AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a continuation of the first erotic story I've ever had published. It stands on its own, by you really should read the first installment for context, and to understand some of the references contained within. As always, positive comments and constructive criticism are welcomed.
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Michelle tossed and turned in the queen sized bed, trying to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, the scenes from the previous night would start playing again in her head.
Her elegant and sophisticated boss, a woman she described to her mother as a cross between a life-size Barbie Doll, and Mary Poppins, and someone she was hoping to be a life and career mentor, was obviously a whole lot different than she had imagined.
The images of J.J., Julie's handsome Irish husband, forcefully fucking Ms. Covington McGill, while Julie role played being Michelle, kept Michelle from getting any sleep. She blushed with embarrassment at the memory of standing naked in the shadows, unable to pull herself away, and rubbing herself to an orgasm while watching the performance unfold.
Pulling the covers off of her still naked body, she felt the cool night air on her sex, her pussy well lubricated from the replays running through her mind through the night. Running her fingers over her pert nipples, Michelle thought about playing with herself again, but then the thought of having to face Julie and J.J. in the morning hit her, causing an anxious knot to grow in her stomach.
Rolling over toward the nightstand, the red digits on the bedside clock read 3:45 AM.
"Get the fuck out now, while everyone's asleep," came the thought from the rational side of her brain.
"No, if you leave they'll know that you saw," came the reply from the emotional side. While smart and confident, Michelle was a pleaser who hated disappointing anyone, especially authoritative women, like her mom, and Julie.
"Get the fuck out NOW!" came the reply from inside her head, the rational side of her brain not being big on articulate debate.
Michelle swung her legs over the side of the bed, arched her back, and stretched her arms high above her head. While the night before may have been weird, this was one of the most comfortable beds, with the most expensive sheets, that she's ever been in, and it certainly beat the hell out of the crappy full size mattress she's been using since middle school.
Leaning forward, she snagged the light blue bra off the back of the chair that sat in front of a rolltop desk, clasping it in front, then spinning it around her torso, tucking her breasts inside, and sliding her arms thru the straps.
Scanning the room, her matching light blue panties were nowhere to be found.
"SHIT!" she said aloud, then covered her mouth to keep from waking anyone, the image from the night before, of Julie wearing the panties while being fucked by J.J., flashed through her head.
"She can't still have them, can she?" Michelle thought to herself, as she walked across the guest room, and opened the door a crack, peeking out into the dark living room. Confident that nobody else was awake, Michelle slipped out into the living room, in just her bra, hunting for the matching garment to her favorite Victoria's Secret set.
She stood silently, staring at the spot in the middle of the living room, where everything took place just a few hours ago, and a shudder ran through her body. She looked on the fireplace hearth, the small table next to J.J.'s chair, the couch, but saw no trace of the powder blue bikinis.
Not one to easily give up, Michelle got on her hands and knees, and checked under the couch and J.J.'s chair, somewhat oblivious to the fact that except her bra, she was buck-ass naked. To see under the couch, she had to put the left side of her face on the floor, with her ass high in the air for balance, her arm sweeping under the couch in hopes of feeling the silky blue material.
What she found, however, was something entirely different. In her determined search, she never heard J.J. enter the room, until she heard his melodic brogue. "Looking for these?" he asked, startling the young woman.
Michelle emitted a shriek of surprise,, and quickly spun herself around, planting her ass on the living room carpet, and leaning back against the couch. This put her in a position of looking eye to eye with J.J's erection, as he moved closer to his guest, stroking himself with the light blue panties wrapped around his thick shaft.
"Where's Julie?" asked Michelle, watching his cock lengthen and harden as he continued to rub.
"It's not Julie that has me so hard," replied J.J., his cock head nearly touching Michelle's cheek at this point.
Michelle sat stunned on the living room floor. Her gaze was locked on J.J.'s piercing emerald eyes, and her mouth watered at the sight of his raging hard on. She felt the wetness returning to her pussy, but was concerned about getting caught, and ending her career, before it even started.
"I'm flattered, J.J., I really am," Michelle stammered, and internal fight going on in her brain between taking full advantage of the situation in front of her, and her code of sisterhood, which kept her from fooling around with a friend's partner or spouse. "But I really should be going," she added, biting her lower lip.
"Then take what you've been looking for and go, hun," J.J. replied, while putting his hands on his hips, and thrusting his hips forward, his cock head brushing Michelle's face, leaving a streak of precum on her cheek. The smell of his cum, and the feeling of it on her flesh, triggered Michelle's inner whore, and shot her sisterhood code to hell.
Without thinking, Michelle reached out and grabbed her blue panties, but instead of removing them from his member, she tightened her grip, and started to stroke, still gazing into his loving green eyes.
A warm, wet droplet of pre-cum hit Michelle's forearm, which immediately transported her thoughts and sensations from seven years ago. "It's 'Mitchette' all over again," she said in a breathy, reminiscent tone, remembering the events that transpired the summer after her sophomore year in school.
Keith Manuel was the crush of every girl in the school, including Michelle. A junior, and captain of the lacrosse team, Keith stood 6 foot 5 inches, with broad shoulders and a muscular chest, and a perennially sloppy mass of blonde curly hair on the top of his head. And if the rumors were to be believed, he was supposedly hung like a horse.
But apart from the adonis physique, Keith was not your typical jock. He was a sensitive, caring individual, who interacted with the nerds, goths, and gearheads as easily and as often as he would with the jocks and cheerleaders.
Michelle and Keith both worked at the local cineplex, and became fast friends. They shared mutual ball-busting and flirtatious innuendos to pass the boring periods when everyone was in the theaters watching the movies, and then worked their tails off in between. As things progressed over the summer, they started going out, and Keith was always a gentleman,
Then came the night of July 31st. Keith would be going away to a two week lacrosse camp the next morning, and Michelle knew this was probably the night they would take their relationship to a new level. After a great day of water skiing on the lake, and sitting around a bonfire on the beach, Keith offered to drive Michelle home, and they both climbed into his mother's minivan.
Keith turned onto Michelle's street, but drove past her house, and parked the van in the wooded area outside the playground at the end of Willow Drive. This was their favorite make out spot, and they both eagerly climbed into the back.
Kissing lead to petting, and Keith moved his hand under Michelle's sundress, and started to rub her pussy through her panties. Previous attempts at this maneuver had always been thwarted by Michelle, but not on this night. She moaned into his mouth at his touch, and spread her legs a little wider, inviting him to continue.
Keith proceeded to rub her pussy and clit over the white cotton material, building up the courage to make his next move.
