Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling by WendyTrilby,WendyTrilby

This is the second installment in the anthology series entitled PORTMANTEAU.

Each episode of Portmanteau is a collection of three stand-alone erotic short stories all loosely associated with each other.

If you are new to this series, you’ll be pleased to know there is no specific starting place. The episodes can be read in any order without confusion.

A portmanteau story opens with a vignette from one of the stories, then begins the first story, pauses at its midpoint, tells a second story, then a third, then returns to the first story to complete it.

Each narrative does its best to world build before getting intimate to give context to the passion. If you’re looking for it to get hot, trust me, it will.

I’ve posted this series under erotic couplings because that category covers the overall gist of the three adventures, however each story within the episode is uniquely different and could at times be categorized as something else.

Whatever your “thing” is when it comes to erotica, the Portmanteau series will probably cover it over the course of 12 episodes.

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PORTMANTEAU – EPISODE 2: MORE THAN A FEELING

LONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS (Erotic Couplings)

A former model comes to Boston to start her life as a novelist but is tasked with writing erotica to pay the bills.

DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER (Lesbian Sex)

A robbery at an auction house turns into a hostage situation in a nearby hair salon with interesting consequences.

SISTER GOLDEN HAIR (First Time)

A nun comes to the realization that she has free will to do as she wants and allows herself to feel sexually desirable for the first time leading to a life changing epiphany.

TAGS: Anal Sex, Lesbian, 3-Way, First Time, Blowjob, Shaving, Hairy Pussy, MILF, Mature, Swallowing, Fisting, First Time, Nipples, Romantic, Virgin

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PORTMANTEAU – EPISODE 2: MORE THAN A FEELING

I’M ON FIRE (A Vignette)LONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS: Part 1DIAMONDS ARE FOREVERSISTER GOLDEN HAIRLONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS: Part 2________________________________________________________________

I’M ON FIRE (A Vignette)

Colin arrived in Boston and set up his on-the-go office in the Ritz Carlton then headed to Tufts University to guest lecture. He had dinner plans with Mayla for later that night and found himself distracted in anticipation of their meeting in person for the first time.

He finished reading her latest pages on the flight and was astounded by her ability to craft erotica. Unbridled and animalistic, her writing was the opposite of the meandering non-erogenous drivel of Monique Labelle. Mayla’s work held pure passion and pure passion sold books.

Colin was on a lecture hall stage being interviewed by a professor about publishing, how to write your first novel and the future of the print medium. When asked his thoughts on publishing erotic work, Colin replied, “Good question, Mayla.” The interviewing Professor stopped and asked him who Mayla was.

Catching himself Colin apologized and rephrased the statement to say, “Good question Professor Matalin.”

In the darkness of the lecture hall, Mayla reacted at hearing her name uttered as a Freudian slip. She blushed and looked around as if all eyes were on her.

The lecture ended and Colin was saying a few goodbyes when he spotted an attractive tall woman walking into view. She was wearing a long cool black dress with a sleeveless top showing off well-toned arms. She had a youthful glow making it difficult to guess her age.

“Mayla!”

“Hello, Colin.”

“You came to my lecture, I’m delighted,” the handsome publisher said.

“I thought I could learn something, and I did. You missed your calling as a teacher.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. Zoom meetings can only tell so much. You’re so much more-”

“Taller,” she said finishing his thought.

“Well, yes. But I knew you had been a model so no surprise there.”

“You’re not one of those guys who have issues with tall girls?”

“Never,” Colin stated, “we still on for dinner or do you have plans?”

“I think I can make some time,” she replied bringing a smile to Colin’s face.

Dinner was in a small Italian place in Boston’s North End. Plates of pappardelle and two empty bottles of chianti set the relaxed tone.

“I’ve never seen someone as fit as you eat an entire plate of pasta,” Colin remarked.

“In my runway days, never, but the waif look is long behind me. My ex, he wanted me to stay sickly thin. It was strange, but so was he.”

“Divorced?”

“Never married. We were together for 15 years. I was doing catalogue and runway work in Los Angeles, and he promised me more. But it came at a price. And it got weird.

“Weird?” Colin asked.

“Very weird. He became obsessed with my left nipple.”

“We can change the subject,” Colin offered.

“No, it’s in the past,” she replied.

“Ok, I don’t mean to be forward, but you can’t introduce something about a left nipple and then walk away from the conversation.”

“My left nipple never gets hard. Never erect, never pert, never sassy, none of the nipple adjectives,” Mayla said without fear of embarrassment.

“But your right one does?”

“Yes, running, massage, touch, sex, that nipple knows when and how to do its job. Damned good soldier. But lefty, total slacker almost cost me a career.”

“Because-,” Colin asked.

“Erect nipples are a requirement when modeling. Photographers want nipple erections. I’m holding a tub of butter and my nipples need to be perky. Print ad for Coke – make sure my nipples are hard because God knows soda makes a girl horny,” she said with a bit of disdain for her past career.

“But you worked for years. How did you compensate?” Colin asked.

“Fake nipples. Nowadays you can order them off Amazon. Back then I had to get them from a trans sex shop in Hollywood. Just glued them on and I was the girl with the great nips. Kept me booked year after year.”

“Just so you know if a cold breeze comes through the room, I’m going to be casually checking your right breast for a reaction,” Colin said with a laugh, “trying to not catch a look would be an exercise in futility.”

“I’ll save you the time,” Mayla said as she reached into her water glass and took out a few ice cubes.

Leaning back just a bit so her round full breasts filled out her blouse, she ran the ice cubes across the back of her neck. Colin watched confused until he noticed the skin on her arm goosebump and then the right nipple began to engorge creating a small tent in her blouse. From its growth Colin could tell it was large. His eyes shifted to her left breast and — nothing.

“Gunnar tried everything to make that left nipple rise and shine. He’s German so we went down some rather odd rabbit holes. But it never happened.”

“You left him over your nipple?”

“Not the nipple, but his obsessive quest to excite it. Kept him up nights. He felt challenged, even threatened. Accused me of doing it on purpose. He then tried every kink. I never did anything I didn’t want to do. But I did a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I would. On the positive side, those years with that debauched German gave me more raw material than your smut book can hold.”

“With all that source material maybe, we make it a series,” he suggested.

“It’s going to be an anthology,” she replied. “A series of stories about the sexual trysts of different people in each chapter. But there’s subtext, all the narratives will have subtle links between stories. Sometimes a location, sometimes a person. I’m trying to universe build,” she said proudly.

“Sounds like much more than we are paying you for,” Colin said, impressed.

“I can’t just write about people fucking. There must be more to it. You want fucking, just Google the word then cut and paste.”

“I want passionate sex, the kind with two people making a connection,” Colin whispered, “an erotic coupling. It’s what I want. I mean it’s what Simon and Schuster wants.”

Mayla blushed unsure of the context of the answer. It seemed he was speaking as Colin, the attractive man sitting across from her, but then caught himself and spoke as her editor, making sure her writing could sell books.

“So how much left to write?” he asked.

“I’m down to one last couple. A man and a woman. I’m open to kink, but this encounter is more about these two being drawn together by outside circumstances. I want their sex to be a personal connection.”

“They live in the same building.” Colin suggested.

“Too easy,” Mayla responded.

“They dated in college and run into each other by chance,” he offered.

“No, this has to be their first sexual encounter,” she explained.

“Blind date?”

“Not enough of a character arc,” Mayla said getting a little frustrated with herself and with the lack of a story direction.

“They work together!” Colin offered with excitement.

“Yeah, it could work. They spend time at work. They flirt. They want each other but office decorum says no,” Mayla exclaimed with growing excitement.

“”I’m on fire!” Colin said with enthusiasm. “Ok, so they have a sexual tension, and it keeps building. They’ve been teasing each other too long. But when they connect, it becomes carnal.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Carnal, but not a one and done. We want the readers to know this is just the first connection. I want this girl to be someone the reader wants to touch and feel, even be inside. I want the guy to be a man the male readers want to be and the female readers want to be with. Maybe he’s like you, handsome and professional,” she said unfiltered.

There was a moment of awkward silence after Mayla’s wine induced proclamation.

“I aaaaah, wow, this wine is really good!” she said with a panicked laugh hoping looking for anything to change the conversation.

“Wow! We’re on a roll, but they want the table. Any suggestions where we can take this meeting?” Colin said as he paid the check.

Inside Mayla’s apartment Woody the cat was sitting on the counter licking his paws when the door burst open. Mayla and Colin nearly fell into the room wrapped in passionate kissing and groping which had begun at the front door and fumbled its way up to her third-floor apartment.

Mayla kicked the door shut as Colin pressed her against the wall with a deep open-mouthed kiss then pushed her back putting her hands up in a surrender position. In a swift move he lifted her sleeveless top off revealing her breasts suspended in a revealing white lace bra. Her right nipple sharp and excited, her left nipple dormant.

Colin began to kiss her breasts over her bra causing them to swell. Mayla undid the front clasp, the bra opened, and her breasts spilled out free. Colin moved in with his tongue as she arched her back in pleasure.

Hours later Colin woke still naked as the morning sun crested over the Charles River and illuminated Mayla’s bedroom. He was alone in bed…

LONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS: Part 1

The skies over Boston were clear for a fall morning, but the air was cold as Mayla finished her run along the Charles River finally walking the last few hundred yards to her Bay State Road brownstone. Despite a four-mile run, she stayed chilled wearing only tight black yoga pants and a thermal long sleeved T shirt.

Heading up the stoop to the building front door, Mr. Tuxil was leaving and politely held the door open. He tended to leer, and Mayla knew her skintight yoga pants showed every detail of her tall lean body and if you got the right angle, every fold as well. Mr. Tuxil looked her up and down lingering on her right breast which had a pronounced nipple erection from the run. Her left nipple, not even a goosebump.

Woody met her at the door. He was a cat who came with the apartment. She was his sixth owner in ten years and his right to live there was in her lease.

Mayla sat down at the computer to review the morning’s emails. She had been in Boston for almost six months since leaving Gunnar. She had completed a novel and sent it out to several publishers and so far, nothing. Lots of nothing.

But today might be different as she noticed an email from Colin Gregory of Simon and Schuster Publishing. Crossing her fingers, she pressed the key and read the note.

Colin was an editor at the prestigious publishing house working mostly in science fiction. His note went on to say he had been given her manuscript by a fellow editor. The manuscript entitled Headed to Hollywood, Stuck in Van Nuys, was a dark story of a girl escaping her miserable life in Missouri and heading to California during the depression to become an actress. While it was a work of fiction, the events her all too real to Mayla.

This had been her life and so far, no one seemed to care. Colin mentioned in his email how much he loved the work and would she mind setting up a Zoom call very soon.

Setting up the Zoom call for after lunch, she stripped herself of her sweaty running gear and ran a hot shower. In the bathroom mirror she got a look at herself. No longer in her thirties, she remained fresh faced and beautiful. Between yoga and running she maintained a perfect shape and no one who didn’t know could guess her true age. Her dirty blond hair was shoulder length, but it might be time to cut it shorter making it more manageable.

Attractive as she was, it had been a while since she had a date and more than a year since she walked out on Gunnar and his continued circus of insanity.

Mayla dressed comfy for the zoom call. After all she was a writer, no need to be formal. She put on a tank top cami, no bra and a form fitting gray turtleneck sweater which clung to her figure. It offered a ‘walking on a new England beach in the fall’ look. Her breasts were not large, but they were natural and remained firm. The thickness of the sweater would hide the pesky right nipple which tended to give away her excitement. Gotta play this cool, she thought to herself.

Colin was prompt and the Zoom call started on time. Mayla set her laptop so Colin could see the windows to her porch and the view of the Charles River behind her. The apartment was a rent-controlled steal, and she love showing it off when she could.

Colin came on screen in his office. He was handsome, sporting a jacket and tie and appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Mayla was always a little put off when working with someone younger than her. Did he have enough life experience to guide her? She knew she was getting ahead of herself. This was just a general meeting.

Colin introduced himself and brought Mayla up to speed. He was a native New Yorker, happy to be working in Manhattan but he had gone to school in Boston, majoring in English Lit at Boston University. He recognized the view from Mayla’s apartment having lived nearby during his college years.

“Your manuscript was sitting in my colleague’s in box for at least a month. I would see it every time I passed by and the title just called to me. I cover science fiction, which when its good, it’s great, but usually it’s awful and I needed something with less alien tentacle sex.”

“Alien tentacle sex?” she asked.

“It’s weird and apparently it a category in sci fi, erotica and porn. Anyway, I grabbed your book for a weekend read and loved it. The characters had me at page one and I could not put it down.”

Mayla blushed at the compliments. It was wonderful to hear someone offering praise when most people offer unfounded criticisms. Deep under her sweater her right nipple stiffened, but the heavy fabric kept it in control not revealing her excitement.

Colin continued but Mayla could see this praise was coming to a ‘but’ and then it arrived.

“I brought it to my boss and the decision team but-”

Rejection, Mayla thought. Here it comes.

“-they don’t see a place for it on our plate right now. Everyone agrees your work is outstanding, but they want you more seasoned.”

“I’m writing a new book, but I think it’s going to be months before it’s ready,” she replied.

“Here’s the short and long. I think we can get this published next year. I really do. But I don’t want to risk losing you to another publisher.”

Mayla laughed, imagining all these other imaginary publishers lined up at her door.

“So, I want to option the book for a year. It won’t be much money, but it’s an act of good faith.”

“You’re asking to rent my story for very little money. I appreciate the love, but I’ve got bills to pay.”

“Hold on, hold on, I get it. An option isn’t great. But in the meantime, we want to hire you to ghost rewrite a novel by Monique Labelle.”

“Monique Labelle the porn star?” Mayla asked.

“Monique Labelle the ex-porn star. She has a huge name, a massive following online and we contracted with her to write an erotic story, kind of our version of 50 Shades, only this one coming from a pro. She wrote it and it reads like a porn movie. A really bad porn movie. The pizza delivery guy kind.”

“You want me to write a porn novel?” she asked flatly.

“Rewrite a porn novel and turn it into erotica. The sex in your book is real, raw, emotional. You may be too close your work to see it, but the way you describe two people making love, it is the best erotic writing I’ve seen in years.”

“I don’t know,” Mayla replied.

“We will pay you $150,000 to ghost rewrite this. You fix this novel, we publish and then next year, your novel will be up for purchase and publish.”

Mayla’s face revealed her uncertainty at the offer.

“I’ve taken the liberty to send you the galleys. You read it, see if you can fix it. If you can come to terms with the job, you will be a professional novelist by the end of the day.”

The Zoom call ended with a promise from Mayla to follow up. A few minutes later the email came in with a secure link to the Simon and Schuster property along with a non-disclosure agreement.

Mayla sat with Woody on her lap and dove into to the galley pages on her iPad. The dive in was like jumping into a shallow pool. After only a few lines she felt the thud of a poorly thought leap. Written in the first person, the story was about a traveling masseuse who dreams of being a rock star while seducing everyone because of an undefined insatiable lust disease.

Two hours later Mayla put down the iPad with pages left to be read. Texting Colin she wrote I’ll take the job so long as I have freedom to go where I want.

Seconds later Colin replied with a smiley face emoji. Your story. All we care about is getting this book to print while LaBelle still has name cache. Our financial people will be in touch. Congratulations to Simon and Schuster’s newest author!

Mayla finished the book and came to the realization that not once in the entire read did she find herself titillated or erotically aroused in any way. The following day she sat down at her laptop and prepared to write. For starters, she re-read the first passage of the book.

Last night I learned when all your holes are filled, it’s kind of hard to breathe. There I was in the back of a van bound for Los Angeles getting railed in my asshole, mouth and cunt and loving every inch of rabid man meat pumping hot jizz into me.

Hot jizz? Oh my God, Mayla thought. Who even says jizz anymore. Every page read like it was written by a horny teenager. Each sentence began with “I” and the dialogue was unintentionally funny like when the heroine tells the bouncer at the club to ‘bang his balls against her beaver.’

Nope. Done for the day Mayla decided and headed out to walk around Boston to think.

She found herself on Newbury Street, a trendy shopping area with upscale stores and salons. Passing by a hair salon called Sheer Madness which sat at basement level. She went down the steps hoping to be able to get a walk-in appointment.

There were a few women in chairs getting cuts and colors as Mayla asked the front desk girl if she could get her hair done. As it turns out Kayleigh Coleman, just had a cancellation and was willing to put her in the chair.

Kayleigh was an adorable bundle of energy. Short hair, round face, and gorgeous plump lips. She wore psychedelic leggings and a loose top which offered a glimpse of her black demi bra whenever she would lean over, which was often.

More than once, Mayla caught herself peeking. Was Kayleigh doing this on purpose?

Mayla asked for her hair to be cut shorter than its current shoulder length. Not a bob, not as short as Kayleigh’s but short enough to just scrunch up and go.

Kayleigh carried on about her new girlfriend who happened to be her classmate in high school although they didn’t really spend time together back then.

Mayla was delighted by the sexual freedom of this young Irish Catholic firecracker who despite having been brought up never missing church on Sunday, found her sexual identity and had no issue sharing it.

Kayleigh’s dream was to someday own a salon of her own and was saving every penny toward her goal. Mayla made sure to leave her a large tip and emerged feeling refreshed, rejuvenated and a bit sexier than before she entered.

Randomly walking through the city, she was enjoying her time away from the laptop and the pressure of polishing a steaming pile of crap when she spotted the Elizabeth Gardner Museum and decided to take in an afternoon of intellectual stimulation.

Being a weekday, the museum was mostly empty as Mayla wandered the galleries. Despite this, security was heavy as the Gardner Museum had been the victim of the largest art theft in US history in the 1980s.

She was taken by a large oil painting by Titan of a pale skinned nude woman reclining on an off-white-colored bed. This was the Princess Danae, locked in a tower by her father only to be seduced by Zeus who was approaching her in a cloud of gold.

Mayla sat and gazed then turned to notice another woman sitting on the bench. She was a stunning redhead wearing a black leather coat. Her skin was alabaster white and she held a sketch pad in her hands and a charcoal pencil. She was painstakingly sketching not only the painting, but the entire gallery of artwork.

Mayla was spellbound by this radiant young woman and strained to see her sketching.

“Beautiful,” Mayla said, breaking the ice.

The stunning redhead responded, “I find it to be sexual and wanting. It’s an incredible representation of the humanity of the woman, of the fleshiness of the body.”

Mayla was now transfixed on the mysterious woman who kept sketching.

Looking down at her phone, she saw a text from Colin asking her to call. She exited the building.

“So, how’s my smut book coming along?”

“Not better. I’m looking for a new way to approach. I’m out gathering characters.”

“You’re procrastinating.”

“What? No. I like to people watch.”

“I’m just messing with you. I was calling because I was giving your novel another read. Forgive me if I get personal, but Christa, in the book. She’s you, isn’t she?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“She comes to Los Angeles to be an actress,” Colin continued.

“I came to be a model.”

“She meets a powerful movie director.”

“I met a photographer. European debonair type named Gunnar. I upgraded him to a movie director for the book.”

“He treats her like property. Trades her for favors and his success,” Colin continued.

Mayla didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry. I’m prying. It’s just your descriptions are so vivid they feel drawn from experience. I guess what I want to say is, do you really want to publish this story. It’s so personal.”

Mayla smiled.

“It’s been read by everyone I know and here you are, pretty much a stranger and you’ve decoded it already.”

“It’s powerful. The girl in the story, she reminds me of Marylin Monroe. Every man loves her, every man thinks they are the one who could have saved her. None of them can. Don’t you think there has to be someone who can save her? A Prince Charming?”

“So far no Prince Charmings, so no, she doesn’t get saved.”

Colin felt the need to retreat.

“If you don’t mind the extra work, I would love to keep discussing the novel so we can get it ready to show upstairs when you finish Fuckfest-o-rama.”

“Oh, such a good title for the Monique porn book,” Mayla said facetiously. “I’ve got some good thoughts on Fuckfest-o-rama so how about we Zoom tomorrow, and I can run them by you.”

“Deal. I’m putting in on my calendar, Fuckfest, say 9:00 AM?”

Mayla finished her morning run with enough time to shower before her Zoom with Colin. Out of the shower and wrapped in a tiny towel she tore her closet apart looking for the perfect outfit.

She laid out three tops, with varying degrees of sexiness choosing a sleek silk blouse in platinum grey and opted for no bra. She did a quick run into the bathroom for a little makeup. Once a model, always a model, she thought as she applied eyeliner then ruffled her new hairdo to make it look a little unkept in an attractive way.

It was now two minutes to 9 and she knew how punctual Colin was.

Looking at a pair of pants, she realized the slacks did not matter since this was a Zoom and no one could see below her untucked blouse.

The computer chimed and Colin came on screen. Mayla maneuvered to a bench in her bedroom allowing natural light to spill upon her.

“Wow, you changed your hair. It looks great,” Colin began.

Mayla blushed at the compliment which caused parts unseen to swell just a bit.

“Thank you, I found the best hair stylist by chance. I feel like I can make her into a character for one of my stories.

“Mayla, before we continue, can I ask you to move your laptop.”

Mayla was confused by the request.

“There’s a mirror behind you and it wouldn’t be right not to let you know.”

Mayla clicked on her laptop to see what Colin was seeing. There she was looking cute as anything on camera and then she noticed, the standing mirror in the shot behind her was reflecting a perfect view of her bare ass. It was anyone’s worst Zoom nightmare come true.

With a click she muted the screen, moved the mirror, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants then returned to the screen red-faced.

“Ok, so embarrassing.”

“I think this is the part where I make a joke and the two of us end up talking to Janice in HR,” Colin offered. “I would show you my ass, but it might not suffice. So, I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me then we’re even.”

“You don’t have to,” Maya insisted, wishing they would move on.

“I was with my ex-girlfriend and butt dialed my mother.”

“Oh, I do that all the time,” Mayla replied.

“No, I sat my naked ass on my phone during a moment that could easily be a scene from a porn movie and literally butt dialed a facetime call with my mom,” Colin said with a little bit of pride. “And she picked up.”

“Wow. You win. In fact, I’m glad you got a glimpse of my butt in exchange for that pearl,” Mayla said with a snorting laugh.

The conversation between the two never turned to editing Mayla’s novel or the ghost-writing project. Instead, they spent almost two hours trading stories, telling about their likes and dislikes and even twenty minutes building a list of defunct breakfast cereals they wished were still on the shelves. The two agreed to try and Zoom again in two days with the promise they would get some real work done during their next meeting.

Mayla sat down once again to work on the smut book but every time she got a start, she would backspace it out. Time for another Boston walkabout.

Hours later she sat sipping her third coffee of the day on the steps of St. Cecelia’s Cathedral when she saw a young nun standing on the steps of the catholic high school across the street.

She wasn’t dressed as a nun, in fact she wore jeans and a Red Sox sweatshirt, but she held a rosary in her hand and was carefully folding a nun’s veil then placing it into her luggage.

A car with a Maine license plate arrived and the young woman, who could not have been more than 25 was about to get in, when a student came out of the school and gave her a present and a hug. She gave the student her rosary, climbed in the car and was gone. Who was she? Why did she go? Where did she go? Who did she leave behind? Was this a happily ever after moment or something sad? The writer in her imagined numerous scenarios.

She drank the last sips of her coffee when the epiphany hit. The erotic story was all around her, everywhere she looked. It was in the real people she saw every day. It was the secret moments, the ones you don’t share. It was like connecting the dots to see the hidden image. She needed to get home and start writing.

Hours later, she was typing madly, the stories flowing from her mind. Drinking one espresso after another she was pumped full of adrenaline, ready to write when she smacked into a creative wall.

This part of the story called for a first-time encounter for three people, a man and two women. Each a bit awkward, each unsure of their orientation.

Mayla had been with a woman before, no mystery there. She had been with two men before, no mystery either, but never herself, a man, and another woman.

Choosing to give her eyes a rest, she stopped writing and hit a Google search for MFF three way. The results were endless giving her every variation imaginable. She just needed a little inspiration and scrolled looking for three people who fit the descriptions she had built in her mind.

She landed on First Time MFF Threesome! It was practically made to order. The video was amateur at best, but that’s what Mayla wanted, real people, not botoxed porn queens with bad boob jobs.

The video wasted no time with two attractive twenty somethings going at it on a leather couch. A dark brunette was approaching the perfectly shaved vagina of her reclined partner while the male in the room worked the camera.

The brunette hovered over the sandy brown haired girl’s pussy admiring its perfect look. Diving in with a pointed tongue, the brunette kept her eyes on her partner, coming up only to say, “you taste delicious.”

Pancaking her tongue, she gave long licks. The brunette then took her fingers and spread her partners labia minora lips wide for better access. Seconds later via horrible editing, the brunette was on the couch and the sandy blonde was going down on her sliding a middle finger in and out of her slit while chasing her fleeting clitoris with her tongue. The brunette moaned as her natural young breasts moved back and forth with her body as she rocked from the pleasure.

There was something real about this video. Not once did the women say, oh yeah or fuck yeah, they just moaned and complimented their partner.

The sandy blonde paid special attention to the brunette’s opening giving tiny bites to her partners labia then following with a soothing lick. Adding two fingers to the penetration every sound was picked up by the amateurish cameraman, sounds of moistness and panting.

Another edit and the cameraman was in on the action as he fucked the sandy blond from behind while she was on her knees, her face deep in the folds of the brunette’s pussy. “I’m going to cum really fast,” he said.

How could he not, thought Mayla. These two women were real, they were enjoying the moment and any man with even half an erection would be lucky to last a minute in there. Still, she thought, kudos to this guy for trying to hold on.

The man’s penis was thick, and Mayla assumed it to be large, but the length was hard to see as only the shaft was seen sliding in and out of the sandy blonde’s vagina.

As if acting on its own Mayla’s right hand crept down her stomach under her sweatpants and began massaging herself over her mesh panties. Her hand worked slow and rhythmically, and it was only until she slipped her finger into her watering slit Mayla became aware of what she was doing. With a smile she continued viewing the video while tantalizing her clit with her long fingers.

Another bad edit and now the brunette was on her back, the sandy blonde was above licking her breasts and the guy was balls deep into the brunette’s pussy. Mayla brought her fingers out of her pants, up to her mouth and gave them a lick to bring even more moisture to herself.

On the laptop the bad camera work finally showed the man. Strong physique, slightly shaven face, he was handsome and reminded Mayla of Colin.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her imagination to bring her into the video. She was the one getting fucked, the sandy blond was licking her breasts. She looked up at the man who was deep inside her, it was Colin. He smiled passionately as he gently pushed his cock deep insider her and held it there. She could feel the walls of her pussy contract and grip his cock creating a suction pleasurable to them both.

Mayla’s eyes were closed but she could hear the moaning of the porn video. But inside her fantasy, the other girl was gone, and it was just her and Colin as she opened her legs wider. His kissing grew more and more passionate as their tongues explored each other’s mouths. Mayla could feel the end approaching. A distant tingling in her toes emanated up her legs racing toward the center of her core and then it hit. In her fantasy Colin remained inside her filling her with his heat. On the video the man could be heard blowing his load which auditorily added to Mayla’s fantasy.

She kept her eyes shut, hoping to extend the moment with fantasy Colin, but post orgasm awareness pushed the fantasy into the darkness. She opened her eyes, her body sweating from the self-induced friction only to see the two women in the video snowballing the man’s semen from mouth to mouth. Maybe they were pros after all.

Still breathing hard as she closed the browser then looked down at her sweatpants which were soaked from her own effluence. She could not recall an orgasm as strong or masturbation fantasy as real. Relaxed and feeling euphoric, she closed her eyes to catch some sleep before returning to writing.

Her laptop chimed several times before it woke her up. On screen she could see it was an incoming Zoom call from Colin. It was 1 in the afternoon; she had overslept by several hours.

Answering the Zoom, she shuzzed her hair and sat up in the bed, the MacBook sitting on her lap. She adjusted her v neck T-shirt top but chose to not bother covering the fact she was braless.

“Hey we had an 11 o’clock scheduled,” Colin began.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mayla responded. “I pulled an all nighter and was pretty much dead to the world.”

“That’s my girl, love your work ethic.”

‘My girl,’ Mayla thought momentarily lost in the memory of the fantasy of him penetrating her. She felt her heart race a bit but that was something he couldn’t see. What he could see was her face as it blushed and her left nipple as it stiffened under her thin t-shirt top.

“I’m coming to Boston next week. I’ll be there for a few days,” Colin said.

“Really? Great!” Mayla replied. As the words left her mouth, she knew she sounded overanxious.

“I’m doing a guest lecture at Tufts, but I made time for us to go over some of your material. Also, I thought if you are free, we could have a dinner to officially celebrate the writing of Fuckfest-o-rama.”

Mayla’s excitement about meeting Colin in person was making her heart race faster. Feeling like a teeny bopper, she wanted more than anything to end the Zoom call before she did or said something to truly embarrass herself.

“Oh, God. There’s the door. My door dash is here. So, yeah just text me your itinerary and I’ll try to make time,” she said trailing the sentence trying to indicate her need to disconnect.

“I’ll text. Keep at it kiddo,” he offered.

With the Zoom call ended Mayla took a deep breath of near exhaustion. Laying back she reviewed the conversation while her hand crept down her naval and into her pants once again.

Her writing continued day and night. Colin’s trip to Boston was now just two days away. While the ghostwriting work was unfinished, Mayla felt confident enough to send Colin the work in progress so he could offer some editorial thoughts when they met.

Continued in LONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS – Part II

________________________________________________________________

DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER

Well, that was fucked the dark-haired woman thought to herself as she ran through the doors of Christies Auction House on Boston’s fashionable Newbury Street. No sooner had she exited the building when alarms began to sound. So fucked.

Wearing a black Dolce & Gabbana double breasted trench coach which matched her jet-black hair, she walked fast with purpose toward a parked Tesla. Clicking the remote, the car started up and the gull wing driver’s door opened.

Stick to the plan she thought.

Moments earlier, the 3-minute countdown began when the gun came out. Clockwork. The guards were walking the Red Scarlet to the auction room. Empty hallway. A quick and silent zap with the stun gun. The jolt was a lot, but they needed to stay down.

The box grabbed, opened and the necklace slipped in between her tits now secured in her bra. One minute to go.

A brisk walk to the exit. Too easy. Alarms blared. Shit, they found the guards.

The lobby was chaos as security guards tried to lock the doors. Blending in with the crowd of auction attendees she needed to get to the doors before they locked. She needed a distraction. Pulling the trigger on the tiny Baretta secluded in her right hand, she fired into the floor. The loud report of the gun sent people running and screaming.

“They’ve shot the guards,” she screamed to add to the chaos and then joined the surge of the auction house patrons as they pushed through the doors and outside. Two minutes over budget but since she was about to get in the car, the extra time was a moot point.

It was not.

From around the corner several police cars streamed onto the scene, blue lights flashing. She walked past the Tesla headed for the subway station just a half block ahead. She was just 100 yards from the subway entrance when a squad car pulled up blocking the entry.

Stay cool she repeated in her head. Panic kills.

She looked around at the trendy shops in the area then noticed a chic hair salon, Hannah and Her Scissor Sisters, at the basement level of the fancy brownstone shops. Heading down the stairs away from the action she entered the salon then locked the door behind her.

Kaylin McCardle was swiping left on a dating app cringing at each personality she found when she saw the woman hurry into the salon and lock the door behind her.

“Sorry,” Kaylin said, “we don’t really do walk ins, so you’ll want to call or go online to make an appointment.”

“Close this place for rest of the day. I’ll pay you $1,000 to close it,” the woman said.

“I can’t just…$1,000? You’ll pay me $1,000 to close?” Kaylin asked unsure if she heard right.

The negotiation ended when the woman pulled out a handgun and held it to Kaylin.

“Ok, yeah, sure, we’re closed,” Kaylin stated.

“Move away from the door and windows,” the woman said guiding Kaylin to the back of the salon out of view of the front of the shop.

In the light Kaylin could see her striking features. Sculpted cheekbones and dark glasses set against alabaster skin which contrasted with her long jet-black hair.

As the woman headed to the back Kaylin noticed the blue strobe lights of squad cars through the window that looked up to the sidewalk

“Something going on out there?” Kaylin asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“And here you are with a gun, and I’ll stop talking now,” Kaylin replied.

“Wise idea. I have no problem with you, I just need to lay low and then I’ll go. Get me a garbage bag.”

Kaylin grabbed a garbage bag from the shelf then turned back to see the dangerous stranger had taken off her black leather trench coat revealing a skintight Furstenberg minnie long sleeved cross over ribbed top with a cold shoulder that descended to a V below her breasts offering an eye-popping view of the curvature of her large round breasts. Her black leather leggings outlined the strong legs of an athlete as well as outlining her alluring thigh gap.

The woman stuffed the leather coat in the trash bag.

“I need you to dump this. Burn it if you can.”

“That’s like a ten-thousand-dollar D&G coat. It’s wicked nice,” Kaylin protested, “I can’t just chuck it.”

“Keep it, but you may not want to wear it around for a while.”

“Oh my God, did you rob a bank wearing this? Oh, wow.”

A loud rapping on the shop door startled the two. The dark-haired woman grew concerned and paced like an animal trapped.

Kaylin looked at the security camera monitor and could see two officers at the door.

“Is there a back way out?” the dark-haired woman asked.

“There is, but the cops are back there too.” Kaylin pointed to the security camera monitor that showed a squad car bocking the back alley.

“You serious about the $1,000?”

“Yes.”

“Make it $3,000 and I’ll get rid of them.”

“Deal.”

“Sit in the first chair,” Kaylin said as she guided her unexpected guest to the chair furthest from the door.

Covering her with a cloth she quickly reclined the chair and smeared thick cream on her face then grabbed a wig off a shelf and wrapped a towel around her head.

The police kept rapping on the door. Kaylin ran to the front and unlocked it letting them in.

“Were you knocking? I had the hair dryer on back there. What’s going on?” she said with childlike innocence.

“Robbery at Christies. We think the thief is still around.”

“Who is Christy?” Kaylin asked.

“Christies the auction house. You see anyone? Suspect is a woman in a black coat, black hair and dark glasses,” the cop asked trying to look past Kaylin.

“No, I’ve been with a client so, no.”

“Mind if we come in?” the older cop asked not waiting for permission to enter.

The front of the shop wasn’t big with just 6 chairs. All were empty except for the last chair where the woman in question lay reclined with cold cream on her face and a towel around her head.

Kaylin tapped her on the shoulder, and she pretend to wake up from dozing off.

“Oh dear. I think I was asleep. What time is it?”

“How long have you been here Ma’am?” the cop asked.

“My appointment was for 4PM, so I guess more than an hour? What’s going on?”

“Armed robbery down the street. Thief made off with some jewelry. A necklace, I think. Worth millions.”

Kaylin dropped a tray of brushes upon hearing the figure getting the officers attention. The woman shot her a nasty look that said play it cool.

“Are we safe in here? Should we leave?” the thief asked.

“We would prefer you remain here for a while until we’re done with our canvas. Odds are the perp is gone but let us do our job.”

The cops moved to the door with the older cop stopping and turning back to look at Kaylin and her client.

“Do you mind taking off that towel so I could see her hair?” the cop asked.

“My hair? It’s a mess,” the thief said with reluctance.

A bead of sweat trickled down Kaylin’s neck as she ever so carefully removed the towel to reveal a mop of wet blond hair.

“Sorry for that. The woman we’re looking for has black hair. Just making sure.”

With that the cops left, and Kaylin quickly locked the doors behind them.

Turning back to the mysterious woman, Kaylin was flushed. Her heart racing, she never felt more invigorated in her life. She wasn’t a rule breaker and never lied to a cop before, but now she was harboring a fugitive and it was the most exciting moment of her existence.

“Be careful, that thrill can turn into a drug,” the thief said.

“What thrill?”

The woman pointed to Kaylin’s tight top and the fact that her nipples were firm and erect.

“Trust me, the nips don’t lie. When I’m taking a score, you could cut glass with my nipples,” she said. “This is my drug; I don’t suggest it for you.”

“I could rob banks. All you have to do is wave a gun,” Kaylin stated in defiance.

The thief sat up and wiped the cold cream off her face while pulling off the blond wig.

“Well, I guess I can cut and color hair, I just need some Miss Clairol and a scissor,” she replied with attitude.

“No, it’s not that simple.”

“Neither is taking down a score. So, you stick to what you do, and I’ll stick to what I do.”

“Speaking of what I do, why the black hair when you’ve got gorgeous red hair?” Kaylin asked.

“How do you know about my red hair?”

“Girl to girl, whoever does your roots is a hack,” replied Kaylin with professional pride.

“You can do better?”

“Let me color you back to your natural color. I’ve got people from Brookline who pay $500 to get the hair you have under that black shit job. Besides, it wasn’t a redhead who robbed the bank. But this is going to take some time.”

The thief could see some police lights down the street. There was nowhere to go for now.

“I guess I need to kill a few hours anyway.”

“Great, I’ve got some photos of redheads, you just point me to the one that matches your hair the best and I’ll mix up a blend,” Kaylin said.

“I’ll show you a sample,” the thief replied.

“Sure, where?”

Without a word, the thief stood, unbuttoned her leather pants and dropped them to reveal two things. First, she had on no panties and second, she was sporting a well-coiffed full bush of fiery red pubic hair.

Kaylin’s eyes were transfixed on the glorious sight before her. She remained frozen as she processed the view and then three words came to her mind.

She flatly said, “Mary Margaret McCardle.”

The thief’s eyes went wide, and she grabbed her gun pointing it at Kaylin who continued to stare at her pubic mound transfixed.

“What did you say?”

“Mary Margaret McCardle. You’re Mary Margaret McCardle. Saint Magnus High School, like ten years ago. You were a senior when I was a freshman.”

The thief pulled her pants quickly up.

“You looked at my snatch and know who I am?”

“I would never forget that perfect patch of red hair. I helped with the girls’ basketball team. When you guys took showers, I handed out the towels. I had a huge girl crush on you.”

“Who are you?”

“Kaylin Leary, my sister Clare was in your class.”

“Clare’s kid sister? I think I remember you. You had braces, acne, bad hair and no tits.”

“Yeah, well the skin cleared; the hair got better.” Kaylin pointed at her small breasts, “The tits were an A cup back then, I’ve got them up to a B cup, soooo, maybe some tits.”

Mary Margaret took an extra-long look at Kaylin breasts noticing the nipples remained hard as rocks.

“You went to Harvard, now you’re doing armed robbery?” Kaylin asked.

“I Graduated with a degree in Art History and $200,000 in debt,” Mary Margaret remarked.

“Art History, maybe the wrong major,” Kaylin chided.

“Maybe, maybe not. Someday Harvard’s Fogg Museum is going to realize they are missing three Marc Chagall prints. Covered my tuition and a McClaren.”

Mary Margaret looked around at the salon. “So, you’re doing hair in a fancy Newbury Street salon. You own the place? You are going by Hannah these days?”

“Hannah is a dude. He calls us stylists his ‘scissor sisters, so it’s Hannah and her Scissor Sisters.”

“Clever guy,” Mary Margaret remarked.

“I’m saving money to buy the place. Hannah wants to move to Provincetown with his boyfriend but the cost to take over is $300,000 and I’m nowhere close to that.”

A little nervous, Kaylin went to a color chart and began pulling out several red cards. She turned to Mary Margaret.

“Would you mind? Can I get another look?” Kaylin asked timidly.

“Something tells me you could do this from memory. But have at it.”

For the second time Mary Margaret pulled down her pants revealing her perfect womanhood and its wild red mane.

“I’ve always liked a full bush. Shaved pussies are just to please men, make a woman look like a child,” Mary Margaret explained. “Me, I don’t worry about what men want.”

“It’s actually kind of captivating,” Kaylin replied. “I mean, I’ve seen hair on a pussy before, but this one, the red, the womanscaping. I mean, It’s just wow.”

Kaylin got on her knees placing Mary Margaret’s naked pubic region inches from her face and held the cards up to the natural red pubic hair. First one, then another.

She was close enough to smell her musk which was pleasant and inviting. Kaylin’s hand shook a little as she continued with the cards, then focused in on two.

The curls of Mary Margaret’s pubic hair came over the sides of the card. The slit of her vagina was open just a bit and Kaylin could swear she saw a bud of dew forming on her pearly clit.

Nervously she studied the two cards while stealing a glance or two at the red garden that had been part of her self-pleasuring fantasies for years. Realizing she was lingering a bit long she stood up and held the winning card. “Boudica. That’s your color.”

Mary Margaret pulled up her pants. “You done or you want to do some more sightseeing?”

Nervously Kaylin responded, “Oh, yes, sure. No, I got what I needed. I can work with that.”

Mary Margaret sat back in the chair as Kaylin move around collecting items for the hair color session.

“How’s Clare?”

“She’s a lawyer now. A good one, if you ever need one, which, considering your profession, you might. She’s getting married.”

“To a guy?”

“Of course, yes, Jimmy Demarco from school.”

“That guy had a pretty big dick,” Mary Margaret said with a laugh.”

“You slept with Jimmy Demarco?” Kaylin asked a bit shocked.

“No, but I gave him a hand job for his 19th birthday.”

“Why did you question about her marrying a guy?” Kaylin asked.

“I always hoped your sister was batting for my team. Well, a girl can dream,” Mary Margaret replied.

“Well, she doesn’t.”

“But you do,” Mary Margaret said with an all-knowing smile.

“Me? What? How?” Kaylin’s said with faked indignation, then she resigned herself.

“How do you know?”

“The short fingernails. That tells me you are dating and don’t want to give your fling a sting with sharp nails. Not a requirement, but certainly a courtesy. Also…I lifted your phone when you were talking to the cop. You have three lesbian dating apps, all open. Tough times?”

Kaylin got a little heated. “I’m between relationships and I’m not into the bar scene and…why am I explaining this to you? Please stay out of my phone and my personal life.”

Quickly Kaylin reclined the seat so Mary Margaret’s head could rest in the wash basin and began wetting her hair.

“I heard a rumor you did Sister Lady Gaga after senior prom,” Kaylin said.

“Sister Grace? Not after prom, it was senior skip day. She needed some spiritual guidance, and I helped her see the light,” Mary Margaret replied.

“She was hot, even with the nun’s habit on,” Kaylin added.

“You should have seen her without it. Perfect big tits, nipples like pencil erasers and a dark full bush. She tasted like patchouli and jasmine. Damn, I love a full bush.”

“So, I’ve seen.”

“Well from the amount of time you spent sniffing around mine, I assume you do too.”

Kaylin blushed at being called out for her tourist trip through Mary Margaret’s red forest.

“Well, you wouldn’t like mine.”

“Shaved?”

Kaylin nodded.

“Stop trying to please the boys. Please yourself,” the redhead said.

“What exactly did you take from Christies?” Kaylin asked changing the topic.

“A necklace.”

“That’s all? I’ve shoplifted more than a necklace.”

“This is the Red Scarlet. It sold for 5 million in 2012. Rubies and diamonds.”

Mary Margaret smiled and reached into her bra and pulled out the purloined necklace.

Kaylin came close and examined the magnificent item. Its 26 oval-shaped pigeon blood Burmese rubies created a floral effect that made the necklace resemble a lei of flowers.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. What will you do with it?”

“Me? Nothing. But I have people who pay for these things. The perks of joining the international student society at Harvard. Lots of warlords send their kids there.”

Putting the necklace back in her bra Mary Margaret relaxed and Kaylin got down to business. For the next hour they talked about their days at St. Magnus, their classmates and the nuns. For both women it was a trip down memory lane.

The conversation turned to relationships. Mary Margaret admitted to never being penetrated by a man. She had sex with several men, but each time she treated them as a woman, making them perform oral sex on her and then masturbating them with her breasts. At first it was just hesitancy about going all the way, but after a while it was about manipulating men to please herself.

Kaylin had sex with a man after high school. A much older man who commanded her to get on all fours and face the wall as he rode her from behind. She liked the feeling of being penetrated, but then he would turn her around and cum in her mouth, demanding she swallow it. The manipulation and taste were not for her. Men made her feel like cattle.

It was her upstairs neighbor, Beth, who was married to an MIT professor, that showed her the way. He would leave for weeks on research trips and Beth, who didn’t like to be alone, would stay with Kaylin. It was during those overnights that the two began their saffic exploration.

Beth and her husband moved and since that time it was blind dates and app dates.

The intimate conversations passed the time and after two hours the black was gone from Mary Margaret’s hair, and Kaylin was well into painting the red color.

“You hungry? I’ve got half a cold pizza and a few bottles of chardonnay for the suburban moms to sip during a cut,” Kaylin offered.

“Starved. Bring it on.”

Kaylin came out of the back room with a pizza box and two bottles of wine. “We’ve got a Sauvignon Blanc and a Pinot Gris.”

Mary Margaret took the bottle of Blanc, pulled the cork and took a long drag.

“I’ll take the blanc, you get the gris,” she said with a wink and smile.

“Ok, I guess we’re just shotgunning it. So classy.”

Less than an hour later the two bottles lay empty on the counter and two more were half gone.

Mary Margaret’s hair was in the final stages as Kaylin was blowing it out while brushing vigorously. Slowly she turned the chair so Mary Margaret could get her first good look at herself.

The woman in the mirror was unrecognizable as the dark-haired mystery female who entered the shop a few hours earlier. Mary Margaret was taken by her own image. Her perfect alabaster skin was offset by the flaming mane of red hair which tossed and curled in a carnal and animalistic way.

Kaylin stood back with pride. “Now that’s the Mary Margaret I had a crush on.”

Mary Margaret stood and leaned into the mirror, examining the roots, but there were none. Sheer perfection. As natural a redhead as she was years ago and obviously someone she missed dearly.

“I…love…it,” Mary Margaret said with a smile Kaylin then quickly turned to give Kaylin a surprise hug of appreciation.

Kaylin felt the press of Mary Margaret’s body on hers during the embrace and closed her eyes getting lost in a flash fantasy where she and Mary Margaret were entwined together on an exotic beach.

Eyes closed; she licked her lips as the embrace lingered then she felt the soft pressure of lips upon hers. Breaking from her fantasy she opened eyes to see the lips were real and the hug of appreciation from Mary Margaret had evolved into a grasp of passion.

Kaylin responded by opening her mouth just a bit and Mary Margaret took advantage of the invitation gently probing with her tongue then put her two hands on Kaylin’s face keeping her close as their gentle kiss became more impassioned.

Kaylin’s lips were naturally thick and plump which often gave the appearance of pouting. Mary Margaret moved her tongue along Kaylin’s lower lip suckling it like a nipple and sending tingling waves through Kaylin’s body.

The redhead then stopped and pulled back saying, “I’m sorry, I’m just tipsy is all and I didn’t mean to…”

Kaylin looked at the red-haired goddess then pushed in for another deep kiss. This was a window of opportunity she had no intention of letting close.

Mary Margaret’s body reeled in anticipation when the younger woman pushed their lips together.

Her back to the cutting station and mirrors, Mary Margaret took a step back and undid the buttons of her pants once again lowering them, but this time taking them all the way off. In the glow of the soft lights Kaylin could see how perfectly her hair color job compared to the natural colors of the moist and glistening red curls of her pubic mound.

Sitting herself on the salon tabletop Mary Margaret spread her legs open. Her inflamed labia was red as the tight red pubic curls that adorned it. Her legs opened like a curtain before a movie revealing her moist pussy lips. A bit of her secretions dripped down the bottom of entrance and pooled on to the counter.

Kaylin needed no further invitation and dropped to her knees placing Mary Margaret’s red pleasure directly in her face. The first taste of the scarlet pussy was a passionate desire she had since high school, one that kept her lost in wet daydreams from afar. As her tongue creased the intense heat of Mary Margaret’s opening, she was now into the stuff of her dreams. Dreams of which used to make her wake up soaked in sweat and her panties painted in passion wetness.

Mary Margaret’s head went back as Kaylin began to work her clit with her tongue. Placing a hand on the back of Kaylin’s head Mary Margaret pulled the younger woman’s face against her opening reeling from the pressure it put on her nerve endings.

Kaylin introduced two fingers, still working her tongue around the vulva. She slid the fingers into Mary Margaret’s pussy and curled them upward looking, then finding, the soft sponginess of her G spot. Kneading it slowly at first, she increased tempo.

Keeping her fingers working inside Mary Margaret, she rose and hovered close to her face. The redhead could smell herself on Kaylin’s face and began to greedily lick her juices off with her wide tongue.

Mary Margaret pulled aggressively at Kaylin’s top causing her nipples to strain against the sheer cloth. With an insistent second tug, the top tore open revealing Kaylin’s small breasts.

“That was an expensive top.”

“Put it on my tab,” Mary Margaret said.

She then attacked Kaylin’s nipples with the ferocity and delicateness only a woman could understand and provide.

Circling each areola then capturing each long nipple in her teeth, the suction Mary Margaret provided caused both nipples to engorge and the tips to dimple. Kaylin opened her eyes to at herself in the three mirrors that surrounded the station. The mirror behind Mary Margaret showed the heart shape of her bare ass as it flared outward.

Kaylin leaned back with a purpose so Mary Margaret would have to lean into her to keep suckling her breasts. Leaning forward caused the redhead’s ass to rise and flare a bit more revealing her rose red pucker which was pulsing from the sensation.

Mary Margaret took the lead by standing and taking Kaylin’s hand guiding her to a plush couch nearby. Standing and facing each other, Kaylin was topless, and Mary Margaret was bottomless, and both realized that would need to change.

Kaylin pulled down her skintight yoga pants to reveal a pink thong. Mary Margaret slipped her red top off presenting her large breasts supported by a lace mesh bra that mashed against her nipples trying to keep them flat with little success.

“Wait,” Mary Margaret stated. Kaylin was confused.

Mary Margaret undid her bra causing her large breasts to fall free. The Red Scarlet necklace fell out and she caught it in her hand.

Opening the clasp, she placed it around Kaylin’s neck and secured it. Kaylin admired herself and the jewels in the mirror.

“Let’s see how rich people fuck,” Mary Margaret said as she slid her hand into Kaylin’s thong to find her hairless pussy soaked and waiting. Her fingers glided inside the younger woman with a silken caress then forcibly upward almost lifting Kaylin off the ground.

Kaylin’s knees buckled a bit at the sensation. She grasped Mary Margaret’s arm moving it up and down a bit. Mary Margaret took the initiative to add a third finger and the tip of her thumb and stretch the walls of Kaylin’s pussy until she groaned with pleasure and the redhead continued to work her as her clit swelled and her wetness flowed.

“Let me taste it,” Kaylin whispered.

Mary Margaret complied taking her glistening fingers from within Kaylin and holding them up to her face. Kaylin began to lick her own essence off Mary Margaret’s fingers pulling the redhead in close to do the same. As they tongue bathed Mary Margaret’s fingers, the two met in a deep kiss.

Kaylin placed her hands on Mary Margaret’s large breasts kneading them lightly. Kaylin planted her mouth over Mary Margaret’s left breast and began to circle her nipple. Immediately Kaylin realized these were the softest breasts she had ever encountered. Like pillows filled with down, these breasts practically melted in her mouth.

Grabbing a handful of Kaylin’s thong, Mary Margaret ripped it free revealing Kaylin’s perfectly shaven pussy shimmering with moisture. Kaylin’s pussy lips were pronounced, and the edges were dark purple in darkness, almost black. Set against her soft white skin, the dark edges of her labia perfectly outlined the entry to her vagina.

Mary Margaret backed up then sat on the couch with her legs open and began the masturbate herself while looking at Kaylin’s clean pussy.

Kaylin approached and was bending down to once again to taste the redhead’s sweetness when Mary Margaret pulled her in by the arm and Kaylin found herself across Mary Margaret’s lap, face down on the couch with her pussy over the redhaired pussy and her ass positioned up in the air.

She was positioned like a bad child on an angry mom’s lap, and she wondered if Mary Margaret planned to spank her. She tightened up expecting the sting of a slap.

“Relax,” Mary Margaret whispered then using her right hand began to massage Kaylin’s pussy from behind while her left hand held her ass cheeks open for access. Kaylin reacted to the awkward pussy massage by bucking her ass a bit.

Mary Margaret intensified as she put her finger in her own mouth the wet it then placed it on the edge of Kaylin’s tight ring and began to draw lazy circles around her starfish.

Working both hands at once, Mary Margaret was driving Kaylin into a frenzy, evident by the gush of wetness coming from deep within her. Kaylin looked back at biting her lip while trying to get a better view when Mary Margaret pushed her finger through the tight ring of Kaylin’s ass finding the smoothness beyond the barrier. Kaylin’s mouth opened letting a gasp escape.

“Oh, that feels so…strange,” Kaylin whispered.

“You’ve never…?”

Kaylin shook her head no, unable to verbalize that Mary Margaret was entering virgin territory. With a slightly sadistic smile, Mary Margaret kept at it, adding in a second finger bringing a little pain to add to the pleasure.

“If I had a strap-on I would fuck your sweet little ass,” the redhead stated.

The thought of Mary Margaret with a large plastic strap-on excited Kaylin. She imagined the aggressive redhead driving the molded plastic phallus in her pussy and ass.

“Next time,” Mary Margaret said as she kneaded at Kaylin’s ass.

Praying there would be a next time, Kaylin’s muscles started to spasm bit. She knew the cumming sensation and tried to fight it off. Pushing with her inner muscles she tried to expel Mary Margaret’s fingers.

“Don’t make me cum yet,” she pleaded. “I want to cum with you.”

Knowing she could send Kaylin over the orgasm line with just a little more pressure, Mary Margaret complied and withdrew her fingers but kept kneading at the younger girl’s pussy with her open hand.

Slowly Kaylin crept away from Mary Margaret to the opposite end of the couch. Each woman lay on their backs with open legs facing each other. Mary Margaret took two fingers and began to massage her own clit then down into her moist opening until she found her own g spot. On the opposite end of the couch, Kaylin waited until the near orgasm subsided then did the same.

“So, how does it feel to fuck your high school crush?” Mary Margaret taunted.

“I’ll tell you after she makes me cum,” Kaylin replied.

“Trib me,” The sexy redhead both demanded and asked nicely. Let me feel your clit on mine.”

Kaylin smiled at the idea. She crawled over to Mary Margaret until she was above her then straddled atop her allowing her bare pussy was touching Mary Margaret’s pussy. Separating her lips to reveal her swollen inner self, she pushed back the hood of skin that was trying to hide her clit. The red head did the same until her clit was revealed in a wet field of flesh.

Mary Margaret could not remember the last time she was on the bottom of a tribbing session. She was always on top, commanding the action, like a man fucking a woman, but this girl was fucking her, and she liked it.

Kaylin then pressed her pussy to Mary Margaret’s and began to slide up and down her wet fur allowing their clits to rub each other with each pass.

But with Kaylin on top riding her in a gentle fashion, it felt natural and relaxed and best of all she could look up at the sexy woman atop her wearing the multimillion-dollar necklace that brought them together.

Mary Margaret whispered, “How did I miss spotting you back at St. Magnus?”

Kaylin didn’t answer and kept sliding their clits over each other then sat back to take in the view of the redhead’s large tits.

Taking four fingers, Kaylin gently prodded at Mary Margaret’s pussy, pushing it open. Wet and lubed from the intensity of their lovemaking, the fingertips went in easy, disappearing through her red forest and inside her vagina.

Mary Margaret grunted a bit as Kaylin gently massaged her pussy from the inside. It was unexpected but the sensation was more than pleasurable.

“Shhhh,” whispered Kaylin as she brought her face to Mary Margaret’s ear and. “Relax. Let me in. Let me all the way in.”

Not used to taking commands Mary Margaret’s first thought was to reverse the situation. But Kaylin held firm and pushed her hand harder. Now only her thumb was outside the redhead’s pussy.

Kaylin’s four fingers went deeper into Mary Margaret’s slit causing her to moan and squirm just a bit.

“Shhh,” Kaylin whispered again into her crush’s ear.

They put their lips together and began to kiss as Mary Margaret opened her legs wide then wider allowing Kaylin to slide her fingers in deep then deeper but still her thumb remained out.

“I’m putting the whole hand in. Are you ready for that?”

Mary Margaret could hardly speak from the overwhelming sensation of pressure but brought her hand down and curled Kaylin’s thumb so it could join the other fingers in her widened pussy. She was ready.

Kaylin’s hands were small, but her fist was still a challenge for Mary Margaret, and she let yet another groan as it slid inside her causing air to escape with a quiet quief.

Her extremities went numb, her hand clenched tight on Kaylin’s wrist and her right hand began groping wildly for something to grab finally finding Kaylin’s thigh.

“Oh, it feels so good. So good,” the redhead moaned.

Kaylin gently moved her fisted hand in and out slowly causing Mary Margaret to flail a bit.

“Do you feel it?” Kaylin asked already knowing the answer.

Mary Margret nodded between breaths and then arched her back a bit more almost fighting the probing.

“Don’t you try to push me out,’ Kaylin scolded.

“I’ll behave,” Mary Margret said in a submissive voice then squirmed with pleasure unable to catch her breath. Her legs were now wide open and even though untouched, her tight red asshole began to gape.

“It hurts but that’s so good,” the redhead moaned.

“You want me to stop?” Kaylin offered.

“No,” she said between groans. “I really like it; I really like it. I feel so full. So full.”

If she had anything more to add, it was lost in the swelling orgasm that was starting to form in the walls of her pussy all around Kaylin’s fist.

The redhead’s muscles went rigid, and Kaylin could feel her hand trapped as the redhaired pussy lips sealed around Kaylin’s wrist in a tight grip. Mary Margret’s orgasm hit first and then again and again. It was a series of waves so intense she began to develop tunnel vision as if she might pass out.

Kaylin could feel her lover’s reaction via her enclosed fist. A wash of Mary Margaret’s fluids moved over her hand and wrist, dripping on to the couch. The sensation of bringing her crush to multiple orgasms was too much and she also went stiff, as her pussy pulsated in a mutual and matching orgasm created by the passionate connection alone.

All that could be heard after the mutual moaning subsided was the heavy breathing of both women. The panting slowed, their breath returned and then slowly, with care, Kaylin removed her hand from Mary Margaret’s confines. The two remained wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging kisses. Unable to move, they held each other tight until they both drifted to sleep.

Hours later Kaylin woke to find herself still naked on the couch covered by a blanket. Still basking in the post orgasmic glow, she turned to see Mary Margaret dressed and wearing a Red Sox sweatshirt. Feeling around her neck, she could see the Red Scarlett was gone.

“I borrowed this sweatshirt from the back.”

“You’re leaving?” Kaylin asked.

“People to see, places to go,” Mary Margaret offered in a non-comital way.

“Will I see you again?” Kaylin asked a bit hopeful.

“My work tends to keep me on the move and I’m not sure it’s the best thing to stay in one place very long,” Mary Margaret offered a bit coldly.

“Oh, yeah sure. I get it. Yeah, of course,” Kaylin said with feigned enthusiasm.

Mary Margaret came over and gave Kaylin a deep kiss, something far better than a one-night stand peck and run. Kaylin closed her eyes to enjoy it.

Without words, Mary Margaret unlocked the door and walked up the stairs to the street level. Kaylin could see her legs as the red head no one was looking for, walked away and vanished into the morning foot traffic on Newbury Street.

Four weeks later the Salon was full, Kaylin was hard at work alongside the other scissor sisters when the shop owner Hannah came in with a fabulous red head wearing a very sharp and expensive Tahari suit that revealed nothing and yet revealed everything.

“Scissor sisters, an announcement! Ladies. Please. This is Isabella McAllen, the new owner of Hannah and her Scissor Sisters! That’s right bitches, I am off to Provincetown!”

The scissor sisters all cheered for Hannah giving him a big hug but Kaylin walked up to Mary Margaret and gave her polite handshake.

“Ms. McAllen, do you know much about the salon business?”

“And you are?” Mary Margaret asked looking at her like a stranger.

“Oh, sorry. Kaylin Leary, one of your employees.”

“Nice to meet you Kaylin, would you mind showing me around? Let’s start in the back,” she said walking past with a faux bitchy attitude.

Kaylin entered the back room unsure what game Mary Margaret was playing only to be met with a deep embrace and an enthusiastic kiss from her former hostage taker, sexual conquest and now boss.

Kaylin pulled back and looked at Mary Margaret with a smile.

“I don’t know shit about running a business, so this one is yours if you want it,” Mary Margaret said, “and one more thing, I don’t know shit about relationships, so this one is also yours if you can figure out how to make this work.”

Kaylin smiled and moved in for a close embrace and another passionate kiss.

“I’ll make it work; we’ll make it work.”

Diamonds are Forever

Diamonds are forever

Sparkling ’round my little finger

Unlike men, the diamonds linger

Men are mere mortals who

Are not worth going to your grave for

Diamonds Are Forever lyrics © Emi Unart Catalog Inc.

________________________________________________________________

SISTER GOLDEN HAIR

Grace exited the bathroom carrying her shower kit and tiptoed quickly through the empty hallway to her small room. Once inside she shut the door then pulled the lone desk chair to the door wedging it in tight so no one could enter.

Outside the afternoon sun filtered through the window so she quickly drew the shades careful to not be seen by people outside.

The room was sparse with a wardrobe, a twin bed, a desk the chair and little else. Above her bed was a framed picture of Jesus.

Carefully she reached under her mattress and pulled out a glossy magazine with the bold title of Cunt Hunter, featuring a vintage photo of a woman reeling back in ecstasy as a hairy mustachioed man plants his penis deep inside her vagina. The magazine seemed to be from the 70’s but that was hardly a concern for her.

Sitting on the bed, she opened her robe slightly then holding the magazine with one hand then slid her other hand down her flat stomach until it met the curls of her thick dark pubic hair.

Like the woman in the magazine Grace’s pussy was a tangle of dark hair, unkempt and wild. The darkness made the sweet pinkness of her inner folds more evident as she ran her fingers up and down her slit finding her clit and circling it while studying the crude and dated porn magazine.

She continued to fondle herself turning page after page examining the increasingly intense stages of awkward sexual fucking. The photo story turned interesting when a second woman entered the adventure. The worn nature of the magazine hinted that these were the pages Grace loved best as she increased her self-stimulation. Plunging two fingers inside herself her wetness made a slurping sound and she became lost in her rising orgasm.

A sudden knocking on the door put an abrupt end to the pleasure and Sister Grace sat up in fear. Quickly placing the magazine under the mattress, she quietly moved the chair and opened the door to find a nun, Sister Teresa, waiting patiently.

“Sister Grace, Mother Superior has asked that you come down to the school and help with the students. She’s worried about some of the troublemakers.”

“Of course, Sister. I just showered, so allow me to dress and I’ll be there soon.”

“She asked that you patrol the old dormitory and the library. I’m going to be locking classrooms. It’s the usual suspects you should be on the lookout for.”

Sister Grace looked around her tiny room and at the open doors of the lone wardrobe in the corner. Inside hung her black habit and on a shelf the few civilian clothes that remained from when she joined the order six years ago.

Dropping her robe, she looked at the painting of Jesus as she began to dress and moved the wardrobe door so he could not see her nude body.

Holding up her old Red Sox sweatshirt remembering her days spent at Fenway. But the congregation of Holy Cross did not approve of such frivolous activities. She finished dressing and went outside to meet the day.

It was the day of the Senior Picnic, an annual ritual at St. Magnus when classes were canceled and the students gathered on the campus grounds for food and games. Fun for the students, but a high alert moment for the school staff and the nuns who help run the place. Young Catholics have a way of seeking out venal sins.

Sister Grace watched Sister Theresa leave then closed her door and took off her robe leaving her naked. Her skin was milk white having never seen the sun since she entered the order six years ago at eighteen years old. She was average in height and thin with a flat stomach and exceptionally large breasts which would have turned heads in any outfit other than a nun’s habit.

Without her nun’s habit she looked like a California beach girl sans tan but with beautiful healthy blond hair. Relegated to never wearing shorts let alone a bathing suit, her pubic hair was an unkempt wild tangle with a dark treasure trail leading to her navel and curls inside her thighs. Looking at her unkept pussy, one might think it was 1974 all over again down there, but that was 40 years ago.

Sister Grace closed her eyes to enjoy the moment of freedom with just herself and her body. Looking in the mirror she admired herself then went to the wardrobe and began to dress. First a no-frills bra that over supported her large breasts pressing them tight against her body. The order frowned upon showing any shape, so the bras were industrial and tight, and the underwear bulky.

Slipping on the robes and head covering she finished the outfit off with the wimple that surrounded her face in white and the veil of black and white that let anyone around know, this woman is a nun.

Despite being inside Boston city limits, the campus of St. Magnus was large and sprawling with several buildings, playing fields, a cathedral and convent. The students, girls in their plaid dresses and boys wearing jackets and ties, were taking part in games or grabbing lunch and finding a place to sit and enjoy the beautiful spring day. Teachers, administrators, and several of the nuns were either taking part or keeping a watchful eye out for mischief.

Sister Grace walked toward the old dorm pausing to look at the tall buildings of downtown Boston just a few blocks away. Her eyes could not avoid seeing the ornate brick and iron fence that surrounded the campus. While this was a venerated institution of learning to most, to Sister Grace it was a prison.

Entered St. Hildegard Hall, she paused to look at a large painting of animals sitting on a wooded hillside. Entitled Peaceable Kingdom, the Hicks painting had been donated by a billionaire alumnus but now sat unappreciated in the hallway of a convent dormitory that had been closed for two years. Sister Grace felt sad the beautiful painting sat unappreciated in the dusty building that no one lived in or visited.

Her gaze on the painting was interrupted by the whispers of voices coming from down the hallway. Whomever it is better have a good reason for being here she thought as she moved quietly toward the sound.

The voices were coming from the last room on the hall, a bedroom not too different from her own. The door was slightly ajar as she approached. Putting her bets on which entitled brat it was in the room, she stood back in the shadows to get a look.

From her perspective she could see a girl sitting on the bed making out with a young man. While their faces were obstructed the flaming red hair of the girl let Sister Grace know exactly who this was – Mary Margaret McCardle, a student in her art class and the known as the campus rebel.

The two students were engaged in a hot make out session, but since kissing is only a venal sin, nothing that requires penance, she decided to sit back and allow them this tender moment.

She could monitor from the shadows and stop them before they crossed from a venal sin to a moral one.

Inside the room Mary Margaret and Jimmy Demarco were lost in deep kisses and bodily caresses. Jimmy struggled to remove his jacket while Mary Margaret’s one hand massaged his thigh ever so close to what was now a raging erection.

“You promised me a blow job,” he whispered between kisses.

“It’s my nineteenth birthday tomorrow,” she replied, “You go down on me then I’ll blow you.”

Jimmy’s 19th birthday was three weeks prior, and Mary Margaret gifted him with a hand job backstage of the auditorium. He relished that moment every morning and afternoon when he masturbated to the memory.

But now he was alone with Mary Margaret with the promise of taking this to the next level. He wanted a blow job, he needed a blowjob, but she wanted him to go down on her, and that alone would be mental masturbation material for years to come.

The girl scooched back on the bed and lifted her plaid dress revealing no underwear and a red bush that rivaled the fiery mane on her head. Well groomed, her red clad vagina was moist and wanting. Jimmy returned to kissing as Mary Margaret guided his hand down to her pussy, she then took his fingers and guided them up and down her moistened slit. She rocked forward onto his fingers enjoying their welcome invasion.

Outside in the hall, Sister Grace stood transfixed. Her focus was on Mary Margaret’s wet pussy and the subsequent reaction the young woman had each time his fingers moved up and down her opening.

Remembering why she was there the sister considered the moment and decided this was still only a venal sin, nothing more than exploration of the body. Celebrating love between two people.

She remained in the shadows watching, aware her heavy undergarments were becoming wet with her flowing juices. But even that was not a sin and she continued to watch.

“Lick my pussy,” Mary Margaret demanded as she pulled his head down toward her open legs. While he had fantasized about such a moment, Jimmy was hesitant. What would it feel like? What would it taste like? Would he be any good?

Inches away from Mary Margaret’s watering slit Jimmy could see her labia engorged and waiting. Bringing his tongue to a tip he took his first taste of a woman by inserting it deep into her pussy. The warmth of her inner heat surprised him, and the rich taste of her pheromones intoxicated him.

“Oh. My. God,” Mary Margaret proclaimed as the sensation of being penetrated by a firm tongue for the first time coursed through her body. It was amazing and she wanted more. Putting two hands on his head Mary Margaret guided Jimmy’s face up and down her pink portal reeling from the experience.

Sister Grace thought to herself it was time to intervene. If someone else came along and found the two there would be consequences. But as Mary Margaret opened her legs wider showing the pinkness of her interior, the nun chose to wait.

Mary Margaret’s head rocked back as Jimmy increased his licking and flicking. He had seen enough porn to know what to do. He began long licks up and down her pussy running his tongue across her goosbumped perineum. He could see her tight puckernut pulsing almost inviting him to take a taste but chose to return to her clit knowing she would react well to its stimulation.

Jimmy’s erection was practically bursting from his pants. Mary Margaret kept her hands on his head pressing his face into her depths, so Jimmy decided to help himself. With one hand he unbuckled his pants, pulled down the zipper and pulled out an impressive sized cock which he began to stroke.

Mary Margaret noticed Jimmy’s cock was free and decided to help him a bit. Pushing him back she moved toward him, licking his face, and enjoying the taste of herself on his flesh. She then unbuttoned her blouse and took it off revealing a lacy black bra that was unacceptable for a Catholic school, but so was not wearing underwear, so fuck it.

Jimmy watched as she unbuckled the bra from the front allowing her large soft breasts to drop free. Her white skin was a contrast to her pert pink areolas and red nipples.

Jimmy used the opportunity to pull his pants down revealing the fullness of his talents. Despite a lean body, his manhood was larger than would be expected. Not the stuff of an adult film, but a pleasant surprise for anyone reaching below his belt.

“I need you to suck it,” Jimmy pleaded. “I want to cum in your mouth,” he said emboldened by the moment.

Mary Margaret smiled and grabbed her breasts, one in each hand and began to knead them a bit. She then leaned in close to Jimmy’s cock almost taking it in her mouth but then placed it between the flesh of her breasts and began to move up and down the shaft, her soft pink breasts tit fucking his rigid cock.

Jimmy had expected her mouth, but this sensation was amazing. Mary Margaret squeezed her breasts even tighter enveloping his penis and trapping it there. As she stroked down the large mushroom tip would pop out and she would give it a quick lick with her tongue lubricating it a bit before it was swallowed back up by the voluptuousness of her breasts.

In the darkened hallway Sister Grace’s heart was racing, her breath quickened. She looked down to see her hand had been in the deep pockets of her habit, massaging her pussy through the lining and over her undergarments. She felt dizzy, as if something were coming over her.

She closed her eyes to ride a wave and she fell backward knocking a freestanding lamp to the ground. It fell with an alarming clatter.

Inside the room both Mary Margaret and Jimmy sat up startled by the sound of the falling lamp. Jimmy jumped up to pull up his pants but with one leg out of the slacks he stumbled and fell. Mary Margaret pulled down her skirt covering her vagina and looked for her blouse.

Sister Grace contemplated running away, but realize the only way out was to go in. She opened the door of the bedroom to see Mary Margaret, her luscious breasts still exposed and Jimmy still trying to get his legs in his pants. Despite the intrusion, his cock remained hard and pulsing.

“Mary Margaret McCardle and Mr. Demarco. For shame. Underage and under dressed.”

“Hold on, wait Sister. First. We are not underage,” Mary Margaret stated firmly. “He’s 19 and I’ll be 19 tomorrow. So, there’s that. Not underage.”

“Your age is only second to the shameful acts I assume you were participating in.”

Sister Grace was putting on her best holy roller impression expressing her false righteous indignation at the sinful acts of the two.

Were you drinking? Will I smell alcohol on your breath?

“No!” Jimmy pleaded. “We didn’t drink.”

“Stand up,” the sister demanded, and Jimmy rapidly complied his pants still askew allowing his firm appendage to remain exposed.

Sister Grace leaned in and took a sniff around his mouth. She knew full well they had not been drinking but used this excuse to inhale the smells of lust that remained slathered across Jimmy’s face.

Her nostrils flared as Mary Margaret’s latent pussy scent tickled her olfactory senses. She could smell earth, and metal plus an herbal note. She savored it like wine then turned to Mary Margaret.

“And now you young lady.”

Mary Margaret stood unabashed; her breasts still exposed as Sister Grace leaned in pretending to smell her breath for alcohol. While there were hints of her own rich scent licked from Jimmy’s face, Mary Margaret smelled of a musky perfume.

The sister’s nose was just a few millimeters from Mary Margaret’s face, almost to her skin. When the redhead breathed out a bit, the warmth of her sweet breath, wafted over the sister’s mouth and cheek. Try though she could not to react, the involuntary goose bumping on her cheek betrayed her titillation.

Sister Grace stood back and faced the two. Jimmy had a panicked look in his eyes. He had a scholarship on the line and did not need end of semester shenanigans to interfere with that.

Mary Margaret had no fear. She had been studying Sister Grace’s movements and reactions from the moment she entered the room. She had all the information she needed to see her way out of this.

“How long were you watching us?” Mary Margaret demanded.

“I wasn’t, I just came down the hall and heard you.”

“Did you watch as Jimmy ate my pussy?” she asked firmly.

“Mary Margaret, we don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry, did you see him perform cunnilingus on me?” she offered rephrasing herself.

Sister Grace stammered for an answer.

“Did you like what you saw?” Mary Margaret queried like a lawyer at a trial. “Maybe you want to see some more?”

“Mary Margaret,” Jimmy began, “please let’s not make this-”

“Would you like to see some more?” Mary Margaret asked Sister Grace ignoring Jimmy altogether.

The sister stood still and silent. Insider her head she could hear her heart pounding. Her fingers tingled and her breasts began to hurt as they swelled against the restrictive fabric of her strong brassiere. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run, but most of all she wanted to feel what it was liked to be Mary Margaret. To have her body ravaged and to feel what it was like to be entered by a man or a woman.

“It’s a natural thing. You want what we have. You want to experience what we can, but you think you can’t,” Mary Margaret stated.

“You wouldn’t understand, Sister Grace said with a lilt of sorrow.”

“I understand desire. I know that pleasure cannot possibly be a sin. Why would God make our bodies so beautiful and sensitive if not to be enjoyed?”

“To test us,” the sister stated.

“That’s not you talking, that’s the Pope. You want this. You need this and Jimmy and me, we can give it to you. We want to give it to you.”

Jimmy started to protest but Mary Margaret gave him a look of death.

“Jimmy, show the sister your cock. Show her how big it is. Stroke it so it’s rock hard.”

Half terrified of both Mary Margaret and Sister Grace, Jimmy pulled his pants down a bit springing his cock free. He began to stroke it and despite all the drama his penis was unaffected becoming turgid and pulsing in seconds.

“Go ahead, touch it. Feel it in your hands. There’s nothing like it,” Mary Margaret urged, looking directly into Sister Grace’s eyes. “Touch it.”

With a shaky tentative hand Sister Grace reached out and put her hand around Jimmy’s tumescent member. The impressive girth made her unable to grip it completely around. Inexperienced or perhaps frightened, she simply held the cock but did not stroke it.

Mary Margaret placed her hand on Sister Grace’s hand and help slide it up and down Jimmy’s cock moving the skin masturbating him.

Sister Grace moved in closer to get a better grip bringing her face close to Jimmy’s crotch watching his penis as she massaged it. Mary Margaret reached down and gently removed her veil followed by the headpiece revealing the sister’s natural golden hair which flowed to her shoulders once released.

Mary Margaret gasped at the beauty of her face and hair and wondered why someone as gorgeous as Sister Grace would want to be a nun. Perhaps that mystery was under the sister’s tunic. The unattractive frock could hide a lot. Certainly, there was something wrong with this woman that would drive her to a life a celibacy.

The sister was lost in the moment, slowly tugging on Jimmy’s cock. Her strokes were rough and inexperienced, but Jimmy had no complaints and thought only of his good fortune.

Mary Margaret pulled down the zipper of the frock. At first sister Grace’s hand went to stop her, but she backed off and gave a nod. Permission granted; Mary Margaret proceeded to pull the zipper down opening the habit it like a gift. The heavy frock was unzipped but sat on the sister’s shoulders; Mary Margaret took the sister’s hand stood her up and pushed back the frock which fell to the ground giving the sister the appearance of Venus emerging from the ocean.

Mary Margaret and Jimmy both gasped at the perfect body hidden beneath the habit. Flat stomach, a thick round ass hourglass curves and voluminous breasts still bound by a brutal brassiere. Emboldened, the sister reached behind and unhooked her bra setting her breasts free.

Since she had taken her hand off Jimmy’s cock, he resumed stroking it while looking at the older woman’s pleasures.

“My God, sister, you are stunning,” Mary Margaret said in awe. “May I touch you?” Mary Margaret asked.

Sister Grace sat on the bed and Mary Margaret sat next to her placing a full hand on her right breast and kneading it gently watching the nipple grow between her fingers.

Sister Grace breathed deep at the touch. Mary Margaret moved her body in close so her exposed breasts were touching the nun’s. Their nipples teasing each other. Leaning in with a hungry mouth the two met and began to explore each other while their arms grasped at each other.

Jimmy was almost at a breaking point. Two women, one a nun, the other a hot redhead, were exploring each other in front of him. No porn video would ever match what he was experiencing.

He wanted to resist, but the sight kept him stroking harder and harder. He began to grunt a bit as he felt the cum boiling in is loins. Still stroking he declared loudly, “I’m going to cum.”

The women broke from their embrace just as a stream of white catapulted from his turgid cock landing on the breasts of both women. Each reeled back a bit in surprise. Jimmy kept pumping as more cum oozed down is fingers.

Mary Margaret was about to say something but was caught off guard when the sister leaned into her breasts and began to lick off the cum, lapping it up in her mouth. Surprised by how hot this action was, Mary Margaret allowed Sister Grace to finish her tongue bath, licking every trace of semen off her breasts, then pulled up her skirt and pushed the sister’s head down to taste her fiery crotch.

Jimmy was spent and had to sit on the chair to refract. His cock was less tired and despite the ejaculation, it remained 90% hard. His heartbeat was evident in the pulsing movement of the resting member.

Mary Margaret maneuvered herself so the sister had full access to her slit and used her fingers to open herself up to be tasted. The taste and smell of the redhead was overpowering for Sister Grace as she nibbled and licked around Mary Margaret’s clit which tried to hide under its hood.

Although inexperienced at going down on a woman, her countless hours of self-exploration made up the gap and she chased the redheads’ pearl with her tongue, then licked circles around it until drawing a moist response from Mary Margaret’s glands.

“This is beautiful. The red hair around it, and its groomed so nice. I’m embarrassed to show mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, your body is perfect. We want to see your pussy,” Mary Margaret said looking at Jimmy who was happy with the direction of the conversation.

Mary Margaret stood up removing the plaid skirt and stood before the nun naked. She took Jimmy’s hand and made him stand up then helped him out of the rest of his slacks.

Both naked and standing in front of Sister Grace, Mary Margaret and Jimmy helped the nun to her feet. She was taller than Mary Margaret and shorter than Jimmy. Her exposed breasts where large and the only thing she remained wearing were a pair of grandmother level underwear that were soaked around the crotch.

Standing like a tailor’s mannequin, Sister Grace allowed them to slowly pull down her restrictive undergarments. Mary Margaret led with gentle kisses to the navel then as the area below was revealed, she followed a thin but thickening layer of black hair down like a trail to a treasure and finally to the dark full bush that was the last frontier of Sister Grace.

“It’s a mess. I should trim it, but then again why?” Sister Grace said.

“It’s perfect,” Mary Margaret said, mesmerized by the sight, “tell us what you want. This must be your choice.”

The sister sat on the bed and reached out with her left-hand taking Jimmy’s cock in a firm grip. It was rigid and ready. With her right hand she slid her fingers over Mary Margaret’s pussy being sure to let her middle finger take a dive into her silkiness and across her clit. She began to masturbate them both.

“I want you both. I want to find out who I am. I want you both inside me. Help me understand my needs.”

The only thing Jimmy understood was this unattainable goddess of desire wanted him to fuck her. The moment of his lifetime was before him. He looked to Mary Margaret for permission. She nodded yes.

Mary Margaret understood the mission, this woman, chaste and repressed, was begging to emerge from her sheltered life and wanted to feel passion from within. The path was set. Gentle was the way.

Sister Grace lay on her back and Mary Margaret climbed next to her and nestled in placing her mouth on the sister’s mouth sharing intimate kisses. She slid her hand down the nun’s stomach and probed through the thick hair then into her pinkness. Inside was like silk and reminded Mary Margaret of the lining of her favorite blanket.

Sister Grace put her hand on Jimmy’s thigh urging him into position. Kneeling on the bed Jimmy held the sister’s right leg out causing the darkness of her pussy to gently open revealing the inviting slit. He could feel the heat of her tender inside emanating.

On his knees he approached, cock in hand he began to move the pulsing mushroom head around the entrance to her pussy. Pushing just the tip inside he could feel her vagina relax instinctively readying itself for the inevitable.

She was wet and lubricated and there was nothing left but to push his hips forward and he slid inside the nun with ease. For the sister there was a moment of pain, but that was followed by a euphoric relaxation as her muscles accepted the challenge and went to work taking in this sizable cock. Her virtue was gone in an instant, replaced by the sensation of exhilaration.

Sister Grace gasped for air.

“How does it feel?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Full and the pressure, the pressure is tantalizing. It’s not what I imagined.”

Despite his instinct to fuck away, Jimmy took it slow after all it was his first time too and fucking away would mean a quick ejaculation. He needed this to last.

Sister Grace had both legs open wide and then pulled her knees back allowing Jimmy’s cock to sink in deep where the tip found her A spot.

As his member pressed on her pussy’s walls it caused electrical pulses to course through her body. Despite the pleasure she was feeling from a younger man penetrating her virginity, she kept her gaze on Mary Margaret pulling her in for kisses as Jimmy increased his cadence.

Let me taste you again, Sister Grace pleaded. Mary Margaret straddled the nun’s face while facing Jimmy who continued to slide his cock in and out. The redhead’s ass and pussy were all the sister could see, just a breath away from her lips. The threesome formed an open triangle as.

The nun put her arms around Mary Margaret’s thighs and drew her labia into her mouth licking it more aggressively than before.

Mary Margaret could feel her body react by creating trickles of fluid that rolled from her and dripped on sister Grace’s face.

Massaging her own breasts, Mary Margaret pulled Jimmy forward placing her left nipple in his mouth thereby closing the triangle with each of the three giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously.

Sister Grace was lost in this fantasy session unsure what sensation she loved best. Jimmy’s cock reached every inch of the inner walls of her pussy, but the reaction from Mary Margaret as she licked her inner folds and rock-hard clit were equally titillating.

“Oh God, I’m so close to cumming,” Sister Grace shouted.

“Wait, turn over. Jimmy, fuck her from behind, I want to feel her cum.”

Jimmy and Sister Grace were confused by Mary Margaret’s commands, but the redhead had it all figured out.

Turning the nun over so she was on all fours, Mary Margaret instructed Jimmy to enter her doggy style. To make sure she could feel Sister Grace’s orgasms, Mary Margaret slid under the nun, so they were in a missionary position.

Sister Grace’s body convulsed a bit as Jimmy entered her. The feeling of being fucked from behind was powerful and gave her a new rush of sensations. Looking down at Mary Margaret laying on the bed beneath her with her bright red hair and fair skin, she leaned down to the younger women and began to passionately kiss and probe. Mary Margaret’s pussy was directly under the sister’s cock stuffed vagina and their large breasts mashed together.

“Do you want him to enter you too?” the sister asked between gasps.

“He’s all yours,” Mary Margaret purred as the sister began to probe her ear with her tongue. Sister Grace pushed her head down a bit to kiss and lick Mary Margaret’s breasts, but Jimmy had increased his tempo.

His large cock slid in and out with Sister Grace’s labia trying to trap it with its tight grip, its elastic skin stretching and retracting but never breaking its moist seal.

He was close. The friction was becoming unbearable. The sensation was building inside the nun as well. She squinted her eyes as she began to moan loudly.

Jimmy could feel his ejaculation coming and cried out, “I’m cumming,” then began to pull out.

Sister Grace reached back and grabbed his leg holding him in.

“Inside me. Cum inside me. I need to feel it.”

Jimmy pressed hard against Sister Grace’s ass pushing his cock deeper as the floodgates opened. A river of hot white love blasted from within him with such force Sister Grace rocked forward. The thick cream filled every remaining crevice of her pussy and even shot out the front dripping down on Mary Margaret’s red bush below the nun.

Mary Margaret recognized the muscular contractions of a rising orgasm and held the sister tight in an embrace. The sister’s head was cheek to cheek with her and she could hear heavy rhythmic breathing followed by a deep shudder and a moan so loud it would be amazing if someone outside didn’t hear it.

Sister Grace’s orgasm was the second domino to fall because all it took for Mary Margaret to finish was feeling the deep pulsations of another woman’s orgasm is it resonated through her like vibrations from a bass speaker.

Sister Grace’s orgasmic crescendo was waning as Mary Margaret’s was rising, but the two met each other in the middle sharing deep intimate kisses as the sister came down and the redhead climaxed. Finally, both subsided and all that could be heard in the room was the deep breathing of three expended people.

Jimmy pulled his now done cock from Sister Grace’s pussy, and she dropped forward lying next to Mary Margaret savoring the afterglow.

They each drifted off to sleep for a few minutes only to be woken up as Jimmy found his pants and shirt and began to dress.

Mary Margaret reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. It was 2:30, they had been away from the picnic for almost 2 hours.

“Jimmy, let me see your cock,” she asked a bit tired.

Jimmy smiled and wondered if he could get it up a third time. He assumed he could.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled out his semi rigid cock for Mary Margaret to see.

“You want me in you this time?” he asked.

Quickly she pulled her phone and took a photo of Jimmy’s cock balls and all.

“No, I do not. So, here’s the deal. You don’t tell anyone about this. Ever. I hear you’ve talked about this I send this photo to Harvard and everyone you’ve ever met. Ten years from now, you mention it I’ll send it to your boss, your wife and then to her lawyer.”

“Who would I tell?”

“You just had a three way with a redhead and a nun. Who wouldn’t you tell?”

Sister Grace rolled on her side and gave Jimmy an innocent doe eyed look. “Can we keep this between us Jimmy? For me?”

Jimmy nodded in agreement, not because Sister Grace asked so politely, but because he was scared to death of Mary Margaret.

Putting on his shirt and jacket he leaned down to offer an awkward kiss goodbye, but Mary Margaret shoved him away. Sister Grace pulled him in for a deep kiss the pushed him back.

“Thank you,” she said kindly.

With that Jimmy was gone leaving only Mary Margaret and Sister Grace naked on the bed cuddling each other. Each would periodically run a finger along the others stomach or breasts.

“Is Jimmy your boyfriend?” Grace asked.

“Him? No. Not my type.”

“His penis was large. Right?”

“Yeah, it’s really big. But, I selected him because his tongue is long. I’ve got a thing for getting my pussy eaten.”

“I’m sorry mine is such a mess,” Sister Grace replied.

“It’s amazing and its natural and it tastes like heaven.”

The two snuggled together a bit.

“How long have you known who you were?” Sister Grace asked politely.

“Pretty much forever. When you can admit it to yourself its liberating, but it brings complications. Guys, girls, family. I’ve only messed around with boys until today. But I treat them like women. They never realize. All they know is they get to finger a girl or lick her pussy.”

“I was your first girl?” the nun asked a little surprised.

Mary Margaret nodded in the affirmative.

“I liked the feeling of Jimmy inside me. But when I finished, I wanted him gone. Am I…am I like you?”

“Not for me to say, but they do sell dildos online so if it’s the penetration you want. Less grunting, less of the faces and no mess,” Mary Margaret added.

With that both women looked down at the river of cum covering their midsections.

“Christ, you think Jimmy could have cum any more than that? I’m covered,” Mary Margaret said.

“There’s a shower in the next room. Want to wash up with me?” the sister proposed.

Mary Margaret smiled at the invitation.

In the empty room next door, the two women found a linen closet with towels soap and other bathroom sundries. Sister Grace smiled as she held up a shaving razor and gel.

“Would you shave me? Help me clean up this mess?”

“It’s fine the way it is,” Mary Margaret remarked.

“Please, it’s another part of my fantasy. I want to feel nubile again. Fresh and starting out for the first time.”

Mary Margaret smiled in agreement. Running a hot shower, the two stepped into the water embracing and kissing as they wiped the last vestiges of Jimmy’s batter from their bodies.

Feeling purified, the sister squeezed out a handful of shaving gel and spread it all over her vagina, between her legs, on her inner thighs and even the entirety of her ass and under her arms.

Leading back on the wall she waited for Mary Margaret to start.

Mary Margaret ran the razor down the treasure trail that began at the sister’s bellybutton and widened out at her mons. The trail disappeared as she stroked, like someone intentionally covering their tracks.

With long slow strokes she started on the outside sometimes having to retrace the path due to the coarseness of the hair.

Being extra careful she soon had most of the pubic hair removed with just a section on either side of Sister’s pussy lips.

“Bend over,” she asked.

The nun turned away from Mary Margaret and bent over with her legs open then grasped her butt cheeks and pulled them wide open revealing her clenched starfish which needed grooming

Gently guiding the blade deep down the inside of her ass cheek the cold steel skimmed over the sister’s tight knot causing it to pucker and flutter. Mary Margaret used a finger to wipe some of the gel off the older woman’s tight hole then continued to groom.

Sister Grace remarked how good that felt to which Mary Margaret reminded her there was an entire world of pleasure out there for the taking.

Clearing all the thick hair from the nun’s backside, Mary Margaret turned her around and finished the rest of her pubic zone until she was bare. Her thick coat of hair had hidden a pronounced pouty pussy with swollen lips and a large clit which glistened like an oyster.

Mary Margaret continued shaving the nun’s legs which were less hairy having been at least minimally kept. With a few strokes the nun’s long legs were bare.

Taking the razor in hand Mary Margaret climbed her partner’s body until they were face to face, breasts pressed tight against each other as the warm shower water cascaded about them.

“Just a little more,” Mary Margaret said and held Sister Grace’s arms up against the wall as if she were about to frisk her.

The position exposed her armpits which beheld tufts of hair. Mary Margaret placed her face close to Sister Grace’s bicep and began to shave one armpit then the other.

After completing the task, she caressed the newly shaven skin with her cheek. The warmth of Mary Margaret’s cheek on the newly shaved skin of Sister Grace’s underarm sent shivers down the nun’s spine.

Sister Grace’s reached her hand down to Mary Margaret vagina and gently enter two fingers which she curled up and under her pubic bone to find the spot she knew all too well on her own body. Mary Margaret shuddered at her touch and responded in kind with fingers in the sister’s pussy, seeking then finding her G spot then pressing.

Their lips locked in deep kisses and mouth exploration, the warm cascade of water heightened their sensations, and each could feel a tidal wave of pleasure coming. Mary Margaret increased her hand motion silently signaling her partner to do the same.

A mutual orgasm was upon them and like a tidal wave it hit them both with crushing force. Each woman felt her extremities tingle then muscular contractions which originated in the solar plexus exploded outward. Mary Margaret let out a long guttural groan while Sister Grace convulsed with such euphoric pleasure that a trickle of pee escaped her bladder and sprayed its warmth on Mary Margaret’s legs.

The extasy over, the two women washed off, toweled off and got dressed in silence. When Sister Grace was about to pull on her thick undergarments and brassiere, she balled them up and threw them in the garbage. Slipping into the Habit, she donned her headgear and turned to face Mary Margaret who was back in her plaid uniform. Sister Grace’s breasts remained hidden under the thick fabric, but to the watchful eye, one could see they hung a little lower than before and wasn’t that a hint of a nipple outline?

Holding hands, the two walked back through the empty building stopping at the Peaceable Kingdom painting.

Grace mused about the image before them. “I get it now, those creatures are free, to do as they want, to be what they want. They have no rules, I think they keep this picture here to hide its message. It’s worth a fortune, but its message isn’t one this order feels is productive.”

Before exiting the building, the two women shared one last deep kiss then exited each going their separate ways.

The next day Mary Margaret found herself near the art department of the Liberal Arts wing. She found Sister Grace’s classroom and peered in only to see Sister Andrea leading the class. Confused she entered.

“I’m looking for Sister Grace, she had some notes for me on a project.”

“Sister Grace resigned the order this morning, my dear,” the older nun replied. “She’s leaving us.”

Kaylin, a short haired freshman added in nervously, “I saw her with her bags heading to the main entrance like 10 minutes ago.”

Mary Margaret quickly left hoping to find Sister Grace before she was gone.

On her way to the main building, she passed the old dorm, where just 24 hours earlier she made love to a woman for the first time. Rather than continue to the main building she detoured.

Sister Grace, stood on the steps of St. Magnus with all her worldly possessions contained in two suitcases. She wore jeans, Keds, and a Red Sox sweatshirt making her look more like a student than a young teacher.

A taxi pulled up. The cabbie stepped out and took her bags to the trunk. She was about to get in when a tap on the shoulder stopped her.

Turning, she saw Mary Margaret behind her.

“I hear you’re leaving.”

“I am.”

“Not even a goodbye?”

“I didn’t want it to get weird.”

“You’re not leaving because of yesterday?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Yes and no. Not because of what we did. And yes, because of what we did. I discovered a part of me that I thought was dead and buried. Whatever it was that drove me into your arms, that made me throw years of repressing emotion away, whatever that was, I want more. I won’t find it here.”

“But I’m here.”

“For two more weeks, then what? You have a journey ahead of you and so do I. Who knows if that means our paths will cross again. I hope they do. But let’s see what time brings,” Grace said with a lilt of sadness.

Mary Margaret asked, “Where are you off to?”

“Not sure. Somewhere in New England. Somewhere with open minded people where I can explore the land and myself.”

“I have something for you. Open it when you get there,” Mary Margaret said handing Sister Grace a carboard tube with the ends taped shut.

“Goodbye Sister.”

“Monica. My given name is Monica. Not Sister Grace, Not Sister Lady Gaga, just Monica.

“Goodbye, Monica.”

With that Mary Margaret gave Monica a genial kiss on the cheek and watched her get in the cab and drive away.

A month later, after stopping in several small towns around New England, Monica fell in love with Portland, Maine, with its coastal beauty and quaint downtown.

She felt free in the wide expanses and ready to start her life anew. Getting a job in an artist’s co-op, she unpacked her bags in her first ever apartment.

She finally took the time to open the cardboard tube that Mary Margaret had presented her when she left St. Magnus.

It was a painted canvas. She spread it out on the table she smiled. Before her lay The Peaceable Kingdome painting that had long been ignored at St. Magnus. Days later, matted and mounted, she hung it on a wall that received warm afternoon daylight and sat back to appreciate the painting, the optimism it depicted and her new free life and the erotic fond memory of the young woman who gave her all three.

Sister Golden Hair

Well, I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed

That I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed

I ain’t ready for the altar but I do agree there’s times

When a woman sure can be a friend of mine

Well, I keep on thinkin’ ’bout you

Sister Golden Hair surprise

And I just can’t live without you

Can’t you see it in my eyes?

Sister Golden Hair lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc

_______________________________________________________________

LONG COOL WOMAN IN A BLACK DRESS: Part 2

Colin arrived in Boston and set up his on-the-go office in the Ritz Carlton then headed to Tufts University to guest lecture. He had dinner plans with Mayla for later that night and found himself distracted in anticipation of their meeting in person for the first time.

He finished reading her latest pages on the flight and was astounded by her ability to craft erotica. Unbridled and animalistic, her writing was the opposite of the meandering non-erogenous drivel of Monique Labelle. Mayla’s work held pure passion and pure passion sold books.

Colin was on a lecture hall stage being interviewed by a professor about publishing, how to write your first novel and the future of the print medium. When asked his thoughts on publishing erotic work, Colin replied, “Good question, Mayla.” The interviewing Professor stopped and asked him who Mayla was.

Catching himself Colin apologized and rephrased the statement to say, “Good question Professor Matalin.”

In the darkness of the lecture hall, Mayla reacted at hearing her name uttered as a Freudian slip. She blushed and looked around as if all eyes were on her.

The lecture ended and Colin was saying a few goodbyes when he spotted an attractive tall woman walking into view. She was wearing a long cool black dress with a sleeveless top showing off well-toned arms. She had a youthful glow making it difficult to guess her age.

“Mayla!”

“Hello, Colin.”

“You came to my lecture, I’m delighted,” the handsome publisher said.

“I thought I could learn something, and I did. You missed your calling as a teacher.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. Zoom meetings can only tell so much. You’re so much more-”

“Taller,” she said finishing his thought.

“Well, yes. But I knew you had been a model so no surprise there.”

“You’re not one of those guys who have issues with tall girls?”

“Never,” Colin stated, “we still on for dinner or do you have plans?”

“I think I can make some time,” she replied bringing a smile to Colin’s face.

Dinner was in a small Italian place in Boston’s North End. Plates of pappardelle and two empty bottles of chianti set the relaxed tone.

“I’ve never seen someone as fit as you eat an entire plate of pasta,” Colin remarked.

“In my runway days, never, but the waif look is long behind me. My ex, he wanted me to stay sickly thin. It was strange, but so was he.”

“Divorced?”

“Never married. We were together for 15 years. I was doing catalogue and runway work in Los Angeles, and he promised me more. But it came at a price. And it got weird.

“Weird?” Colin asked.

“Very weird. He became obsessed with my left nipple.”

“We can change the subject,” Colin offered.

“No, it’s in the past,” she replied.

“Ok, I don’t mean to be forward, but you can’t introduce something about a left nipple and then walk away from the conversation.”

“My left nipple never gets hard. Never erect, never pert, never sassy, none of the nipple adjectives,” Mayla said without fear of embarrassment.

“But your right one does?”

“Yes, running, massage, touch, sex, that nipple knows when and how to do its job. Damned good soldier. But lefty, total slacker almost cost me a career.”

“Because-,” Colin asked.

“Erect nipples are a requirement when modeling. Photographers want nipple erections. I’m holding a tub of butter and my nipples need to be perky. Print ad for Coke – make sure my nipples are hard because God knows soda makes a girl horny,” she said with a bit of disdain for her past career.

“But you worked for years. How did you compensate?” Colin asked.

“Fake nipples. Nowadays you can order them off Amazon. Back then I had to get them from a trans sex shop in Hollywood. Just glued them on and I was the girl with the great nips. Kept me booked year after year.”

“Just so you know if a cold breeze comes through the room, I’m going to be casually checking your right breast for a reaction,” Colin said with a laugh, “trying to not catch a look would be an exercise in futility.”

“I’ll save you the time,” Mayla said as she reached into her water glass and took out a few ice cubes.

Leaning back just a bit so her round full breasts filled out her blouse, she ran the ice cubes across the back of her neck. Colin watched confused until he noticed the skin on her arm goosebump and then the right nipple began to engorge creating a small tent in her blouse. From its growth Colin could tell it was large. His eyes shifted to her left breast and — nothing.

“Gunnar tried everything to make that left nipple rise and shine. He’s German so we went down some rather odd rabbit holes. But it never happened.”

“You left him over your nipple?”

“Not the nipple, but his obsessive quest to excite it. Kept him up nights. He felt challenged, even threatened. Accused me of doing it on purpose. He then tried every kink. I never did anything I didn’t want to do. But I did a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I would. On the positive side, those years with that debauched German gave me more raw material than your smut book can hold.”

“With all that source material maybe, we make it a series,” he suggested.

“It’s going to be an anthology,” she replied. “A series of stories about the sexual trysts of different people in each chapter. But there’s subtext, all the narratives will have subtle links between stories. Sometimes a location, sometimes a person. I’m trying to universe build,” she said proudly.