Back in the Saddle

Sorry, I got out of the habit of posting over May, which was crazy busy, and then I didn't have a lot of post about, and then I did, but I was out of the habit, and anyway, here we are again.

At my work, we occasionally have what we refer to as "Indian Dance Bat-Mitzvas" for lack of a better term (I believe one of the terms is Arangetram, but that doesn't seem to be universal). They're dance concerts which are sort of coming-of-age ceremonies for the dancer (always a young woman) in question. And... well, they're not our favorite things in the world because they're a lot of effort and tend to involve live musicians and so forth.

But we host them because my boss hasn't yet convinced the higher-ups that they're not worth the effort. So a while back (yes, I know) we hosted one for a very nice young lady who didn't have live musicians and who was fairly laid back about the whole thing, so I was already kindly disposed toward her.

Typically relatives of the dancer handle all the prep and interfacing with technical elements and so forth. Most of the time it's brothers, although I think we did once have a cousin. They can be just as harried as we are because sometimes their sister is being a total Indian-Dance-Bat-Mitzva-zilla, or because the musicians are terrible to work with (they usually are). I have a certain degree of sympathy for them because often they're thrust into the situation with little or no decisions made on their part.

Well, this time the tech was being handled by a charming older sister of the dancer in question. And because there was no live music, I was running things by myself. Perhaps you already see where this is going, but I'm not going to tease.

The sister, let's call her Daya, was over this shit from the get go. She favorably impressed me by swearing a blue streak, then blushing and trying to make sure I wouldn't tell her father she knew those words. Apparently Daya has no time for dancing. She's in college, she's interested in STEM, she doesn't care about art, but as the eldest it fell to her to do this job. I liked her immediately.

I liked her even more when I got to know her over the course of the evening's rehearsal. I want to make it plain that I was not coming on to her at all. She's young enough to be my daughter, for one thing, and for another she didn't seem to be interested in me at all that way. But she was cute as hell. Slim, small bust, still nice curves, long black hair, fairly dark complexion. And did I mention short? Short enough that if we had stood face to face she would have gotten a facefull of boob.

At a certain point we were on break and she sheepishly asked me if there was someplace where she could smoke without being seen by her relatives. Oh, sweet summer child. Of course mama knows where the best spots are. I don't smoke anymore, but I know all the spots.

And it seemed perfectly natural for me to join her, since I had to show her the way. So we sat, she smoked, and we chatted about this and that.

And then I noticed that, far from being uninterested in me, she was ogling me. Like, she didn't have any experience hiding it at all. She was in fourteen-year-old-boy-seeing-his-first-boob territory. She couldn't stop staring at my chest.

And frankly, I was prepared to let her look and say nothing, because I've been the recipient of patience on the part of my ogle-ee often enough and I like to pay it forward.

But then she said, "Are you doing anything after? The family is having dinner in the lobby and I'm sure you could come and have some too, if you like Indian."

Now here's where I differ from my boss: I love Indian, and frequently these events are catered and they offer me food and that makes up for a lot of the hassle. Hell, I like the attention I get as a gringo liking Indian food. They start by offering me the least bizarre things but when I graduate to the hard stuff, they're impressed and feed me more. I got the same thing as a child in sushi places: the chef would frequently slip me bits and bobs of stuff because I was willing to eat it. So hell yeah, I was totally on board with having free Indian food.

My boss, on the other hand, doesn't particularly like Indian, plus food is a mess to clean up, so that gets added to the negative side of the balance sheet. Ah well. More for me, at least until they decide to stop allowing these events.

She stubbed out her cigarette prettily (I love how some women make smoking sexy, and Daya was one of them) and seemed enthusiastic when I was enthusiastic about Indian food. We went back and finished the rehearsal and chatted.

Then dinner with the family. I was all set to take mine to go, but Daya insisted on introducing me around and sitting me down and tempting me with all sorts of goodies until it felt rude to refuse. So I had delicious Indian food. Vegetarian, which I know would put off some people, but not me. Spicy as shit, but I sweated and loved it. This is not a food blog, so I'll draw the curtain over my meal.

Family was breaking up, Daya and I were sitting and talking, and then it seemed rude not to help clean up, so I did that, and then goodbyes until the morrow and Daya was asking me, sotto voce, whether she could have another cigarette before she left.

The building is confusing, but not that confusing, and I feel like she could have found her way back to the quiet spot, but I let her make me show her the way again. I was feeling positive toward the world. Good food does that to me.

And when she sat down next to me, probably too close for comfort, I let it happen. And when she leaned in and kissed me, I was okay with that too. Sometimes things just happen.

"Sorry," she said, blushing, when she came up for air. "I just wanted to do that."

"Don't be sorry," I said with a happy sigh. "I'm totally okay with it."

I had, at some point, I think, given the impression that I was okay with this sort of thing, somehow. I don't really remember it coming up, but hey.

"You want to come back to my place?" she asked, shyly.

"Your place?" I had been under the impression that she lived with her family.

"No, I've got an apartment." Better still.

We drove to her apartment. Or rather, she drove and I tried very hard to convince myself that this was a bad idea, failed, and then started nuzzling her neck a little. She laughed, musically I might add, and pushed me away.

"Do you do this often?" she asked me.

"Make out with cute girls? Yeah, not often enough."

"I mean, with clients." Well, that threw a little cold water on the whole thing.

"I try not to shit where I eat, but sometimes..."

"Oh, sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Not if I want to get your pants off." That brought mutual good feeling back to the car.

"Do you do this often?" I asked her.

"No. Once in high school at a party, and I've made out with some girls in college, but if my parents found out..."

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed."

"I hope not." See, I knew I liked her. She was witty, had a nice laugh, and yeah, she was young enough to be my daughter but I'm not made of stone.

We made it to her apartment in one piece and without losing any clothing, but only just. She hurried me up the steps and inside, and then into the back room, her bedroom. It was cool and dark and welcoming. Smelled like incense. Nag Champa, the kind I remember using to keep campus security from smelling pot. I guess some things never change.

She started kissing me again, gently, longingly, and I helped her hands to my chest where she seemed at a loss for what to do. "You've never gone all the way with a girl," I said finally, noticing her reticence.

"No. Sorry."

"No need to be sorry. We can just kiss and talk if you want."

"No. I'm so fucking horny I'm ready to explode."

Well then.

"Then why don't you just lie back and let me do the work?" Because I believe in welcoming budding lesbians into the fold with charity. It's the best way to encourage them to come back for more. Remember that kids: it may be their first time, but it won't be their last unless you really fuck it up, so be kind to the next person in line, because who knows, it might be you.

She let me pull her t-shirt over her head, pull down her jeans, and there she was in extremely conservative underwear for someone so forward. I'm not complaining. She was cute as a button. Not exactly granny panties or anything, but plain cotton and not revealing all that much.

Her belly though. Slim and taut and with an extremely kissable bellybutton. So I kissed it, because I was eye-level with it and it seemed like a good idea. She jumped out of her skin. I stroked her abdomen and kissed her stomach again, and she relaxed a little.

Eventually I worked my way back up, then guided her onto the bed, pulled off my shirt and jeans, and let her gawk a little because let's just say I was wearing more exciting undergarments than she was. I had taken my previous experiences of the year to heart and started wearing slightly better undies to work because one never knows, and in this case it paid off.

"You're so pretty," she said in awe, which I'm only reporting as fact, I'm not endorsing as opinion.

"No, you're gorgeous," I said, then before she could contradict me I kissed her and undid her bra.

Nice tits. That's all I can say about them. I know some people like them large, particularly in the Indian subcontinent, but hers were small, pert, and perky, with oversized dark nipples. I massaged and kissed for a few moments, then I kissed my way down her delectable collarbone and started suckling on her left nipple, and she was writhing already. I guess "horny enough to explode" wasn't far wrong.

It seemed like she didn't need much warming up, so I curtailed my usual foreplay and worked more quickly. Got her panties down and her legs spread shortly thereafter. She had a thick black bush, which, I'm not going to lie, isn't my first choice, but it looked nice on her. And she smelled like cinnamon. Her pussy was redolent with cinnamon, that's all I can say. Maybe it was some kind of product, or maybe I was just being racist and assuming that an Indian girl's cunt should smell of spice.

She came almost immediately after I flicked my tongue over her swollen clit. She didn't announce it or anything, but she spasmed to beat the band. If only all girls were that easy. But she didn't stop me from continuing my ministrations, so I ministered. Her pussy was dark lips and swollen clit, her asshole was a dark rosebud which she didn't seem to mind when I ran my tongue over it. What can I say? I'm trying to be better about eating ass if the situation calls for it.

"Oh Lexi, wow," she said, but with no indication that she wanted me to stop. I slipped a finger into her tight wet snatch and stroked while practically felating her clit, and she stopped talking and just moaned, high-pitched and needy.

After another finger joined the first, and I was stroking hard into the roof of her cunt, she gasped and then spasmed again, hard this time, her knees squeezing my head like a vise, her breathing ragged. No squirting but she got really, really wet. "Oh fuck," she gasped, then her hips bucked twice, and she relaxed and shakily pushed my face away from her clit.

"I hope my neighbors didn't hear that," she whispered. "That's all I need is for snoopy Ms. X to call my parents on me."

"I wondered if you were holding it in a little," I said softly, moving up to lie next to Daya and kiss her. She seemed slightly reluctant at first, but then I guess she got over her fear of her own pussy juices and we made out for a while. I got better acquainted with her breasts, her hips, and even her ass, which was nicely cuppable if maybe just a little flat.

"Do you want some too?" she murmured to me.

"Only if you want to."

"I feel weird being the only one who came."

"Don't. It's my gift to the first-timer. I can get mine any time."

"No, that's not fair." And she pushed me down to the bed. "Plus... I kinda want to see what's under your bra."

Tit-fixation much? That's fine by me. She strangely had no trouble getting my bra off, which I know can be tough for first-timers. Maybe that one time at a party had gone farther than I thought? Whatever, she was fascinated by my breasts. Worshiped them with her mouth and tongue. I was getting plenty ready myself, if I hadn't been already.

Then she moved down and pulled off my panties. "Oh wow," she said. I don't particularly think I have an awe-inspiring vulva, but Daya didn't have much to compare it with, and it was wet and waiting for her, so maybe a little awe was appropriate.

She wasn't bad, for a first-timer. Particularly since a lot of first-timers don't bother to eat me out after they get theirs. I get handjobs more often than not. But Daya dove in and seemed to like the taste. She wasn't adventurous and I had a satisfactory but not exceptional orgasm, but it was nice. It's always nicer when they're showing their appreciation.

I didn't make her try for two with me, not that I couldn't have gotten two off. I pulled her back up and we made out and pressed naked, sweaty bodies against one another for a while, then I started fingering her while kissing her, then my other hand was on her breast while two fingers stroked up in the old reliable motion, and I got a squeal out of her when she came. She bit her lip while she was cumming, so I just heard the moans in her throat.

And then, bless her, she fell asleep and I was left without a way to get home. So I waited a little bit, texted Sveta to let her know what was up, and then after what seemed like forever but was probably only an hour, woke Daya up and asked her, sheepishly, if she could drive me back to my car. I hated doing that, but I really had to go home and sleep myself.

We parted with a kiss. That was nice too, and she clearly was up for more, and it killed me to leave it at that, but fucking in the parking lot wasn't in the cards.

The next day, she blushed every time she looked at me, and I was pretty sure someone would notice, but fortunately she and I were all alone in the booth during the performance. I did get to ask her, "Why choose me for your first time?"

"I don't know. I wanted to."

Which, I guess, is all that matters.

After the show, she was called away to be a sister, and then they all hustled off to eat somewhere, and though I was invited, I had to get home and feed my own family so I politely declined. Daya looked a little sad, but in an ill-advised moment I did give her my contact info, so it's not like she can never see me again if she wants to. She hasn't contacted me though, so maybe it just gave her the confidence to get with someone her own age. I hope so.

Unicorn

I am happy to be a unicorn for a couple. I've made my position on threesomes clear enough on this blog: I cheerfully participate whenever possible. That said, I don't go looking for couples to make happy, and much of the time that's what winds up happening.

Ages ago, back before COVID and my extended hiatus, you may recall that the Mrs. America pageant came to my place of employment. If not, go read about it now.

I think I made my feelings about beauty pageants pretty clear in that post, but the short version is that I think they're degrading, but I get why some people do them. I also made my feelings on the subject of Mrs. America pretty clear, but the short version is that I think it's a way for fading beauty queens to try to hold on to their youth and a way for husbands to make their wives participate in a meat market. I'm happy to say that that's not always the case, but I don't care for it.

All that preamble out of the way, the Mrs. America pageant once more graced our shores and I wasn't really looking forward to it. It had been a bunch of years since the last one and I don't miss it at all when it's gone, plus my friends of the last time were probably no longer involved. I was proven right in this supposition.

The pageant was just as horrible as last time. I didn't really even have a clear favorite. Whoever she would have been, she wouldn't have won because the women who won were the plastic ones. Stupid. Very stupid.

The organizer of this pageant is a woman who is definitely a fading beauty queen. Let's call her Fantasy, not because that's her name but because her name is similarly stripper. I remembered her from last time. Only this time she was much more friendly for whatever reason.

It started when I was getting tables out for them. She was so thankful. And so impressed with my strength because I could lift a table. I get it lady, you think I'm not womanly. You don't need to rub it in. But she was oohing and aahing over me like I was the world's strongest woman. 

Then she was all compliments for the rest of the rehearsal process too. Not about my strength, either. She wanted to know why I wasn't doing the pageant, and I resisted telling her the real reason. "But you're gorgeous," she said.

"If I don't work the pageant, it won't get done," I pointed out. "Plus I'm not really a Mrs."

"But you're wearing a ring."

Indeed I was, and do. I screwed my courage to the sticking place and prepared to be denounced as a harlot, then explained the situation, as far as it needed to be explained.

When she found out I was married to a woman, I thought she would get judgmental, or maybe not care. She looked... I don't know. It wasn't what I expected. Maybe a combination of eager and disappointed. I figured it was indigestion.

But she didn't stop talking to me or get judgmental. In fact, she was very nice about it. Said, "Oh, you count as a Mrs. You should enter next year."

And then she started hitting on me. Like, I don't know how else to describe it.

So I figured, the old girl is horny and hubby isn't satisfying her needs. She started not-so-delicately asking whether I was totally unwilling to go outside the bounds of marriage. Stuff like, "A cute thing like you, your wife must have to keep a close eye on you."

Now understand, this woman is old enough to be my mother. Maybe not as old as my actual mother, but definitely not my type. Plastic fantastic, to go with her name. But despite all that she's got a tight little body. Not gonna lie, it was definitely a butterface type situation, at least with her clothes on, and she didn't seem to be wearing any shapewear or anything. Big tits, possibly fake but possibly not.

And I was feeling... charitable. So I was entertaining thoughts. It helped pass the time. Helped put me in a mood to enjoy ogling the contestants a little bit. Yes, there weren't any of them who really caught my eye, but they weren't hard to look at.

After the show, she was all over me again, compliments, questions, just basically all over me. And her direction turned subtly from figuring out that I wasn't in a closed marriage. I made no real secret of it. She didn't seem surprised. I don't know, a lot of people think that all queer people are DTF at the drop of a hat.

But her direction turned to asking me whether I was interested in joining her and her husband for drinks afterward. And it clicked. She thinks I'm her unicorn. This isn't about her being hot for me. This is about her recruiting me for her husband.

Which soured the equation for me a lot. It made me feel kind of tawdry. And I almost turned off of her and the idea completely.

Except she insisted that I meet her husband. And her husband, let's call him Stone, was not the type to be telling his wife to do anything. Meek. Very meek. Agreed to everything his wife said.

They say curiosity killed the cat but I really wanted to know what was up. So I took them up on their offer of drinks. At their place. I was expecting there to be an after-party, but no, everyone went home after the pageant. I closed up shop and drove to meet my destiny.

They had a mansion in the burbs. Very nouveau riche, very gray. Stone tossed back a large amount of scotch. I stuck to nursing my girly drink despite Fantasy attempting to ply me with more. She had white wine.

Finally, I guess Stone got his courage up and asked, "So Fantasy, does she?" 

"Well I haven't really asked her yet," said Fantasy, and I enjoyed seeing her squirm a little. Honestly, what was getting me through was feeling sorry for Stone. He wasn't terrible to look at, for an older guy. And he was clearly henpecked, but at the same time he had been eye-banging me all evening.

I didn't enjoy the tension, so I decided to end it. "If you're wondering whether I'd like to have a threesome with you, the answer is yes."

Fantasy laughed. I think it was the first genuine thing I'd seen her do. "Oh sweetie, you cut right to it," she said. "You've got a cute body and a dirty mind. I like that." She downed the rest of her drink. "Ground rules. No kissing. I won't go down on you, but I'll finger you if you like. You can do whatever you feel like to me. Stone watches. Once I get off, he's free to do whatever you two want as long as you two feel up for it."

You might think that I'd have a problem with this. The thing is, it was so matter-of-fact. It wasn't fake like her demeanor had been. And I respect people who know what they want. "I can live with that," I said. Because of the butterface situation, I wasn't going to miss kissing Fantasy. She looked like it would be like kissing a blow-up doll.

We adjourned to the bedroom, where we all undressed rather perfunctorily. I hadn't been expecting any sort of fun, though I guess in future I should plan ahead, so I was wearing basic black at usual at work. Fantasy was wearing rather sensible undergarments, flesh colored. Stone was wearing boxer briefs, gray. I was pleased to see that Fantasy hadn't been hiding anything. In fact, her body looked even tighter in underwear. Her skin was kind of sun-weathered but she wasn't saggy or anything.

She took off her bra first, and tits which were too perky for her age spilled out. She's had work done, I'd bet the farm on it. Then she pulled down her panties and lay back on the bed.

I know some people would be freaked out in this situation. I have seen my mother naked more often than not, and I've seen my parents fucking, sometimes each other, so I felt slightly... nostalgic maybe? I've never eaten my mother out though, but fortunately Fantasy looked nothing like my mother, so that didn't bother me either.

I took my undies off because why not, then settled in between her legs to do what I had promised. She smelled like baby powder, which is actually a smell I like in a woman. Better than most perfumes. And when I got close enough to examine it, her vulva was actually quite appealing. Little tan-colored lips, a cute little clit just hiding under her hood, and a pink opening beneath.

I should stop here for a moment to say that I don't judge books by their covers or anything. I've had great sex with women who have had large pussies and small, of many colors, with lips and clits of every size, and none of those things have to do with age. I don't know, I was just expecting Fantasy to have a different pussy. That's all. I should learn not to expect the carpet to match the drapes nor the floor to match the windows, I guess.

Fantasy was very vocal about what she wanted. Which I should have expected, but which also made me both happy that I didn't have to guess but then annoyed that she seemed to be treating me like a sex toy with voice control. At least she didn't have much taste. Just mild pussy.

I started kissing her inner thighs, but after a few moments she claimed to be ready, so I moved to kissing her labia, then when she instructed, I began licking them. She liked long slow licks over her whole pussy for a while, though she continually adjusted the timing and strength until she was happy with it. "Okay, now put a finger in me," she said, so I slipped my middle finger into her cunt. She shivered, and I felt her muscles tense a little. "Not so fast," she said like she was instructing a child.

I felt rather than saw Stone put his hand on my ass. It spooked me and I exhaled sharply. I hadn't been expecting it. I thought he was supposed to watch. But my twitch and breath was a happy accident because Fantasy loved it. "Oh god, do it again," she moaned, sounding like she was losing herself in the moment for the first time.

Who was I to argue? I curled my finger sharply into the front of her vaginal passage and flicked her clit with the tip of my tongue. Correct choice. She gasped and arched her back.

Stone,unseen behind me, was caressing my left ass cheek. It felt nice, not imposing, now that I was expecting it. I curled and flicked again, and his wife moaned loudly, and he clutched the cheek.

"Oh god, come up here and suck my boob! I'm gonna go off!" Okay okay, jeez lady. I licked my way up her body, the skin smooth against my tongue, and fastened my lips around her left nipple. Oddly, Stone's hand stayed on my ass, in fact slipping fingers into the cleft between the cheeks, grazing my asshole.

Then I curled my finger, hard, as fast as I could while sucking her nipple so hard I probably broke capillaries, and she practically screamed and came, hard. I felt the spasm in her breast and on my finger.

Well, job well done Lexi, I guess. I've had worse experiences. She was fairly easy to get off and didn't expect more. After she came down, she gently stopped me. So no repeat was necessary either.

Now to Stone. I looked up from his wife and he was standing next to the bed naked. Not in great shape but not bad for his age. Graying hair, graying pubes which he must groom. His cock was hard and wasn't disappointing.

Then I got the shock of my life when he said, "Ok bitch, suck it hard," and practically pulled my head into his cock.

Huh. For such a meek man with his wife, I hadn't been expecting that. It threw me off a little. His cock was down my throat before I had time to think, and I gagged on it a little. Tasted a bit of bile when he let me come up for air.

"Yes baby, treat her like the dirty whore she is," moaned Fantasy from behind me.

I found my head pulled down on his cock again, but this time I managed to keep from gagging. Instinct took over and I let him pull me down until his pubes were tickling my nose. "Oh fuck yeah," he said, holding me there until I almost grayed out for a second.

A few more of those, with commentary from both, and I guess he was ready. "Now take it, bitch," He growled forcefully, pulling me to my hands and knees on the floor. There was a pause as he got behind me and pulled on a condom. In other circumstances, I might have told him to forget about it, but I was still reeling.

But goddamn if it wasn't making me wet. When he mounted me forcefully, I almost came right away. His cock filled me in a way I've been missing lately, not having regular injections of Vitamin D.

And then he was fucking me, hard and fast, his hands on my throat, in my face, pulling my hair. And I was cumming, over and over again. He grunted at a certain point and I felt him press deep and hold it for a few seconds, but my pussy was so battered that I didn't feel him cum. He stayed hard though. Little blie pill maybe. I don't know enough about it to know whether he had anticipated this.

He was degrading me with his words, he and his wife both were, and doing it very well because I was letting it happen and feeling pretty good about it. At some point we wound up on the bed, him beneath me, pulling my hips back and forth on him, his wife lying beside him holding my hand. He pulled me to the bed beside him, almost throwing me off the bed, and then moved to position, ripped off the condom and then spurted several weak jets of cum onto my chest.

I had barely registered that by the time he had on another condom and had my on my face on the bed, fucking me from behind again, just as hard as before. He slapped my ass and it barely made it through the haze of orgasm. He was driving me into the mattress with each thrust.

After a while I guess the pace tired him out finally and he pulled me up again to reverse cowgirl on his lap. I was about out of orgasms. I lost count of how many. His cock was thrusting directly into the front of my cunt in the best way, and it was still hard as a rock. It took what felt like forever for him to get off the third time, and when he finally got close he said, "Now finish me off with your throat, whore."

He basically fucked my head for a minute or so, then tensed and relaxed a few times, but whatever spunk there was I didn't get a chance to taste. It went right into my stomach.

Then he basically tossed me aside like a condom, went to his wife, kissed her warmly, then grabbed a robe and left the room.

I lay there next to Fantasy until she got up and grabbed a robe too. "Here, honey, cover yourself up," she said not unkindly, and tossed another robe onto me. I managed to rouse myself enough to put it on, under her appraising eye, then followed her into the living room again. She offered me a glass of wine, which I accepted shakily. Stone was already there, sitting with a full glass of brown liquor and a cigar.

"Really Stone, do you have to stink up the place?" Fantasy asked, with a tone of voice that suggested she was back in the saddle again.

"Sorry dear." He quickly stubbed it out. "But that was..."

"You're incredible," Fantasy said to me, sounding like she meant it.

I didn't feel incredible. The afterglow had kind of worn off and now I was feeling the fatigue of an hour of hard fucking. But I accepted the compliment.

We sat in the living room drinking our drinks. They complimented me more. They talked about how they had found a few other women through the pageant. "But nothing like this," Fantasy said. "Honey, you're a trooper."

The compliments started to work on me, I won't lie. When they said I should totally do pageants, I didn't immediately say no, I just said I would think about it. Stone's robe fell open at a certain point and he was still hard, and by god I felt like sucking it a little, so I asked if that was okay. Fantasy was shocked but eager, Stone was shocked but willing. I wanted them to see that I could be more than just a sex toy.

This time I took charge a little and clearly Stone couldn't figure out how to get back in the Dom headspace because he let me. And then I knew how to put the icing on the cake. Plus I'm not going to lie, my pussy felt a little worn out.

"Do you want to fuck my ass?" I asked him winningly.

Fantasy was shocked into silence. Stone looked at me like he couldn't believe it, but strammered something affirmative. So I stood up, dropped my robe, pulled his a little more open, and then lowered my ass onto his spit-slick cock.

His hands moved instinctively to pull my hips down until he was buried in my colon, then I rocked slowly for a few moments. His legs spread and my butt squirmed down another fraction of an inch.

Then I began slowly bouncing, just an inch up and down. I wanted to keep feeling his entire length in my ass but I knew he needed a bit more stimulation. He started pressing up as I bounced down, and I felt the tickle of one last O eluding me until I reached down and stroked myself into it, short and soft.

Then it was all about him. I was really feeling the fatigue, so I suggested that he take over a bit more. I wound up on my hands and knees again, with him fucking me from behind, but gentle, like the bedroom had been a different person. I looked over and Fantasy was watching every move, her eyes hungry. But she didn't make any move other than to watch.

Finally he came. I didn't feel it and I don't know that he enjoyed it as much as he could have, but it happened. He pulled out of my asshole after a moment of tension and I rolled over and then crawled to the sofa and drank the rest of my wine.

No compliments. Just awed silence. I enjoyed that too. It helped me feel a bit of agency in the situation.

Fantasy offered me another drink, but I declined. I went into the bedroom and put my clothes back on. They made no move to stop me.

Then, after some goodbyes where both of them, despite their rules, kissed me, I was on my way to the door when Fantasy said, "Oh shoot," and ran to her purse. She pulled out a roll of bills and went over to me. "I meant to give this to you at the theater, but I got distracted." And she handed me a twenty.

"Just one?" Stone asked.

She looked chagrined and added a second to the first.

Now, I remember the last time the pageant was here. I got tipped then too. Ten bucks. So while I'm sure I had been destined to get some kind of tip, I'm pretty sure the sexual performance had added to the total.

Am I okay with that? I don't know. I guess I'd rather be tipped than paid for sex. Plus it wasn't enough. If I'd actually been charging, that would have been insulting. I've thought about it and I don't regret the experience. I do regret the fact that they'll be back next year and probably want more, but then again who knows?

It did make me feel a little bit like the help. Hell, for all I know they've fucked the help. Probably not though. Not like that. And that's where I'm sitting, in the top spot. Fuck yeah.

In the end, I made them happier than they made me, but I had plenty of orgasms. I guess the lesson is that sometimes the power dynamic is skewed.

Panties

Sexy notes wrote a follow-up question to the last post: "One thing that surprises me about your picnic encounters... what were you doing wearing panties???"

Well, I actually wear panties a lot of the time when I wear a skirt or dress. Believe it or not, I am pretty demure when it comes to being outside the house in mixed company. I don't always, and sometimes I'm feeling a bit naughty, but I'd say the majority of the time I'm wearing a skirt or dress, I'm wearing panties.

There are non-sexy reasons for that: I don't know where most things I sit on have been, so an extra layer of cloth between me and them is something I enjoy. Plus there's the fact that, while many people might enjoy being flashed glimpses of my nethers, others do not, and I'd rather be safe around the possibility of the latter.

There's also the fact that I think I look good in panties. I think most women do, at least if they're wearing panties that flatter them. Hell, there are plenty of men who look good in underwear of various kinds, and girls look sexy wearing boxer shorts, and so forth. 

And there's the fact that there's something extremely sexy to me about getting fucked with your panties pulled to one side. Panties are a kink of mine, I think.

There's also the practical matter that, if I get excited or creamed (ideally both) I like to have a layer of fabric to keep me from making a mess of my chair. That's just logistics.

And lastly, a lot of times when up-skirt action takes place, I wasn't expecting it to. I default to wearing panties when I'm not expecting a reason to want to divest myself of them, and I definitely default to wearing them when wearing skirts or dresses that are short, which my Fuck Me Dress is.

All of those factors conspired to put me in panties on the day of the picnic I was talking about. Well, most of them. I had a pretty good idea that I was going to get fucked that day but I didn't know he'd be up for shenanigans out in the open.

I don't remember his name. It was college and there are plenty of college boys whose names I don't remember. It was a yearly picnic that the college threw, to celebrate the onset of warmer weather. There'd be some music and entertainment throughout the day, and we were invited to spend it on picnic blankets. They'd even serve the cafeteria food outside. And there was booze aplenty

He was actually Gwen's boyfriend (Gwen, for those who don't remember, was my college roommate). That didn't mean a whole lot, but it did mean that I wasn't really expecting him to be totally receptive to advances. But I knew he could use his cock and I liked the look of him.

Gwen was off doing something at the time. He and I knew each other from other things as well, so it wasn't weird for me to sit with him on a blanket. And wouldn't you know it, I can't sit in the sun because I don't tan, I cancer, so the shade of a tree away from the major population centers was fine for both of us.

Now, had I been totally shameless, I would, as Sexy Notes suggests, not have worn panties. That would indeed have been an invitation to him, particularly had I guided his hand up my thigh or something. But while I was working on him, I didn't expect him to go for it until a bit more work was put in. Maybe once he loosened up and had a few drinks. No, I was not going to date rape this young man, but he wasn't exactly the loosest of people and I figured I could use a little help. Don't do as I do, kids. Respect boundaries.

But as it turned out, there was no reason to worry about respecting boundaries. I played a little coy and teased him a bit, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one who'd had a drink by the time things escalated. I was drinking tequila straight from the bottle. This was not allowed by the powers that be, but no one cared.

I don't recall exactly what gave rise to escalation (probably due to the tequila) but he asked me point blank whether I was coming on to my roommate's boyfriend, and I bashfully admitted that I thought he was cute. And I expected him to either shut me down or to say, ok, let's go someplace more comfortable. But instead he put his hand on my thigh and looked me right in the eyes and it became a case of who was seducing whom. I completely understood why Gwen was taken with him.

He basically invited me to sit between his legs while he put his arms around me from behind. My ass was up against his crotch, and I could feel his erection through his pants. I put my arms around his arms and covered for him moving his hands to my breasts and massaging them very nicely thank you. I was getting plenty aroused and he seemed to be too, but when I suggested that I sit in his lap, I wasn't sure how he'd respond. Not everyone is up for PDA, let alone basically dry-humping.

But he let me flip my skirt up so it was just his pants and my panties between us, and then he went back to kneading my tits and I just started rocking my butt against his cock. He got harder, which was nice because it showed that I was in for a treat.

And I probably could have suggested that we adjourn to my room, but for two reasons. One, neither of us really wanted Gwen to walk in on us. Him because I'm pretty sure he thought he was cheating on her, and me because I felt slightly guilty that I hadn't cleared it with her first. Also selfishness. There was every likelihood that she would have opened the door, seen us going at it, and said, "Jeez why didn't you wait for me," and joined in, and for whatever reason I didn't really want to share. I think I was getting off on the illicitness of it.

Two, it was so nice outside. The music was playing, the sun was shining, the air was a perfect temperature, and we were having a fine time right there. Going in would have meant packing shit up and going in.

So when I leaned back against him and whispered, 'Put it in me, please baby," I don't really blame him for going for it. The panties which were the start of this reminiscence were no impediment at all. His pants fly was a bit tougher, because it just wasn't in the right position, but unbuttoning and spreading them open fixed that, and then he pulled down the waistband of whatever underwear he was wearing, I forget, and his hard dick was sticking up under my skirt. I held my panties aside for a moment and we negotiated an entrance.

Looking back on it, anal probably would have been easier, but I didn't want that and he didn't ask for it. It thrust him up into the front of my pussy nicely, and it didn't take much movement on my part to make me cum. And Gwen is a doll, wonderful in the sack, but she doesn't cum like I do. He had his hands wrapped around my waist and he rocked his hips up and down a little. On close examination, we weren't fooling anyone, but no one was giving us close examination.

Plus there's the fact that one time at one of these picnics some girl gave a guy a drunken blowjob right in the middle of everything and no one cared, so us having quiet nookie on the outskirts wasn't going to raise any eyebrows. And no, that girl was not me.

I came, he enjoyed that, he nuzzled my neck, his hands massaged my hips, and we rocked gently for what seemed like hours but which was probably actually five minutes. Then he made me cum again, which made him cum. He slipped out of me, we adjusted our clothes as best as we could, and I lay back against his chest and we waited for dinner.

Then later, when things had quieted down considerably and the light had faded, he asked me if he could fuck me again, to which I replied yes please, and we found a secluded corner where no one could see and he pulled down my panties, up my skirt, and slid his rock hard rod into me. He lasted longer that time, through two orgasms on my part, before he pulled out and had me take it in the mouth. I would happily have taken another creampie but whatever.

After that, we agreed not to bother Gwen with the details. They dated for another month or so and then broke up. I admitted to fucking him after they broke up, mostly because she wanted sister solidarity and I lied a little and told her that he wasn't that good. I never fucked him again, which was fine with me because I had plenty of fish in the sea, and it wouldn't have been fair to Gwen to bring him around. He was cute though. I wonder what ever happened to him? 

And lastly, to those asking for photos, I'll see if I can track down a picture of me wearing my Fuck Me Dress, but no promises. And anyway, isn't the mental image you have better than any lousy photo could be?

Dressing and Undressing

I've always been partial to a good sundress, as I believe I've said in the past on here. I think they flatter me, and they're reasonable attire without being either too formal to wear most places or too slutty to wear most places. I mean, the sundress is a large enough category that that's not true for all things called sundresses, but you get my point.

Of late, however, I haven't been able to wear many of the sundresses I own because, not to put too fine a point on it, I don't feel comfortable in them. They don't flatter, or they're just not fitting right.

But I hesitate to get rid of them because part of me thinks, foolishly, that I'll still be able to wear them at some point. I need to find the source of this thought and kill it with fire because life is too short to hold on to foolish dreams, but it does bring me memories.

Part of why I like sundresses is because of a particular sundress, a yellow and white floral number that I call my Fuck Me Dress. It's not the only Fuck Me article of clothing I own, but this dress used to make me look hawt. And what was hotter, was that it was great to fuck in.

It's just long enough to be demure (on someone with a shorter frame it'd be positively saintly) while still being only a few inches away from seeing my panties. If I twirl in it, it rises provocatively, but still maintains an innocent air. It blouses a little in the chest which makes it look like I've got bigger boobs than I do, and it flatters my midsection.

But that's not why. It's just hard enough to get out of that it makes it more convenient to simply flip up the skirt, and the spaghetti straps are sized just right for pulling down the top. Many's the time I put it on for some other reason and Mike, or even Dad, ambushed me and pumped me full of seed before I could even use it to full effect on my intended target.

The skirt is just right for someone to rest a hand on my ass, and yeah, back in the day my ass looked hawt in that dress. It looked hot in plenty of things, to be perfectly honest. But a hand on my butt didn't disturb the way the fabric lay, and better still, because of its cunning construction, if the back of the skirt was flipped up the front still preserved it's modesty. 

I remember taking advantage of that one time at a picnic. I sat on my chosen target's lap on our blanket and slowly, achingly rubbed my ass on. His hardon until he finally couldn't take it and we managed to negotiate his cock out of his pants and my panties to one side and then he was inside me and it was a good thing we weren't close to the center of the crowd.

But even better, being fetched up against a tree, or a wall, dress pushed up, panties pulled down, and being properly fucked standing up, his hands down my top and holding my tits... Yeah, this was a great dress for that too.

And it rewarded the patient by coming off on many occasions as well. Or basically being cinched around my waist and forgotten in the heat of the moment. That dress has seen more fucking than most of my other clothes put together, I imagine.

And it no longer fits. It's a little threadbare anyway. I should probably get rid of it. Times change, and these days I wear pants to work and I don't have anywhere near as many guys clamoring to hike up my skirts a little. If I had a daughter, I would give it to her, as a good luck charm. As it is, it lives in my closet as a reminder.

Just So I'm Not A Liar

This probably should have been just the end of the last post, but I got tired.

So the next day was the final show with Kari. Which made me a little sad, as I said. We were pretty quiet during the run of the show, and I wondered if maybe she was feeling a little down about it too.

The curtain call came, I hit the last cue, and there she was standing next to me. "I figure we've got maybe five minutes while everything clears out before they expect me to start working," she said in an urgent tone. "I can cum in five. Wanna make me?" 

Which is hardly the worst pickup line in the history of pickup lines. Honestly, "I can cum in five minutes. Wanna make me?" is a good line if you're female-presenting. Masc folks, sorry, it's not the draw for you. Anyway.

I like a challenge, so I pulled down her pants and panties in a rush, then put my head between her legs and went to work. I was secretly incredibly turned on by the idea that someone would come into the booth looking for one or both of us, but at the same time terrified by that same idea.

I may have gone a bit heavy on her clit, but I got the O out of her in short order. Then she pulled me up, gave me a big kiss, pulled up her pants, and we left it at that. Didn't really say goodbye. She went and did her job, I went and did mine. She did cast me a glance which could have meant a number of things when it was time for her to leave, but we were formal.

I went home and told Sveta and Zoe I needed both of them to work me over a little, which they did in suitably adoring fashion. Not that I didn't give as good as I got. At a certain point Sveta was eating me out while Zoe sat on my face so hard I was having trouble breathing, and I'm pretty sure Zoe was fingering Sveta simultaneously.

Afterward I told them why I needed it so bad, and they were suitably sympathetic. Zoe thought Kari had been a bit rude. Sveta refused judgment.

And then Kari emailed me the next day and told me she'd slept with another cast member. I couldn't help feeling a little jealous, not that I've got anything to be jealous about. More jealous for the freedom of the road. Not that I want that. Like I said, I'm too old for touring.

And then I got over it and wrote her back congratulating her and hoping she has a good remainder of her tour. They're reasonably local so there's a pretty good chance I'll see her again. Honestly, now that the immediacy and novelty is gone, I still miss her a little, just because it was nice to be able to talk shop while snuggling.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the semi-regular in updates. I'm in a fairly busy time at work right now but who knows what'll happen?

Continuing to Miss Kari

Yeah, she's been gone for more than a week now and I'm just getting around to the final part of the story. Sorry. I do have other things I have to do to make ends meet.

Anyway, enough of that. The last part of the story is really not the last part, it's the penultimate part, because... You'll see. I hope.

The day after her first go with a strap-on, Kari showed up raring to go. She reeled me into an embrace the second we were alone in the booth, got her hands on my ass, worked her thigh between mine and rubbed hard. "That's for breaking me," she murmured into my ear, then kissed me, fierce and slightly possessive.

"If you don't stop I'm going to get in trouble," I finally forced myself to say. Not because I was in any danger of getting in trouble for kissing her in the booth if anyone found out, but because if she kept it up I was going to rip her clothes off right there.

"I just wanted you to know what you did to me last night," she said, pulling away and grinning. "When I say you broke me..."

"What did I do?" 

"I know I said I couldn't cum anymore, but that was a total lie. But you made it so just fingering myself didn't cut it. I tried and failed to get off several times. Just made it worse. I am so fucking horny right now."

"I don't think we have time before the show..."

"No, we don't. But after, you're coming back to my room and you're going to give me what I need or else."

I swear, I'm not tooting my own horn here. "Why didn't you get someone else to, you know..."

"I could have but I owed you," Kari said with a smile. "Besides, I'm going to see them all tour. You I only get today."

Which made us both sad because it was true. They were leaving tomorrow and thus, the tryst would end. Such is life, I guess. She seemed okay with it. I was a little more sad because she was leaving, which makes sense.

The show dragged on, and at one point I looked over at Kari in the booth and saw her with her hand absently rubbing the seam of her jeans between her legs. Not like she was jerking off on company time, just like she was scratching an itch. She's far too professional to be distracted. And I'm not one to judge. I felt a little guilty for being the source of any distraction she might be experiencing.

Finally the show finished and we had our various things to do, then she drove me over to the hotel. On the ride I was cheeky and tweaked her nipple through her clothes, and she sighed and let it happen.

We made it through the door without incident, then by mutual and silent consent both ripped our clothes off. Then we collapsed into the bed and started writhing against each other, making out like two newlyweds, breasts pressed together, lips locked, my hands cupping her ass, hers wrapped around my back. I worked my way to her ear, and she started moaning as I nibbled the lobe.

"I'm going to really break you this time," I growled into her ear.

"Yes, yes," she said.

"How do you feel about me playing with your ass a little?" Because consent is important, and also because she'd given no indication whether that was a no-go zone or not.

"I'm kind of a virgin," she giggled. "I've never really done anything like that except with fingers.  But I like it when you rub it."

So I took advantage of my longer arms and got my finger between her cheeks and teased her rosebud a little. "You want me to do anything else?" I breathed into her ear.

"Like what?"

"You want me to give you a little taste of what it's like?" 

"Uh huh," she gasped.

I pulled away from her and flipped her over, then kissed and licked my way down her back. I like lower backs sometimes too, and I enjoyed hers, giving her little nips when she didn't stop me the first time. I should probably have asked, but she enjoyed it so I continued.

I continued to her cheeks. I'm not "an ass man" but she has a great ass, nicely proportioned, pert, bubbly even. She gasped when I nibbled, and I thought maybe I had gone too far, but then she lifted her hips a little and moaned, "Oh god yes," so when in Rome, right?

My fingers were busy too, getting between her thighs and slipping into her quivering cunt, which made her orgasm almost immediately, though I could tell it was just a little one, just a preliminary. It's been ages since I've been with someone this orgasmic, which I really will miss.

Then, because I walk the walk, I helped her to her knees, my fingers still inside her. It just made her butt more attractive. And now I could see the rosebud. And yeah, I'm not super into this kind of thing, but I'll rim a virgin ass to help out the cause, so with my fingers inside her pussy I suckled get tailbone for a moment, then dove into the deep end.

Fortunately she is very hygienic, so she didn't taste musky or worse at all. Just that perfume flavor again, which I didn't mind so much at this point. The texture of her anus was taut rubber, if I can describe it at all. Lightly ribbed. Warm and smooth.

She was moaning loudly now, encouragement and nonsense mostly. I pressed my tongue into her anal ring and tasted the first musk, but nothing I can't handle. She trembled.

Then I pulled back and, after getting reassurance that this was okay, pressed my pussy-juice-slick finger slowly into her asshole. Not very deep, up to the first knuckle, but giving her a little taste, like I promised.

Fortunately I brought lube so when she was begging for more I could get it, then lube her up properly. My finger went back into her rear entrance more easily this time, and I worked it in slowly until it was deep inside her. "Oh wow, " she moaned.

"Now roll over and let me get you off with a finger in your ass, girl," I said with a grin.

Which I proceeded to do quite nicely thank you. Feeling the tension and release on my finger in her ass was great. She came for a good long while too, then lay back, spent.

"Did I break you this time?"

"Fuck. I don't know what I'm gonna do without someone to do that to me every day."

"Well, I know a place near here where you can buy lube and plugs, if that's of interest..."

"But you haven't gotten any..."

"You have anything else planned for this afternoon?"

Thus it was that Lexi and Kari went to the local toy shop and picked out a beginner plug. And some lube. And she insisted on buying me one too.

Then we went back to her hotel and she wanted to play with me using my new plug, so I lay back and let her. I think after orgasm three she got the hang of it, really. That's weird to say, but the first two Os were mostly on me, whereas three and four were definitely her using the plug and her lips and fingers.

And then I helped her insert her plug, pulled out the trusty strap-on, and fucked her cunt until I couldn't anymore. I don't think she was cumming after a while. I think she was just moaning and lying there and taking it. What can I say? She wanted to be broken, so I broke her.

She almost didn't have the energy to drive me back to my car. She thanked me profusely. Then she said, "I'm going to have to let my husband fuck my ass now."

"Oh yeah?" 

"It only seems fair for him to get to be the first. But it's so far away. I want it now." She grinned and made an attempt to seem jokingly petulant, but I strongly suspect her resolve will be tested.

We talked about first times and I gave her a few pointers, but I think she'll be okay. She likes it. That's the important thing. She said she was definitely going to practice with her plug.

Yeah, gonna miss her.

I Will Miss Kari

After we got the preliminaries out of the way and knew where we both stood, Kari and I saw no reason to stop with just one meetup. The following day I brought a strap-on and wore some slightly more interesting undergarments, preparation which was vindicated by her saying, the second we were alone, "You up for another romp, maybe a little longer this time? I've got a hotel room with a comfy bed and..."

"I was hoping you'd say that, because I brought a toy with me," I said with a laugh. "Well, not the part about the hotel. That's just gravy."

"You're sure? I don't want to impose, but yesterday was a lot of fun and I figured if we had a bit more space we could try a few things."

"Honey, I was looking forward to it. I hoped you weren't going to get bored with just me."

See, even people who are up-front about sexuality still have hangups.

"Bored? After you had me cumming like that? What toy did you bring? I've got a trusty vibrator friend..."

"Oh, this is fun for both of us," I said, then pulled out the strap.

"Damn girl, that's what I'm talking about," said Kari appreciatively. "It's going to be all on you though because I've never worn one."

"There's a first time for everything," I almost purred.

Then we had to cut it short because she had to go do her job. But she did give me a very deep kiss before going, which I don't think anyone saw.

After the show, I was raring to go, and I think she was as well. Her hotel was close by the theater, so she drove me, batting my eager hands away from her fun bits. We made it through the door without devolving into PDA in extremis, but only just.

We kissed and stripped clothes off until we were in our undies. I was wearing a lacy set, pink because why not. She was wearing more conservative but still sexy mismatched panties in light yellow and bra in flesh tones. She lay back and let me take her bra off, which I have to say, guys, I'm with you, bras should be easier to take off from the front, but I managed it.

It took everything I had not to just go for the gusto, but instead I worked her up even more by suckling on her nipples, then moving down to her belly and kissing and stroking. She was breathing really deeply by the time I got to the waistband of her panties, and there was a darker patch spreading on the crotch.

"Oh my god I'm so ready," she moaned, writhing her hips up against my chin. I couldn't keep her in anguish any longer. I could smell wet pussy and it called to me. I just pulled the crotch of her panties to one side and slipped a finger into her, using my chin to hold her bucking pelvis down.

I felt her spasm on my finger almost immediately, but kept up the pressure, got another finger into her cunt and rode her for all I was worth. She wailed something unintelligible and kept cumming, then came again quickly afterward when I stripped her panties off and got my tongue against her juicy lips, lapping like a dog.

Finally she relaxed and lay there spent and I crawled up to join her on the bed, my knees carpet-marked from kneeling so long. "That was wonderful," she sighed happily. "But now I'm too tired to do anything to you in return." She grinned. "Kidding. But give me a minute to get my breath back."

"You'd better," I said teasingly, "because I expect a nice hard fuck for your first time with a strap-on."

Giggling turned to stroking turned to kissing, our bodies sweaty and trembling with exertion. Her skin against mine felt nice. When she wrapped a leg around me and pulled me closer, I slipped my hand down between us and teased her clit, not touching it but putting a finger to either side and stroking. Pretty soon my thigh was between her legs and her dripping cunt was running against my upper leg, but she gave as good as she got and my pussy was being stimulated to breaking point by her thigh.

I didn't want to cum like that though, so I pulled away and went to my bag, forgotten by the door in the heat of the moment. I pulled out the strap and despite her joking protests got her into it and situated.

There's a common misconception that strap-on sex is all about the receiver. I find a double dil to be more pleasant when giving, but I still find the pressure of the base of the dildo in a strap-on winds me up. And her clit was much more sensitive than mine. So she was feeling it when I started playing with the dil a little.

Then, I was showing off. I started giving head to her dildo. I deep-throated it with no trouble, and she oohed and aahed appropriately. Then I told her to lie back and I'd do a bit of the work, and mounted her.

A dildo isn't a cock, and that's okay. She felt it as a slowly eased my aching pussy down until our pelvises met and I rocked. That's usually better for sensation. Thrusts are less pressure on sensitive parts.

She reached up and grabbed nipples and tweaked, and her hips pressed up a little, and I ground out a little orgasm, our clits almost touching.

"You did all the work," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. "I want the full monty." So we rearranged ourselves into a doggy style position and she fucked me from behind.

Beginners don't always get it, but Kari was a natural. She was moaning and thrusting and I was moaning and taking it, and we passed several orgasms on each of our parts before she pulled out and reeled me into an embrace. "God damn, I'm going to have to get me one of these," she said, grinning and flushed.

We talked for a bit, then she wanted to learn from the master, so I swapped into the harness and fucked her until she begged me to stop. "I can't cum anymore," she gasped. "You've broken me."

So we took showers, separately unfortunately, and then dressed and she took me back to my car. There was promise of more the next day, but I'm going to have to break here and continue a bit later.

Unexpected Nooner

So this week at work we've got a touring theater company renting the space. It means I get to babysit, mostly, but I also get to hang out with actual theater people. Which is nice, mostly. It makes me feel like an underachiever, but it's still nice to be able to talk shop. I hate that the shows are in the morning, but in this case it was nice.

The company's stage manager is everything I like in a stage manager: she's well-organized, on top of things, and also attractive. Curvy in a white girl way. About my age, maybe a bit younger, still has energy but has also seen some shit. Long light brown hair that she pulls up onto a messy bun, cute face with an upturned nose. Let's call her Kari. 

Kari is also the type of person I like, because she's theater folk but also she's not shy about sex. Not putting herself out there, but not afraid of being a sexual being, in other words. The theater seems to attract that sort of person, or maybe it makes people into that sort of person because if you stick around long enough you've seen everyone naked.

I'm running the light board for this show, because they're using our board and they don't know it like I do. Their designer basically told me what he was looking for and I programmed it in, but sometimes things need to be tweaked. But it means I'm up in the booth with Kari and we have a fair amount of time to shoot the shit.

The best part about Kari is that she's married but is completely okay with the fact that she and her husband never see each other so they have an open marriage. That came up when she told me that she'd fucked one of the leads. I said, "Oh, aren't you married," and she laughed and told me that her husband was working another show and was probably fucking his way through that cast. I guess when you tour you get like that. I don't know, I've never had the stomach for touring.

She said to me, "Speaking of married, Frank is, or I'd have jumped him the first day." Frank is another of the actors.

"Oh yeah?" 

"Come on girl, you know you'd do him too. God, just looking makes me wet."

Now I should say that Frank isn't unattractive, but I wasn't salivating over him in particular. Honestly I was doing a bit of ogling at the young female lead. I admitted as much.

"Ooh girl, you're crazy. That young, they have no idea what they're doing."

"Yeah, but half the fun is teaching them." I'm not sure this is true, but hey, it was shooting the shit, I'm not obligated to be entirely truthful.

"Oh so it's like that is it? Tell you what. After the show, you can show me a thing or two if you're up for it. Frank's got my junk in knots and I could use a good session."

See, I like Kari. No awkwardness, no wasting time. "I didn't know you swung that way or I would have been lusting after you a bit harder," I said. "Not that I wasn't."

"Hell yeah, I swing all ways," she laughed. "But if you're after younger meat..." 

"I don't mind looking," I interjected quickly, "but girl, don't go telling me you're not hot."

That got her. She blushed red enough that I could see it even in the dim light of the booth, strammered something self-deprecating. I'm the queen of self-deprecation, so I admitted to myself that, had our positions been reversed, I would have probably felt the same way. I'm just glad I got the first compliment in.

I have slept with several stage managers in my day. I find them attractive. Kari was really no different, but she was more forthright about her desires on the subject, which made her even more attractive to me. Plus she was available and willing. So hell yes she was hot.

I grew somewhat damp in the panties after that. Kari recovered her self-composure and I wasn't cruel and didn't try to break her again. By mutual assent we didn't discuss future undertakings any more during the show, though she did regale me with several amusing stories about various sexual encounters with members of the cast, some of them from previous tours. That kept the mood pleasantly anticipatory.

After the show she had to clear everyone out, but as stage manager being the last to leave wasn't remarked upon. And anyway, had she told anyone she was sticking around to get some, they probably would have cheered her on.

So it was lunchtime and the theater was empty except for her and me. Yeah, that's the sort of lunch I like.

We sat down next to each other in the green room (which, for those unfamiliar, is basically the actors' lounge area outside the dressing rooms where there's some sofas and tables and they can hang out while not on stage). It was strangely awkward for a moment, like we'd suddenly lost our nerve. Then we both giggled at ourselves, then like the ice had been broken we kissed.

She kissed like she was: no nonsense, organized, thorough. Her tongue and mine nestled together in her mouth, her hands held my shoulders, and my hands pulled her closer to me. She's shorter than me which isn't odd, so I had to lean in a little, but it worked just fine. Then her hands slid down and started to raise my shirt.

I hadn't been expecting this, which seems to be the theme of a lot of my work encounters these days, so I wasn't wearing anything fancy, just my regular work attire of jeans and t-shirt. We broke the kiss and she pulled the shirt over my head, then went to work suckling my collar bone while her hands undid my bra. Then she moved to my tits.

"I hope I'm not going too fast," she said, before wrapping her lips around my right nipple and flicking it with her tongue. I sighed and didn't stop her. She did the same thing to my left nipple briefly, then pulled back and let me pull her own blouse off.

Kari has big breasts and they do sag a little when she's not wearing a bra, but it was okay. I still enjoyed suckling them, and she seemed to enjoy what I did to them. I kneaded them with a thumb and forefinger on each nipple, which were quite dark against her pale skin. They started hard but became more so, and when I bent my head to lick the underside of her breast she leaned back and signaled her approval.

We didn't stay long on tits and nips though. She was already sliding her shorts down, exposing cotton panties, light blue with flowers on them, sort of out of character for what I expected, but cute as hell. She has a little belly despite the curves, and I enjoyed nibbling it a bit before she shifted her weight a little and pulled her panties off too.

I said white girl curvy and I meant that, but she was proportional. Her large chest and wide hips didn't look out of place, and I found myself wishing I could see more of her ass even as I spread her legs and got a look at her cunt for the first time. Dark, swollen lips, very womanly and already wet. I didn't waste much time warming her up. 

Her clit was already swollen, but when I ventured near it she flinched a little without meaning to, so I took the hint and stayed on her lips for a while. They were sensitive too, but she pulled my head closer when I started nibbling them. And when I ran my tongue up over them from bottom to top, she gasped and came, or at least she said she did.

She tasted a bit like perfume, which I didn't love, but the stronger taste of pussy overpowered that. She made no move to stop me from continuing to lick her after she gasped that she was cummming, so I kept licking steadily from top to bottom over her swollen lips. Her hands were tangled in my hair and her hips were raised as if to give me better access. When I slipped a finger into her wet passage she moaned and tensed on it briefly.

All in all, she was fun to eat out. She came again shortly after, and she let me get another finger into her and curl up against the upper wall of her passage, and finally she got into that with my lips around her clit sucking softly until she was moaning continually, her legs on my shoulders. I was beginning to wonder if I was stuck for the duration when she seemed uninterested in stopping, but suddenly she lowered her hips, gently pushed my head away, and said, "Damn, that was nice. Now it's your turn." Like she was offering to pass the potatoes at dinner. It made me wish I could hang out with her more. Actually, it made me wish I could hang out with her and her husband. I bet sex with them would be great.

Her pussy-eating technique is straightforward, especially when I told her my clit was much less sensitive than hers. She got two fingers into me and fucked me with them while lapping at my clit, which was plenty good enough to get me off repeatedly.

"I've never been with a woman who was as ready to go as me," she said after she'd come up for air.

"My usual partners take a little more doing than you do too."

"Partners?"

So I explained about Sveta and Zoe. Not everything, of course, but basically how I'm in a polycule with my wife and girlfriend. "Oh, got it," she said. "That wouldn't work for me. I love my husband too much to share him with anyone."

And the thing is, I know exactly what she meant. She didn't mean sexually, obviously. It's something I've seen in plenty of people who are like me about sex. They don't want to share their partner with someone else in a deeper way, call it love or whatever. Sometimes that's unhealthy, but often enough it's perfectly normal.

We chatted, mostly her asking me questions about polyamory, which I mostly tried not to fuck up because I still don't think of myself that way. We got dressed, and we left thoroughly satisfied, or at least she seemed to be.

It was really nice to meet her, and I'm going to miss her when she goes. We exchanged information but both admitted we're lousy at keeping touch. Still, who knows? Maybe the company will come back on tour again.

Swamped One More Time

Maybe you remember last year around this time, I had a brief but interesting assignation with Erin, the private school teacher. Maybe you don't. Go ahead and read it again. I'll wait here while you enjoy yourselves a little.

You can imagine my glee when I learned that her school was going to be performing their yearly play again at my place of work. I didn't want to jinx it so I didn't mention it as an upcoming attraction here. After all, maybe she wasn't teaching there anymore, or maybe she wanted nothing to do with me.

Well, I got so convinced that she wouldn't even be there that I was pleasantly surprised to see her when they arrived. She put on a little weight, but in a good way. As you may recall, she was very skinny, and a few extra inches just made her a little curvier. Still no boobs, still Summer Glau, still hot for that. I'm not saying I don't enjoy, say, a nice handful like the Big Boss has got, but there's something about flat-chested Summer Glau lookalikes that revs my motor just fine, thanks.

This year she didn't come up to the booth, and she had her hands full. We exchanged polite greetings but from the way she was acting I figured that any repeat of the previous year's festivities was off. That's okay. I don't mind. Sometimes people cheat and then can't do the guilt thing.

The play her students were doing was interminable, as most middle school plays are. I didn't have that much to do, really. Zoned out and scrolled through social media. I hadn't even told Sveta and Zoe that Erin would be there because like I said, I didn't want to jinx it.

Then at the end of the night she came up with the microphones. No one else around in the booth. "I could really use a back rub," she said cautiously.

Honey, I can read the signs. Gone was the pretense of being disinterested. This time, she looked positively needy. I don't want to toot my own horn but girlfriend was jonesing for it bad. "Can you spare the time right now?" I asked her, just as circumspectly. No sense in being too forward if she wasn't comfortable with that. She might just want a shoulder massage.

I should add, as an aside, that the reason people like my shoulder massages is that I have stronger hands than you'd expect. Which means that some people don't like them because they're too deep. I had not expected Erin to be in the former camp because she was so slim, but she really liked the deep tissue nature of it even before I got to grabbing her tits. So she genuinely could have been just interested in a good hard massage. I didn't think so, but stranger things have happened.

"Not here, but if you come back to my place..."

Ok, I wasn't imagining things. She wanted more sex. I'm so okay with that. "I don't have your address from last time."

She told me in hushed tones like she was entrusting me with the nuclear codes.

"Right now?"

"Let me get the last of the kids off."

Sometimes the god of setups grants you the perfect one. "You get them off and then I'll get you off," I said with a grin.

She turned beet red and covered her mouth like she was afraid to laugh. Which made me laugh. Which made her even more embarrassed. Finally she regained her composure, smacked me in the arm playfully, then left to get rid of the kids.

It was a lot easier to just go to her place after I was done closing up. Last time I think I had to follow her and worry about getting lost. This time, GPS, wham bam thank you ma'am.

She was waiting for me when I came to the door, ushering me quickly inside. "He's out of town again," she said. I honestly didn't care if he was in the next room waiting for us. I kissed her friendly-like, which turned into a feverish attempt by her to crawl tongue-first into my mouth. Girl needed it bad, I guess. We made out and felt each other up for a bit just standing in her living room, then she pulled me rather roughly into the guest bedroom. Clothes were shed, bodies were revealed, and this time she wasn't shy at all about it. I wasn't sure whether that meant that she had explored her options or what.

Having already "taken one for the team" and let her have most of the fun the last time, I felt it was only fair that maybe this time she sample more than just fingers in my twat, but first I wanted to eat her out until she begged for mercy because I'm generous like that. There was no comment on the fact that she was shaved, with just a sensible tuft of pubic hair at the apex of her vagina. I enjoyed manhandling her slightly-more-curvy body while working my way toward the pleasure button, and then I finally got her on her back with her legs spread wider than I would have thought was comfortable.

"Oh goodness have I needed this," she sighed as I lapped pussy juice from her very ready slit.

"Shhh, just lie back and relax," I said. I got a hand on her nipple, a finger in her cunt, and a pair of lips on her clit, and started slowly working her toward orgasm.

She didn't last long. Her legs wrapped around my head, her hand threaded through my hair gently pulling me closer, and I felt the tension build inside her, then erupt with a series of hip-raising spasms. Remembering last time, I didn't press the issue or try for additional joy. I kissed my way up her shivering body and then, before she had time to think about it, I was feeding her some pussy juice from my finger while I nuzzled her ear. She sucked my finger like a cock, and I found myself idly wondering if she gives good head to penises.

I let her bask in the afterglow for a few moments, then we kissed, and as I was naked this time I ushered her down over my chin to my neck. She was hesitant, but eventually she found her courage or something and moved her lips to my left nipple and began inexpertly to nibble it. With some mild correction I managed to keep her from chewing on my tit, and correction devolved into a series of moans as she found the right way to do things and started revving my motor. I'm not above enhancing the experience to reward a willing beginner, and when her hand slipped down between my legs I moaned even louder.

She suckled and fingered until I had a small O, which I made out to be a bit bigger than it actually was. I had been hoping she might take the hint and move the kisses lower, but she came up for air and kissed my lips again, then snuggled into my arms.

"You have no idea how long it's been," she sighed sadly.

"Really?"

"He's never here, and when he is he's always tired."

"Girl, if I had you waiting for me at home I'd be saving it up for you."

She chuckled wryly at that. "You're sweet, but... well, it doesn't matter."

"Sure it matters. You deserve..."

"I think he's cheating on me," she said abruptly. "I found texts on his phone one time. He said it was just work, but it didn't sound like work to me. He was going to meet with whoever it was after hours."

"It might just be work..."

"I bet she has big boobs," Erin said bitterly, turning away from me and putting her hands over her chest.

"Honey, don't," I said. "If he's cheating on you, it's not because of you. And you've got great tits."

"Really? I always got made fun of in school because I didn't have anything there."

"Baby, I love your chest," I said seriously. "It's just the right size for you. If he didn't like your tits, why did he marry you?"

"Because he got me pregnant," she said softly.

Well. There were kids involved? "You've got a kid?"

"Two. They're with their grandma. I couldn't... I wanted to see you again..." She was tearing up.

"You don't have to make excuses to me," I said kindly. I really didn't care that much, as long as they weren't going to show up and spoil what fun might still be had. Yes, there was a cold, calculating part of me which really wanted to get Erin's mouth on my pussy. So sue me.

She told me enough of the story to go by: she wasn't his first choice, she was just young and desperate to belong, he talked her out of her clothes one time, knocked her up, they had to get married right after high school. "And he's always held it against me," she sighed. I had expected tears but it just seemed like she was tired.

"You can't leave him?"

"How? Even if I didn't have kids, divorce is a sin... though I guess I'm past that by now." She shook her head. "My mother would die. She's why we got married in the first place, really."

"Well, you don't need to worry about me telling anyone," I said, kind of stupidly. I'm not sure what that had to do with the conversation, but she seemed to appreciate it.

"I haven't made love in months. And the last time I... cummed, was with you." I thought that was adorable.

"You don't play with yourself?" I asked, the shock coming through a little in my voice.

"Oh, yeah, I just meant with another person."

"Right."

All my resolution to introduce her to her next level in the Sapphic arts was crumbling in the face of sheer pity for the poor thing. Not that I was planning to fuck her out of pity, but that I wasn't planning on expecting much of anything from her in return.

"Cumming isn't the same without you," she said sadly. "I mean, it scratches the itch, I guess, but it just makes me sad."

"Well, I'm happy to make you happy."

"Could you?"

"Of course."

So I found myself back between her thighs licking and fingering, and this time she took longer to wind up. She was wet and slick even without my tongue, and she tasted very nice, so I didn't mind putting in a little extra effort. She was moaning and writhing and then, finally, she let out several short wails and clenched down on me and shuddered and arched her back, then sighed and relaxed.

"So it's always like this? With you and your wife, I mean. Oh goodness, does she know about me?" 

"Yes, she knows and is totally fine with it. And no, it's not always like this. Sometimes it's quick, sometimes it's slow. Just like any other couple."

"I mean, you both... cum? Every time?"

"Oh? Yes honey, unless something is really strange."

"I understand why you married her."

"Honey, it's not just me and her. You should be getting off from sex, if you can."

She snuggled into me a little. "With you I do."

She wanted me to spend the night, of course, but I didn't think that was a good idea. We did snuggle a bit more, and I almost thought of trying to get her to eat me out after all, but something stopped me. I don't know whether it was out of pity or out of the knowledge that she probably wouldn't be very good at it her first time. 

Then I pulled on my clothes and left her lying naked on the bed looking forlorn. I should have stayed, but I figured maybe she'd want seconds the next day.

The next day, though, she told me sadly that there was no chance of a repeat because her kids were home. "My parents couldn't watch them," she explained. She was almost in tears.

So I gave her my phone number. Not for booty calls but for someone to talk to, if she needed it. She hasn't yet, but I bet she probably will. I told her she was welcome to come to my house if she needed to. I still haven't told her about Zoe, or really broached any discussions on the subject of bisexuality. I'm not sure how Erin will react.

But I do feel sorry for her. Not in a pity kind of way, just in a fellow feeling kind of way. I don't know what it's like to have a religious upbringing, except second-hand, but I know what being stuck in a relationship that doesn't work feels like. And I know what it's like to cheat. She feels guilty, I know.

Anyway, that was less sex than I wanted but more than I expected. Hopefully it was interesting to you too.

All the Fun

Daddy came over the other day and whisked me off to his car. I wish he could just come in and fuck us all properly, but he said he was just there for me. For Zoe's benefit we invented some sort of business which needed to be transacted, Sveta gave me a knowing look that looked a bit jealous, and then off to the car we went.

"I'm getting too old for car sex," Dad said as we drove. "But I can't spare the time to take you back home."

"I'll ride," I said eagerly.

We found a deserted spot free from any lookers-on, and then I gave him a 5-star blowjob. Worked the head, the shaft, got it down my throat, bumped my cheek against the steering wheel, the whole bit. It's been a while since I gave head in the front seat of a car. Well, since I gave head to a penis.

"I'm not gonna be satisfied with just your mouth, girly," he chuckled after a while.

"Me neither," I said. He tucked himself back into his pants, I readjusted my top a little, and then we got into the back seat. A car drove by close enough that we worried for a minute, but it was twilight at that point and they kept moving, so either they didn't see or they didn't care. I confess, a small part of me was thrilled by the illicitness of it all, and an even smaller part wished they'd stopped and asked to join.

Because I hadn't been forewarned, I was wearing sensible clothes, so I had to pull my pants and panties down, but when I settled my butt back onto his erection, I felt complete. I still haven't gotten tired of the feeling of my Dad spreading me with his monster cock. I remember the first time feeling the same way. I hope it always does.

We fucked side-saddle for a while, slowly, me rocking my ass a little to thrust him deeper into me. Then he said, "Fuck it, let's find a more comfortable position. I'm never going to get off this way."

We decamped to the great outdoors, fully dark this time, and he fetched me up against the hood of his car, trapped my legs with my pants and panties, and fucked me hard from behind. Masterfully, I might add. Yes, I'm biased, but I wish people who would enjoy it could experience my Dad. He doesn't get out enough anymore.

We had been chatting while we fucked side-saddle but that was all forgotten in the rush to go harder, until finally after I cam multiple times he unloaded a huge load into me. Like a good girl I knelt and cleaned his cock off, then he put himself together, I did the same, and we drove back to my house. He dropped me off. "I don't want to give Sveta any ideas," he said with a grin.

Zoe didn't remark on my need to have Sveta eat me out, immediately. She accepted, "I saw a cute girl and obviously I couldn't do anything about it until now," as an excuse. At least, I hope she did. Sveta enjoyed licking the cream out of me, and I enjoyed cumming yet again before Sveta gave me a look which said, "You've been having all the fun," and went over to Zoe, who was reading on the couch nearby. Sveta spread Zoe's legs, pulled aside the underwear, and started licking Zoe's pussy while I enjoyed the afterglow.

The two of them made love for a long time, swapping back and forth, and I didn't join in. After all, I had been having all the fun.

Mercy Fuck

An anonymous reader asked me, "Have you ever given a mercy fuck?"

Well, I've described a few here. But it got me thinking. 

I used to give mercy blowjobs a lot. Once I was okay to do that (because I'd had my first time) I would frequently blow guys to get them out of my hair. Like, suppose I went out with a guy and he was clearly angling for some pussy but I just wasn't that into him? Yeah, I might offer up a bit of head to let him down easy.

I'm not saying I blew every guy I dated. At all. But if he was reasonably nice and I just wasn't feeling it, I could get him off with my mouth with no problem.

I did give a mercy blowie to a friend of a friend which then turned into a mercy fuck that wasn't really mercy. He and I had had a decent time, she was clearly stringing him along and he was pining for her, but she was dating a much more macho guy. Me, I don't get that. This less macho guy would have been better for her. But young people, you know.

Anyway, we had all been hanging out, he had been mooning over her, she had ditched both of us, and he had been a gentleman and offered to drive me home, which I appreciated. And he was painfully hard in his jeans, judging by the way he was walking. So I offered my standard blowjob, no strings attached. It was pretty obvious he wasn't interested in me, but I figured I could help a brother out.

He accepted, which surprised me a little, but again, young people. When you're offered a free blowjob by a girl, I guess you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. But he stayed hard after a fair amount of ministration on my part, and he was warming up to me, so I guess I wanted to see if he could stay hard inside me. I was half expecting him to press in and go off, given how hard up he must have been, but after we established that the road to home plate was open and he was being waved there by my third base coach, he let me ride him in the back seat of his car for a respectable period. It didn't escape my notice that he wanted to do reverse cowgirl and was probably fantasizing about his actual love. I didn't care. He was hard and he used it well.

I don't remember the upshot of the evening except that we became good friends and never fucked again. I think he mooned over my girlfriend for the rest of high school, then he went off to college and we lost touch.

But that wasn't really mercy.

Let's see. I once was wingman for a girl I sort of knew who had the hots for this guy, and he brought along a plus one too, so it was a foursome, and when the two primaries hit it off, the respective wingmen were mostly left to our own devices. My opposite number was not my type at all. But this was back in the days when my type was more broadly defined, shall we say, and I felt sorry for him, so when the primaries went off together to her place or his, who knows, I invited the wingman back to my dorm with me.

I was thinking I'd just get off giving him a blowjob, but he pulled out condoms like a magician, and frankly I had nothing else to do that evening. So I got naked and let him grope me a while, then let him fuck me in an extremely unenjoyable manner, got a load on my tits for my trouble, then sent him packing. That was definitely mercy.

But the one I remembered when asked the question was this older guy at a bar who bought me a drink. Now, I'm not against older guys, but he wasn't particularly appealing. Until he said something along the lines of, "I know I don't have a chance in Hell with you, but I'm buying you a drink for the privilege of pretending for a minute." Something like that. Which is a decent pickup line, honestly, and maybe he was just a really good actor, but he seemed really sincere, and so I let him chat me up a little.

And he seemed nice once we got to know each other, and it wasn't like I was beating guys off with a stick that night, so I let him take me home. Older bachelor pads are a bit pathetic but I ignored it. I don't remember the act itself except that he was decent with his cock and pretty good with his hands. He was a perfect gentleman the whole time too. We lay in bed and chatted after the first time, about his ex wife, oddly enough, but not in a bad way. I think he was still shocked he'd landed me. I told him I didn't see why, which was more kind than true but was self-deprecating in the way I tend to be. Then after a bit he was ready and we fucked again. I know I came.

So sometimes mercy is rewarded, I guess. Or, if you're a guy, be a gentleman and shoot your shot and maybe it'll work out better than you expect? I don't know. I suck at morals.

The Blogger Age-Restriction Thing Update

So apparently it's not just my blog. It seems like it's something to do with EU restrictions, but there's no way for me to turn the age restriction login requirement off. That said, here's a Reddit post about how to disable it on your end, if you so choose. Thanks to Jim for seeking out the answer!

I'm sorry. It's hitting me right in the views (not that I'm getting that many of them these days) but it's not a monetization issue for me because I make no money off this blog and have no intention of changing that. I don't want your credit card details, Google does. I totally get that you're not interested in giving them that information. Neither am I.

If you can't access the blog, you're not reading this anyway, I guess.

Just more evidence that sex work isn't regarded as legitimate by anyone but sex workers. I'm not one of those, but this is going to hit them hardest.

Watersports Request

A kind reader who knows who they are wrote asking for more Zoe piss stories, and frankly I shouldn't have needed the encouragement to instigate some, but I did. We hadn't really even discussed it since the first time the first time. So I took the initiative.

"Zoe, how do you feel about drinking some pee?" I asked her while we were sitting together on the couch doing nothing.

She got beet red and covered her mouth with her hands and stammered something while looking straight at Sveta.

"Honey, I don't care. I think it's wonderful that you two enjoy it," Sveta said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." But she was a little rosy in the face as well, and she scolded me, "Lexi, don't mess with the poor girl."

"I just wondered. There's no reason to be coy about it. After all, weren't you two just all up in each other's cunts not an hour ago?" This was true, but I was also shit-stirring.

"That's different!" gasped Zoe, who still hasn't really gotten used to the easy way I talk about being all up in people's cunts.

"How so?"

"It just is!"

"Well, next time I'll write you a letter. Dear Zoe, would you do me the honour of supping upon my urine. Yours, Lady Harkbush-Quackbottom III." I actually don't remember what name I used. It was something like that.

Sveta giggled and then composed herself. "Be nice," she said to me sternly. "Zoe, if you want to, just say the word. But don't let her pressure you into anything."

"I mean..." Zoe prevaricated.

"See? It's fine." I am horrible.

The upshot was that, while I didn't tell her that I was only doing it for the blog and my kind reader, Zoe abashedly admitted that yes, she would like to sample the delights of the the shower of gold.

And once we got to the bathroom, she went all subby again. Practically begged me to piss down her throat. Who am I to refuse?

Unlike the first time I had planned ahead and hydrated properly (which one should always do, regardless of whether one is planning to engage in watersports) so I had plenty of juice to share. And having examined my motives and feelings. I was feeling a bit better about being a top in this situation. I don't top Sveta particularly but Zoe really likes it.

I pulled her down to level with my pussy and then told her to open wide. My hand was tangled in her hair and her face was just so happy. I let out a trickle at first, pulling her face to my pubis and spreading my legs a little. It's a bit awkward; guys have it much easier. But her lips were locked around the source and she was suckling, so I let her have a little more. My bladder control isn't porn-star level or anything, but I was able to cut off the flow without overflowing her mouth.

"Now I want you to lie back and let me cover you with warmth," I said, or words to that effect. Zoe was obediently lying supine before me and I squatted over her body and directed the stream a little. I don't think I covered her, exactly, but I got her very wet.

"Now clean me up, there's a good girl." I don't always top aggressively. Sometimes I'm more like Mary Poppins, who would make a terrific Domme if you ask me. I would totally do whatever Mary told me to do.

Zoe licked my pussy clean of any remnants, kept licking as I pulled her head closer to my pelvis, licked the way she knows I like until I had a small O and released her. She sat there on her haunches like an expectant child.

"Do you need to go?" I asked her. She nodded. "Go put on a pair of panties for me."

She ran out of the room like a greased pig. I had a moment's worry that she was leaving pissy footprints all over the house, but I hadn't really gotten more than her torso and her feet were still clean. She trotted back in wearing a pair of cute white cotton panties.

That's one thing I really appreciate about Zoe. She doesn't go in for frills in the undergarment front, but she does wear the most innocent little panties ever. Perfect for peeing in.

"I want to see you piss those cute little panties," I said. They were already a little damp from my contribution, but the crotch was unmarred. 

She sighed with gratitude and squatted in the tub in front of me. And then she let go. I expected her to need to warm up to it, but nope, she just let fly. The urine trickled down her leg, the cotton of the panties became practically see-through, and she shuddered with what I can only assume was pleasure. "Play with yourself through those messy panties," I said.

"How do you know how to do this so well," she said, reaching down and starting to diddle through the wet fabric. "It's just what I wanted."

I didn't really know how to answer. I don't take flattery particularly well, and in this case I had just been winging it, seeing what stuck. It would have been much better to discuss it beforehand but Zoe isn't ready for that yet, so I do a bit of guessing.

Instead of answering, I pulled her face to my pussy. "Less talking, more licking," I said, not unkimdly.

She eventually got me off again, and judging by her flush, she did herself as well. "Can we try something?" she asked me.

"Sure thing, kid." I wasn't really feeling particularly dominant at that point. The afterglow and all that. I was pondering turning on the shower and cleaning us off.

"Do you have any left?" 

Did I? Yeah, I had built up the reserves a little expecting they might be needed. "Sure honey."

"I want to try, you know, scissoring while you pee. I wish you could put it inside me." 

"I'd love to. Do you want to go too?" 

"Yes."

She stripped off the wet panties and we managed to get into a position where our piss-slick pussies could rub against one another. I wish I had a bigger bathtub.

She started making little whimpers as we slowly rubbed, then I said, "Here you go, girl," and released the last of my bladder onto her. She must have done the same, though I couldn't really feel it. I did feel her cum against me, though I'm afraid it was more on my thigh than anything else. Then I pulled her into an embrace. "Did you like that?" 

"Loved it."

So I gained a few brownie points with Zoe. And that's no bad thing. She makes a mean brownie.