Author's note: Thanks to Kenji Sato again for a great edit. I know some of you have been looking forward to Annabelle's Saturday afternoon with Lenny, set up in Chapter 1. So you have to wait for only one more chapter! In this one, Annabelle reminds herself how good female loving is!
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Annabelle 06
Like yesterday morning, I surfaced from sleep, dreaming someone was eating me out. And like yesterday, the black-haired head of my husband, Nick, bobbing around between my open thighs showed me it was real, and not imagined, "Good morning, lover," I said, still only half-awake, as I tousled his hair.
"Same to you, sweetheart," he smiled up at me, before returning to his work.
Although he had not eaten me out for several years until yesterday, he had had loads of practise, in our sexy times. For a bloke, he was very, very good. Hard to think of anyone better. He had learned early on, the thing that women knew instinctively--you have to take your time with eating a pussy. And you have to be especially delicate and sensitive, when working on the clit.
Almost never, go straight for it. There are lots of other parts to concentrate on first. Toes, feet, and thighs are lovely before you get anywhere near the prize. And when you do, the advantage of a hairy clam is that you can spend lots of time sucking, licking, and nuzzling hair. And burrowing through a really thick bush to get to the lips, is as arousing as when you finally get to the lips. Then again, you tease, you flicker, you caress. Just breathing on the lips is gorgeous. Bring your fingers in to play, too; stroke and caress before you go inside. And all the time, listen and watch how your partner is reacting; let her body show you the way--sometimes, she might want you to go straight for it, but let her show you.
Most of the time, she will want it slow, so by the time you tentatively make your first lick, she will be ready. Of course, every woman show this in different ways. Some could power an engine with the movement of their hips, or set off a noise detector three miles away. Others you would hardly know anything is happening, and every type in between.
And then, when you are on the lips--which is where Nick still was--that's where you really have some fun. Forget all this porno stuff, about sticking your tongue deep inside the vagina. Almost no one has a tongue long enough to do that. The pleasure is from what your tongue and fingers can do to the outer and inner lips.
And then finally, the ultimate prize. Gently, gently does it with tongue, lips and teeth, and fingers before again she tells you what she wants.
"Oh yes, Nick, suck my clit hard!" was my order at that point. He had gotten me to such a pitch, I just wanted to to cum like fuck. My legs were spread wide and up in the air, and I was pummelling my tits. When he bit down, I sprayed him very wet and hard.
"Was that okay?" he asked, a bit sheepishly, but also with a 'I knew I was good' smile--just like he used to have before.
"No, that was fucking boring," I said, feigning a look of indifference, before breaking into a huge smile. "Now, fuck my brains out."
He was on me in a second, but as his head entered me, I flinched and groaned.
"Oh shit, no. Please come out."
He was out straight away, with a worried look on his face.
"Sorry, darling, I'm too sore. Nothing for three months and then fourteen times in two days--too much. I'm really sorry!" I pulled him down on top of me, and gave him a huge hug, and a kiss with lots of tongue.
"I'm not surprised, to be honest," he said gently. "We have rather taken advantage of that gorgeous hairy box of yours."
"Should be all right in a couple of days," I reassured him. "And that doesn't stop me loving you,"I grinned, running my finger up his rock-hard, throbbing shaft. Ten minutes later, he filled my mouth and tummy with lots of warm spunk.
Although I wasn't going to fuck today, I still went commando. I just loved feeling air on my almost-always-now-hot and wet fanny. When I got to school, Mr. Green cut me dead, which was fine by me. Before assembly, I sent a text to Lenny. He had given me his number on Monday, so we could sort out Saturday. The message said: 'no sex please for the next couple of days I'm too sore. come round to my place Saturday at 2.00.'
Bless him the message back was nothing heavy: 'sorry if I've helped make you sore. looking forward to seeing you Saturday.'
Me, being me though, not being able to have something long and hard inside me was no barrier to having sexy thoughts. As I mentioned in Chapter 1, I was no stranger to woman-on-woman, and a bit of gentle pussy loving from a real expert, I reckoned, was definitely going to help ease my itch until Saturday.
And such loving was right on tap. Five years ago, when Nick and I were definitely into the almost-non-existent sex routine, I had gone out with Jenny, one of the other teachers. Everyone knew Jenny was a dyke, and I had once or twice seen her checking me out. She was only twenty-six and had mentioned to me once, she liked older women.
Anyway, that night out, we got pretty pissed and ended up back at her place. If I'm honest, the alcohol had taken my inhibitions and worries away. I hadn't cheated with a man by that stage, and I had this weird logic, that being fucked by a woman was not cheating. So when Jenny met me coming out of her loo with a predatory look on her face, I didn't resist. It was only three steps to her bedroom and three more steps to her bed.
She may only have been twenty-six, but she had learnt a fuck of a lot. I lost count of the number of times I came, even just in the two hours I was there. And not once, did she let me eat her. She totally focused on me, eating and fucking me into a delirious happiness.
She knew I was married, and knew I would regret it in the morning. I did, and didn't speak to her for a couple of weeks. It was her who broke the ice, by sending me a picture of my pussy taken when I hadn't realised it. My first reaction was anger, but then I just smiled, and looked over at her. We were both in the staff room when she sent it.
I texted back: 'I didn't say thank you. Thank you for one hell of a lovely night'
'my pleasure!" was texted back, then another: 'any time'
We did go out for another drink a while later. No sex that night. We just talked about my life and hers. I had always found her pretty grounded and self-aware, and that certainly became clearer, as we talked. She had been treated like shit by her family when she came out; including lots of mental and verbal abuse from all of her family members, and some actual physical abuse from her brothers. Her family were all connected to some extreme-fundamentalist Christian group and the worst had been her being physically dragged to a church service, abused by the congregation and then going through an 'exorcism' to get the evil of being gay out of her.
Needless to say, she had and would never have anything to do with them ever again. This all happened when she was eighteen. She had been rescued by a neighbour, who she had literally bumped into one day. The neighbour got her out of the home, and had her stay with a friend in a different part of town. She then effectively became her mother and had supported her from then.
Although this had all happened only eight years ago, it had left few scars, apparently. Instead, it had grown her up damn quickly, but the love and support she had received from Karen, the neighbour, had shown her there was love around and she had not become bitter.
What she had also realised, was that there were a lot of repressed older women around who wanted, when you offered them, a bit of love and attention they were desperate for. For lots of women, it wasn't young cock they wanted, but young pussy. "They wanted sex but with the femininity that brought softness and tenderness their own relationships lacked."
That didn't mean many of them didn't feel very guilty and upset about straying; so about half didn't give back. "That was fine," Jenny said, as she loved eating old hairy muff. Then, she grinned the most dirty grin. "Karen also seduced me, the first time I stayed at her place and I got hooked on old, hairy pussy."
Karen had passed away a year ago, leaving her house and some money to Jenny. So she had spent the last year getting as much old hairy fanny as she could. And there were enough who reciprocated, that she, herself, got all the cums she wanted.
I went home that night, thoroughly resolved not to get too down about my own situation. Other people had a lot more in their life to deal with. I also had a huge respect and admiration for Jenny. I also, as I strummed my clit that night, knew I wanted sex with her again, and this time I would show her some love.
So when I saw her in the staff room that morning I sent her a text. It was the picture of my pussy she had sent me. I had kept it. The message with it, read: 'Kitty needs some attention.'
My phone buzzed a minute later: 'When and where? No beating around the bush--sorry for the pun!'
