Several weeks after the little party at their house, Stephanie and Rich were still in disbelief. They had talked of playing around and even kidded with several friends, and couples for that matter, but never had expected anything to happen, nor had they planned anything. They were just in awe of it ever having happened and even though the four had pretty much agreed to another 'encounter', it happening was very much up in the air. It's not uncommon for something like that to happen and after a bit, 'buyer's remorse' sets in and at least one of the participants freaks out and has second thoughts about reliving the event, or so Rich and Steph had read. Well, whatever happened, happened. Now, they had enjoyed two very interesting encounters. The first with Dave and the second with her co-workers.
Steph dropped by Sandra's house for an early lunch. They had known each other since high school having been in the same home room. Sandra had put on weight and her breasts were a bit saggy after pumping out five kids, but she still looked very good. Stephanie hadn't been an exercise freak so she wasn't all tight and toned like those who attend a gym every other hour, but she had held onto her looks so very well that no one even cared, well, other than Steph. Even though she had been told how great she looked, she just couldn't see it. Not uncommon among women over 40. No matter how good they look to guys, somehow they don't accept it. Over 40 is NOT 20, but hell, most guys over 40 realize just how much BETTER those women look. REAL WOMEN are a joy to behold. All the things that women see as flaws, most mature guys see as proof of being real and nothing is sexier than real. But that was neither here nor there.
Sandy met Steph at the door and welcomed her in. She had just gotten out of the shower, apologizing for not being good to go, explaining all the things that cropped up as she tried to get ready. Steph brushed off the apology saying there was NO need since, "shit happens." Sandy asked Steph is she minded waiting while she got dressed. Steph said, "It's your house. We're not going anywhere so if you MUST get dressed, do so, otherwise, relax and just have a visit with me." Sandy was grateful, especially since finding the right clothes might take her 10 minutes to an hour, even though she'd known Steph for so long. She pulled at the cords on her robe and said, "You're right, screw convention! I'm a rebel!"
Both laughed at that little joke considering that Sandy had been the most conforming individual, and straight laced person Steph had ever known. They had Mimosas and some fruit while the eggs cooked. They talked about just about everything, getting caught up on whatever had been going on in their lives since their last visit two months ago. Sandy's husband had a new job with better flexible hours, Steph had seen the new Clint Eastwood movie but still wished Leonardo Di Caprio would do more films, etc. By the third mimosa, both were so relaxed that nothing could jar them, so Steph decided to just tell Sandy about what she had been dying to tell SOMEONE for so damn long. She began with, "Sandy, I've got something to tell you that will either disgust you, or turn you on like a light switch. I know you too well to feel you'll be disgusted." With that she giggled.
Sandy was all ears. Sandy had never been very sexual in school, but she loved to listen to the 'war stories' her friends told. Then she married Miles Standish, in other words, a fucking Puritan. He liked to have sex, but always missionary and only once or twice a month. Hearing the REAL exploits of someone, especially a trusted friend, was something she lived for and Steph kind of knew it. She began her story. Sandy was all ears.
Steph started to tell the story in detail, graphic unblemished and uncensored detail. She described how she felt (and WHO she felt) second by second, pulling no punches. Sandy was very, VERY interested. Steph could see Sandy getting a bit flustered and her breathing was getting heavy.
"Should I stop? I mean..." Sandy cut her off, "NO! IF you stop, I'll kill you!" came the immediate reply. Steph could take a hint. As she continued, she noticed that the more detail she gave, the more Sandy began to shift in her seat. Slowly Sandy slid her hand into her robe. Steph had almost forgotten that the robe was all that Sandy had on. She watched as Sandy reached in with her left hand and began to pinch her right nipple. This was becoming as interesting for Steph as for Sandy! Steph continued. She got to the part where she stuck her finger in Dave's bum and watched as Sandy's thighs tightened and began to rub together. Oh hell, this was amazing. Steph was acting as an erotica story teller and Sandy was totally wrapped in the words and visualizations.
Step continued, but as she talked, she put her hand on Sandy's knee, as if to emphasize a point. At first it was just that, a friendly touch, but suddenly she got a little turned on and watched for Sandy's reaction. She kept talking, rubbing Sandy's knee as she did. Sandy's breath was short and shallow. Not even realizing she was doing it, Sandy spread her legs a bit. Steph moved her hand up but only a bit, and kept on talking.
Sandy was done, that was that. She couldn't take it any longer. She grasped Steph's hand and pulled it into her. Steph's fingers could feel the wetness. Sandy's bush was almost non-existent. This was a first for both of them. "Keep going," Sandy moaned, not being totally clear if she meant story telling or rubbing. Steph did both.
Sandy's mound was moist, firm and inviting. The outer lips had parted to greet Steph's fingers and welcome them in. Steph simply let nature do the work. She slid her fingers into the crease of Sandy's womanhood and kept telling the story. Sandy moaned and held firm to Steph's wrist, working it like a vibrator, "Go on, go on," she repeated.
