Popsicle Girl Ch 01

Dear Reader,

This is the next installment of the Heather series. While it stands pretty much on its own, you may desire to read the first four chapters of “Sweet, Sweet Heather” to gain insight as to how this journey of love began. To those of you who were kind enough to send me feedback, I sincerely thank you. I know my writings can’t satisfy everyone, but I write erotica to turn both myself and my readers on. A lot of what you read really happened, and some of it contains enough “literary license” to juice (no pun intended) the story up a bit. In any event, I hope you enjoy...

Love, BethAnne

In any lasting relationship sacrifices sometimes need to be made. There has to be give and take from both sides. My sacrifice, for the sake of our relationship, was my dear kitten Tabitha, my calico friend who had saved more than one evening from being a crying fest after Linda had left me. Shortly after I moved in with Heather, with Tabitha by my side, Heather started to get sneezing fits. Neither of us suspected the cat, but when the sneezing did not let up, Heather visited a doctor and soon discovered she was allergic to cat hair. Tabitha became my sacrifice, albeit not an extremely difficult one because we found a home for him with an elderly couple who lived nearby. I was given unlimited visitation rights and he was given the best care anyone could hope for. Heather, and our sex lives, improved almost immediately after Tabitha moved out. So I gave something away, but what I got in return was absolutely worth it.

Of course we both sacrificed our freedom. It was no longer just me or Heather by ourselves. It was us. The two of us. We gave each other enough room so we weren’t joined at the hip, so to speak, yet we spent enough time together to get to know each other on a truly personal basis. Very personal (tee-hee). Sometimes we talked all night; at other times we were in the same room together and said nothing for hours at a time.

It didn’t take either of us long to discover what turned each of us on the most. Heather liked to wear skirts and had a nice variety of them; I liked to sneak peeks up her skirts and when she found out that, after showing me a good deal of leg (or more!), I would pounce on her like a tigress, she devised ways to “accidentally” give me really nice views. Heather got turned on by seemingly simple incidental touches. If I walked by her and moved my hand nonchalantly across her arm, or her thigh, or if I lightly brushed her breasts with my shoulder in moving past her, she would grab me and start kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

We even found a special way to wake each other up before work. It didn’t matter who would start it, but we would just lay in bed, sometimes naked, sometimes with our nightclothes on, and gently finger each other into wakefulness. Except for weekends, this kind of activity seldom led to actual sex. It just felt natural for us to lay back, legs opened, our arms crisscrossed, our hands between each other’s legs. Even when things would get a little wet down there, we did it mostly as way of getting closer to each other and more often than not we would simply hug and then arise from the bed with a special, delightfully warm glow of togetherness.

Since I got home from work first, I normally did the cooking. I am not the world’s greatest cook, but Heather seemed to enjoy everything I made. Usually we went out to eat on Saturday nights and we often hit the movies on Sunday afternoons. We both loved romantic comedies, so we would sometimes go to Blockbusters and bring home a movie to watch from the comfort of our sofa.

Perhaps the best thing I liked about our new relationship was the spontaneity of the sex. Heather, a fledgling lesbian, was never afraid to initiate a tryst. Moreover, she was a fast learner and insatiable in bed. Our sexual liaisons seldom lasted less than several hours, even after months into our relationship. As much as I love sex, I have to admit that, more than once, Heather nearly drove me to the point of exhaustion. At first I thought it was the “newness” of it all, that learning and experimentation kept her going, but I soon found out that Heather was a sexual fireball with a never-ending desire in her loins.

One morning, when we were getting ready for work, Heather came out of the bathroom wearing a lacy white bra, showing way too much cleavage, and sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose that clung ever so tightly to a pair of silky-white panties. Her ass was out of this world, and she knew how much I loved it, but seeing the pantyhose and panties over her perfectly rounded globes drove me insane. As she brushed her long, red hair, I stealthily knelt behind her and started planting soft kisses all over that sweet derriere. Heather suddenly dropped the hairbrush, placed her hands on the make-up table, poked her ass out invitingly, and let me have my way with her. By the time the pantyhose and panties encircled her tiny feet, and I was licking and kissing my way into oblivion, we both realized we might be here for a while. We called in sick that morning and spent most of the day in bed. That was the kind of affect her ass had on me.

One night she came home a little late from work. I had already gotten rid of my work clothes, stripped down to my birthday suit, threw on a white cotton robe, made supper, and was reading a magazine when Heather strolled in.

“Hi, babe, waz up?” she asked with an impish grin.

“Dinner’s been ready for a half-hour,” I said, feigning a look of anger.

She moved toward me, wearing a brown and white plaid skirt and a long-sleeved white blouse. Her legs were bare. “Oh,” she said, “no ‘evening sweetie’ or something else nice and romantic?”

I couldn’t hold my angered expression. I smiled. “Hi, Ms Heather, you look good enough to eat.” And she did. The skirt, hemmed just above the knee, fit nice and tightly around her thighs. Even her pubic bone was visible just above the juncture of her legs. I could only imagine how great her ass looked in the skirt. The blouse, made of shiny rayon (or perhaps it was silk), showed off her breasts just enough to make me drool. Her beautiful red hair shimmered in the light. Her blue eyes looked straight into mine. They had the ability to make me melt on the spot.

“I am good enough to eat!”

Without a further word, Heather moved directly in front of me, hiked her skirt half way up her thighs, and straddled me. My legs were crossed, but my robe had drifted far enough to the side to bare my knee. Without taking her eyes from mine, she lowered her hips until the soft crotch of her panties came into contact with my knee.

“Omigod!” I blurted.

In a slight rocking motion, she moved the panty crotch back and forth over my knee, pushing my robe further off of my legs in the process. When I uncrossed my legs, she moved even further forward, planting her knees on the chair, on either side of my hips, and straddled my thighs. Her eyes never lost contact with mine.

“Heather has something that BethAnne wants,” she whispered softly.

Her perfume was intoxicating. Her subtle hip movements left me almost breathless.

I smiled. “Is it something I want more than the hamburgers that are starting to get cold?”

“Much more,” she husked. “Fuck the hamburgers.”

“I’d rather fuck you.”

“That was kinda my idea, dear Beth.”

I moved my hands to her skirt-clad hips and helped her undulate them even more. By now her skirt had ridden all the way to the top of her thighs. Another inch or so and her sweet panties would come into view. I wanted her so much. I moved my hands to her bare thighs and boldly shoved her skirt all the way up, bunching it at her waist. I moved my eyes away from hers long enough to view her panties, ones I had never seen before, totally sheer, bikini-styled, that beautifully framed her totally hairless mons.

“Wow, girl, I like!”

“Bought them today. Just for you.”

She looked sexy beyond belief. I started to move my hand across the filmy front of the slightly white panties when she suddenly pushed my hand away. “Not yet, sweetie. Beth gets a lap dance first.”

I suddenly realized the little stinker had planned this rendezvous right after she bought the panties. I was her captive. And I enjoyed every delicious minute. She moved each of my hands to the arms of the chair and said, “You can look, but you can’t touch. That’s the rule of lap dancing.”

My hands tightly gripped the arm of chair. Looking back into my eyes once more, Heather slowly unbuttoned her white blouse. Stealing glances downward, I watched each tantalizing movement of her fingers. The blouse soon parted into a wide “V”, exposing a sheer bra that perfectly matched the panties below. The look on her face was pure lust. She cupped each bra-clad breast and held them for me. The pink tips of her nipples and the surrounding areolas looked absolutely gorgeous behind the gossamer material.

She squeezed each nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “These are for you, darling,” she whispered sexily. I wanted to suck on them forever, but instead held on tightly to the arms of the sofa. Not surprisingly, I could feel a wetness building where it normally builds. I squeezed my thighs together and felt my clit begin to tingle.

She moved her right hand lower, all the way to the front of her see-through panties. “And this is for you, too,” she continued. I watched as her middle finger made its way over the pubis, settling in the fleshy lips of her cunt. In awe, I watched Heather stroke her clit with the invading finger. I could feel sweat forming on my brow.

“Heather loves to have Beth kiss right where my finger is,” she husked.

“Beth wants to kiss her there now,” I half-pleaded.

“Naughty-naughty little girl!” she said in a slightly admonishing tone. “When Heather is through with the lap dance, she is yours for the taking.”

Suddenly she moved her knees from the chair and stood up in front of me, slowly shucking her blouse. She unbuttoned the side of the skirt, still encircling her waist, and pulled the zipper downward. She let the skirt fall silently to the floor, like a handkerchief. She stood before me in the off-white but completely sheer bra and panties that she had purchased just for this occasion, hands on her hips.

“Did you want a totally nude lap dance?” she asked with a wry smile. “Or should I leave these frillies on?”

I laughed out loud. I had never heard underwear, even as delicate as that which now adorned my sweet, dear Heather, called “frillies.” “I’ve never had a lap dance. How do you normally give one?”

She smiled broadly. “I’ve never done one. But I think totally nude is the only way to go.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said with a knowing wink.

I watched once more as Heather slowly removed the last remnants of clothing from her body. I loved seeing her naked. Her breasts, even though they were even smaller than mine, jutted out perfectly. The pink nipples were hard as pebbles. Her pubic mound was a spectacular sight, the slightly puffy lips opening just enough to reveal the round hood of her clit.

“Take your robe off,” she said in a firm voice. I stood up and took it off, then eased myself back into the chair, legs slightly askew, my body just as naked as Heather’s. “The rule is still no touching,” she continued. “One touch and the dance is over.”

She sounded serious.

She went on. “I am allowed to do anything I want to you, but if your hands move from there everything stops.”

“Who says?”

“I say! Do you agree?”

Not being able to touch Heather would be almost impossible, but the night was young. “Okay, I agree.” I felt like adding “you shit!” but thought the better of it. Why ruin the mood?

Heather knelt in front of me. In total fascination, I watched her head move down. Suddenly, she planted a soft kiss on each of knees, then used her hands to part my legs. She parted them far enough to expose my own hairless slit. She stared like a hungry lioness straight into the “V” of my splayed legs. She licked her lips sensuously. I think she liked what she saw.

She slowly stood once more, then straddled my left leg. Once more she brought her body downward. This time, when she pressed her bare sex into the fleshiness of my thigh, it was familiarly wet. When she undulated her hips, the wetness moved all over my leg. In an instant, Heather’s sweet juices had coated my leg all the way from my knee to my upper thigh. Silently, she moved to my right leg and left a copious amount of her vaginal secretions there as well. I could smell the delightful odor of her spendings. My own pussy was almost gushing between my spread legs. I knew I was leaving a sign of my desire for this goddess on the sofa cushion.

Still without a word, she spread herself over my left arm and pressed her now drenched cunt hard over it, rewarding me with yet more of her sweet juices. I thought for a moment that I had died and this was heaven. She did the same thing to my right arm, coating it completely. My body was beginning to smell of pungent pussy. I inhaled deeply and wafted in the wonderful odor.

Finally she spoke. “Don’t you dare move your lips,” she said in a commanding voice. Then, just as silently as before, Heather planted her feet on the cushion of the chair, next to my thighs, moved her knees to apart, and plastered herself right on my face. Suddenly I was being smothered by a sea of warmth and moisture. Her sex felt like it was on fire. She moved her hands to the back of my head of drew me deeply into the seething wonderland. Soon my whole face was filled from ear to ear with slightly sticky but oh-so-delightful love juices.

Heather was an artist painting a canvas and her brush was her dripping cunt. I moaned loudly as she pressed so hard into me I fought for breaths. I inhaled deeply when she moved back far enough to allow me to breathe, but soon felt her sex envelop me totally. Faithful to her orders, I did not move my lips, though every part of my being ached to please her in a thousand different ways.

When the lap dance finally ended, I laid back and somehow felt almost totally exhausted, even though Heather had done all the work. She stood in front me, naked and beautiful, hands once more on her hips.

“You better take a shower, girl,” she said with a soft smile, eyeing the wetness she had left on my body.

My heart was still beating a mile a minute. “I am speechless,” I said with a long sigh.

“I was so turned on, Beth. I came three times.”

“No one has ever done that to me, Heather.”

She smiled again. “Good. I wanted to do something special for you.”

“You did do something special. Oh, how you did it!”

She took my hand and pulled my weary body out of the chair. We giggled all the way to the bathroom like two teenagers. We showered quickly, to remove the “stickiness” from my body. To my surprise, Heather then drew a bath and we lounged in the warmth of bubbles and water for the next half-hour. If the water began to get cold, Heather filled it with some more hot water. I know I drifted off to sleep more than once as I leaned back into Heather’s body. She folded her arms over my chest as I nestled my head in the softness of her neck. If I ever had even the slightest doubts about whether this relationship would work, they had all disappeared with this one evening.

Heather let me sleep in her arms, in the bath tub, kissing the back of my head every once in a while to lull me even deeper into dreamland. Soon she brought me back into reality, gently cupping my breasts and running the side of her thumbs over my hardening nipples. I rubbed her knees with my hands.

“I have never felt so at ease, Heather.”

“I feel the same, babe. And you know what? It gets easier with each day. I never told you, but I was scared shitless about you moving in with me.”

“You never said anything.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to run you off. But with each day that passed, I grew closer and closer to you. And it wasn’t just the sex and all the newness of my first relationship with a girl. On the nights when we didn’t do anything I felt just as close to you, maybe closer. I discovered that the sex was just the icing on the cake, that beneath the icing was a truly wonderful relationship. It was like it was waiting there for me, all of my life, and you brought it to me on a silver platter.”

“Hey, I gave up Tabitha for you. That must tell you something!”

She laughed. “And I feel so darn guilty about that.”

“Shush. Look what I got in return.”

I turned my head and our lips seemed to meld together. Heather had a fantastic way of opening her mouth in the very beginning of a kiss, as if she were inviting me into the deepest recesses of her body. Our tongues just naturally joined. Every time we kissed like this I drowned in a sea of desire. There was never a time when we kissed this passionately that we didn’t end up making love. And tonight was no exception.

We dried each other off with cotton towels and still totally naked, took turns blow-drying each other’s hair. Heather’s beautiful red hair hung half way down her back. It took a long time to dry and brush it, but I enjoyed doing it for her. We finally crawled under the covers and embraced, our bodies providing plenty of warmth.

“Wanna play a game?” Heather asked.

“Sure,” I replied.

“It’s a number game. If you guess the number you get the prize.”

“Oh, wow. What’s the prize?”

“Whatever you want!”

“Mmm. I think I am going to like this game. Let’s start!”

“Okay. Let’s see. I’m thinking of a number between 68 and 70.”

The little shit. She suckered me into it. “Mmm. Is it whole a number or a fraction? I hope it’s a whole number because I really fucked up fractions in school.”

“It’s a whole number,” she replied, pretending to be exasperated.

“Is it sixty-“

She suddenly interrupted me. “Don’t say it, do it!”

She pushed my head down and I slithered alongside her body, completely under the covers. On the journey downward, I found time to kiss between her breasts, on her belly button, just over her pubic mound, and finally on her thighs. We were side by side, our legs opened in anticipation of each other’s mouths.

“Let’s play another game,” I said, my voice somewhat muffled beneath the bed sheets.

“What’s it called?”

“It’s called ‘mirror mirror in the bed.’ If I do something to do, you have to do the same thing to me. You ‘mirror’ what I do.”

“Go for it!”

Moving my head from side to side, I licked the inside of Heather’s thighs, always by-passing her sex. She followed suit without missing a beat. Using two hands, I spread her lips really wide and circled the outside of her vagina with the tip of my tongue. She did the same thing to me. The feeling was exquisite. I brought my mouth entirely over her vulva and laved her clit with the flat of my tongue. Her mouth soon brought the fever pitch inside me even higher.

Suddenly I pried the cheeks of her ass apart and softly rimmed the anal ring with the wet tip of my tongue. It was time for reality to enter the game. I had already kissed her back there and had even entered her with my finger, but Heather had yet to do anything of that nature to me. Would she reciprocate now?

“I’ve never done this,” she said. The nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I whispered.

She hesitated only briefly before I felt her open me up back there. When the tip of her tongue touched my anus, I moaned out loud. The warmth and wetness on this sensitive part of my anatomy, my nether opening, felt exquisite beyond belief. With nary a coax from me, Heather went to town on my asshole. This might have been her first time, but you would never have known it. Since we were playing “mirror,” I continued my assault on Heather’s little button. We were now in what might well be called an anal “69.” For at least five minutes, we rimmed each other. I was pleasantly shocked when, right after I eased my tongue into her back there, she pierced my opening with hers. When I put a finger inside her and touched the unbelievably soft rectal walls, she did the same to me. I came immediately, screaming out in pure delight. I think Heather was still too nervous to get off on this new activity, but her gasps of pleasure told me she was enjoying this immensely.