I woke up the next morning (sadly next to my husband) with a faint sense of regret in my mind. Not that because I had cheated on my husband, but because I hadn't slept with the girl I really wanted. Irene was hot, and even sexier when I thought about her the next day, but she wasn't the girl I wanted to take to bed every night. That was Amber. Even though she had introduced me to Irene, and encouraged me to let Irene be my first, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had betrayed her.
When I thought about it, it was silly. Amber wanted me to fuck Irene, and even though Amber knew (or at least suspected) how much I wanted her, she hadn't seized the opportunity. Or I hadn't pushed the issue. Either way, it seemed unlikely that I would get my chance anytime soon.
Rolling out of bed (away from my husband), I decided to start the day off by following through with the promise I made Irene the night before: Call her. I didn't know the rules about calling the girl who just tongue-fucked you silly, but I wanted to taste her again. If I shut my eyes and concentrated, I thought I could just barely catch her rich scent in my hair.
Stepping into the shower, I naturally let my mind wander to the events of the evening before. Me turning up at Irene's apartment, searching for pussy. Getting my pussy licked by a woman for the first time. A woman making me cum for the first time. My first time licking another woman's pussy. My first time making another woman cum. As I thought about it all, I let my hands wander over my body. I started at my breasts, stroking them, rolling my nipples between two fingers before sliding them down my stomach.
I tossed my head back, wetting my hair as I let my fingers keep moving down. It had been too long since I had felt as good as last night, and I couldn't remember the last time I had been turned on enough to play in the shower. Biting my lip in anticipation, I parted my lips, exposing my hardened clit to the trails of water dripping down my torso. Moaning, I let the water fall around it, imagining that the wet heat was Irene's tongue caressing me.
"Mmm...that's it, lick me. Lick my pussy clean, make me cum. I need it, need it so bad," I whispered. Rocking my hips, I let the water cascade down my legs, dreaming that it was my pussy juices, my present to my lover. I couldn't hold myself back any longer, and I let myself finally touch my clit, fingers reaching down, stroking it firmly, but lovingly. "That's right, right there, right there Irene, touch me, don't stop," I said, louder, beginning to embrace my fantasy. I rolled my fingers around my clit, teasing myself, just like I imagined she would do.
After what seemed like an eternity of playing, I felt my climax coming over me. My cunt tightened, my clit throbbed, and waves of sweet relief poured over me. In a wordless moan, I came, knees buckling and pulse racing. I sighed happily, letting the water fall against me.
When I was finally done basking in my afterglow, I did somehow manage to get clean. It wasn't easy. I could have spent the whole day touching myself and daydreaming about licking pussy and having mine licked. I was developing an obsession with girls, their bodies, and the way they made me feel. On some level, I knew I was treading a fine line. I had a sleeping husband in the other room, but I was too hooked on the idea of burying my face in Irene (or preferably Amber) to resist.
"You're such a slut for pussy," I told myself as I toweled off, blushing a deep red as I thought it. "Such a nasty, dirty slut for cunt." I couldn't lie to myself; I wanted more so badly.
However, there is a downside to waking up on a weekend day before your husband and daydreaming about pussy: It's very hard to select a sexy outfit for yourself (and whatever girl you hope to see it) without him getting the wrong idea (in this case, that it's for him.) So I had to make do with jeans and a plain blue top. I did manage to sneak on some sexy underwear, lacy and red, with little cutouts on the hips, with a matching bra. My husband wouldn't be seeing that.
At that point, the hours started to crawl by. I assumed, rightly or wrongly, that I wasn't the last girl on Irene's dance card last night. That didn't bother me, even though I thought it would. I always had jealousy issues with my husband's female friends, and it was a relief to realize that when it came to Irene, it was physical first and foremost. If we became friends, great, but I mostly just wanted to fuck her. Amber, on the other hand, I dreamed about in a different way. All my visits to her club had just reinforced the idea in my mind that there was something special about her, something worth capturing if I could.
Finally, when eleven that morning rolled around, I couldn't hold back. Shaking, I picked up my cell and dialed Irene's number. It rang, once, twice, three times, before I heard a woman's voice – obviously just waking up – on the other end.
"Mmph...Hello? This...Irene."
"Oh, Irene, it's Audrey. We...uh...fucked yesterday. Well, you'd know that when I said my name. I think. This is coming out all wrong. Um...let me start again. Irene, this is Audrey. I had a great time yesterday."
I heard laughter on the other end. "Well, now that we have that sorted out," she said, "I should let you know that I did too. So much so that I had some very nice dreams about it all. You were so cute, it being your first time and all."
I blushed. "Well, the real reason I was calling...I want to see you again." I dropped my voice. "And by see, I mean lick your pussy until you cum all over my face like the slut I see in the mirror this morning."
"Now that sounds like a date worth having. I have some things to take care of, mostly my pussy. I don't think I can wait until you get here to take care of that."
It was my turn to laugh. "Oh really? I turn you on just that much?"
"Yep." She giggled. "Want to listen? Want to hear what happens when you turn me on?"
I gasped. I wasn't prepared for that offer. Somehow I had thought that in the light of a new day all of these feelings (on both sides) would have gone away and it would have been a one-time indiscretion on my part.
"Come on," she said, "you know you want to. I'm sure you've buzzed your pussy one way or the other this morning."
"In the shower," I admitted, sounding not nearly as guilty as I might at being caught out so openly.
"Well, just so you know, I've already pulled my panties down. I've got one hand on my belly and...hold on while I put this on speaker...one hand on my breast. I'm rubbing my breasts, making them nice and sensitive."
I moaned softly into the phone. "Tell me more, tell me how I'm making you feel," I whispered, not wanting anyone in the house to hear.
"Oh you turn me on so much Audrey. There's no way someone like you should have missed out on pussy for this long. And when I think about the way you fucked me yesterday, I just have to slide a finger from my belly to my clit. I'm stroking it, tapping it ever so lightly." These last words were punctuated by quiet groans.
"Mmm," I moaned, imagining the look on Irene's face as she played with herself. "Are you getting juicy Irene? Nice and wet? I think I can feel my panties soaking."
