*
The soft pressure between my legs slowly brought me out of my sleep. I'd been dreaming again ... yet another dream about Erika.
I hadn't contacted her since she had taken me like a two dollar whore at her apartment. I'd picked up the telephone several times, and I'd even dialled her number on a couple of occasions, but each time I had rang off before the call could register. Self-restraint was usually a strong point of mine and yet, where Erika was concerned, I needed every ounce I had. My sexy older lover had got into my psyche.
Half-conscious, I widened my legs and squeezed my eyes open. The way Callie was running her tongue across my labial lips was exquisite. Perhaps that was the reason I was so wet? It had nothing to do with my dreams of Erika after all.
Who was I kidding?
I ran my fingers through my beautiful girlfriend's blonde hair and arched my body. I wanted to concentrate on her and no-one else. When she grinned up at my sudden participation and changed her attention to my clit, I dragged my right leg over her shoulder and curled my foot around her neck.
This was how it should be. Me and Callie. Callie and me.
"Mmmm, yes, baby..." I moaned.
She worked her stiff tongue inside me, knowing the effect it always had. When she began to thrust it back and forward like a little cock, the groan came from the very back of my throat. My fingers tightened in her hair and my groans turned into growls.
I bent my other leg at the knee and planted the sole of my foot on the mattress. My body pushed higher so that only my shoulders remained on the crumpled bed linen and I began to grind up into her face. Callie momentarily pulled away, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared upwards from between my upwardly grinding thighs.
"Fuck!" she exclaimed. "What's got into you?"
My juices were smothered across her reddened face. Our lovemaking was invariably tender and my grinding had shocked her. For a moment I thought she was going to object, but instead she was licking my juices from her sweet lips.
"That's hot, Claire," she murmured. "Do that again, baby ... Come on ... Grind on me..."
I couldn't help myself. When her fingers dug into my asscheeks and pulled me tighter into her face, I roughly gripped her hair and gave her what she wanted.
This was role reversal. Callie was me and I was Erika.
A growl came from the back of my throat as I used her, as Erika had used me. I wrapped strand after strand of her blonde hair around my fingers, holding her face in position as I rubbed my needy pussy across her forehead, nose, mouth and chin. God, I was so lost in the moment that I didn't even know how long it lasted.
It was only Callie's fingernails digging into my asscheeks that brought me back to reality.
"Fuck, Claire... I can hardly breathe..."
Her words came out in small gasps and brought me back to reality. Suddenly I felt very small. My girlfriend didn't deserve that.
"Callie... I'm sorry—"
"Nooooo," she interrupted. "That was fantastic. You've never done that to me before, baby. I love this side of you..."
She grinned up at me as she spoke. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she held my gaze and provocatively extended her tongue again. I moaned when she ran it across my mons. I gripped her hair even tighter between my long fingers and let out a roar of arousal as I started to buck on her face again.
"Yeah, like that..." she mumbled into my throbbing flesh. "Like that..."
*
"Hmm?" I asked.
I hadn't quite caught what Callie had said.
It was three hours after our lovemaking session—no, our fucking session, that couldn't be termed lovemaking by any stretch of the imagination—and we were relaxing on the hotel terrace, enjoying a glass of wine.
"I know what you're thinking."
I glanced up at her again. We'd hardly spoken in those three hours. I'd constantly found myself miles away, thinking of one person and one person only. I only had to imagine Erika looking at me with those dark, smouldering, Italian for me to feel weak at the knees.
I should have been focused on the mind-blowing sex Callie and I had just shared and yet every time my mind wandered in that direction it took a diversion and found itself outside of Erika's door again. As much as I hated myself for thinking this way, I realised I wanted more.
I was like an addict needing her fix. God knows how many times I'd got myself off whenever Callie wasn't around thinking of her. And now I'd done the unpardonable. I'd taken Callie, used her, in exactly the sort of way that Erika used me. And I'd gotten off on it.
"I've been thinking about it all morning, too," she said, nudging me with her foot. "You were so hot, Claire"
I reached out to cover her hand with mine. She was smiling across the table at me and couldn't have looked more beautiful.
"Hey, it's okay," she said, sending me an empathetic grin.
She knew me well enough to recognise the guilt written all over my face. Only this time, she had no idea of the reason for the angst behind my expression.
"I loved it, I really did," she enthused. "I want you to be forceful like that again. I've never heard you so vocal when you came."
That's because you didn't hear me with Erika, I reflected, before I could hold back that wicked thought.
I gave her another smile, but found it impossible to speak. The words were caught in the back of my throat. It didn't matter. Callie was doing enough talking for us both. I listened to her telling me how sexy I'd been for another few minutes, before she eventually veered off onto a different subject.
"I was thinking of doing some shopping," she said, flicking back her hair.
"Shopping?"
"Yeah," she softly said.
There was a slight blush on her face and if I didn't know better I'd have thought she was up to something. She had missed yesterday's session at the Conference too, although the day had been centred on Finances and that subject had always bored Callie.
"Why don't you head for that art exhibition you told me about," she suggested. "It's our day off, spend the afternoon there. You know I hate that pretentious stuff. A painting of a pile of rubbish looks like a pile of rubbish to me, not a masterpiece. So I'll go shopping."
The suggestion was appealing, albeit a little strange, too. Callie had spent most of her free day yesterday shopping for clothes and had returned without a single purchase. But I wasn't going to object. I could use some time by myself, just to get my thoughts in order.
"Yeah, okay," I casually said, not wanting to appear too eager. "That's not a bad idea."
It was more than that. Visiting the exhibition might help me take my mind from Erika. It was like eating chocolate—the best way to avoid it was not to buy it in the first place. The art exhibition was a great idea.
"Yes," I repeated, nodding my head to confirm my decision to myself. "We can meet up in time for dinner."
*
The ceilings were high and the white walls provided an expansive background to the pictures on display. Yet the exhibition had failed to inspire me. I had moved from room to room, trying to build up some sort of enthusiasm. But try as I might, my mood didn't improve.
My head was full of contradictory feelings. Callie was my girlfriend and yet she wasn't the one I wanted. Another dose of Erika was what I needed and yet that was bad for me. It didn't help that every time I internally debated my feelings, I came to a cul-de-sac.
When I reached the top floor, full of blown-up prints of women in various states of undress, I was taken completely by surprise. For the last couple of hours I'd worked hard to subjugate the simmering desires inhabiting my body and these prints—and especially the centrepiece—instantly brought them to the boil again.
The large print in the centre was clearly designed to shock. The contrast was low and the lighting fuzzy, but it still clearly depicted a girl sinking to her knees before the engorged labia of an older woman.
"What do you think?" a voice asked, over my shoulder.
I turned to see a beautiful brunette, temptingly dressed in a low-rise pair of skinny jeans and an overly tight sleeveless blouse. Her deep brown eyes sparkled at me.
"It is sexy, no?"
Her voice was accented and while I couldn't quite place it, the sound sent shivers down my spine.
"Er ... yes..." I hesitantly replied. "I suppose so."
"You've been regarding it for some time. I've been watching you."
"You have?"
"Who wouldn't? You're a beautiful woman. Which other pictures have caught your imagination?"
I didn't know what to say. It was difficult enough coping with the deceitful thoughts inhabiting my mind without having a young brunette coming onto me, too.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail and I found myself thinking that it made her face look harsher than it should. She would look completely different with it tumbling down over her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes were wonderfully expressive and she had the sort of full lips that I loved.
"There are so many to choose from," she said, beaming at me. "You're here by yourself?"
"With my girlfriend," I quickly responded, using my relationship as a shield.
She glanced around the room. "She's at the exhibition with you?"
"Er ... no. I'm here by myself but," I glanced at my watch. "I need to be going."
"You're sure?" she asked, placing her hand on my forearm. "There's a delightful little coffee shop I know not far from here."
*
I ordered an Iced Caramel Macchiato instead of coffee. Maybe it would cool the heat inside me?
I should have been here with the brunette, but instead I had made my excuses and hurried away from the exhibition—and temptation—and found a small coffee shop by myself. I had enough on my plate without allowing myself to be picked up by a beautiful young woman.
