The House

Phoebe opened the library the following morning with a smile on her lips, which relaxed the muscles that held her lips so tight and thin. Small children, who didn’t know her, actually approached her with questions. Instead of receiving a tsk, their questions were answered. One small child, particularly cute, actually received a kiss on the forehead, before being told where something was. This new phenomena was duly noted by the community and finally Mrs. Cynthia Pearson, the grey haired principal that had been the first to greet the new owner of the house, approached her.

Cynthia had been widowed young. Because as a teacher and then a principal, she considered herself a pillar of the community, she had never been able to find a second man that measured up to her expectations. Remembering her first man, she was constantly in need of a good fuck, but her only satisfaction came late at night, with a hand on her breast and a finger polishing her clit. She had even considered her best friend Phoebe, many times, during her late night forays into her pussy. The need of a good fucking and the constant harassment by teenage children had made her hard and knowing. “Phoebe,” she declared, “Just what has gotten into you. You seem to be so happy.” She said it as thought it was a condemnation suggesting that her friend had no more right to happiness than she had. Phoebe just smiled not about to tell her about her adventures of the previous evening. She didn’t quite understand herself what had gotten into her, or she knew what had gotten into her, she just wasn’t sure why she had wanted it. The end result was that she didn’t really care; she just knew it had been the most satisfying night of her life. She certainly wanted to be “gotten into” again.

The old friends compared notes about the goings on in the community and of course, the old house and its new young owner came up. Since both had been organizers of the campaign against the old house they had to admit to each other an ongoing interest. Cynthia told Phoebe about going over and introducing herself the previous morning, but having not been invited in. Phoebe, delighted to be one up on her friend, gleefully announced she had been shown through the old house, carefully censoring her story to avoid giving away the fact she had enjoyed the first fucking of her life. She knew it would make Cynthia green with envy, but she was unsure if she wanted to give up her virginal reputation. As it was Cynthia was already green with envy, having wanted to see the house herself. Phoebe commiserated with her and finally said, “You know I got quite friendly with the owner, John, I’m sure he’d allow me to show you through the place.” The next thing they knew they where knocking on the front door of the house. John answered the door and smiled when he saw Phoebe.

“Nice to see you again,” he said while looking over the grey haired lady that stood beside her. “Oh you’re the chocolate brownies,” he noted, “they were excellent. Thank you very much.”

“This is my good friend Cynthia Pearson,” Phoebe gushed.

“Yes I know, I meet her yesterday, the high school principal.”

Cynthia was pleased that he had remembered her and although almost sixty and ready for early retirement, her pussy gushed as she entered the house on his invitation. Even a sixty year old can dream she thought to herself, as she looked over this fine young man.

“Look ladies I only have a few minutes, my mother just phoned and has invited herself to come and stay a few days. She’s going to be here the day after tomorrow and I need to go out and buy some more furniture, and then get back to cleaning this place before she gets here.”

“John, why don’t you just go run your errands and let me show Cynthia around. I’ll lock up when we leave.” Phoebe’s pussy gushed as well, but she just assumed it was because she was seeing her lover again. John accepted her suggestion and left explaining he would be gone for several hours. Phoebe led her friend deeper into the old house. Both women’s nipples became turgid and the gussets of their panties were soon stained with moisture as they looked about. Phoebe was surprised at how little she had seen yesterday as she led Cynthia into what had obviously been the parlor or waiting area. Cynthia whispered to her friend that this was probably where the women of the house had displayed their wares hoping to attract a buyer. Then with a licentiousness, she normally held in check she shook her shoulders setting her breasts to bounce and sway even in the confines of the bra she always wore, as though demonstrating her own not inconsiderable assets.

“You mean they showed themselves off in here?” Phoebe asked in a hushed voice too timid with her friend about sexual matters to voice her true opinion.

“Oh Phoebe, get a grip,” Cynthia quietly replied casually assuming a knowledge she didn’t have, “I bet they ran around in here with naked titties and tiny panties so the men could see their wares and pick out who they wanted. I bet they even spread their thighs so men were teased with quick glimpses of what they wanted to buy.” Cynthia, in an attempt to impress her friend, pretended to a worldliness she truly didn’t have. She lifted her dress and showed off her own thighs. “Men think thighs are sexy you know. What do you think?”

Phoebe did think that Cynthia’s thighs were sexy, but only blushed her reply, keeping to herself the fact that she had also noticed the now rather large moisture stain on Cynthia’s panties, before she lowered her dress. She thought Cynthia would be mortified if she knew she had inadvertently shown off her panties, particularly when they were so wet with her emissions. Phoebe turned and said, “Let’s go upstairs and see the bedrooms.” As Phoebe followed her friend up the stairs to the second floor, she was forced to stop for a moment, reach under her dress and pull the crotch of her panties away from her sodden pussy. They were so wet they clung to her cunt making her feel strangely, interestingly, uncomfortable. Adjusted, she wiped her sticky fingers surreptitiously on her dress before continuing up behind her friend. On the second floor they found, a long hallway with twelve small bedrooms interspaced with a few tiny bathrooms, just a toilet and a sink. They looked in a few of the bedrooms and Phoebe asked her friend, “How many times, do you think a woman had been, you know, touched that way in here?”

Cynthia, her body sending her signals of continuing arousal, became considerable freer with her words than she’d normally be and with a impatient snort, “You mean fucked don’t you Phoebe, how many times she spread her legs for money and got fucked?”

Phoebe hung her head and timidly replied, “Yes I mean fucked.” Then with a boldness brought about by her own recent fucking and the arousal she was currently feeling asked, “When you were married did you like fucking, Cynthia?”

“Yes I did very much,” Cynthia replied in a much softer tone of voice remembering those wonderful days when her husband serviced her needs regularly. Her one regret being that they hadn’t done it more often. While they talked, the two women moved to the end of the hall to a door marked private. The sign had been there for a long time so they were sure it wasn’t something that John had recently put up. Behind the door they found what looked more like a public washroom than a bathroom in a home. Six stalls lined one wall; six sinks another, while the back wall was a large shower space with six showerheads. “I’ll bet this is where they came to wash their pussies afterwards, getting ready for the next man,” declared Cynthia. They both wondered what it would be like to be screwed repeatedly by different men during the course of a night. They left the washroom and headed for the third floor. Cynthia stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. “What is that smell” she asked. Phoebe replied,

“I know, isn’t it strange? John and I were talking about it yesterday. He has tried to air it out but every time he opens the windows, it seems to disappear, only to come back later. It seems particularly strong right now.”

“Well,” said Cynthia in a judgmental tone, “it’s not unpleasant, as a matter of fact I think I could grow to like it.” While Cynthia spoke, she noticed her panties were growing wetter by the second. Even her thighs were sticky from her secretions. She wondered if it was because her friend was so close to her. She knew she had the “hots” for Phoebe, but because of Phoebe’s religious upbringing and her virginal status, she had never allowed a hint of her true feelings. Right now, she needed Phoebes badly, but assumed the subject of their conversation and the environment they were in had brought about her arousal. Little did she know how right she was, how close to the truth she came. But because it was so bizarre, she never took her thoughts further.

The house groaned in contentment feeling the two women’s arousal. It knew they were almost ready to enact the plans it had for them. It pumped more scent into the air around the women that unbeknownst to them, further heightened their already lubricious state. It knew it wanted to bring them great pleasure, just as it had brought happiness to Phoebe the previous evening. It goaded them forward, herded them towards the new four-poster bed. It now understood that Cynthia wanted to drink from Phoebe’s hot wet sex, so it sent further feelings of arousal to Phoebe, causing more juices to be produced. Those juices now flowed down her thighs having long since overwhelmed the absorbent qualities of her panties.

Phoebe felt the new gush of lubricant between her legs assuming it was brought about by her proximity to the bed where she had been sexually ravaged for the first time in her life. Little did she know the old house was seeing to it that her second ravishment was but moments away. “Hurry up Cynthia,” she cried, “I want to show you the new bed John bought. I think it’s perfect for the house.” The house thought so too. Cynthia followed her friend down the hall to the back bedroom. Phoebe froze for a moment seeing her torn bra still lying on the floor, but then realized her friend could not possibly know whose bra it was and relaxed. Cynthia saw the bra the moment she entered the room.

“I guess that handsome young man has a sex life,” she commented, “I wonder if it’s some lucky local woman. I have to admit I wouldn’t mind a run at him myself.” Cynthia free admission of her own desires for a sexual liaison, and the knowledge that she was the lucky local woman put Phoebe over the edge. Once again she overcame her religious upbringing. She forgot that her father would be aghast at the thought of her in sexual congress with another woman. All she knew in her overheated state was she needed sex and Cynthia had just declared she needed sex too. She moved within Cynthia’s personal space and as she angled her head to kiss Cynthia, Cynthia kissed her. Cynthia’s hands were suddenly holding her bum, the bum that John had told her was so beautiful, and was grinding her pelvis against hers. Cynthia’s tongue was dancing in her mouth, her saliva sweet; Phoebe moaned her appreciation into her friend’s mouth, kissing back with a fervor she had not know she had until yesterday.

Phoebe needed another fuck, but she didn’t know how to fuck a woman, and then she remembered how John had eaten her, and how fabulous it had felt. She bent a little and with the hem of Cynthia’s dress in hand, brought it up around her waist exposing her sticky emission stained panties. The panties were quite sexy surprising Phoebe that Cynthia would wear something that risqué. So unlike her own granny panties, she’d really have to go out and buy some new under ware. She roughly pushed Cynthia back onto the bed and knelt between her legs, her hands reaching for the waist band of her panties. Cynthia lifted her ass so her friend could pull the panties from her body exposing her wet, swollen with lust, pubes, completely hairless. She had lost a lot of pubic hair as she aged and finally in frustration shaved the few stray hair that were left. It shocked Phoebe, knowing her own pubes were covered in a luxuriate growth of silkiness. It was the scent that she found most incredible drawing her nose ever closer to the moisture covered thighs and pubes. As John had taught her she began by kissing the moisture laden inner thighs moving slowly towards the target of her desire. She licked her lips tasting her friend’s exudate, finding it sweet, flavorful and attractive. Her advance up Cynthia’s legs became more rapid as she looked forward to tasting the source of this tantalizing flavor. For the first time she noticed the sexual heat emanating from her friend’s body and then with shock noticed how her own body felt so hot, almost on fire. Phoebe’s nose filled with scent as her tongue slid over the bald peach, gathering the stickiness smeared there by the gusset of Cynthia’s panties. Her mouth sucked on the whole sweet peach almost attempting to swallow it whole, enjoying its sweet juice as her tongue wormed itself between the floppy raggedy folds of labia searching for more of the intoxicating flavor.

She could wait no longer. Tearing her mouth away from that wonderful tasty, hot, softness, she stood, unzipped the back of her dress and shrugged it to the floor. Cynthia watched as her friend stripped, noticing how she had to pull at the gusset of her panties, they were so suck to her cunt. Lines of creamy exudate stretched and broke as she pulled them down her legs still leaving lots of delicious juice still entangle in her luxuriant pussy hair. She hoped Phoebe would return to what she had been doing. The bra and soaking wet panties were soon on the floor and Phoebe crawled into bed turned and straddled her friend’s head. ‘Eat my pussy,” she begged, “I need to feel your tongue in my cunt. Oh Cynthia, please hurry, I’m so hot and horny I could die. Her emissions covered twat hovered above Cynthia’s lips her beautiful round ass quivered with need. Her pussy lips fat, engorged with blood for greater sensitivity feeling the heat that engorgement produced. “Oh God fuck me Cynthia, I need it so bad. Finally, Cynthia took sympathy with her friend’s plight. Her hands pulled the soft quivering ass down burying her nose and tongue in her flavorful hot wet folds. The moment she did she felt Phoebe’s tongue return to her own needy gash slathering it with saliva as she burrowed deep. The two women slithered together on the bed each attempting to engulf more of the other’s flesh into their salacious juice seeking mouths. Cynthia caressed the beautiful mounds of ass, pulling them apart giving her mouth greater access to its hairy treat. Until finally, with pussy muffled moans, they came, their bodies racked with the shudders of orgasmic bliss. It was the first lesbian act of either woman but they knew immediately there would be many more.

Soon they were in each other’s arms, kissing their own taste from each other’s lips. Phoebe slowly unbuttoned the front of her lovers dress baring her bra clad lovelies. She undid the front clip and allowed them to fall from their retaining cups. They were large and pendulous, so unlike her small cute ones. Voluptuous in their opulence, with large fat nipples, that demanded a sucking. Phoebe latched on to one sucking strongly sending lovely messages to Cynthia’s pussy. After a while, two of Phoebe’s fingers were stroking in Cynthia’s pussy while she continued to suckle bringing another very satisfying orgasm. They lay quietly loving one another until a powerful realization over came them that John would soon be home. They jumped from the bed, carefully remaking it so that their use of it would go unnoticed. They redressed and Cynthia noticed that the mystery woman’s bra was the same size as her lovers.

The house was happy having felt the two women satisfy each other. There had been powerful orgasms and the house had collected the pheromones the two woman had excreted adding them to its extensive collection. It felt its owner’s approach and began to formulate new plans.

The two women just made it to the foyer when John walked in. “You’re still here!” He said, some what surprised they had spent such a long time in his home.

“Cynthia and I were talking,” Phoebe, explained, “We noticed you’ll never get this place cleaned in time for your mother’s arrival. Cynthia thinks she can get about six former students from her school to help if you would like us to come tomorrow and help?”

“That would be great,” he said. “What time can you be here?”

“We think about nine if that’s okay with you,” replied Phoebe. With the plans set Phoebe searched for and excuse to stay behind so she could talk to John, but nothing came to mind and she left the old house along with Cynthia. After all she thought tomorrow would be another day maybe an opportunity would present it self then.

The house was sure it would.