A Rainy Night in L. A.

As the night wears on, the spacious room becomes the only light on in the short row at the luxury hotel. On a business trip, I'm alone with my thoughts... and the sound of the rain just outside the door. For some reason, the television's sound isn't working correctly. Feeling a bit inventive, I turn off the sound and power up my laptop's media player and tune to one of the zillion internet stations pumping out smooth jazz. And, as is my practice whenever possible, I shed all clothing except my underwear. While I'm no male model, I'm most comfortable wearing a thong or g-string. That slight friction of the material against my asshole keeps me mindful of the pleasure my smooth cock and total package enjoys as I bask in the erotic heat always moments away at any time.

Lying back on the couch, I notice that the movie station is playing "A Few Good Men" and for some reason, I can't keep my eyes off Demi Moore. "Must be the lack of dialogue," I mumble to myself. "Who cares; I've seen this thing more times than I can count. And, man, Demi is looking better all the time in that white uniform. Even with the crisp pressing, the top she's wearing can't stop her nipples from bursting through. Mmmmm... I can just imagine bending her over that table, hiking up that skirt, and taking her right there!"

I feel the surge of heat creating the tension in my lower extremity, and my hand moves to feel the bulge rising easily and eagerly, straining against the fabric. Feeling the moisture on the front seeping through, I reach inside and release the thickness, tucking the underwear under my balls so that they pull forward slightly (while still hanging low in the sac), even as the thin waistband adds support to the engorging flesh resting on the band at its fleshy, shaven underside base. Feeling that push against the back of my balls, together with my left hand now caressing and lightly scratching the hanging balls, the sensation of smoothness of my engorging cock begs attention from my right hand.

As fingers wrap lightly around the flesh, the throbbing tube pushes higher to the sky even as it grows more stiff from the caresses. Moving my right hand as close to the base as possible, my thumb and forefinger wrap tightly around the pole while the palm pushes against the sac and forces the balls downward. The effect is intense as the veins in the rigid stake bulge and the balls push the sac into a taut position. But that's not all: the pleasure increase urges me to slump lower in the couch, resulting in the horizontal fabric of my thong catching on the edge of the couch. Consequently, the only part of the thong to absorb the pressure is that strip resting against my asshole. I revel in the added sensation of my self-induced assplay and a pleasured "Ooooohhhhhhhhh" escapes my lips.

Just then, with my manhood at full attention and my mind swimming in the possibilities of giving relief to the engorged flesh, I'm interrupted by what seems to be the sound of a familiar voice outside the door. "No way," I think to myself, "it can't be."

"She's talking to somebody," I realize as I lean forward, reaching for something - anything -- to cover myself. Having had a light workout earlier, the only thing my hands can find is the tight Spandex shorts I normally wear beneath the regular athletic shorts during my workouts (but had failed to bring because of the weather... I'd stayed inside and worked on my abs). "What the hell," I think to myself, sliding the form-fitting material up both legs, over my readied package, and finish at the waist. Given the way they fit, I reach down and adjust the crotch by pulling it up to avoid the "drooping pantyhose" look, and consequently I completely and inadvertently mold the stretching fabric around every dimension of my package. No question about it, anyone with any vision can see my cock is aching to fire the steamy fluid waiting in my balls. However, I'm not wasting any time, because the knock on the door and the other (also vaguely familiar) voice add to the sense of urgency of the moment.

"Damn, it's raining!" the second voice announces with a funny sense of the obvious wrapped into her tone. "And I can't believe I left without any kind of jacket or an umbrella," she almost laughs out.

As I open the door, the first voice, also a woman, is sympathizing. "Those bastards have totally sent us into a tailspin, Meg. Hell, Bruce drove me damn near crazy with his antics, and Russell got you so you don't know if you're coming or going, fucking you over with Nicole...," her voice trailing off slightly as she turns to look at whoever is opening the door.

Facing away and therefore unaware that the door nearest her has opened, the other takes a deep breath, sighs, and thinks out loud, "Yeah, living life in the public eye is such a bitch." She wipes the rain from her face and runs her fingers through her dripping and seemingly unruly hair as she whispers, "Oh, what I wouldn't give for a just a couple hours where nobody makes a big deal about my image." As her fingers finish passing through the streaked blonde tips, she shakes her head, sending water flying in all directions, but not affecting the playful look of her hairstyle. I can't help but notice how her breasts lifted slightly, causing her nipples to protrude against her equally wet white T-shirt.

There, standing in front of me are two soaking wet images who look to me like Demi Moore and Meg Ryan. Stunned, I can only listen to the one who looks like Demi say with a Demi-like breathiness and slight crack in her voice, "Hey, girlfriend, who'd have imagined we'd both end up breaking down at the same intersection?"

The blonde turns and faces her, "Yeah. Quite a coincidence, isn't it?" she follows, moving quickly to her friend and giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek, the kind close friends are never embarrassed to have anyone else nearby see.

And as they both turn to look at the face of the one who opened the door, I realize I'm not wrong. They are Demi and Meg! Quickly gathering my composure as best I can, I attempt to calmly invite them out of the rain and cool night air, "Oh, ladies, please come in out of the weather!" I nearly blurt out, feeling like a fool for sounding what seems to me like a doting butler.

The two women momentarily pause, looking at each with that look that only women understand: a kind of blend initially involving concern for personal safety, quickly gaining strength (because, since there are two of them, they can take care of any real problems that might arise), and shifting rapidly to mutually recognized and equally shared control of the situation. As the slight smiles crease their faces and they begin to move forward, the back of Meg's pointer and middle fingers on her left hand almost imperceptibly brush Demi's right inner thigh just above the hem of the lightweight miniskirt as Meg passes in front of her friend and begins into the door. I hear Demi's excited gasp as her body momentarily absorbs and revels in the sensual interplay. Having paused to allow Meg to pass in front of her, Demi's right hand coyly slides down beyond Meg's waist, and I hear the sound of fingernails grazing the wet fabric covering the lower left side of Meg's ass as she saunters in. Meg fights back the chuckle wanting to make its way from her lips, but can't avoid the "Hmmmmm..." which involuntarily escapes her throat and reverberates out her mouth.

Stepping inside, they both make a quick once-over of their host, and the additional curve in their smiles as they scan my crotch tells me they are fully aware of my aroused state. I try to ignore the obvious bulge I'm sporting, but I'm completely aware that it is remaining exactly as it has been for several minutes prior, and if anything, it seems to have a life of its own: as my cock quivers with pleasure at the sight before me, my balls pull tight and forward then relax slightly. In doing so, they move slightly backward toward my body and also "fall" some; therefore, the fabric clings tightly to the pair -- which makes the movement so much more obvious.

These two women, very different in their screen personas, don't mind any of this in the least. In fact, both are showing obvious signs of arousal themselves. Neither had even considered the possibility of rain when leaving for their destinations, but this fluke led to this moment. It was a warm Southern California day rudely interrupted by a freak rainstorm. In an area the size of Metro L.A., it can take an hour to drive somewhere you normally go, and the large population allows even highly visible people to be somewhat anonymous. Consequently, both women dressed very casually. Meg, never to be confused for a tom-boy, had just slipped on the medium weight, loose but fitted, cotton T-shirt, not worrying about a bra. And with the temperature at a just-above-comfortable 89 degrees, she tucked that T into one of her favorite thread-bare pair of short denim shorts - the kind that don't look she's been poured into them, but which through many wearings look molded to her, accenting her cute ass and hinting at her flourishing womanhood. Demi, returning from an evening in Malibu, also went without a bra and wore a lightweight cotton sleeveless top which buttoned the entire length. She had it tucked into the also-lightweight button-up miniskirt; and as is her custom, she had unbuttoned the top three buttons, allowing completely free air circulation around her luscious breasts as well as arousal-producing eye-candy with her freely displayed cleavage.

Neither knew the other would be at the intersection at the moment they both arrived, nor did either expect any problems - let alone the rain which had begun to fall some thirty minutes earlier. Instead of having to worry about someone driving poorly in rain conditions, they were both shocked when their individual cars suddenly began to sputter as they unknowingly approached each other from opposite directions on the freeway. With both making their way off the freeway onto the frontage roads and then turning toward the services listed on the freeway signs, they were too busy looking for auto help to notice the other. Finally, as Demi's Porsche barely made it to the empty parking lot of the unfinished upscale shops across the intersection from my hotel, Meg's BMW pulled in right beside her. Demi had forgotten to charge the battery in her cell phone, so it was dead, and Meg had completely walked out the door without hers. Even when they first stopped, neither of them realized it was the other. Only when Demi opened her door and stepped out into the cool evening rain beating down did Meg recognize her. Climbing out of her car, Meg could not combat the torrential downpour any better than Demi.

Although they tried using their little handbags to keep the rain off their heads, they rapidly lost that battle. Within seconds, their clothing became completely soaked. However, they bask in the spontaneity of such opportunity, and they are friends -- each appreciating the other's unique beauty and skills. Even as they stood outside their cars, the frustration of the moment passed, and they began to laugh as if they were once again little girls swept up in the magic of being young. As the rain fell, drenching them, they threw their arms back and looked up, laughing like they hadn't for several years. And their clothing no longer absorbed the water, causing their skin to show through 95% of their tops. As Demi looked over at Meg standing in the rain and looking like a college girl who had entered a wet T-shirt contest, she felt something she hadn't ever imagined: aroused by this cute blonde.

When she looked at Meg with a hint of lust, she became quiet in a way Meg had never seen her, which intrigued Meg. As Meg turned to face Demi, she saw her in a new light as well: a hot, lusty woman. She saw how Demi's body invited all to look and enjoy. She felt a unique compulsion to rush to and lovingly stroke, fondle, and lick Demi's breasts. They knew, however, that if they were seen pleasuring each other in public, they would have to pay too high of a price. Looking across the intersection, they saw the sign to the hotel and the one light still on. They had no idea they would find me here, listening to jazz and looking at Demi in that uniform, wanting to slide it up and fuck her. But here they are, and we are all showing the signals of wanting to enjoy the pleasures of tender flesh.

I have seen beautiful and sexually powerful women naked before and have given them great sexual pleasure. However, this is a first for me. As these two women stand before me, I can only marvel at the sight and thought of what we are doing. Water drips off their bodies, their shirts still showing nearly all their flesh, their skin racing with the contrast of the cold where they were and the heat of the room. Because they are not yet warm, their nipples are hard and erect. Their shirts still cling to them, perfectly outlining their breasts, bellies, and backs. They see my lust, and smile with the face that says, "Yes, you will have what you desire... in due time." I know tonight will end well, for they are telling me so.

Demi almost pleads as she briefly shakes. "May we use the shower? These clothes are so wet and cold that I'm starting to shiver."

I can't help but comply. "Of course! Please! And you are free to use anything I have with me." I reach into my bag and remove a bottle of body oil. "I know you'll love this: all natural sensuous body oil. Your skin will bask in its own tenderness, and half the pleasure is putting it on!"

They look at me, then at each other. Meg looks at me and flashes that smile I've seen her give dozens of times in the movies, and I know she is contented with how this is developing. And she does something I've only fantasized about: she steps to me, reaches out, and with her right hand lightly strokes my cock with the tips of her fingernails, even while it's bound by Spandex. The body oil falls from my hand onto the top of my travel bag. One more touch like that and I could cum right there....

I watch, fascinated, as they remove each other's clothing. Meg faces Demi and begins to slowly unbutton her skin-tight top, the water still dripping off her face, onto her shoulders, down her breasts, and dropping from her nipple to the floor. After Meg pulls the sheer cotton top out of Demi's miniskirt, she unbuttons the last two buttons and reaches her hands inside the blouse. As her hands move up and out, Demi's perfect tits are unveiled, her nipples still fully erect and her breasts beginning to swell from the encroaching excitement working over her entire body. She closes her eyes and in her trademark semi-hoarse voice she moans, "Oh how I've wondered what it would be to have a woman make love with me. My body is pulsing from this pleasure, it's so good!"

With Demi relishing the pleasure, she reaches out and takes Meg's face in her hands. Moving close, she turns her own head so that as her lips meet Meg's and her tongue reaches out to caress Meg's lips she may do so without interference. Still just inches away, and standing topless before her friend, Demi's hands release her lover's face, moving down the contours at her shoulders, gently gliding along the outer curve of her breasts, and down her firm belly to where Meg's T-shirt finds its way into her shorts. Fighting the impulse to grab the bottom of the shirt at the sides and pull, Demi's fingers deftly tuck inside, behind and around the top button of Meg's shorts, gently releasing the button. As Meg gasps in pleasure, Demi slowly slides the zipper far enough to release the tension holding the wet T-shirt in, but does not take it all the way down. She is holding the tension in balance for her friend's pleasure. Demi tells Meg to raise her arms, and she complies with the order, slightly raising the T-shirt so her creamy white skin shows by an inch or so.

As Meg stands facing her friend, Demi's hands spread wide around the bottom of the shirt. With her hands between Meg's skin and the wet T-shirt, Demi begins to peel away the wet shirt from Meg's belly, sides, and back. As her hands move further up Meg's torso, the flesh on her fingers come into contact with the sides of Meg's perky tits, and pausing in her journey to remove the dripping T-shirt, her thumbs work around to where she lightly caresses the cute blonde's nipples. Meg moans in her building pleasure, her fingers running through her own hair - like she did in "When Harry Met Sally" - except this time the pleasure is real. After tantalizing Meg with those touches that send pulsing waves straight to her clitoris, Demi continues her quest to free her friend's upper body from the bondage of her restriction: clothing. Demi's hands slide the shirt all the way over Meg's head, quickly tossing it over her back.

As Meg stands topless before her, Demi takes her fingernails and runs them down Meg's sides. Then, placing her hands on Meg's hips, she quickly moves in, taking first the left, then the right, breast into her mouth and suckles each with passion, care, and tenderness. Meg's smile tells Demi she is pleased, and Demi stands up straight, moving directly to her friend, and hugs her, their bare breasts pressed together in the heated embrace. Loosening from Meg just enough to look deep into her eyes, Demi presses her crotch into Meg as she holds the back of her head and presses her lips onto Meg's. The blonde does not fight this in the least, but in fact matches passion for passion as their kisses sound like animals going after each other. Demi's head slides to Meg's neck, where she begins to lightly bite her fiery blonde bombshell.

However, Meg is not finished. She kneels down and reaches around behind Demi, where she begins rather forcefully running her fingernails them up the back of her legs. As Demi again moans, Meg's hands glide up Demi's ass, discovering their shared secret: they both love wearing thongs. As Meg caresses Demi's smooth, tight buttcheeks with her nails, Demi's hips begin to sway as if she is being taken up in orgasm. Her moaning shouts her pleasure, and she reaches up to her breasts, caressing all over and pinching her nipples. However, Meg is a skilled lover, even though she has never been intimate with a woman. Kneeling in front of Demi, she carefully undoes each button on the skirt until it simply falls to the floor. She leans into Demi and begins to kiss her at her lower belly just above where her thong rides, on the joint where her hips and upper thigh meet, and up and down her strong sexy thighs. Demi's eyes are closed and she waivers in the pleasure being given her. The scent of her woman-musk fills the room, and the dripping darkening on the lower front of her thong bears witness to her pleasure.

Meg reaches up with her left hand, and facing Demi, slowly slides her fingers between the right edge of the thong and Demi's shaven mound, causing her to shake and whimper in delight. Sliding her fingers downward, she then begins pulling the front of the thong away from Demi's heated tenderbox. Exposing her shaven mound, Meg slowly begins to lick the inner thigh on Demi's left leg, moving slowly toward her sex. When she reaches the quivering tenderness, Meg very lightly - and only once - runs her tongue from the lowest point she can reach to the barely hidden button of Demi's clitoris. There, she presses from the top with her tongue in order to not irritate or cause pain to Demi's magic button. Demi nearly swoons from pleasure, but Meg stands up, effectively pausing the direct pleasuring. She stands facing Demi at her right side and reaches her right hand between the front of Demi's thong and her skin and pushes her left hand between Demi's ass and the thong. In doing so, her left hand slides down across Demi's asshole to pull the thong away from her body. Again, Demi moans, knowing the pleasure of another woman's touch to her extrasensitive asshole, an experience she relishes. Meg's hands push the thong straight down, and within seconds Demi is completely naked, her pussy quivering and pulsating in extreme anticipation.