In the examination room, she asked me some general questions about my health and did her examining most delicately. She touched me softly-and just slightly more than necessary. While I disrobed, she eagerly helped me and complimented me on my perfect body. More than once her soft fingers touched my skin. When my doctor walked in, Katrina stayed in the room and watched the entire time as he did his examination. On my way out, I scribbled my telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
Katrina called me that evening, and we had a long conversation about our sexual lifestyles. She’d been married for a few years, and divorced after she discovered her interest in women. Paul overheard our conversation and demonstratively licked his lips. I invited Katrina to our house the next day. Physically we hit it off right away. We embraced and kissed. Her full lips felt soft and velvety. We looked at each other and laughed and kissed again. This time she gently opened her mouth and cupped my lips. The tip of her tongue lightly brushed back and forth. Soon we were French-kissing and exploring each other’s mouths with slow, loving strokes.
The lower part of my body turned into quivering jelly as my pussy heated up and became increasingly wet. Katrina’s hands explored my back and finally seized my butt cheeks, pulling my pelvis into hers. I gently disengaged myself, and asked, “Bedroom?” Katrina nodded and followed me down the hallway. Sitting on the king-size bed we undressed each other, kissing and fondling. Her luscious breasts were white as snow, with light brown large, firm nipples. I lowered my head to lick and suck them.
“Suck hard,” she moaned. With one hand she kneaded my own globes and with the other she searched between my legs. When I spread my thighs to give her access, my slit was already very wet and open. I felt the cool air and then the touch of her finger. She lightly rubbed the outer lips, sending shivers of delight through my body. With her wet finger she stroked lower over the bridge between my vagina and anus and back across the pouting lips. Then farther down, she rimmed my puckered asshole. I was hot and ready to explode into nirvana. Her tongue was still deeply exploring my mouth when suddenly she inserted two fingers into my cunt, and with her thumb on my clit, pushed me over the edge into another world. I came in waves of delicious emotions.
Wanting to repay Katrina’s sweetness, I pushed her onto her back on the bed, knelt, and started to caress her thighs with my hands and tongue, licking my way up to the central part of her sex. With broad strokes I lapped up her flowing juices, evoking a sigh every time I touched her clit. Then she pulled her legs up into the air, spread wide open, and wiggled her body up and down, meeting my tongue thrusts. I increased the pressure until finally she let out a long, hoarse wail.
We embraced and relaxed. While she caressed me, I asked if she would stay until evening and meet Paul. Mischievously she asked, “For an encore?”
She helped me cook dinner and was the most gracious guest ever to dine at our table. Paul was enamored of her; I could see the lust in his eyes. After the meal we agreed to “play.” What a show Katrina and I put on for Paul. When at last we engaged in a hot sixty-nine, Paul could wait no longer. He maneuvered himself into position and entered me from behind while Katrina was still licking my pussy and clitoris. With firm, steady strokes he fucked me until we both climaxed with joyous cries. Katrina, we found, was not completely averse to men. She let Paul fuck her repeatedly. It was a night full of ecstatic sex all around. Since that day, Katrina has become our frequent bedroom partner and companion.
— S. V., California
Tanning with Sandi
A few months ago I had the most amazing experience. After spending last summer with my relatives in California and being on the beach almost every day playing volleyball and working out, when it was time to go home to get ready for my last semester in college, all I could think about was leaving that great weather and losing the tan I had worked so hard to get.
I’d been home a couple of weeks when I decided it was time to try out a tanning shop near campus. One evening after class I put on my new bikini, under a sweatshirt and pants, and walked down to the tanning shop. The woman at the counter was very friendly. She was about thirty, very attractive, and about five-foot-eight, with long red hair and nails and a beautiful tan. I couldn’t help noticing that her ample breasts were straining against her T-shirt, and her nipples were clearly visible. Her name read “Sandra,” but she insisted that I call her Sandi.
Sandi gave me a tour of the shop. Then we settled down in one of the tanning rooms. She said we had to figure out my skin type so I would know what setting to use on the tanning bed. When she asked me to remove my sweatshirt I hesitated for a moment. Sandi smiled and put her hand on my knee, saying, “It’s okay, honey. I do this every day.”
I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and dropped it on the massage table. Sandi smiled and started to hold some photos up against me, one at a time. She told me about how careful people with sensitive skin have to be in a tanning bed. “Here, look at this one,” she said, holding a photo of freckled skin next to her chest. I could see her own freckles as they disappeared into her cleavage. “Redheads like me can do only a couple minutes at a time.”
Finally, she had me narrowed down to two skin types. “Let’s see your tan lines,” she said. “That will help me figure this out.” Slowly, I stood up and began to remove my sweatpants. As I struggled to pull them over my sneakers, I noticed that Sandi was watching very closely. I turned around to put my pants on the massage table, and as I started to turn back, she put a hand on my hip, and said, “Hold it. This is just what I wanted to see.” She held one of the photos up against my bottom and gently ran a long red fingernail along the tan lines. “Hmm,” she said, putting the photos down and gently placing a hand on each cheek, “I think this is just right.”
She scratched, squeezed, rubbed, and gently pinched every inch of each of my mostly bare cheeks. I stood perfectly still, afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe. Then Sandi hooked one finger in the back of my G-string and gently but firmly pulled it tight. A shiver ran through my entire body as the thin fabric snuggled into my crotch. My knees felt weak and I had to bend over and lean on the massage table to keep from falling. I felt Sandi’s hands on my hips, and as she held me her nails dug slightly into my thighs. Her breath and lips on my bottom soon canceled any apprehension I might have had.
Her fingers worked their way under the sides of my bikini bottom, and as she kissed and nibbled my butt cheeks, she slowly slid off my thong. Then she turned me around and sat me on the massage table. Now we were face-to-face, and the lust in her eyes must have matched my own. She leaned closer and kissed me. Not one of those tentative first-date kisses. Sandi covered my mouth with hers and drove her tongue in until it seemed to wrap around mine. Our arms went around each other. I held on as much to keep from collapsing as with desire. I could feel her pillowlike breasts squeezed tightly against my own.
I didn’t even notice it, but somehow her fingers had unsnapped my bikini top. The small triangles of fabric and string fell away, exposing my tiny tits. To my surprise, my nipples were bigger and redder than I had ever seen them. Immediately, Sandi’s mouth covered my entire left breast while her devilishly red nails went to work on my right. She pinched and bit and sucked and lavished my breasts like no boyfriend had ever done. She knew what a girl likes to feel. My head fell back, and I had a small orgasm. I heard myself moan as goose bumps popped up all over my body.