tarihinde yayınlandı Yorum yapın

OEDIPULSATION: Throbbing for Mom

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bbw

Spasms of ecstasy, contractions of rapture, spurts of sperm – all for her!

The best spasms of pleasure when I masturbated are when I fantasized about my mom. Thinking about fucking mother makes my engorged member extra sensitive, and I cum with big loads of spume. Those jolts of jism shoot out harder for her than for any other female I could imagine. The cream literally jets out of my dick. You can visually observe the oscillations of my cock’s pulse from the pounding of my heart, the blood pressure in waves making my meat bob, throbbing from the passion I feel for her.

Those spasms of ecstasy, the tightening contractions of rapture when cumming, the special spurts of white gooey sperm that erupted and shoot into the air; as I make love to mom in my mind, were the best orgasms I had – ever – until we actually did it. Yes, we did it; thanks to the great convulsive orgasms she inspired, and inadvertently witnessed one night. It might be as old a plot as that of the ancient Greek tale, but this was no tragedy. Oh, it had plenty of drama, and while not a comedy, had its humorous moments. But most of all, it is a love story.

Naturally, mothers and sons love one another, but that type is filial. Eros is an altogether different sort of relationship. Especially when relatives have relations, those experiences can be considerably intense, very heightened indeed!

You could say it was Snoop-doodle’s fault. Who was our Beagle/Poodle combo, curious and inquisitive as any pup, sticking his nose wherever he wanted. So it was that he nosed open my bedroom door one day, but as I was practicing my favorite form of self-pleasuring, he got no attention and wandered back out. Since I was engaged in important matters at hand, and knowing I was all alone in the house, I didn’t get up right then and shut my door again. My assumption was faulty.

So that incidental incident, of mom espying my esprit de erotic, which was erect as the Eiffel Tower, was not my fault. Nor, was she to blame either. And an ‘eye-full’ of my tower did she gawk at. She heard me call out her name loudly as my climax built, and (timed according to Murphy’s Law) as I was nearing release. Naturally, hearing me cry her name in a stressed tone caught her attention. She peeked in on her boy as a matter of course – the door was open. No youngster, but a youth all grown-up, who is flaunting and flogging the manhood of her dreams.

She had a secret yen for ‘big-meat’ as she and her sister liked to call large dicks. Their pop and bro qualified, mom’s hubby did not. Now she discovered that her son was a member of that ‘club’, the one which consisted of guys with extra girth and length. The ‘pussy was out of the bag’ on that, when unable to help herself, mom came into the bedroom and sat on my bed to watch the show.

She was no wallflower, but began to take off her blouse then and there. While I was still in shock from her entrance, I was drawn forward by her breast being bared, nor did she stop with the shirt, but continued to lose the bra. Those awesome nipples, like twin sunrises in the clouds, peered over the white cotton being lowered.

She plucked at both red nubs as I stroked my cock. The stake at my crotch was looking like a fat red fire-hydrant, ready to spout. I whimper out the syllable, “Mom!”, as my load ejaculated a geyser of cum in waves of clenching muscles, and jumping balls, and heaving hips. I perceive, in the dim intellect that remained in my mind, after that unprecedented paroxysm, that mom had not had an orgasm, simply gotten topless as she watched me. So I boldly reached over between her legs and felt under her loose dress for her panties. Her crotch was soaked. I grabbed the elastic in back and pulled down.

Mom lifted her hips and helped, hooking her thumbs in the undies and wiggling out of the briefs. Simultaneously, her thighs opened and my hand, still dripping semen, dove for her center; to wriggle first one, then quickly a second digit as well, into her hole. They sawed and my thumb was doing metronome passes over her clitoris. Mother’s hips bucked hard as she was provided with an enormous release from the highly charged tension of the serendipitous moment. My palm was flooded with the deluge of her fluids washing down with her spasms.

Before I could say a word, Mom kissed me, a nice smush mouth smooch that lingered with a hint of tongue. “We’ll talk tomorrow – this is our secret – we’ll have more fun later on!” Then she dashed out to her own room tuzla escort and I was left stunned, dripping, happily surprised, and hopeful for more of the same shenanigans!

I confess to using Snoop-Doodle the next morning to gain admittance to mom’s bedroom. He will sniff out kibble and search for more. It’s a sort of game we’ve played for quite a while. The next morning, I popped a bit of doggie treat under her door; I cracked the knob a smidge. The pup pushes the door open, wanders in, finds the nibble, gobbles it and begins to hunt for more. I was clad in only my boxers as is my custom when it’s just mom and me in the place. I followed the dog in, making like I was trying to get him to leave and not disturb mom’s beauty sleep.

Not that the MILF of my heart needed any more natural adornment. Of course, my playing hero was what woke my queen-of-carnal-desires. Mom likes dad’s old dress shirts for nightgowns. Sometimes she wears panties underneath, sometimes not, I try to guess. It’s a sort of game we’ve played for quite a while. I can’t exactly sniff at her, like the hound has liberty to. Once in a while there is a flash of silky white or brown fuzz. Once some pink, I swear! The one she wore presently had but one button closed in front, and the divide of the flaps displays the fur of her feminine delta.

HOT SHIT!! Beaver shot! As if I didn’t all ready have reason for my solid prow of meat poking out of the fly; like a fucking puppet peeking its head through the curtain! Be it the sight of Snoop-Doodle’s wagging tail or my swaying lance, whatever reason, mom smiled. She indicated that I should join her in bed, lifting the sheets for me to slip in next to her. This was a ritual that we hadn’t shared since I was a small.

She gave the old signal, but I was now no longer a lad. Indeed, I was longer for sure, and glad to have the opportunity to be intimate again, if that was what she had in mind. If not, I was certainly going to try to put some naughty ideas in her head. Like what she must have been thinking last night, when she gave me the full gander at her breasts while I jacked off. Like when she came in my hand. Those sorts of incestuous ideas, consanguine concepts, nasty notions about doing dirty deeds with her kid. If I could put those in her head, might I put something else in her bottom?

To my relief, mom said, “I suppose you’ve come to have our little talk?” Further reassurance was the grip mom put on my hard-on, still a heat-seeking missile of muscle, her thumb swirled the clear slick drip at the tip. My mother’s voice whispered in my ear with low and breathy tones – “You’re much bigger than your daddy; you’re even bigger than my daddy – and Bubba too! (So I discovered her family jewels had been observed, and perhaps fondled as well? As she was with mine right then.)

The pride of genetic virility blinded me to the question of where and when she acquired such statistics on her male relatives. Perhaps firsthand knowledge, as she obviously was doing with me, as she fisted my dick.

“Can I feel it when you blast-off? I love to see a man cum. I love the sensation of a guy’s member throbbing and shooting while I stroke him. Especially when it balloons-up, and spouts like a fire hose. Like when you came yesterday – looking at mommy’s tits. Did that help? MMmmm?”

I didn’t need any more hints. I scrambled to get my shorts off, thank god they weren’t jockeys! Mom laughed at my antics. She doffed her top at the same time and both items were flung to the side. My pants landed on Snoop-Doodle’s head and he exited with it cock-eyed on his ear.

Now we were naked and she resumed stroking my erection, while I returned the favor to her nipples with my fingers ‘working the dials’. “You didn’t answer my question yet. Can I see you squirt your jism? Can I hold it when you climax?”

“God, Yes! Mom, of course, all you have to is – yes! LIKE THAT!” I usually don’t have a hair trigger, but this was morning and I had a load of hormones. Mom got a load of cream on her tits. She laughed a trill of joy, for the orgasm of her boy. “Sorry . . .” I tried to wipe the goo off her pulchritude.

“Never mind,” she murmured, “Momma’s got better use for it.” She scooped it up on her finger and slurped the dollop of pearly spunk into her mouth, her lips sucking in an obvious seductive gesture. I didn’t just kiss her right then, I Frenched her. My mouth continued its assault on her by nibbling down to the nipples and providing pendik escort advanced sucking, having been adept at suckling since I was an infant.

Then I was descending into paradise as mom’s pair of legs parted and my tongue began to part the folds seeking the pearl of pleasure. Discovering it evoked a gurgle of laughter from her throat, a lusty version of the trill of before. There is a wonderful way the female genitalia flesh swirls and flips, and even bounces, as cunnilingus is administered. The taste of mom is delicate, almost like a light olive oil (not virginal though!).

My eyes are memorizing the shape of her labia, my cheeks the feel of her fur; the length of her clitoris, the flavor of her flower; all are on imprinted on my tongue. Mother rolls her hips and bucks her tummy as my skill in licking ladies is demonstrated. Mom is convulsed with ecstasy and writhing with multiple orgasms; I use my weight and legs for leverage to hold her while I munch on her muff,

At last she subsides, the pleasure ebbs, the quiet time of peace and contentment stretches a small while. We kiss, as I scoot up and cuddle next to mom. Even though I’ve blown my wad once this morning, – well, it is morning and I am eighteen – I had another round loaded in the barrel. My cannon was primed from the excitement of having brought mom to a series of climaxes that guaranteed we were not retreating from our advances in intimacy.

OHH! YYEAHH!! Mom gave the next volley of love for bat and balls by countering my move-up with her sliding-down, to my middle, making my lollypop her sucker. My nut-sack was tenderly massaged and she tickled that section of scrotum that gets extra sensitive during arousal. But her lips were skilled and her throat wide. Then, as I was passing into the final phase of our fun, as my spasms were gathering on the brink of jack hammering . . .

My eyes went wide with wonder as the woman with me put a digit up my wazzoo. This was no painus-in-the-anus, but her slender finger slipped in, up to the middle knuckle she prodded, withdrew half an inch then wormed in again seeking the prostate. That had a dramatic effect. Credit due, she swallowed the protein like a pro. Mom had both hands on my cock now with the tip plunging between lips, tongue adding follow through.

Once more the visceral vibrato of my instrument was happening. She was strumming me, the rhythmic pulsing of my dick thrumbed in pitch, rising like the teakettle’s whistle, ready to blow. Mom’s smile shown around her face even as she stuffed it with my swelling organ. Then came the sweet release, the gush that comes from the whole butt, ass through to piss-hole, the rush of semen as it burst out, shooting straight into her . . .

They say ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’; i.e. guys love those who cook for them. Which is why when we ‘bring home the bacon’. We also want our cave-mates to eat the ‘another kind of meat’. So is the way to a woman’s heart through her vagina with cunnilingus? Eating works for both genders. Or, is oral dosage an avenue for access to the recesses of the feminine physique? Personally, I favor vaginal injection by ejaculation as the means to her end, and emotions. Then she is yours – body and soul.

And make no doubt – she owns you.

So when you are having a love affair with your mother, she is both your parent and girlfriend. What she can’t order you to do; she can seduce you into doing. However, the good news is that much of what she wants now is fucking her brains out. I was ready to do my mother’s bidding in that, except she had used up my current supply of spume. She kissed me and kicked me out of bed.

“Mow the lawn today and tonight I’ll make a steak dinner. Would you like cheesecake for desert?” She spread her arms to indicate her charms. “Then maybe, you can score some grass and I’ll get me some beefcake for an evening treat!” (WHOA! WOW!! MOM does dope too! Way cool, my mom’s a stoner-MILF!) “I’m sure by this evening; you will have had enough time to refill your tank.”

Right that!! Hot damn! Tonight I finally get to fuck mom!!

Okay, so I cut the grass and hooked-up with a baggie of weed from a kid I knew in the neighborhood who deals a little pot. Mom had gone out shopping, and by when she returned I was showered and shaved. Dinner was very grown-up, wine and adult conversation, excellent food, mom even made pop-overs! Over dinner she told me how she and Aunt Beth had messed aydınlı escort around with generously proportioned members of the male members of her family.

Beth had banged Gramps, so mom did bro, and there was occasional mutual masturbation in varying combinations. Grandma never knew, or turned a blind eye, since she seemed to have had her sex drive dry up after three kids. Poor Grams, missed lots of great fun, here tell. At least mom was thrilled with what I had in my jeans from my maternal genes, and willing to resume her messing around with a generously proportioned member of this male member of her family.

After dinner we sat on the couch and toked up. Mom explained that she started in partying in college and never quit, but had a harder time to acquire marijuana nowadays. She hadn’t felt comfortable asking me until I was legal. So now we sat and mom wanted to play a new game. It was a combination twenty-questions / strip poker / truth or dare thing; which being buzzed was hilarious. It had exceptions to every rule and was impossible to remember it the next morning – but OH! It was fun!!

Eventually we were totally naked and thoroughly high and completely turned-on. Mom wanted to get into my head about my lust for her and I was all too happy to share about my long standing desire for her. As evidenced by my long, standing upright, boner. I mean that solid hard – stretching the skin, ruddy helmeted, stout shafted erection; that wanted nothing more (or less) than the gaping pink flesh of my mother’s hole – that yearningly yawned open directly before my face.

Yeah . . . That hole . . . My penis . . . The moment was um? A pregnant pause?

Then mom grabbed my . . . . . . . hand.

And dragged me to the bedroom.

Seduction is swell, and has a place in romance. But there is just something about a good-old-fashion-fuck that makes the straight forward process of getting it on so exciting. Not that I didn’t have the presence of mind to admire the view as mom climbed on the mattress ahead of me, her derrière a delectable distraction. She turned and lay back, spread-eagle, a woman ready and willing to be sacrificed to the male spike aimed at her center.

The pink pussy looked tight and slick, it all but steamed. Now was the moment I was going to take her – there was no going back – mating was commenced. Face to face, my chest on her spongy tits, we kissed with lips, tongue, echoing the action at our loins. Both of us were wanting this wanton lust, the sinful, the crazy passion for our physical union. Pleasuring each other until the universe dissolved in a cosmic cum, the climax of our incremental incest. My cock made contact with her cunt.

The tissue parted, the underside of the tip skidded across the oiled groove and nosed in to the depression amidst the petals. In my mind’s eye I had seen this in my fantasies, hundreds of times. Now I looked past my belly-button and saw it for real. The warmth engulfed my dick-head, softly parting like a thick gel; mom’s vagina let me sink/slide (slink?) deeper inside her body. Now we were one, again, forever, and always, at least until we couldn’t cum any more.

Then we’d take a break.

But that wasn’t yet! As mom predicted, the tanks were topped off and the pounding was full throttle. This was the moment as the T-H-R-O-B-B-I-N-G peaked, just as it was meant to happen. This was the point that the big pulse, like a shock wave traveling from my peri-whats-iz down there south of my nuts right through to the spurts of jism that synced with the jumping of my balls, was created for. The finest orgasm for a guy is accomplished with a greater than average volume of seminal fluid. I flooded her pussy with three really good shots of the milky offering squeezed out.

Mom frothed as well, the sheets were sticky with the overflow. I lay on top of her, my chest heaving gasping for breath, mom too. I shifted back and gave mom a hand to sit up. I indicated that I wanted her to turn so I could bang her from the back. I plugged into the rosy target of her quim. This angle gave me even more depth it seemed. I really loved the way my testicles swung and bumped mom’s Mons. The slap-slap of the smacking flesh was a turn-on, and then mom began to moan, an even more erotic sound.

“Yess! Give mommy your big cock baby! Plant your seed in mother, give me a baby! I want it! NOWW!!” She pushed back in counter-move to my thrusts, my nuts were getting squished, but I was triggered to blast another dynamite stick. I locked in and had one almighty clench; the nubs of her womb welcomed my sperm. We seem to freeze for a moment, a statue, tribute of art to love and lust, then we collapsed into a tangle of limbs and groped to cuddle and kiss and call it a night.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

tarihinde yayınlandı Yorum yapın

Summer Camp Sisterhood Pt. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Dicks

Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers

(All characters were 18 or older at the time of any sexual activity)

The truth is, everything I’m telling you in this story is the truth. Only the names have been changed, to protect – well, not exactly the innocent…

I have two lives, which for the most part are discrete and separate.

In one part of my life, I am a very competent gynecologist, named Dr. Janet Addams. I take my charge extremely seriously, and would never dream of doing less than my very best, or violating the Hippocratic Oath and the rules of the medical profession. My associates and patients know me as a thirty-five year old professional, attractive but serious, competent and caring, professional and business-like in all aspects of my career.

Another, complementary part of my life is also a subset of the first, composed of interactions with certain, selected patients, professional associates, friends and even relatives. Within that second life, that subset of the first, I am known as the randiest, wildest, horniest, pussy-lovingest dyke to ever set foot in, you pick it – summer camp, high school girls’ locker rooms, girl bars, sorority houses, judge’s chambers, a woman’s prison…even convents. Any place that has a pussy that still gets wet is fair game, in my eyes.

You wouldn’t know it to look at me, as I appear professional and business-like most of the time, and I’m pretty feminine, though I have been known to pile drive more than a few girls with a strap-on. Why the double identity? Perhaps because I grew up without sisters, and am always looking to fill that void, but don’t want to give up my ‘straight’ life. It was the satisfaction that I found with replacement ‘sisters,’ that led me to this life, and I don’t regret an instant of it.

There is nothing I won’t do with another woman, or girl, provided that she is willing and down to fuck, and interested only in she and I, and those with us, cumming as many times as humanly possible. In this story, I will be telling you about that ‘second life.’

My realization that I am in love with lesbian love, and with the body of every woman on earth, came to me early on. I guess it’s a cliché to reference summer camp as the site for one’s sexual awakening, but, hey, it happens. I was kind of a nerd early on in high school, and probably looked like dinner to any sexual predator.

My luck was in looking so tasty to a college sophomore named Amy. If it had been some guy who taught me, I probably would have been scarred for life. As it is, I still see Amy, though we’re both a good deal older, but we still fuck with the abandon of horny minks.

***

“And…you would be, um, Janet?” The sweet voice came from behind me. I turned to look at the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. She was older – she looked a lifetime older, sophisticated, astoundingly beautiful (but I repeat myself – sorry!), tall, long, long brown hair, glossy and perfect, flowing down to nearly the upward curve of her bottom, and not a split end in sight.

Her complexion was clear, if you don’t count the splash of freckles across her nose and upper cheeks, tanned, lovely, white and even teeth, full lips that were made even more attractive by her perpetual smile. Her eyes were blue, her lashes naturally long and so black. Her eyebrows were thick, she apparently wasn’t a ‘plucker.’

She was wearing a camp tee shirt – it was a science camp, thank god, not a band camp! The tee was blue, and brought out the sky in her eyes. She had a whistle on a lanyard around her neck, though I don’t recall her ever blowing it. Her breasts seemed gigantic to me, and I couldn’t help but look down to my nearly, at the time, flat chest in dismal comparison.

She wore light khaki shorts, the hem ending a modest way down her tanned thighs, but snugly fitting her, showing off the perfect roundness and plumpness of her rear end, and the folds of fabric leading between her thighs hinting at what her slit might look like when she was nude. Her legs went from the ground, all the way up to heaven, as the saying has it.

Was she my first love? Absolutely. I bet that you can describe your first love down to the smallest detail. I have the good fortune of periodically being reminded of her ‘smallest detail’ when I see her.

She wasn’t my first crush, or even the first time my clit tingled at the sight of a girl for the first time, but she was very definitely, my first love.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I said, responding to her initial question. My expression was despondent as my eyes took in the expanse of prairie that was my bosom, and then to gaze again on the lush bounty of her breasts.

She followed my eyes, and then giggled. She took my hand, leaned in to me, her cheek warm on mine, and whispered in my ear, “Two years ago, I had tiny breasts – don’t worry.” She pulled back, smiling, her eyes twinkling happily. “I’m Amy Peterson,” she said, more loudly. “I’m the counselor for the Lepidoptera cabin.” Apparently the cabins were named after various orders istanbulescortbayanlar.com in the Animal Kingdom. I told you that I was nerdy, so it stands to reason my summer camp would be, too. I was scheduled for a month there, and the camp was just opening up for the season, located in the woods of upstate New York.

My heart leaped in my chest. The most beautiful girl in the world had talked to me, and about her breasts, too. A silly grin leapt to my face. “Um, thanks,” I replied, not knowing what else to say, but knowing that it was vitally important that I say something.

“Anyway, you’re going to be bunking in my cabin. I’m here to collect you. I’ll take your back pack for the walk, but you’ll need to be doing your own heavy lifting while you’re here.”

She took my hand and we walked toward a rustic cabin about a quarter of a mile away. There were maybe thirty cabins, each holding six girls and a counselor. I thought that my hand would burst into flames from happiness at her touch, and from her sweet manner. Her grip was light but firm, her fingers strong but gentle. Her fingers and palm were a little calloused and rough. Apparently she got outside a little.

Occasionally, she’d lightly squeeze my hand, and we swung our joined arms like little girls, then both of us would giggle. If Amy was what a grown person should be like, she was the first person doing it right that I’d ever met.

“You’re the first girl in our cabin, the others are supposed to arrive tomorrow,” Amy said. “So, that’ll give us plenty of time to get to know each other, huh?”

“I guess so,” I said, still nearly speechless from awe of this Wonder Woman next to me.

When we got inside, Amy said, “Take your pick of bunks.” There were four bunk beds, enough for eight people.

“Which one’s yours?” I asked.

“Oh, my room’s over here,” she said, pointing out a small room that I had initially mistaken for a closet. I peered inside.

“That looks smaller than a bunk bed,” I said.

“I know, right?” Amy said. “But it’s pretty much just for sleeping so…” Then she scrunched herself up with her arms at her sides, and did a ‘mummy’ impression walking around the room, which made me laugh, as did she. I knew that I was in love with her for sure then. She made me feel really, really happy inside, and she made me feel nice in my pussy, just by being herself. I wasn’t too young to know what that was about.

“Get yourself settled in, and then we can go for dinner,” she said. “It’s cafeteria-style, and it’s not too bad. Only three campers got poisoned last year, so they’re really getting better.” I looked at her deadpan expression, but her soft, blue eyes gave the joke away.

“Oh, you…” I exclaimed, and ran at her to punch her arm, but instead we just kind of hugged. That was a lot better than hitting her arm. I could feel her breasts, soft and warm and big, against me. It was such a funny feeling – like I was safe, in my mother’s arms, but exciting, too, like she was opening herself up to me, letting me be her intimate friend.

Dinner with Amy was really great. We talked about a lot of different stuff, and she asked all kinds of questions about me, and about my high school, and my friends, and teasingly asked me if I had a boyfriend. She smiled when I said that I was apparently very choosy, because none of the boys at my school were doing much for me. I couldn’t possibly tell her that, when I masturbated, it was more often picturing a girl than a boy.

“Well, maybe you’ll meet somebody you like, eventually, whether at high school, or college, or even later. It’s just important that you make each other happy.”

“You make me happy, Amy,” I thought, fortunately keeping that one to myself. I could only imagine what would happen if that got out.

We walked back to the cabin, again hand in hand, as the sun sank down and twilight deepened. It was very romantic.

As though reading my mind, Amy said, “It’s so romantic here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s really pretty,” I finished, feeling that a one word answer was kind of rude. She smiled.

“Here we are,” she said. When we got inside, she said, “There’s a one stall shower in the bathroom. The hot water is really limited – they’re replacing the water heaters at each cabin – so if you need a shower, go ahead and take a quick one, okay?”

“Oh, I’m okay,” I said. For some reason my voice rose in pitch, as I pictured Amy taking a shower – minus the tee shirt and shorts. And I was so nervous about being nude in front of her. At the time I didn’t really understand why.

“Well, I stink,” Amy said. “I’m gonna take one,” she said. I wondered what a smelly Amy really smelled like, and I could actually feel my pussy wetting at the thought of smelling her body in different places. I was so embarrassed – I even pictured sniffing her naked bottom, as she pulled her ass cheeks apart! I ground my hand into my pussy to alleviate the feelings there.

She went into her little bedroom, and then came out again a minute later wrapped only in a big white bath towel. Then she went into the equally small bathroom, and a few minutes later, I heard cranky old pipes clanking, then the hiss of water.

It was then that I looked down on my leg to see what looked like thousands of little black ants walking around on my thigh. I screamed and jumped up, dancing around. Seconds later, Amy came rushing out of the bathroom.

“What, what, what happened?” she shouted, staring at me. I started crying.

“Ants…ants, all over me!!”

She rushed over. “Okay. Calm down, Jan. Those are just the little regular ants around here, they won’t hurt you, but let’s get them off you.” With that she calmly began undressing me, pulling off my own tee shirt, and slipping my shorts off my hips. While my breasts weren’t anything to write home about, my ass, then as now, was nice and round.

“Pull your bra and panties off, I’ll get you in the shower with me to wash them off,” she said calmly.

I did as instructed, and it was only then that it registered with me that Amy was as naked as me, only wet. Her body was lush and round, gleaming wetly, and as far as I could tell, she smelled like a girl – it was wonderful. The small, hairy patch between her legs transfixed me, and I was nearly paralyzed with excitement.

“C’mon,” she said, waving me over to the bathroom. I hurried over, and slipped under the stream of water.

“Here, I’ll help,” she muttered, putting a dollop of almond-smelling shampoo in my short, blonde hair and briskly working it in, then handing me a small bar of soap. “Start soaping yourself up,” she said. “I’ve got to do me, too, or we’ll be doing this under cold water.”

Somewhere in the soaping up, we decided to help each other, feeling that would speed things up. What happened was, our hands, quickly covering each other’s skin, began to slow down as we realized that we were soaping, massaging, caressing, touching and communing with another cute, naked girl.

And that that was exactly what each of us wanted to be doing.

When that realization struck us both, signaled through our eyes as we looked at each other, our hands slowing, Amy turned off the water, soap suds still dripping thickly down our bodies.

“No point in wasting hot water, huh?” Amy asked quizzically, her face approaching mine. Her lips grazed my cheek, asking permission. I turned my mouth up to hers, and our first kiss was the sweetest thing I had ever felt. The tingle and glow I felt on my lips, raced through my body to my clit – which, I realized, was naked, soapy and which her fingers had briefly caressed, probably accidentally. Probably.

I was about four inches shorter than her, and my arms went around her waist, as hers went around my neck, and we pulled each other closer. Her slick, soapy breasts, pink nipples stiff and erect, pushed into my upper chest, slipping and sliding against my much smaller boobs, my own nipples, chocolate brown, also erect and pushing back into her.

Her vulva pressed into my lower stomach, her trim bush just above my own, less tamed pubic hair. My bush was rubbing into her upper thighs. I pressed my crotch in, wanting to be close to her there, to feel her against me closer and closer. I felt her tongue enter my mouth, my lips parting to allow her in.

I heard moaning, and then realized it was me. I felt her right arm slip under my arm, and her hand caress my slippery back, on its way to my little, round bottom. I had never felt someone’s hand on my bottom – it was so exciting that I gasped from the pleasure of feeling a woman caress my ass. Her fingers made their way from my lower back, fingernails skating along through the soapy residue, defining a fine line down my downy flesh, down to the rising curve of my young, female bottom, hot flesh rising up to meet the desired touch of Amy’s strong fingers.

Her fingers briefly grasped the muscles and fat of my plump bottom, caressing and taking in the pleasure of the female ass, appreciating its sensuality, its warmth and smoothness, its nearness to the intimacy of the female vulva, and anus…I so badly wanted her fingers to continue their sweet explorations.

“Ohhhh…” I moaned, hiding my face in embarrassment between Amy’s chin and chest, the beat of her pulse at her throat so apparent. I was so ashamed that I was excited, naked and unable to hide my excitement and desire, with this strange, beautiful woman that I’d only met hours before. I was ashamed, too, that I had cried before her because of the ants. I wanted to be sensual, exotic, mysterious with this woman who awed me in a way that I had never experienced before, but in my own eyes I had reacted like a needy little girl.

Amy would hate me, and laugh at me. The others in the cabin would find out, and I’d want to die. I could feel my cheeks burning with shame.

Then she kissed me again.

All of my worries just floated away, as I tilted my head up to receive her kiss, to feel her warm, soft lips on me, her hot breath racing over my cheek, her nipples grazing my breasts, and my nipples. I began to appreciate that we were the same, though we were completely different. Her body, female to a fault, curved and lovely, her intimate secrets that she was making available to me. My body, less developed, but no less female, with all the good things that would mean for her…and for me.

I pressed myself within Amy’s embrace, my own fingers working up the courage to explore her lush and fertile body. My right hand slipped down between her legs, her vulva a hot, wet, slick and swampy pit of excitement.

“Ah, yeah,” she encouraged me, as my fingers brushed over her mons. My fingertips became more discerning, slowing and taking the time to enjoy the sensations that they were both feeling and transmitting. Her crotch was so hot, so welcoming. I touched her labia, her fat, fleshy lips soft and loose, her slit between them open, and my finger slipped in easily. Her pussy was the hottest, silkiest thing I had ever felt, and I knew from then on, that I would love exploring and touching that for the rest of my life. Hers, or somebody else’s – I just knew that, if it was pussy, I wanted to touch it, feel it, and whatever else could be done with such a lovely, beautiful organ.

“Slip it in…fuck me,” she urged me, pressing her hand over mine, my fingers slipping in so easily into her hot, wet paradise. As I concentrated on the wondrous pleasure of her silky interior, I was shocked when her fingers entered me. One, long finger slid between my thin, barely existent labia, the feeling of fullness a little uncomfortable at first. When her thumb began fanning over my clitoris, though, any thoughts of discomfort went right out the window, as pleasure streamed through my mid-section.

“Ohhhh…ohhhhh,” I gasped. I had played with myself before, of course, but the pleasure from another girl’s fingers in and around my pussy, far exceeded any pleasure I had ever been able to bring myself. “God,” I moaned, as a second finger joined the first, and her thumb aggressively flicked across my undefended clit.

I tried to imitate her actions, doing to her, what she was doing to me. I could barely believe that I actually had a finger inside a woman’s hot pussy, and hers inside of me! The pleasure was building inside me to an unbelievable extent, filling my fat little clit like water in a balloon. I even looked down to see if it had gotten bigger – of course, it hadn’t, but nonetheless, the ecstasy inside me was swelling me up emotionally until I thought I must burst.

Amy hooked her two fingers inside me, with the tips of her fingers rubbing inside me, behind my clit, and her thumb still caressing my clit. I nearly exploded, as immense pleasure raced through me, radiating throughout my body from my pelvis.

“Ohhh…ohhh…oh god oh god oh god…” I moaned loudly, forgetting to imitate my amazingly beautiful goddess, my fingers slipping out from inside her. She didn’t seem to mind, redoubling her efforts at my pussy, my whole lower body shaking uncontrollably, in the most devastating orgasm I had ever experienced. Her other hand she had presciently clamped on the lower half of my naked ass, holding me up as my legs weakened and gave out, the pleasure from her finger fucking proving to be more than I could manage.

I blacked out momentarily, and then awoke on the floor of the bathroom, in Amy’s warm and sweet arms.

“Are you alright?” she asked, quietly, a slight smile on her face

“Yes…yes, I think,” I stammered. “It’s just, I’ve never felt like that before.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” she asked, her smile broader now.

“Not like that!” I responded emphatically. “I’ve never…um, with a girl…”

“I was your first!” Amy said happily. “You’re just the sweetest girl, Jan.” She kissed my forehead, then my nose, then, pausing until I turned my face up and smiled back, on my mouth, her lips warm and soft on mine, so sweet and nice.

We lay there for a few minutes, then Amy said, “We’ve got to hurry and finish rinsing off. You don’t want yucky dried soap all over us. And then, maybe we could spend some time together?”

She was shyly asking if she could spend time with me? I was flabbergasted – I would have drunk her pee straight from the source then, if she’d asked.

“Okay,” I replied. “I’d like that.” She gently untangled from me, and stood up to turn on the water. The gentle rain fell on us both, washing off the sheen of slick soapiness from our bodies, and I’d be lying if I said that we didn’t both run our hands all over the other. I still couldn’t believe that a grown woman was letting a high school girl touch her, in the most intimate places.

Too soon, we finished, and were both soon reduced to helpless giggles as we tried to dry each other off. We walked, hand in hand again, to Amy’s bed. She pulled back the top sheet, and thin blanket, and I crawled inside, the cotton a little rough, and cool on my naked flesh. Amy crawled in after me, and we snuggled, embracing, our naked hug so exciting and satisfying. Our legs intertwined, and we lay with our heads each on a pillow in the tiny cot, looking at each other.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32