if looking for a hint of hesitation. Finding none, she leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure about this? It’s… complicated.”

“I’ve never been more sure,” Leslie replied, her confidence growing with each word. “And I think we both know life’s too short to ignore what we want.”

Marie hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Alright. But we need to be careful.”

Leslie smiled, a thrill coursing through her. “I promise.”

They left the café together, their steps synchronized as if they’d been walking side by side for years. The drive to Marie’s house was quiet, the tension between them thick and electric. Leslie’s mind raced with anticipation, her body humming with desire. She had fantasized about this moment for years, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would actually happen.

Marie’s house was as elegant as she was—a modern two-story with clean lines and a garden that bloomed even in the late autumn chill. Inside, the air was warm and smelled faintly of lavender. Marie led Leslie to the living room, her movements graceful, deliberate. Leslie’s heart pounded as she followed, her senses alive to every detail—the soft carpet beneath her feet, the way the light caught the edges of Marie’s hair, the faint scent of her perfume.

They sat on the couch, their bodies close but not touching. Marie’s eyes searched Leslie’s, her expression unreadable. Leslie reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she brushed a strand of hair from Marie’s face. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she murmured.

Marie’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into Leslie’s touch. “You’re… bold,” she whispered.

“Only with you,” Leslie replied, her voice thick with desire.

Marie opened her eyes, her gaze intense. “Then show me.”

Leslie didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, her lips brushing Marie’s softly at first, then with growing urgency. Marie responded immediately, her arms wrapping around Leslie’s waist as she deepened the kiss. Leslie moaned softly, her hands tangling in Marie’s hair, pulling her closer. The kiss was everything Leslie had imagined—passionate, hungry, and tinged with the sweetness of forbidden fruit.

They broke apart, both breathless, their eyes locked in a silent communion. Marie’s lips curved into a smile, her expression both tender and wicked. “Take me to the bedroom,” she murmured.

Leslie stood, her hand reaching for Marie’s. Their fingers intertwined, and Leslie felt a surge of triumph. This was real. This was happening. She led Marie upstairs, their steps slow and deliberate, the tension between them building with every step.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to block out the afternoon sun. Marie turned to face Leslie, her eyes gleaming with desire. Leslie’s heart raced as she took in the sight of her—her blazer discarded, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. She was breathtaking, and Leslie’s mouth went dry at the thought of what was to come.

“You’re beautiful,” Leslie whispered, her hands reaching out to trace the lines of Marie’s face.

Marie smiled, her lips brushing Leslie’s ear as she whispered, “Show me how much you want me.”

Leslie didn’t need to be told twice. She pressed Marie back against the bed, her kisses trailing down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. Marie gasped, her hands gripping Leslie’s shoulders as she arched into the touch. Leslie’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Marie’s blouse, eager to reveal the skin beneath. When it finally fell open, Leslie paused, drinking in the sight of Marie’s lace-covered breasts.

“You’re perfect,” Leslie murmured, her lips brushing the swell of Marie’s breast before she captured the nipple between her teeth.

Marie moaned, her head falling back against the pillow as she tangled her fingers in Leslie’s hair. “God, Leslie… don’t stop.”

Leslie smiled against Marie’s skin, her hands roaming lower, unbuttoning her jeans with practiced ease. Marie lifted her hips, allowing Leslie to slide the denim down her legs, revealing lace panties that clung to her curves. Leslie’s breath caught at the sight, her desire spiraling out of control.

She knelt between Marie’s legs, her hands tracing the outline of her thighs, her hips. Marie’s breath came in short gasps, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Leslie hooked her fingers into the waistband of Marie’s panties, sliding them down slowly, reveling in the way Marie’s hips bucked in anticipation.

When Marie was finally bare before her, Leslie paused, her eyes drinking in the sight. Marie’s skin was flushed, her lips parted, her body trembling with need. Leslie’s mouth watered, her desire overwhelming. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over Marie’s core as she whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

Marie moaned, her hands gripping the sheets as she spread her legs wider. “Please, Leslie… I need you.”

Leslie didn’t hesitate. She pressed her lips to Marie’s folds, her tongue flicking out to taste her. Marie cried out, her body arching off the bed as she tangled her fingers in Leslie’s hair. Leslie hummed her approval, her tongue delving deeper, savoring the taste of Marie’s arousal.

Marie’s hands tightened in Leslie’s hair, her hips rocking against Leslie’s mouth as she sought more friction. “Oh God… yes… right there,” she panted.

Leslie smiled against Marie’s skin, her fingers slipping between Marie’s legs to part her folds, granting her better access. She sucked gently on Marie’s clit, her tongue swirling in time with Marie’s moans. Marie’s breath came in short gasps, her body trembling on the edge of release.

“Leslie… I’m close…” Marie whispered, her voice thick with need.

Leslie redoubled her efforts, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to push Marie over the edge. Marie cried out, her body convulsing as she came, her release coating Leslie’s tongue. Leslie drank her in, her heart swelling with satisfaction at the sight of Marie’s pleasure.

When Marie’s tremors subsided, Leslie leaned up, her lips brushing Marie’s thigh as she smiled. “Your turn,” Marie murmured, her eyes gleaming with desire.

Leslie’s heart raced as Marie sat up, her hands reaching for Leslie’s shirt. She pulled it over Leslie’s head, her eyes raking over Leslie’s body with hunger. Leslie’s skin flushed under Marie’s gaze, her breath coming in short gasps as Marie’s hands roamed over her.

Marie’s lips trailed down Leslie’s neck, her chest, her stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Leslie moaned, her hands tangling in Marie’s hair as she arched into the touch. When Marie’s lips reached the waistband of Leslie’s jeans, Leslie lifted her hips, allowing Marie to slide them down her legs.

Marie paused, her eyes locking with Leslie’s as she traced the lace of Leslie’s panties with her fingertips. Leslie’s breath caught, her anticipation building as Marie’s fingers hooked into the waistband, sliding the fabric down her legs.

Leslie was bared before Marie, her skin flushed, her body trembling with need. Marie’s eyes darkened with desire as she leaned forward, her lips brushing Leslie’s core. Leslie gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as Marie’s tongue flicked out to taste her.

“Marie…” Leslie whispered, her voice hoarse with desire.

Marie smiled against Leslie’s skin, her tongue delving deeper, her fingers slipping inside Leslie’s wetness. Leslie cried out, her body arching off the bed as Marie’s tongue and fingers worked in tandem, pushing her closer to the edge.

“Oh God… Marie… I’m close…” Leslie panted, her body trembling on the brink of release.

Marie redoubled her efforts, her tongue and fingers driving Leslie wild with pleasure. Leslie’s breath came in short gasps, her body convulsing as she came, her release coating Marie’s tongue. Marie drank her in, her eyes locked on Leslie’s face as she rode out her orgasm.

When Leslie’s tremors subsided, Marie leaned up, her lips brushing Leslie’s thigh as she smiled. “You’re incredible,” she murmured.

Leslie smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “So are you.”

They lay tangled together, their bodies still glowing with the aftermath of their passion. Leslie’s mind raced with the implications of what they’d just done, but she pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Marie’s body against hers.

Marie’s fingers traced patterns on Leslie’s arm, her expression thoughtful. “This… it’s complicated, isn’t it?”

Leslie nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of their situation. “It is. But… I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

Marie smiled, her lips brushing Leslie’s forehead. “Neither do I.”

Leslie’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the silence. She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw her ex’s name. Marie followed her gaze, her eyebrows arching in question.

Leslie smirked, an idea forming in her mind. “Wanna have some fun?”

Marie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Always.”

Leslie answered the call, putting it on speaker. Her ex’s voice came through, tight with anger. “Leslie, what the hell do you want?”

Leslie grinned, propping herself up on her elbow. “Hi, ex-hubby. Just thought you’d like to know… I’m with Marie.”

There was a pause, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “What? You’re with my mom?”

Leslie laughed, the sound light and mocking. “Yep. And you know what? She’s amazing. Way better than you ever were.”

Marie smirked, her hand trailing down Leslie’s side, her touch electric. Leslie shivered, her grin widening as her ex sputtered in outrage.

“You’re sick, Leslie. This is—”

“Oh, shut up,” Leslie cut in, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re in prison, remember? Your opinion doesn’t matter anymore. And you know what? Marie and I are going to make this work. I’m going to be your new stepmom. How’s that for a twist?”

There was a long silence, followed by a muttered curse. Leslie laughed, ending the call with a flick of her finger. She turned to Marie, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “That was fun.”

Marie smiled, her lips brushing Leslie’s. “You’re incorrigible.”

Leslie grinned, her arms wrapping around Marie’s waist. “And you love it.”

Marie laughed, her body relaxing into Leslie’s embrace. “I do.”

I parked my car, checked that I had what I needed, locked the doors and walked across the sandy parking lot toward the ferry.

Joining a short queue of people waiting for the crossing, I nodded and exchanged smiles with a few familiar faces.

The crossing, which would take barely ten minutes, would take us to our beach hut community on the long spit of land opposite.

A slight breeze was picking up, and along with the slowly rising temperature, it was dissipating the slight sea mist that shrouded the spit.

The ferry, a twin-hulled and purpose-built craft with a maximum capacity of thirty passengers, nudged in against the harbour wall, and a crewman hopped ashore to tie it off.

Gangplank in place, we all shuffled forward, lugging backpacks, coolers and, in some cases, towing festival trolleys.

This was the second crossing of the day, and the boat was quite full. Everyone moved up to make space.

ooOOoo

Fifteen minutes later, I had hitched my largish backpack on and was towing the wheeled Coleman along the beach path toward my aunt’s beach hut.

I’d shed my sneakers and tucked my sports socks into my shorts pocket. The feeling of the sand passing between my toes was instantly relaxing and even sensuous.

The sounds of the sea, coupled with the salty air, were like a magic balm on a stressed soul.

Aunt Emma’s hut was at the end of a crooked row, one of the original cottages. However, it had been extensively renovated the previous year.

Now, when I say renovated, I should emphasise that, like all the properties on the spit, there was no running water, no electricity, and no indoor plumbing.

As part of the renovation, solar panels had been fitted, but water still had to be collected from standpipes. Bottled gas was stocked at the dockside store, and several communal blocks were available for showering and toilet needs.

You may be thinking that it all sounds a little rough and ready, but believe me, these huts change hands for eye-watering sums. They are often passed down through generations, and any that come on the market are snapped up in days.

So, enough natter, I reached Aunt Em’s hut, unlocked it, and set about moving in for the week.

My first task was to unlatch the shutters and let the sun in. Then, I swept off the decking and laid down the door mats. It’s much easier to keep the sand out than try and remove it afterward.

I checked the batteries for charge and grabbed the water barrel. You’ve probably seen them in camping stores, with a nine-gallon capacity and a handle that lets you roll it along.

Anyway, the nearest standpipe is just along the boardwalk, where the footpath climbs up the cliffs. It takes a while to fill, and I was sitting on a wooden rail watching people going about their business when I saw her.

Tall and slim with a blonde ponytail tucked through the back of her ball cap, green singlet top and snug Daisy Dukes. She was a real eye-catcher.

She became even more eye-catching when she paused to take off her sneakers. She bent to tug off her white ankle socks, and those snug shorts rode right up. I got a fantastic eyeful of firm tanned ass cheeks.

As she stood, her eyes caught mine, and I could feel the blood rising to my face. I blush really easily.

“Hi there,” she called out and started to walk towards me.

“Hey, nice day,” I offered by way of a cool return.

“Is it okay to fill my water bottle here,” she unclipped a large pink Yeti flask from her day pack.

Glancing down at my barrel, I turned the water off before capping it and sliding it to one side.

“All yours,” I offered. She had piercing blue eyes and fabulous high cheekbones.

She could have the water. She could have me, all of me. My pussy was throbbing just looking at her.

Almost as if she could read my thoughts, she giggled, and her breasts shimmied inside her top.

“I’m Elena; I’m going to walk the cliff path; I’ve been told the views are amazing.”

“Nora, and yes, it’s beautiful here. We have a hut, the green one over there,” I pointed toward my home for the week.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Guess I’d better get on, or I’ll miss the last ferry back,” and with that, she headed up the cliff path.

By the time I’d returned to the hut, the sun was fully up, and the mercury was climbing. It was going to be a beauty of a day.

I unfolded a lounger and headed inside to slip into a bikini.

Stripping naked, I padded across the varnished floor, cool against my warm feet, and pulled my favourite tan number from the pack. Bare Minimale by name and minimal by look, it wasn’t quite Wicked Weasel, but it was well on its way.

As ever, the cupboard above the sink held a delightful selection of quality sun lotions, and I started to coat myself in coconut-scented oil.

Hopefully, standing in the shadowy depths of the hut would shield me from prying eyes, but it would only take a moment; it was not worth dropping the window blind.

Or at least that was the plan, but I couldn’t get the image of Elena out of my mind. Her long-muscled legs and the way her breasts bobbed inside her top, those piercing blue eyes.

The oil felt so good on my skin, slick against my breasts. I just had to squeeze and tease my nipples. Stretching them until waves of pleasure shot down to my pussy.

Slowly, my hands moved south over my taut abs until my fingers brushed over my tightly trimmed mound. A little more pressure and they encountered warm moisture.

My thighs trembled, my stomach tumbled, and I groaned aloud in pleasure.

In my defence, it had been a while since I’d felt such pleasure.

First one, then two fingers slipped between my parted lips and deep inside my aching pussy.

Oh fuck, was I hot and slick. Slowly, I slid down the wall until I sat, legs splayed.

I kept replaying Elena bending over with those firm tanned ass cheeks. I imagined pulling those Dukes down her long, firm legs, burying my face between her thighs.

Without conscious thought, my fingers started to piston into my pussy. I could feel my juices flowing down my thighs.

Just as I imagined kissing her full lips, my pussy gripped my fingers, and a huge cum shook my body.

For a while, I just sat there basking in the afterglow of a beautiful orgasm, letting my body cool, my breathing calm.

Stretching out, I could snag my discarded panties, a rather plain, pale blue cotton pair.

Just what I needed to clean my sticky pussy and mop up the puddle between my thighs.

ooOOoo

I spent the afternoon basking in the sun, relaxed after my self-pleasure. I worked my way through a good few chapters of the latest Jonathon Kellerman novel and was contemplating firing up the BBQ when I saw her.

She was moving slowly along the boardwalk from the cliff path. I realised that she was moving stiffly, not that easy athletic gait from earlier, and then it struck me that it was past five o’clock. The last ferry of the day had departed.

Refastening the ties on my top, I hastened off the deck to meet her.

“Hi, Elena, are you okay?” It was obvious she wasn’t, but hey, you’ve got to start somewhere.

“Yeah, I just slipped a little.” She was making light of it, but I could see she was pale and favouring her left ankle.

“I’ll take that,” I said as I reached for her day pack and slipped a hand under her elbow to help keep the weight off her injured leg.

Slowly, we made our way back to my deck, and I settled her on the lounger.

“So, what happened?”

“I was at the far end of the walk when I caught my foot in a rabbit hole and twisted my ankle a little.”

“Right, well, let’s take a look at it, shall we.”

“It’s fine, I need to get to the pier for the ferry.” she moved to stand, wincing at the movement,

“Nah, the last ferry has long gone, so cool your jets while I check you out; your ankle, I mean, check your ankle,” I stammered like a fool.

I gently unlaced her sneaker and slipped off her sock.

She had long, elegant feet, her toes painted a bright white. Her ankle, however, was an angry red and clearly swollen.

Slipping off her other shoe and sock, I moved the two legs together. The right ankle was shapely and elegant; it just highlighted the swelling around her left foot.

“Well, you can walk on it, and it bends, all be it painfully, so it’s just a sprain, nothing broken,” I observed, “Any other sore spots?”

It was Elena’s turn to blush, “Just my ass, I think I scraped it on a rock.”

My pussy quivered at the thought of her ass. “Did you hit your head at all, any faintness?” I queried.

She shook her head.

“No, good, then how about a cold beer?”

Elena’s face lightened at the thought, “Oh, that would be wonderful.”

I quickly returned with two cold, long necks and the first aid kit.

We sat for a while, ice pack on her ankle, sipping our beers as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

Finishing my beer, I turned to face my unexpected guest, “Obviously, you’ll stay here tonight. The next ferry isn’t until ten in the morning. I’ll light the BBQ and then look at your wounds.”

The BBQ was crackling away as the coals heated; the heat was a pleasant addition to the cooling sea air.

I used a cool washcloth to wipe Elena’s feet. Gently sponging all the sand from between her toes before wrapping her damaged ankle in an ACE bandage.

“Now, let’s check the rear, shall we?” I tried to keep the excitement out of both my face and voice as she slowly stood.

Elena stiffly stood and turned to face the beach.

I crouched down behind her, eyes level with cute sexy ass.

All I could see were a few light scratches on the back of her thigh. But up close, I could smell her perfume. Fresh with a hint of citrus.

“Doesn’t look to bad to me,” I offered.

“Thanks for looking,” Elsa moved to face me, and those sexy shorts rode up again.

“Whoa, there’s the damage under your shorts. Really nasty scrape.”

“It certainly stings a lot.”

“I’ll need to clean it, but you will need to drop your shorts.” Even I could hear the tremble in my voice.

“Okay, but maybe I should mention I don’t wear panties.”

At this point, I felt a distinct drip into my bikini bottoms.

“Let’s just step inside then.” Oh my God, my mouth was dry.

We moved inside, and I dropped the blind before flicking on the wall lamps.

I busied myself, getting a bowl of clean water and some antiseptic whilst Elena removed her shorts.

When I turned from the kitchen area, she was standing totally and unashamedly naked from the waist down.

She was completely smooth apart from a little curl of blonde locks above her sex.

I dragged my eyes away from her treasure and tried to look and sound nonchalant.

“Maybe kneel on the couch here,” I pointed toward the pull-out.

Elena moved to the couch, kneeling so that her perfect ass faced the room.

I crouched behind her, warm water at the ready. As I applied the first cotton ball, she hissed and straightened her back.

I was treated to a perfect view of her small pink pucker, just lightly pigmented. Her pussy lips were swollen and glistened in the soft light.

Ever so gently, I washed the gritty sand from her scrapes. She remained silent, but the muscles of her pert ass quivered as the antiseptic stung.

Rummaging through the first aid kit, I found a dressing and applied it.

Unconsciously, I stroked my hand across her lower back and butt cheek, “There, all done.”

“Thanks, Nora, I owe you a biggie.”

There was a sparkle in her eye that made me wonder just how she would repay me.

“Your shorts are gritty and a little blood-stained. I’ll lend you a pair if you like,”

“Did I see some showers further down? I’m all sweaty and stale.”

“Yes, I’ll come too, I need to freshen up.”

It was at this point I noticed a large, dark, wet spot on my tan bottoms, and from the direction of her eyes, so had Elena.

Blood pumped to my face and my clit in equal quantities; oh fuck I was so horny.

I grabbed us some shorts, checked on the BBQ, and then we made our way to the shower block.

All four showers were free when we arrived. Without hesitation, Elena slipped off her borrowed shorts and tugged her vest over her head. Just as I’d thought, her breasts were full and firm with large pink nubs, absolutely mouth-watering.

“I’ll try to keep the bandage dry,” she said, leaning in to turn the water on.

“Allow me.” I promptly knelt before her and was rewarded with a wonderful close up of her pretty cunt.

Producing a plastic carrier bag from my shorts, I slipped it over her foot and knotted the handles around her leg.

“There, all good.”

I was rewarded with a big grin of appreciation and then joy of joys she leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek, “Thanks again, I keep owing you.” Her breath was warm and minty.

I moved to turn the opposite shower on and strip off. I thought she would step under the hot water, but no, she stood her ground, her eyes caressing my body.

My top came off, my girls, offering a firm and fair competition for Elena’s full orbs. Her eyes pointedly moved downwards, focusing on my damp, spotted bottoms.

Deep breath, I pulled the tie and stepped out of them. A long thick strand of cum stretched from my swollen lips to the tan cloth.

“Mmmmmm,” Elena let out a long gentle sigh.

I went with it.

I turned square on and spread my feet a little.

My cunt was fully exposed, and I felt good about it, really good.

Usually, I’m quite reserved and modest. But there was something about Elena that made me feel alive.

Suddenly, she stepped forward, took my hand and pulled me under the warm spray with her.

I grabbed the body wash from the bench and happily shared the hot water.

We took giggly turns ducking under the water. Even with both of us having shoulder-length hair, it took no time for us to both lather up, a wonderful aroma of sandalwood filling the room.

“May I?” Elena’s bright blue eyes lasered into mine.

I found I couldn’t speak; I was reduced to a dumb smile and nodding.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Elena grinned as she poured a generous dollop of gel.

Her hands massaged my neck before dropping down my shoulders and along my arms.

Her fingers entwined with mine, a small but very intimate gesture.

It was so natural to lean back into her body, her breasts firm against my back. It was heavenly.

Her hands moved to cup my breasts; she took their weight and caressed them, her fingers gripping and stretching my nipples.

I moaned aloud as bolts of lightning shot down to my pussy. Even in that hot, steamy shower, I could feel my nectar drip.

I rubbed my ass against her mound; she worked herself against my ass. Firm, smooth flesh, lots of sweet, scented suds.

Her fingers found my folds and deftly parted the way.

Soon, I was leaning forward against the tile, her fingers working sweet magic as I groaned and panted in pleasure.

The sensible half of my brain kept saying, “Stop, someone could walk in; this is a public facility.”

But the other half, the half connected to the throbbing wet mass of nerves between my thighs, kept shouting, “Take it, take it all. Let her fuck you.”  And so, I did.

I came so hard my legs gave out. Elena took my weight and lowered me to the tile floor.

Those bright blue eyes were all I could see as she looked down at me.

I moved to kneel before her; my hands cupped her thighs.

My turn to hold her gaze, I made a show of flicking my tongue out.

“Nora, I’m so fucking horny, but I really need to get off this ankle.”

Standing, I quickly soaped her down. Just as I rinsed her off, the water ran cold.

“Fuck, the gods are telling us something.”

“Yeah, get dressed and go eat,” she laughed.

ooOOoo

Back at my hut, the BBQ was ready, and I put the skewers that I’d bought with me on the grill, added some veggies to cook through, and popped a couple more beers.

Elena was sitting on the couch, leg up, resting, still totally naked. That said, she only had my borrowed shorts and a sweaty vest top.

“I’ll rinse out your top and shorts. They’ll dry in no time once the sun comes back up.”

“I’m okay like this,” she giggled and winked.

“You do look good.”

“Honestly, at home, I rarely dress indoors.”

Oh god, this girl could get me wet so easily.

I moved to the couch, leaned forward, and kissed her slowly and deeply on the lips.

Her mouth opened in response, and my tongue slipped inside.

I stayed there as time froze. Just enjoying the taste of her as our tongues duelled.

I found that I really enjoyed running my fingers through her long, silky hair.

Finally breaking free, I straightened, released my grip on her nipple, and got my mind back on track.

“We normally eat outside, so I’ll find us something to cover up with.”

Then I remembered Aunt Emma saying she’d added some dryrobes to the kit cupboard.

They were perfect, long with a toweling lining, they would preserve our modesty and keep the evening chill at bay.

It was the perfect end to a perfect day. A day that had started off normal and delivered so many surprises.

I pulled a couple of chairs together, added a storage trunk as a footrest, and popped some more beers.

We sat and ate, watching the last embers of the sun disappear over the horizon.

Apart from an almost animal attraction to each other, we chatted and found that we had a lot in common, both likes and dislikes. We shared similar world views; we both enjoyed the sea, travelling, and trying different foods, and we were both single.

More importantly, although we’d both had boyfriends, we’d both developed an appreciation for women and pictured one in our futures.

“Nora, I can’t thank you enough for all your help today. I really fucked up, and you’ve ridden to my rescue, helped me out, and been so kind and wonderful.”

Elena’s big blue eyes were moist with emotion; they looked so vulnerable yet inviting in the warm yellow lantern light.

If you’ve never worn a dryrobe, I have to tell you that they open at the sides. Neither of us had fastened ours.

My hand slid so easily into Elena’s robe. Her skin was soft and warm.

It came to rest on her firm flat stomach.

I was rewarded with a warm smile.

Now I moved to that wonderful spot where thigh meets mound.

Her smile grew. She leaned her head back and groaned gently.

My fingers reached that little tuft of blonde curls.

Another louder groan, her eyes flickered shut.

Oh, so gently, I stroked and stretched that little patch of skin, feeling the soft curls beneath my fingers.

Wordlessly, Elena moved her feet apart where they rested on the trunk.

I needed no further invitation.

Turning in my chair to reach better, I moved my fingers across her pussy.

Just lightly dancing across her outer lips, feeling her heat build, hearing her excitement grow as she murmured and groaned in pleasure.

Slowly, she bucked her hips; she wanted more.

My fingers slipped deeper into the heat of her sex.

She was wet, her honey flowed to meet my fingers, I stirred her pot, and she trembled and whimpered beneath me.

I traced her lips up until I reached her little nub.

“OHH,” she bucked in response. Her moans carried across the now deserted beach.

Just my fingertip wriggled against her clit. It felt full and hard.

“Yessss, Nora, please.” Her voice was a dry whisper.

It only took a few moments before she gripped my wrist and bucked against my hand.

I’d planned on a long slow cum. This had been quick and aggressive. Her needs triumphing over my desires.

Slowly, her breathing calmed, and her body relaxed.

“Can I interest you in an early night” I whispered into her ear as my tongue caressed her lobe.

ooOOoo

Back inside, I had barely closed the door when her arms wrapped around me. Elena crushed me against the door, her tongue forcing its way between my lips.

We stood there, hugging and kissing like horny teenagers for ages.

I wanted to run my hands all over her body, but those beach wraps were blocking everything.

Finally, I broke free and tugged the robe over my head.

With a manic grin, Elena followed suit. We stood before each other, our bodies alive with desire.

“I need to taste you.”

“I want to eat you now.”

We both spoke at once, our desires the same.

With a grin, I pointed to the ladder fixed in the corner. It led to the ceiling space that had been converted into a sleeping area.

We literally skipped to it. I let Elena go first. When her ass cheeks were level with my face, I grabbed her thighs and buried my face between those firm round cheeks.

My tongue lapped around her pucker. She trembled in my hands.

Mindful of her ankle, I cut my exploration short. A swift slap to her ass cheek encouraged her up the ladder, and I scrambled to join her.

The sleeping area was a reinforced ceiling with a large mattress laid out. A semi-circular window gave a view of the sea. The roof was low; you had to crawl about.

A soft, warm light emanated from a minimalist LED fitting; the partially open window allowed the sound of the sea to caress us.

We kneeled facing each other, both super horny, both knowing how much we wanted to give and receive.

Leaning forward, I kissed her deeply, my body humming with desire.

Her lips locked with mine; my hand reached between her parted thighs. My fingers slipped back between her hot, wet lips.

I felt her hand brush my thigh, her fingers heading for my molten core.

I squealed loudly as her finger pierced me, immediately hitting my magic spot.

Hooking my finger, I found that rough spot and rubbed back.

We both kneeled, rocking and squealing, letting our orgasms grow until we spasmed in each other arms. She soaked my hand with her cum.

I made a show of licking my fingers clean.

Elena fed me my own cum before cleaning her own hand.

Even with the open window, the air was rich with the smells of sex.

“This has been the best day ever,” she sighed.

“Yes, it has, and it’s not over yet,” with that, I pushed her back onto the mattress and spun to straddle her.

“Oh, fuck yes!” her cries of delight were muffled by my wet cunt lowering on to her face.

As her tongue hit home, my face parted her thighs, and I kissed that pale pink pucker that had been in my thoughts since late afternoon.

Its earthiness aroused a deep-seated need within me. I lapped and probed. Every new intrusion triggered a bucking of her hips.

Swapping a finger for my tongue, I caressed her inner ring. Elena was shaking with desire.

My mouth moved to her pussy, so hot, so wet.

Long, flat, tongued licks filled my mouth with her honey.

I struggled to carry on as she sucked hard on my labia and triggered a huge release of cum that I could feel filling her mouth.

I couldn’t last much longer; I sucked hard on her clit and pistoned my finger into her ass.

Her orgasm was huge; she screamed and bucked so hard she almost threw me off. Her hips hit my face, my eyes watered. She quaked beneath me, her cum coated my face and neck.

I swallowed all I could take.

Eventually, we rolled apart. I fetched bottles of chilled water and some dampened washcloths to clean up with.

Refreshed and slightly less coated in girl honey, we kissed gently, pulled the covers up and drifted off to sleep.

I awoke the next morning to a shaft of brilliant sunlight and the sounds of the tide, but better yet, the deep rhythmic breathing of Elena.

Her long blonde locks were fanned out across the pillow, glowing in the sunlight.

While she slept, I took stock of the situation. My nipples were a little sore, and I had a small bite mark on my left breast. My thighs ached and so did my pussy. Despite out attempts at cleaning up, my skin was tight with dried honey.

I felt myself grin. I felt absolutely fucking wonderful.

I slipped from the bed to return with two large, strong coffees.

Elena was awake and sitting up, her tits firm and perky.

“Coffee?” I offered her a mug, which she eagerly accepted.

“Thanks”

“I was wondering, I’m here for a week, and if you don’t have any plans, maybe you’d like to stay a while?” My heart was pounding as I asked.

“I’d love to, but how long did you have in mind? I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Oh, I was thinking of like forever, maybe.”

 ooOOOoo

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