I'm Betty. I'm twenty-seven years old, a college graduate, a paralegal by trade, and a would-be artist and recently divorced. That's about as much of my personal history that you need to know for the purposes of this story. As to what I look like, I'm five feet six; I have dirty blond hair and brown eyes. I have a decent figure. I'm not huge breasted or beautiful, although most do tell me I am attractive, at least they say that if they want to fuck me. If a man wants to fuck me bad enough, he'll probably tell me I'm beautiful and have haunting dark eyes. If he wants a blowjob he will likely say that I have a sensuous mouth. Of course, most people don't say those things at all unless they are after sex. Friends usually tell me that I'm pretty and have a warm, happy face, but I think some of my friends want to fuck me.
I had a visit last Saturday morning from a friend of mine named Laura. We've known each other for years, since we were freshmen in college in fact, and she comes over to visit or asks me out about once a month. Laura always struck me as being a little unusual, but in a way that is hard to express. She's pretty. She has light brown hair of a color that is often unflatteringly referred to as dishwater blond, in other words a little lighter than my hair at least in the highlights. She has lovely blue eyes and she is an inch or two taller than I am. Her breasts are a little smaller than mine, and she hides the rest of her figure behind loose clothing, or if she is wearing a dress, it is long and loose and comes down to her ankles. She is a librarian by profession and says she loves her job.
Anyway, she came over and we were sipping coffee while I was telling her about this book of illustrations that I was about to have published -- my first publishing of anything actually. She had been gazing at me thoughtfully while I told her about it and finally she said, "Well, I think you deserve it, Betty, I've seen your drawings for years, and I think they're wonderful."
"Really?" I was extremely pleased, "You never said before."
She crossed her legs -- she was wearing an ankle length print dress today with flats, took another sip of her coffee and set down the cup on the end table beside her at the end of the couch. I was sitting across from her in an armchair. "Oh, I've always thought your drawings are beautiful, very sexy, in fact. I try not to look at them too often because they make me horny. Damn! I'm so horny today, too." She shook her head at what I thought was almost a non sequitur. Perhaps she did too.
I mainly drew fantasy art; muscular men and women wearing scantily clad costumes, or no costumes, that sort of thing, so I could see how she might find them sexy. After all I worked pretty hard to make them look sexy, just as I worked hard to make my monsters seem scary. Although I wasn't sure how, I felt the need to respond to her remark about horniness. "Well I certainly know where you are coming from. It's been six months since my divorce. I guess it's time I started to date or something."
Fortunately, Laura was still on track with my art, "Not the men especially," clarified Laura, still giving me that thoughtful look, "But your women are amazing. I mean, in most fantasy art the women have huge boobs, and yours rarely do, and even though they are muscular, they don't look, you know, mannish."
"And looking at them makes you horny?"
Laura shrugged, "Yeah, they sure do! And no, as far as I know, I'm not gay. I've only slept with a few men, but it's only been men. For some reason, looking at women I consider attractive turns me on as much as looking at men that seem attractive. In fact, I think sexy women are more of a turn on. What about you?"
I was a little surprised to realize I'd never really thought of it that way, but... "Um, actually, I guess my pictures of women turn me on a little, too. After all, why else would I draw them that way?" I noticed Laura re-crossing her legs. She was practically fidgeting and she kept wriggling her ass like she couldn't get comfortable.
She noticed me noticing her, "Sorry," she said, "I get so horny sometime that I just can't sit still. Would you mind terribly if I masturbated? As horny as I am, it will only take a few minutes."
Never has a woman asked me that! I tried not to look as shocked as I felt. After all, the artist side of me wants to cultivate an image of being cosmopolitan and world-wise. "No, please go ahead. You can use my bathroom or even my bedroom if you like."
"You're so sweet, Betty, but I mean I want to do it here and now, on the couch, in front of you. Don't worry, you don't have to see anything." Whereupon, she spread her legs slightly and began rubbing and squeezing her crotch right through her dress. "So, you were saying that you found your women to be attractive, too? Is it women with nicely muscled legs that you find sexy?"
For a moment, I couldn't answer. I mean, there was a woman masturbating in front of me like it was something that happened all the time. I'm not like that. Other women I know weren't like that. In fact, I don't think I have heard a woman admit she masturbated, much less ask to masturbate in front of me -- not that Laura had waited for my permission, and from the way she was looking at me so intently, it was clear that my watching her was an important part of her masturbation. I finally found myself just staring at the hand that was rubbing her crotch.
Laura cleared her throat and repeated, "Is it women with nicely muscled legs that you find sexy?"
Evidently Laura felt comfortable about what she was doing and intended to just continue the conversation. I felt pretty shocked and uncomfortable about it, but I was determined to pretend not to notice. "Yes, that's a lot of it, although there is a lot to find beautiful about the female form like in the shape of the breasts as opposed to their size, and in the hips and waist... So you don't find muscular men to be attractive?" I tried really hard not to look directly at where her hand was rubbing, but I couldn't help but glance now and then, and since Laura seemed to be watching me intently, I know she noticed.
"Not really, at least not as much. In real life muscular men are usually too vain for my tastes, and sometimes they're gay." She was starting to sound a little breathless. "Did you know that I have legs a lot like your women?" Before I could answer she used her free hand to raise her skirt, all the way up to mid thigh. I was stunned, not just by her actions, but by her legs. They were shapely, beautiful, and rippling with musculature.
"Goodness!" I almost stammered, "I never had any idea you were hiding a body like that under your clothes! Why, they're just gorgeous, Laura." Her calves flattened against the couch as her muscles bunched making her calves look very wide, her breathing was practically panting now, and her face was turning pink, then red. Her blue eyes were still locked on mine and her mouth was parted. She licked her lips. Looking into her face as she began her orgasm, I felt as if I was participating in an incredibly lewd and lascivious act. My nipples were tingling and I had butterflies in my pussy making it twitch in sympathy with Laura's naked lust as her mouth opened wider, her eyes still burning into mine.
"Oh!" she coughed, and then shivered. "Yes!" Her breathing deepened and she leaned back against the couch, taking her hand out of her lap, her skirt still carelessly pulled up to mid thigh. As she relaxed her legs spread a little more, but she still wasn't showing me anything, and dammit I needed to stop looking, but her legs were so perfect, so sexy! I had never really noticed before, but Laura's skin had a natural olive tone, almost like a tan that went everywhere. Obviously some Mediterranean blood that mixed strangely with her blond streaked light brown hair and blue eyes. I noticed the same color on her arms and neck. God! Her orgasm had been a sexy thing to watch!
She gave me a lazy smile as the color of her face slowly returned to normal. "Thanks so much, Betty. Doing that in front of you made it so much more intense. I love the way you looked at me, the way you're still looking at my legs. Maybe you'd like to draw me sometime?"
I felt a little faint, "Uh, yes. Yes, that would be great, Laura. You would make a great model." I sounded stupid and knew it and couldn't stop looking at those beautiful legs. "Maybe you could wear shorts, or a swim suit, or something."
