Megan was a large woman. Which was not to say she was in any way overweight. She was simply very tall and proportionally large -- and she was mouthwateringly gorgeous. The other women certainly thought so, and from what they could gather, so did all men. Her body was the kind you'd find painted on the side of a World War Two bomber. Being a large woman, when she was very hot, which seemed to be all the time, she naturally plunged two, not one, long fingers deep into her slick and willing vagina. That's just one of the many things that Christine and Elizabeth had learned over these many meetings of the group: just one of the secrets the friends shared. This particular group was special in that way.
At the moment, they were seated in a casual circle in the well-appointed living room of Liz's Manhattan high rise -- the cityscape just outside the windows, twinkling as if a bucket of diamonds had been thrown into the darkness, was only the backdrop to the constant sounds of the city.
Their meetings began as just two loyal friends supporting Liz. But over the years they had become a regular sensual ritual. Liz is the CEO of the free erotica website; lizerotica.com -- the top erotica site on the web. It had started out modestly enough, but just as its growth had taken off, what was once a pleasure in the beginning, the process of reviewing and processing each of the submissions, had suddenly so overwhelmed Liz, that things would have gone quite astray had her two friends not shown up and offered to help with the reviews. She had eventually managed to land some professional editors. But before that, evening after evening, they had gathered at Liz's place, sipping wine as they waded through stacks of submissions.
Reading erotic stories in the company of two hot ladies and drinking wine didn't seem like a particularly bad way to spend the evening anyway. That was Christine's first thought when Megan had first suggested the idea. And though there was certainly the occasional slog, for the most part, she was right. The truth of the matter was, that much more quickly than she expected, she had found herself getting achingly aroused as, her red pen in hand, she read through the many submissions. More than once, when she thought no one was looking, she had tapped that pen against the crotch of her jeans, just over her clit. In fact, she would never admit to this, but she had secretly masturbated in her car, just after their very first meeting.
The gatherings had become less frequent once the new senior editors were on board, but they continued to meet every other Thursday night. Rather than read the usual spectrum of submissions, Liz collected what she expected to be the hottest new submissions to share with these two special sisters. The meetings were an oasis in her hectic life as a CEO, giving her some needed girl time, and also giving her a direct channel to the sexual heat she was constantly working to curate into Lizerotica. They also gave her a chance to return to the reason she had even made it to this position -- she loved to read dirty stories, a pleasure she was able to rekindle here, no matter what was going on at the office. Yes, it was exactly as people thought when they first met her and found out what she did for a living, she loved reading dirty stories.
Many of the submitting writers probably imagined their pieces being reviewed by lusciously gorgeous women, and in the beginning it had been true, but now, save for a select few, they were mostly read by a small army of subcontracted workers, managed by a balding nearsighted man with a goatee, and a chain-smoking ex-truck driver in the middle of a career change - talented editors both of them.
Their meetings had sustained themselves not only because the material was particularly high quality -- Liz did have a talent for this after all, but simply said, the gatherings themselves had become fucking hot.
Megan, in the largess of her lustiness (and really, who could blame any creature who inhabited that luscious body?), had been the first to give in. It had been a very long evening of reading, the three empty wine bottles on the coffee table attested to that. It had not escaped the notice of the two other ladies that after reading one piece -- twice -- she had nonchalantly slipped a hand down between her legs, discretely stroking the crotch of her always tight and revealing yoga pants. After sharing a knowing glance, the other two continued to sneak peeks at her as they pretended to focus on their respective stories, neither of which could compete with the hot scene unfolding before them. Megan's hand stayed there through that story and part of the next. Their pretending was over, however, when Megan let escape an extended moan. They both looked up to see her fingering herself with abandon as she raised both her feet off the floor and came large -- as Megan would, bucking and writhing in her chair. She rode the orgasmic waves without shame, a tribute to pleasure, womanhood, lust, and a very hot story. Liz made sure she forwarded that one to the rest of the group.
After that, it became absolutely acceptable to diddle one's crotch while reading. It wasn't long before each of them had orgasmed at least once in front of the others. It was simply a hazard of the job.
The ladies had even followed suit when Liz began greeting them at her apartment door, wearing little more than a long t-shirt, panties -- and nothing else. In response, it seemed perfectly natural for the other two to remove their pants at the beginning of each session. They spent many nights with Liz sitting on the floor with her legs open wide as her fingers played lightly over the folds of the crotch of her white cotton panties, where they bunched before descending into her well-toned crack.
Brassieres were the next to go, as clearly they were impediments to appreciating a truly good work when it came by. Liz and Meghan both loved the way that when Christine was getting hot, her candy drop nipples poked out from the soft material of her tank top, sometimes snagging the material in a way that made the other two salivate
"You'd think that every single woman on the planet walked around with 36DDs!", was what started another memorable evening. Liz had made the offhand comment just as she was starting in on a new story. Sighing, Christine admitted that she; "Just loved 36DDs." This inspired Megan to slip off her top, to the amazement of the other two women. For a moment, they stared at Megan's two luscious mounds, standing free and proud, jiggling ever so alluringly with every motion she made. Holding her chest out, and perching herself on the edge of the couch, she motioned for Christine to slide in behind her and see for herself what she thought of hers. After hesitating for the briefest of moments, Christine climbed up on the couch, snuggling in behind the living sex doll. She hoped she wasn't too obvious as she savored the smell of Megan, and the temperature of her skin, as she slid both her hands around her, her fingers curling over the succulent globes. She gently lifted them, respectfully testing their impressive weight. Liz thought Megan was getting into it. "These are 34Cs, and I'm quite proud of them.", responded Megan, and rightly so. "You don't have to be so gentle, just give them a nice squeeze."
Who could resist?
