Carried Away Ch 02

Note: Thanks to everyone who responded to the first chapter. Do write to me if you like it, I'd love to hear from you. SweetArtemis

When I opened my eyes in the morning, it took a few moments before I understood it hadn't been a dream. Gail was real. She'd gone home, refused to stay the night, said she had work in the morning, but she'd left her phone number and said I should call her.

I hadn't done anything to her. I thought she'd want me to make love to her, but it didn't happen. When I offered, she smiled and said next time. She teased me by rubbing her crotch with her hand. She said if I wanted it, I'd get enough next time to keep me busy. Her words made me blush.

Now it was morning and all I had was the memory. Would I call her? No matter the pleasure I'd had with her, I was afraid, uncertain about where it would go, afraid that sooner or later I'd be rejected and hurt by her.

Meanwhile, I had my job and I had to get dressed and out of the house. I rushed through the morning routine and drove in the rush hour downtown. I made it to the office in time for my boss to toss a pile of paperwork on my desk with a raised eyebrow.

"You look distracted," she said.

Marsha was just past fifty, smart, efficient, and motherly. I'd been her assistant for three years and I loved my job. Sometimes, because of the way she talked about women, I thought she might be gay. Was it true? I'd never given her a sexual thought. We had no personal relationship outside the office. She was a widow with two grown daughters. Was she really a lesbian? After my incredible night with Gail I looked at Marsha and wondered. I also looked at her in a new way--as a sexual being. For the first time ever I imagined myself in bed with her, imagined my face pressed between her large breasts. What would it be like? The idea seemed crazy. Had I changed so much in just one day because of my fling with Gail? Was it just a need for sex? I imagined Marsha had enormous nipples and she would demand I suck them for hours while she toyed with my body. I was shocked at how delicious I found the fantasy.

I glanced at Marsha and managed a smile. "I'm fine," I said.

She looked at me carefully. "Really?"

I blushed under her gaze. "Yes."

She finally turned and walked away. As I stared at her wide hips, I could feel the wetness in my crotch. Was I going mad? Was I a lesbian now? I decided choosing a label for myself was ridiculous. Gail excited me sexually, and now even Marsha excited me sexually. But what difference did a label make? Maybe I'd been gay all along and hadn't realized it. The two women were so different: Gail was as slender as a reed, while Marsha was all large breasts and wide hips. Maybe they were both exciting because they dominated me. Was that the essence of it?

It took me three days to muster the courage to call Gail. She sounded pleased to hear from me, which made my heart pound with joy. When she suggested we have dinner together, I immediately agreed. She teased me about riding on her motorcycle again, but she finally said this time she'd use her car and pick me up at my house at seven o'clock sharp the following Friday evening. We would dine at a posh downtown restaurant. "Dress up!" she said.

I was ecstatic when I put the phone down. A date! Such a long time had passed since a special date like this one. What should I wear? What would appeal to her? I searched through my wardrobe, but I found nothing that seemed exciting. So I went shopping on Thursday and bought a new black dress, knee-length, spaghetti shoulder straps, a V-neckline with a lace border, and a new pair of high-heeled black sandals. I'd wear pearls, tiny pearl earrings and a single strand of pearls at my throat. Then I thought about underwear. I had no doubt the evening would involve more than just dinner. I wanted to be sexy for her. The idea that I was dressing for a female lover thrilled me. I searched the drawers in my bedroom and found a garter belt and black nylons that I'd worn only once--years ago during my failed marriage. Merely thinking about the ensemble made me feel sexy.

I left the office early Friday afternoon and headed home to bathe, shave, trim my little bush, and get ready for this lovely woman who wanted me. By the time I finished my preparations, my heart was already pounding in my chest.

She arrived at seven in a silver Porsche, which floored me. She smiled when I came out of the house and walked towards her. She opened the door on the passenger side and helped me get seated. Then she walked around to the driver's side and climbed in. We were both in black: she wore a black silk pantsuit and a red silk shirt with a wide collar outside the jacket. She looked incredibly elegant. She was taller than me, tall even in her flat black loafers, a beauty as sleek as a panther.

The Porsche was luxurious. "I never asked what sort of work you do," I said.

She laughed. "I manage money for some people and I'm good at it. And what about you?"

I told her about the advertising agency where I worked. "I'm just a poor working girl."

Gail seemed amused. "Marsha Wilson's agency? I know her."

I was suddenly fearful that my relationship with Gail might complicate my job. Gail sensed it and reassured me. "Don't worry, sweets. What goes on between us is private, and in any case Marsha's a dyke and she wouldn't care."

"Marsha?"

Gail smiled. "You didn't know?" Then she looked at me, looked at my bare shoulders and then down at my nylon-covered legs. "You're ravishing."

"And so are you."

"I like the dress."

I blushed. "It's new."

She started the Porsche. "It suits you. All of it suits you. I like you in heels. You have great legs."

***

So there I was in a lovely restaurant with a hot date. I felt both giddy and uncertain at the same time. Did anyone recognize it was a date and not just two women friends having dinner together? What did they think? I told myself never mind, it didn't matter. Gail was too exciting for anything to matter except being with her. I tried to look nonchalant beside her in our booth, sipping a margerita through a straw while Gail had her hand between my legs. The possibility of discovery was both frightening and thrilling. Her fingers tickled my skin as they inched further up my thigh to find the top of my stocking and the stud of a garter.

She chuckled in a whisper. "A garter belt?"

I felt the blush in my face. "I thought you might like it."

"I love it. Now I'll be thinking about your legs and pussy all through dinner. Are you wet?"

Her words sent a shiver up my back. "With your hand under my dress, how could I be dry?"

"Good. I want you wet. I'll think about your drippings."

I blushed. "You're mad."

"No, I'm not. I'm sane and serious. Don't I look sane and serious to you?"

She did look sane and serious, which was part of what attracted me to her. She looked confident, competent, even masterful--and beautiful. I had to refrain from staring at the beauty of her face. And to remain calm, I had to avoid remembering our night together, her sleek body, her protruding dark nipples, her long endless legs, the shaped triangle of dark hair that adorned her sex. As we sat there, I had to avoid thinking about her body or else I would faint with desire. Yearning. Lust. I hungered to make love to her. I wanted her juices in my mouth. I hadn't ever done that to a woman and now I had a great lust for it. Again, I realized I wanted her so badly I would do anything she wished. But it was more than that: I really wanted her to control me. The idea of her controlling me sent shivers of pleasure up my spine.

Her fingers found the crotch of my panties, and I stifled a moan as I felt a fingertip stroke my clit.

"Your little button is stiff," she said.

My heart raced. "You're teasing me."

She chuckled as she watched the room around us. "Yes, I'm teasing you. That's about all I can do here, isn't it?"

"Yes, and they might catch us anyway."

She continued rubbing me with her fingers. "If we were alone now, what would you want?"

"I'd want to make love to you."

"How? Go down on me?"

"Yes."

"Hah."

"What does that mean?"

"Have you ever done it to a woman?"

"No."

"So I'll be your first. Well, that makes it interesting, doesn't it? But I'll have to teach you. Will you be a good pupil?"

"I'll try."

"Yes, you will, and I also think you'll be good at it." She laughed. "I'm getting turned on thinking about your mouth."

"You're making me crazy."

"But you like it."

"Yes."

"You're thinking about sucking me."

"Yes."

"Good girl."

"I haven't even had a good look at you yet."

"You will, sweets. After dinner we'll go to my place and you can look all you want."

Just then the waiter appeared and Gail pulled her hand away. Was there a knowing glint in the waiter's eyes? Did he wonder why two women had to sit so close together in a booth? He took our orders. Gail also ordered a bottle of champagne, and I wondered if she wanted to get me drunk to reduce my inhibitions. Champagne was always a powerful aphrodisiac for me. A few glasses would be enough, no need to get sloshed.

When the waiter left, Gail's hand immediately slipped back between my thighs. She sat on my left. Her right hand gripped the inside of my left thigh, fondled the soft flesh above the top of my stocking.

"Let me make you come," she said.

I moaned in protest. "Gail, please ... can't we wait?"

But she was already stroking me, her fingers firm against my sex.

She whispered in my ear. "You're dripping down there."

"They'll catch us."

"I don't care. I can't resist your wet pussy."

"I suppose you've known hundreds of women."

She chuckled. "Don't be silly, I'm not that lucky."

Her breath felt hot against my ear. I groaned when I felt one of her fingers push inside me through my panties. Her finger wiggled at the opening of my vagina, the sensation making me shiver with pleasure.

"I can't get inside you like this."

"You're so nasty."

She suddenly pulled her hand away and lifted it to her face. I blushed as she inhaled my scent. She put her finger in her mouth to taste me. Then her hand dropped down to slide between my legs again, and this time I could tell she was determined to make me come. Now I felt two fingers pushing the gusset of my panties into my hole and then pulling out to rub my clitoris. I thanked God our booth was in a dark corner. Her hand moved faster, and soon I closed my thighs around her fingers and buried my face against her shoulder.

She urged me on. "That's it, sweets. Come for me."

I came hard, my legs trembling, my head rolling on her shoulder.

"Perfect," she said. "I love the way you come."

***

On the way up in the elevator to Gail's apartment, she took me in her arms and kissed me. She smelled so good. I thrilled at the feel of her body against mine. She dropped her hands and gripped the cheeks of my ass through my dress.

"This ass is mine, isn't it?"

I trembled against her. "Yes."

"Show it to me." She made me turn. "Lift your dress."

Taking hold of my dress at each side, I pulled it up over my thighs and then over my hips. I moaned as I felt her hands slide over my cheeks.

"You're lovely," she said. "I like the black panties and the stockings. Very hot."

When we reached her floor, I quickly covered myself. Of course my pussy was drenched. No matter what she did to me, my juices flowed in abundance. For the first time in my life I was with someone who kept my heart pounding.

We left the elevator and Gail took my hand and led me down the hallway. In a few moments we were inside her apartment, the door closed, a hall light switched on. She made me turn my back to her and she moved behind me. Leaning against the wall, I dared to push my ass into her crotch. She chuckled against my ear. She pulled the shoulder straps of my dress off my shoulders and down my arms. She tugged the top of my dress down to my waist, and then she pulled up my bra and took hold of my breasts. She rolled my nipples between her fingers until they hardened with desire. She lifted my dress to my waist, slid her hand over my belly and into my panties to feel my sex. I tried to turn around to face her, but she kept pushing at me as I leaned spread-eagled against the wall. She suddenly pulled her hand away from my pussy and peeled my panties down my thighs and legs and helped me step out of them. "Legs apart," she said. I shifted my legs apart and I waited to be touched. Her hand came up between my thighs. "More," she said. I spread my legs further apart to give her access to my sex. She probed my hole, then stroked her wet fingers upward between my buttocks.

As I pressed my face against the wall, I thought I'd faint. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. Suddenly her hand was gone, and when I turned my head to look behind me I realized she was undressing. So I turned my face back to the wall and waited. I was hers. I belonged to her with every fiber of my being. How would she take me? I quivered at the possibilities. In a moment she pressed herself against me again, rubbing herself against my ass. I could feel her pubic hair against my cheeks. Then her fingers were inside me again, and now another finger, maybe her thumb, stroking my anus.

"Do you like it here?"

"Sometimes."

"Your ex-husband?"

"Yes."

She kissed my neck. "I like doing it. Will you let me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. You're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes."

She kissed my neck again. "Come to bed now."

When I tried to pull my dress down, she stopped me. She made me walk in front of her with my dress lifted at my hips. She said she wanted to look at my ass while I moved. When we reached the living room and a thick rug, I almost stumbled on my high heels. She laughed and steadied me with her hand on my elbow. She led me along a short hallway, walking beside me with her hand on my ass and her fingers between my cheeks. The feel of her fingers there made my heart pound. I had never in my life been so turned on.

Once we were in her bedroom, she took me in her arms and kissed me, a passionate wet kiss, her tongue thrusting into my mouth. She held my face between her two hands as she worked her lips and tongue around and inside my mouth. I still had my dress at my hips. Her hand moved to my belly and then below that to my sex. With her tongue still in my mouth, she pushed her fingers inside my hole and churned them while her thumb vigorously rubbed my clit.

"Let yourself go," she said. "I want you to come."

How could I avoid it? I found myself pumping my hips against her hand. When the orgasm hit me, she held me steady as I cried out and trembled and cried out again. Again she kissed me, kept kissing my mouth and chin and the side of my neck until I calmed down.

She stepped back and smiled at me. "I enjoy doing you. Was it as good as it looked?"

"Completely wonderful."

"Good. I've a business call to make. Why don't you undress and rest on the bed awhile. I'll be back soon, maybe fifteen minutes." She touched my cheek, turned away and then stopped and looked at me again. "Keep the heels and stockings on, sweets. They make you look delicious." She turned and quickly left the room.

So there I was alone, more in her spell now than our first time together. I hadn't yet recovered from the strong orgasm I'd had in the hall. It was barely after nine o'clock and I knew there would be more sex before the evening ended. I slipped out of my dress and bra and draped them over a chair near a dressing table. Gail's bedroom was lovely, a large richly furnished room with framed posters of theatrical productions on the walls. As I lay on the bed in my heels and stockings and skimpy garter belt, I recalled that the last time I'd been on a bed dressed like this I'd been waiting for my husband on one of our anniversaries. I thought I'd entice him into a fantasy evening, but when he arrived home he'd already had too much to drink with his friends (or so he said) and he passed out on the sofa before he even had his clothes off.

The one unfortunate thing about my divorce was that I thought about my ex-husband and my stupid marriage too often.

But now, for a while at least, I could stop thinking about it. Now I had someone who thrilled me like no one else ever had. I yearned for Gail to return to me. I felt aroused again. I ran my fingernails up and down my torso, barely touching my skin. I took my breasts in my hands and kneaded them, tugged and twisted my nipples with my fingers. I flicked the tips with a fingernail and they immediately stiffened into hungry points. I finally gripped my nipples and squeezed them hard. The feeling was incredible--almost painful but not quite. I continued pinching my nipples. Why did the slight pain give me such pleasure? Risking the edge of pain had always been exquisitely pleasurable for me. I squeezed my nipples again, rolled them and pulled at them. Where was Gail? Why was her phone call taking so long? I spread my hands wider and slid both hands down to my sex. I tugged at the hairs bordering my lips. I found my clitoris with my fingertips, stroked the shaft and drew the hood back as if showing it to someone. I wondered about Gail's clitoris. When would she let me make love to her? I could feel my slit leaking. I imagined a wet patch forming on the duvet under my crotch. Would Gail be annoyed? Would she mind me doing this? Holding myself open, I teased my hard clit with a fingertip. Tingles of pleasure spread over my belly.

Suddenly I heard noise in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and I quickly pulled my hands away from my sex and closed my legs.

Gail came into the room. She was completely naked. She walked over to the bed and smiled down at me. "I wasn't too long, was I?"

I shook my head. "Not at all, but I missed you."

"You look beautiful lying there like that."

I looked at her lean body, at her tiny breasts, her long nipples, her flat belly, the small dark triangle of hair that covered her sex. I wondered why she didn't shave her pubes. Wasn't that a rage these days? I wanted her so much I could not resist begging her.

"Let me lick you," I said.

She looked down at me and smiled. "Ready for it, are you?"

"Yes."

She climbed onto the bed and straddled me facing the headboard. When I looked up I could see her little breasts and dark nipples and flat belly. Then she lowered herself, eased her cunt down on my mouth.

"Easy does it," she said. "There's no rush."

I opened my mouth and sucked the wet sex pressing down on my face. I had my nose buried in her pubic hair, my chin already wet with her juices. Her sex engulfed me, the scent of it filling my nostrils. I found her clitoris, circled it with my tongue and sucked it between my lips. I closed my eyes, aware only of her sex pressed against my face. Her wet cunt. How marvelous that she was so wet for me. I focused on the juices, sucking them into my mouth, savoring them the way one would savor a fine wine. What finer wine was there than this? The musky scent of her cunt intoxicated me. I moved my mouth constantly, sliding my lips against her slick flesh, sucking at her hole, worshipping her core.

"Hold your face still," she said. "I'm going to ride you."

She started rocking her hips. Holding the headboard with her hands, she ground her cunt hard against my face. She rubbed her clitoris against my nose, then moved her clit to my mouth so I could suck it, then rubbed it on my nose again. I heard her moan as she pressed hard against my face, and I burned with happiness that I was giving her pleasure. That was what I wanted--to give her pleasure. Having her ride my face this way was so divine. My face was drenched with her juices, my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my chin. I bathed in it. I loved the way she had me pinned down, forcing me to pleasure her. I licked and sucked as I served her.