I am one fine piece of work. Or so Eve thinks. On a drive to Atlanta, I picked up a beautiful young hitchhiker. She just happened to be a prostitute specializing in a female clientele. Of course, she charmed me right out of my expensive pants. The lady was a professional who adored her work. On the first night of the day that I picked her up, she fucked me intermittently all night. It was the best experience of my life. She didn't charge me a cent, but I slipped some money in her bag anyway. She had given me a whole new sexual perspective.
Eve said that a woman really wanted to be fucked by another woman. It didn't matter if she had a man or not. She did things to me that I would never have imagined that gave me such intense pleasure. As she fucked me, she told me what her clients -- the politician, a young mother--asked of her. Things they could not reveal to their husbands. It turned me on to hear that a local politician had Eve wear her mother's pearls and perfume when she rode her. Or the fact that a young mother wanted it only in the ass with a fat red dildo as she watched in the mirror. This was a whole new realm of fantasy.
At home, I began to observe women. I saw grace and beauty and colors. Women laughed and embraced and enjoyed each other. I saw girls with creamy breasts in push up bras, wet t-shirts and strings up tight asses on the Gulf of Mexico; slashes of skin and navel under tiny pieces of clothing. Some tongue-kissed each other on Bourbon Street or in the movie theaters. My good friend hoped that her daughter was just going through some weird phase when she observed her on their security camera 'doing nasty, naked things' with a girl. I didn't tell her otherwise. Her daughter will always be doing another girl.
I drove to the university campus supposedly to observe some potential background scenery for an ad campaign. I was really girl watching. I stared as a group of touring, college-bound girls moved toward me. They were decked out in their little catholic school uniforms. Most of the skirts were too short. Sisters had long ago lost all control in this area. I would bet at least one of them was daring enough to be without panties. Did some of them fuck each other in the dorms? A brunette from the group locked eyes with me as she approached. Could she read my motives? Was my body language giving me away? Was she the one without panties? I got hot just imagining my hand feeling under that little skirt. She smiled as she dropped her pen, bent over in front of me, and gave me a quick flash of naked ass.
I had to get some. Soon. Even though I am 35, I would prefer a girl-woman of 19 or 20--somebody young and sweet that I could teach what Eve taught me. She'll need to be strong and flexible like myself. Someone open to learning and experimentation.
My husband, an older man chained to a golf course, bought me a partnership in a business when I expressed my boredom with our marriage. I dusted off my master's degree in business and went to work in my small advertising firm. My salvation soon came in the form of a 20-year old university student interning for the summer at my business.
"Sydney with a Y," she said as she introduced herself in her Boston accent.
Beautiful, voluptuous Sydney. She was a blond, green walking wet dream for a man or a woman. She wore form fitting skirts and heels. Her voice was proper and refined. The sassy way she paraded around the office smiling and flipping her long hair, kept every eye trained on her. The girl came from old money judging by the names of her parents. My,my. Privileged, cultured pussy. What perfect lagniappe.
I had to time everything just right for my first move on her. She needed to be put in a position of helplessness. One Monday just before quitting time, I called her into my office. "Sydney, there have been complaints that you spend too much time on the telephone. I've also noticed that you've come in late in the mornings and after lunch. We cannot tolerate such blatant disregard for the rules. If it continues, we will have to terminate your internship."
Sydney bolted from her chair and began to pace and apologize. She worked herself up and the tears began in earnest. I moved in. "There, there Sydney," I said patting her shoulder, "there's no need to cry. Just promise to do better."
"I can't help crying. I love working here. I'm learning so much."
Everyone else had gone for the day. I pulled her into my arms to comfort her. My hands smoothed her blond hair, and landed lower, stroking her back. Slowly, my hands moved to lightly touch her firm ass. My pussy throbbed as I touched those globes. She stiffened a little but said nothing. I rubbed her a little harder as I surreptitiously pulled her into me.
"Mrs. Smith, I never...this is not." The words stopped when I pushed my tongue in her mouth. She joined my passion as I took her mouth in endless wet kisses. Her erect nipples signaled her arousal and strained toward my own. She pulled back. "I want to be cooperative in the office, but...you want something else...to fuck me.. don't you? You're a married woman, for heaven's sake? I've never done it with a woman."
"Calm down, Sydney. Mr. Smith will never find out. And we're all alone here, remember? You do know that women have sex with each other, don't you?" I began caressing her back again and kissing her cheek.
