I just discovered literotica this summer. I was saddened to find so many of my favorite authors had given up writing some time ago.
So many stories on literotica beg for continuations. Virtually every story of Colleen Thomas and a whole host of lesbian writers captured my attention to the point that I've plotted out the events of sequels in my mind.
I corresponded with iraussieguy and I found out that he wasn't going to be able to finish some of the stories he wanted to tell. I helped him complete another story entitled Strawberries and Cream.
One of my favorite stories begged for a continuation and he offered me permission to do so. I suggest you read Commuting on the 7.45 first.
Click here.
I hope you enjoy my rendition of the sequel.
***
After a relaxing soak in Jayne's tub, we spent the rest of the evening in her flat. We prepared some dinner, engaged in plenty of conversation, and eventually retired to her bed where we earlier spent such an unexpectedly sexy time with her neighbor Rose. I had so many questions for Jayne, but she was deliberately evasive about their group. Rose had innocently introduced the idea of their group of gal-loving women to me. Maybe it wasn't so innocent. Perhaps Rose was teasing me.
Jayne told me that I would need to be initiated into their group. Of course, she evaded any questions about the nature of that initiation. Eventually, I just gave up and decided I would find out about it next weekend. Jayne invited me to that initiation next Saturday. I had been invited to a party through work, but better plans were now in motion.
Jayne changed the linen on the queen sized bed. As she let the silken sheets float in her fingertips above the bed, my new lover and friend appeared strangely angelic. In the soft moonlit room, her skin appeared fair and had a gleaming sheen. Her beautiful features rendered my normally roaming perceptions inert.
I will always be bewitched by that wicked smile of Jayne. It was her smile, her sultry licking of her lips, and that beguiling glimmer in her playful eyes that invited me into her life. I very nearly didn't allow myself the luxury of her company. I counted myself fortunate that I was now watching her make the bed in which we would fall asleep in each other's arms.
We woke up late on Sunday morning. I woke to smell of breakfast. Isn't life supposed to be this simple? My yearnings and wants in life suddenly became modest. Jayne was offering me the fruits of those desires in spades. I spent the day with my newfound lover and friend. In the end, we parted company at the end of our eventful weekend with the promise of new adventures next Saturday.
On Monday morning, I looked for Jayne in our regular carriage on the commuting train in which we first met. She wasn't there. By Monday night, I received a playful call from Jayne at home. I asked her why she hadn't been on the train in the morning and she explained that she would be avoiding me for the remainder of the week. I protested at length, but she explained it was one of the customs of their group. We talked into the wee hours of the morning teasing each other over the telephone. The filth that was spouted from our promiscuous minds and our filthy mouths would have made sailors cringe in embarrassment. By Tuesday, Jayne was calling me at the office. I loathed my monotonous and unfulfilling job and wanted to move on to greener pastures, but I still didn't know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. After stifling many giggles while Jayne teased me over the airwaves, I didn't want to hang up on her. We relented, however, and I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about Jayne. She called me again on Tuesday night, but we promised ourselves we would get to bed at a reasonable hour. At 11pm, we kept our promise and fell into a deep sleep. I will confess my dreams were haunted by Jayne, Rose, and the mysterious members of their vaunted "group".
Early Wednesday morning, I was running a meeting with my department. As our business was concluded at nearly lunch hour, a package was received and delivered by the departmental administrative assistant. I took the courier's packet to the confines of my cubicle. Noting Jayne's name on the package, I stood up looking over the walls of the cubicle to see if anyone would intrude in my privacy. The mindless zombies of the rat race seemed to have no pressing interest in my personal space.
I reached for the letter opener and slit open the envelope. A single slip of paper was found inside. It read:
My princess, my pet...
While the last couple of days have been vastly enjoyable, we will have to keep our contact under wraps for the next few days. We will not speak or hear from each other until Saturday. On Friday, you will be sent instructions about where and when to meet me on Saturday. If it is possible, I would suggest booking a holiday on Monday.
I need you to promise that you won't phone me until then. Worse than that, I need you to promise to me, and yourself, that you won't touch yourself in a sexual way until then. We are on the honors system here and I trust you completely as I hope you trust me in the same way.
I will miss you and will look forward to the next time I hold you in my arms.
Love, J.
The next day was unbearable torture. I don't want to talk about Thursday.
On Friday morning, I showered myself and virtually broke my promise. In the end, I behaved myself and went to work. Forlorn and a tad frustrated, I entered my cubicle to find an arrangement of flowers. My coworkers were flashing me looks of surprise and jealousy, especially the women, as I sat down at my desk. I could smell Jayne's perfume on the envelope accompanying the flowers. I frantically opened the envelope.
Laura,
I know this last day or so must have been unbearable. I'm sorry, but I must abide by the rules of my friends. I technically shouldn't have talked with you since Sunday, but we won't tell anyone will we?
I hope you aren't overly pestered by your coworkers. You'll find out soon enough that I probably only left a few minutes ago. I delivered the flowers to your desk. Peek out through your cubicle and you might catch a glimpse of me.
Missed me? Sorry.
I will see you on Saturday. One of our motley crew of Sad Souls owns a private lesbian club near the harbor-front. Do you remember the statue of an angel I told you about? I want you to be there at 4pm on Saturday.
I took the liberty of buying your wardrobe for the day. I've left it with your landlady and you may pick it up from her tonight. She's lovely, by the way, and I was tempted to plant a kiss on those bulbous lips. But I digress.
No more questions. No more answers.