Lovers

I eased the door open with a gen­tle touch, her qui­et "Come in!" still ring­ing in my mind. I peered into the warm­ly lit room, and im­me­di­ate­ly, there she was, sit­ting on the bed. My heart al­most melt­ed.

My fists clenched... as did some­thing be­tween my legs. She was stun­ning. She was wear­ing just the right out­fit, be­cause of course she was. A pair of black shoes were a few paces from where her feet dan­gled off the side of the bed, her long, slen­der legs en­veloped in vel­vety, thigh-high ny­lons. Her legs were spread wide, plump pussy lips dis­tinct­ly vis­i­ble un­der­neath her lacy white panties, and a match­ing white coverup was draped over her shoul­ders, bare­ly ob­scur­ing her chest. Her short bob of straight, blonde hair framed her soft, smil­ing face, and the life in her chest­nut eyes quick­ly en­veloped me in a cozy haze. I dropped my bag with a small thunk and bit my lip, just vis­i­bly enough for her to see.

"Do you like?" she purred. I want­ed to tack­le her in an­i­mat­ed glee.

"I don't know how you man­age to take my breath away, every sin­gle time." I said, set­tling in­stead for a force­ful hug as my lips touched hers, sa­vor­ing the feel­ing of her warm body against mine.

But our quick kiss would not last long, giv­en that she was al­ready fum­bling with the but­tons on my blouse. Soon enough, I was ea­ger­ly un­do­ing the clasps run­ning down her back. I swift­ly re­moved her top two bras, a sec­ond surge of af­fec­tion swelling up with­in me at the sight of her perky nip­ples just aching to be touched. And touch them I did—gin­ger­ly at first—let­ting out a hefty sigh as my fin­gers traced the out­lines of her firm bo­som. The ten­sion that had hung in the stale air sur­round­ing me since I'd left work evap­o­rat­ed, quick­ly re­placed with heat and love. She grinned at me, and I grinned back at her as she pushed an auburn curl out of my face. We kissed again.

This time it was bet­ter... slow­er... more de­lib­er­at­ing. Our lips in­ter­locked. I could taste her. Prob­ing, my hands found the fi­nal clasp, and I slipped her bot­tom bra out from be­tween our bod­ies, let­ting her breasts press against mine. I was big­ger than her, quite so, but her six B cups won in both quan­ti­ty and qual­i­ty. I couldn't imag­ine her even the tini­est bit big­ger: they rest­ed upon her chest like a plump sex­tu­plet of sweet berries, and when I held her close, I felt like I was be­ing en­veloped in them. I want­ed to feel them against my skin so very bad­ly, and I be­gan to feel al­most pan­icked and claus­tro­pho­bic trapped in my own gar­ments. She felt my dis­com­fort, too. A hand slipped un­der my shirt and tugged, and I in­stinc­tive­ly mo­tioned to let her ex­pose me, draw me clos­er, and free me from the un­der­gar­ments that would nor­mal­ly keep the mod­esty I so dear­ly clung to.

With Melin­da, though, there was no need to be mod­est. It was hard to be when she held mod­esty with such patent dis­re­gard. I faced her, both of us now top­less, and this time I real­ly did tack­le her onto the bed, her fan of hair splay­ing out against the warm bed­sheets, her soft, vel­vety stock­ings wrap­ping around my waist.

"You're still wear­ing your boots," she laughed.

And I was. My calves were still dan­gling over the edge, brown an­kle boots clasped tight­ly around my feet. I reached back with two arms and, with­out break­ing eye con­tact with the soft-spo­ken girl be­neath me, qui­et­ly un­zipped them and left them tum­bling to the floor.

"Have any­thing else to point out, miss?" I smirked.

"Yes," she said with a gig­gle, "you're go­ing to soak the bed!"

She was point­ing to my left leg, and though I could bare­ly see a thing be­hind my own dou­ble-D mounds, I could feel my juices trick­ling down my thigh.

"Just fuck­ing eat me out al­ready," I sighed with a tone that was sup­posed to sound ex­as­per­at­ed but real­ly just be­trayed how des­per­ate­ly needy I was. Melin­da grinned but silent­ly obeyed, tug­ging down the zip­per on my shorts and silent­ly slip­ping her­self be­neath my soak­ing crotch with an el­e­gance that made my hair stand on edge in an­tic­i­pa­tion.

One lick. I shud­dered. She was the best—there was noth­ing in­hu­man about her tongue, as far as I knew, but it was the best that had ever graced my crotch. Of course, they say there's no such thing as a free lunch: Miss Firth was also a first-class tease. There would be lit­tle di­rect­ness with her.

A sec­ond lick. I whim­pered: that one was just be­low my but­ton, and she knew it. I was trem­bling, prac­ti­cal­ly dy­ing to just grind my crotch against her face, and it was tak­ing all my strength to brace my­self. I knew it was com­ing, though, and I knew I was al­ready on edge. She ran a fin­ger around my crotch, play­ing with my mind, dri­ving me wild with lust. I felt a hand on my waist, and I closed my eyes—

"Fu­u­u­uck yessssssss."

I squirmed, but she held me firm, her tongue flick­ing against my clit, lap­ping at my gush­ing sex. She used her free hand to just bare­ly cra­dle the lips of my pussy, let­ting two of her fin­gers run the length of my slit. I squealed in pants of white hot plea­sure, my whole low­er body heav­ing, mov­ing to the rhythm of her care­ful min­is­tra­tions. I couldn't stop my­self—two of my hands wrapped around the back of her head and shoved her deep­er, and all I could do was splut­ter, gasp, and moan.

Her fin­gers were so deep, and her tongue was so hot. I couldn't breathe. "Yes," I whis­pered, too en­veloped in love to muster my voice, "right there." Deep­er. I spasmed. I want­ed to touch her, hold her, ca­ress her, make every­thing per­fect for her—in that mo­ment, Melin­da was my world. She was my god­dess, and I would have wor­shipped her as one. I must have or­gasmed with­in the minute, my sex-crazed body spat­ter­ing her face with girl­cum, my back arch­ing in gasps of plea­sure. My chest heaved, and the knuck­les on my hands were white from cling­ing to the sheets. I let her go with a deep sigh, and I slow­ly mas­saged my breasts, let­ting my­self slide ride out my re­lief. I need­ed that.

I rolled onto my side, col­laps­ing in an ex­haust­ed pile of well-be­ing, and as I gazed into her eyes, my face just glowed. Her whole face was glis­ten­ing, and her hair was al­ready grow­ing crusty from my dry­ing juices. I tick­led her chest and gave her a quick peck on the cheek be­fore let­ting my low­er pair of hands wan­der to the crotch of her own. It was my turn to make my god­dess hap­py.

When I felt what was down there, my eyes went wide. "Why, you're prac­ti­cal­ly sit­ting in a pud­dle, you hyp­ocrite!" I laughed, beam­ing as her sticky face grew flushed. My voice was still huffy from my thick breath­ing, but I was hop­ing it came off as sul­try rather than sweaty.

"I thought you were sup­posed to be the di­rect one," she blushed.

Words rushed through my fog­gy head to find a snarky come­back, but af­ter a few mo­ments, all I could do was nod. Af­ter all, I was al­ready slid­ing her fi­nal piece of lin­gerie off of her body with­out a sec­ond thought.

I real­ly did love this girl. She was cute as a three month-old kit­ten, and she knew ex­act­ly how to make me squirm. Her breasts were those of a mod­el, and I had of­ten watched with (voyeuris­tic) won­der when she made her­self cli­max by touch­ing noth­ing but those per­fect globes. I knew I could nev­er do that, if only be­cause I could nev­er re­sist what was down be­low: her sweet, glim­mer­ing pair of slick, tight vagi­nae. I was aw­ful­ly jeal­ous of her—I'm not sure I'd ever be able to keep my hands out of my pants with two clits to nee­dle and fon­dle. Still, in the ab­sence of my own set of twin pussies, I hap­pi­ly vol­un­teered to play with hers in­stead.

And so, still eye­ing her with pas­sion­ate ado­ra­tion from my post-or­gasm af­ter­glow, I wrapped my body around hers, hug­ging her tight, let­ting my­self fall into her body, be en­veloped by her aura. I placed my cheek on her right shoul­der and kissed her neck, let­ting my fin­gers probe the fa­mil­iar geom­e­try of her body, al­low­ing my­self to feel her every breath and shiv­er. I gave up my sense of self and let my eye­lids fall, al­most in­tox­i­cat­ed by pas­sion into a sex-fu­eled trance. I placed my palm over her crotch and be­gan to slow­ly rub, rev­el­ing in the warm rip­ples of feed­back from her breath, the bare­ly per­ceiv­able whis­pers of her sighs. She moaned soft­ly. Her ny­lon-cov­ered feet curled at the base of the bed, and her hands gripped my back, cling­ing to me as tight­ly as her two limbs would al­low.

I shift­ed my head to her oth­er side as I let my hands roam, ex­plore her folds, and slip with­in. She was so warm. I felt so safe. In that mo­ment, there was noth­ing but me and her. My eyes were still closed, but I could pic­ture each and every con­tour of her body in my mind. I stroked her hair and let my lips find hers. There was no re­sis­tance this time as my tongue slipped into her mouth and del­i­cate­ly in­ter­twined with hers. My low­er hands be­gan to ac­cel­er­ate, and my up­per palms were be­gin­ning to find their place upon her chest. She pressed her lips against mine as close­ly as pos­si­ble, paus­ing only to breathe, and when she did, she ex­haled deeply. As I knead­ed and prod­ded every bit of her body, it was her turn to spasm in a sud­den feel­ing of ex­cit­ed sen­si­tiv­i­ty while I brushed her clits and mas­saged her nip­ples.

"I love you," she whis­pered, bare­ly au­di­ble through her slow­ly slith­er­ing body.

"I love you more than you can imag­ine," I replied, ful­ly im­mers­ing my­self in her aro­ma, nuz­zling her cheek and rub­bing my­self against her thigh.

"I'm go­ing to cum."

"I know."

I could feel how hot she was against my skin, and I care­ful­ly pressed each one of her twin pussies to the brink of or­gasm. Mak­ing love to Melin­da was a del­i­cate af­fair—get­ting both of her girls to cum at the same time was not an easy feat—but she was oh so worth it. I could feel her clench down on my hands in an­tic­i­pa­tion, and I pre­pared my­self for what was to come. Time slowed to a crawl while I felt her warm breath trick­le down my neck and the fric­tion of her soles against one an­oth­er rip­ple through her spine.

She kicked. First once, then twice. A mo­ment lat­er, her whole body was squirm­ing un­der mine. And then, her cry of plea­sure.

"Aaah­h­h­hh—!"

Melin­da did not shriek, nor did she moan. Her cli­max was bliss, an ex­plo­sion played in re­verse, a ca­coph­o­ny of so many dif­fer­ent sounds of fe­male ex­cite­ment that grad­u­al­ly co­a­lesced into a sin­gle, long drawl of sul­try, breathy, sex­u­al re­lease. Her whole body ground against mine, coax­ing the arousal back out of me, and I re­leased my grasp on her body to let my tongue fall to her bo­som, then to her stom­ach, and fi­nal­ly to her slick cunts. My eyes rolled back ever so slight­ly as I tast­ed her af­ter what felt like an eter­ni­ty. She just cooed and mur­mured an in­co­her­ent sigh of ap­proval.

We lay there for a while. I slow­ly plea­sured her, and she just smiled back at me. She shiv­ered when­ev­er I touched a sen­si­tive spot. It was some­how in­cred­i­bly in­ti­mate, a deeply per­son­al form of non­ver­bal com­mu­ni­ca­tion, a mu­tu­al ex­pres­sion of love, re­spect, and un­bound­ed ap­pre­ci­a­tion. We let our­selves ex­pe­ri­ence it as the min­utes ticked by. Even­tu­al­ly, I felt it come to a close.

I looked up and her and smiled weak­ly.

She just laughed a sin­gle, prac­ti­cal­ly in­audi­ble laugh. "You're such a whore," she gig­gled.

I didn't re­ply.

"C'mere."

I crawled back up to her side and peered into her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around me and looked back at me with an ex­pres­sion of noth­ing but ap­pre­ci­a­tion. "You're so tense."

At that, I re­laxed, let­ting her take me into her cud­dling em­brace. She ran her fin­gers through my long, thin hair, un­tan­gling the mat­ted knots that had re­sult­ed from our play. Af­ter a few min­utes of just hold­ing each oth­er, she spoke.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

"Each oth­er." It was all I could say in the mo­ment, but it was enough. She un­der­stood, and she nod­ded soft­ly.

"How was your day?"

"It was rough. But it isn't any­more."

She stared down at my head, nes­tled be­tween her up­per four boobs. "You're al­ready ready to go again, aren't you?"

I just grinned sheep­ish­ly.

"Good, I am, too. But let me get the toys this time," she said with a smirk. She del­i­cate­ly pulled her­self out from un­der me and swung her­self off the bed. She bent down to open a draw­er, her cute lit­tle butt point­ed straight at my face, her drip­ping pussies vis­i­ble be­tween her legs. She knew what she was do­ing. And yet, I couldn't help but gig­gle with a hand be­tween my legs.

"Every sin­gle time," I mur­mured as I glanced at the clock. It was go­ing to be a fun night.