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Chapter 8 (Friday and the weekend)
I slept wonderfully through Thursday night and woke at 9:45 with dim but pleasurable memories filling my head. I found myself lying in bed completely naked. My legs ached and my pussy throbbed subtly. I slid my hand between my legs to give it a soothing stroke and realised my mound was totally bare. When I climbed out of bed I saw at the foot of my bed a dark grey body stocking that I had not owned the previous day, and in my living room a very crumpled black dress on the sofa.
I smiled and switched on the coffee maker.
During a long soak in a hot bath I sifted through the previous evening' events and tried to make sense of it all. Mostly, the Dems had adhered to the ‘Look Don't Touch' rule but Vikki & Abigail had been exceptionally imaginative. Stevie of course had completely overstepped the mark but I had enjoyed my time immensely.
I struggled some more with my dilemmas including ‘Just what do I tell Emma?' and ‘Am I a latent lesbian?' I convinced myself that I was not because I had not touched another woman's breasts nor her genitals and I had not kissed her. In my self-justification, rubbing my pussy on another woman's did not count; neither did caressing a woman between her legs with only the thinnest and most tightly stretched wisp of fabric separating my finger from her clitoris. So, I was in the clear.
I dressed and sat at my laptop, tapping intermittently as I composed my report. Satisfied that I had discharged my responsibilities as fairly as I could, I raided the fridge for an early lunch before visiting the Regent Street Passionella sales outlet. The new Bodystocking range was prominently displayed and very well presented. I was served politely but I did not try on anything as I found it hard to concentrate. My mind was already thinking about the weekend and my promised encounter with Kirsten. I stopped by the sports department to pick up some active-wear for the following morning and some food for a quiet evening in front of the TV.
I slept fitfully that night, excited by the prospects for the weekend ahead.
**********************************************
Clambering out of bed I threw back the curtains to let the bright, fresh morning light flood my room. I took a wonderfully refreshing shower in the middle of my lovely bathroom and I towelled myself dry, congratulating myself on a body that both looked and felt terrific. But there was more to come – this morning I was to meet Kirsten at the health club for some physical exercise and to plan the rest of our weekend together.
I arrived early and I slipped on my new blue bikini that covered what it needed to, but not much else. I dived into the water and felt a sensual rush as the refreshing water encased my body. The suit was quite thin and I could feel the coolness on my breasts and especially on my pussy, realising that this was the first time I had swum with a shaved peach. I enjoyed the feeling enormously as the water rushed between my legs with every stroke.
“Hi, sorry I'm late,” Kirsten called to me from the poolside.
“Come on in, get yourself wet!” I yelled and grabbed her ankle to pull her in. She saw it coming and dived in beside me where we splashed around like kids and laughed a lot.
As I climbed out, I noticed that my bikini had become virtually transparent so that the outlines of my cold, protruding nipples were clearly visible. But Kirsten was looking lower down, with a quizzical expression on her face. I could feel the cold fabric of my strappy bikini bottoms clinging to the curves of my smooth mound and forming a taught crease in the centre between my legs where it had gate-crashed my slit. I ignored her and returned to the changing room where I stripped and dried off. Kirsten joined me and I realised the reason for her puzzlement.
“Where have your pubes gone, sweetie?” she exclaimed, looking straight at my crotch.
“It's a long story,” I started, “Lets get a drink and I'll explain.”
I told Kirsten all about my experiences at the launch party, in frank and explicit detail. She was captivated and shifted constantly on her seat. I told her about Fiona and how she had come for the first time in ages and I told her all about my time with Stevie and how she had shaved me.
“You lucky, lucky girl,” drooled Kirsten. “I'd give almost anything to get that sort of attention from Stevie. She great. Go on, any more sleaze?”
I recounted Vikki & Abigail's erotic bondage show as best as I could remember and I was obviously arousing Kirsten with my increasingly explicit descriptions. I took advantage, speaking more slowly and sensually as I added more detail. By the end, when I described how I had very nearly come just from watching my two naked, tethered and cruelly-restricted Dems, and how I frigged the bodystocking on my pussy to bring myself to orgasm, Kirsten was breathing quickly.
“Sounds terrific. You're a pretty horny babe, Julie,” she observed, correctly.
“What about you then?” I asked. “Not serving canapés all evening, I imagine!”
Kirsten had demonstrated for a new customer who had recently started to shop in the Oxford Street store. “Her name is Xara and she is gorgeous. She's about 35 but looks younger. She's tall and quite slim, she's got a tight bum and lovely long, soft wavy blonde hair. And … ”
“Well?” I encouraged, in eager anticipation of what might come next.
“… her breasts are just fantastic. They are so large and so sexy and squeezable and, and, so, so … well, pendulous !” she exclaimed with obvious delight.
I had seen a woman fitting this description at the party but she was demurely clothed so I hadn't noticed her figure.
“Julie, we had a terrific time together in Bronze. She tried on virtually every bra in the Passionella range that comes in her size, 38DD. She wore lacy bras and satin uplifters. She tried heavily padded bras that made her look huge and low-cut designs that she nearly spilled out of. My favourite was a sheer bra that encased and enfolded her breasts perfectly. It didn't support them very much but that was the beauty of it – it didn't disguise their proud, rounded and pendulous shape, it merely emphasised them. Julie, she looked fantastic.”
“So, did she do anything else?” I enquired, eagerly, “other than just wear clothes and look fantastic.”
“Well, yes, of course. She tried the new chair.”
I looked at Kirsten questioningly.
“Didn't anyone show you the new relaxer chairs in Bronze, Silver & Gold?”
I shook my head, but I had remembered seeing a kind of reclining chair in some of the rooms.
“Oh, my. You do have a treat in store! They were specially made by a client's company that designs and manufactures specialist furniture and equipment for dentists, physiotherapists and clinics. Linda drew up the specification. They are covered in soft, supple calf leather to match each room and they tilt in all different ways. They have head, arm and leg rest that can be raised and tilted. And they have straps too.”
This sounded rather exciting. “Did you strap Xara to the chair?” I enquired.
“She stripped naked and we adjusted the leg-rests so her knees were lifted high and wide apart. But I only strapped her ankles to the chair. Oh, and her calves … and her thighs too. And, yes, I did strap some wide belts around her waist and her upper body, above and below her breasts. But only because she asked me to. Quite tightly actually, just so she couldn't wriggle free you understand.”
“Then?”
“Then she borrowed a ‘house' vibrator and basically just lay back and fucked herself all the way to oblivion and back again. I counted four orgasms but she may have had more. She ran the buzz over her breasts and spent ages on her nipples – I love watching a client do that – they grew very long and really hard. That's how she came the first time.”
“What, just by teasing her nipples?”
“Yes, I've never managed it myself but I'd heard it's possible. I thought it was most likely if you have small, tight boobs and big nipples. But no, Xara with her massive drooping boobs must have super-sensitive nips, or maybe it's all in the mind and she can think herself wild.”
I was fascinated and leant forward, encouraging Kirsten to continue.
“Anyway, then she rubbed the tip over her pussy slit and her clit for at least 15 minutes and came at twice more; she said the chair was great because she could relax and didn't get tired holding her legs up and wide apart. I gave her sips of drink as her mouth was so dry from panting and crying out. Finally she fucked herself to another orgasm with the vibrator thrust deep inside her and pronounced the new chair a great success.”
Kirsten's vivid description of Xara strapped in a tilting chair getting herself off had me squirming in my café seat and I had to change the subject to divert attention away from my pussy: “Come on, let's hit the gym.”
We worked out on the exercise machines for an hour or so. But every piece of equipment seemed to have leg rests or foot straps or adjustments of some kind and I kept thinking about Xara in that chair. My leotard felt wonderfully tight around my body and it rubbed my nipples into hard points. This, combined with the rhythmic movements of the exercise bike and the weight machines just made my pussy twitch even more.
After lunch at the gym, Kirsten and I went our separate ways, arranging to meet at our favourite Belgian restaurant at 7:00 pm.
************************************************
Terri arrived at my apartment exactly on time at 2:30 and immediately busied herself cleaning and tidying. I'd been careful to put away all my clothes and my personal items to make it easier for her and she complimented me on my tidy lifestyle. And on my hairstyle. And my clothes, and my skin, and my figure, and my shoes.
Then she started to open up and tell me more about herself, how she came to be in England and about her life back ‘home'. She hadn't had a happy childhood; “My father never said that he loved me; he was always running me down. I grew to distrust men, not actually hating them, but I have always found it difficult to form relationships with men. So now I'm a practising lesbian”
I was totally shocked by her frankness and hid my embarrassment behind crass humour: “keep practicing and you'll become perfect” I blurted out. Terri began to cry and I put my arm around her to comfort her.
“Sorry,” I apologised, “I didn't mean to be flippant, you surprised me.” I took a tissue and wiped away her tears.
That's when she kissed me.
************************************************
As I dressed to meet Kirsten I tried to put the afternoon out of my mind. I showered and paid special attention to my skin and hair. I shaved under my arms and my legs and I shaved the first light re-growth from my peach. I was very careful not to nick my soft skin and I enjoyed the attention I gave to my sensitive self, causing my pussy to swell and moisten again. This was becoming a regular occurrence.
We would be going back to Kirsten's apartment after our meal together so I packed a small bag with some very special items of clothing. Then I chose what to wear. First I selected the black, backless bodysuit that I had bought when I met Vikki the first time in Manchester. That should get Kirsten warmed up nicely, I thought. Then I poured myself into a pair of very tight trousers and slipped into a sleeveless top that showed off my cleavage nicely without giving away any secrets of what lay beneath. I grabbed my bag and strode confidently into the warm early-evening air.
The restaurant was about 10 minutes walk and I savoured the admiring looks from the men and women sitting outside the trendy bars along the way. But I had promised myself to another, my all-seeing but un-touching colleague, partner and friend.
When I arrived, Kirsten was already there, wearing a thin strappy top with obviously nothing underneath so the twin shapes of her unsupported 32B breasts were clear for all to see. Her nipples sat prominently on their swollen areolae and prodded forward aggressively. She wore a short denim skirt with bare legs and plain shoes. I'd hoped she would have dressed more the part of the sensual temptress but I enjoyed looking at her anyway. So did many of the other diners.
Kirsten and I talked animatedly but neither of us was very hungry. My reason, and I think Kirsten's was the same, was that I was just too excited and already far too aroused by the day so far and the thoughts of what lay ahead. We picked over our food as Kirsten explained her plan:
“Julie, we must walk back to my apartment on opposite sides of the street and pretend we are alone. We mustn't be seen going in together.
“Then?” I enquired …
I waited outside her door for a moment then knocked as agreed but there was no reply. I knocked again louder and Kirsten shouted ‘just a minute'. I was getting more excited as I waited and when she finally opened the door I gasped in surprise. Kirsten had changed her clothes and was now wearing a long, clinging gold satin dress with a wide patent leather belt around her slim waist. She looked so elegant, so different from the casual girl in the restaurant. She invited me in and had cocktails already poured, scented candles burning around the room and sophisticated music playing in the background. I started to speak but she put a finger to her full, glossy-red lips; she beckoned me in and passed me a glass. We drank a few sips and Kirsten started to dance, just small sensual movements, and she pouted at me.
My heart was already racing and my tight trousers were firmly wedged into my bum crack so they rubbed against my arse-hole and my pussy whenever I moved. I started to dance to Kirsten's rhythm and I felt tremendously excited, not knowing what she had in store for me next.
I didn't need to wait long to find out. She walked to the other end of the room and stood facing me and made direct eye contact with me for what seemed like ages. She slowly moved her hands to her breasts (which were obviously now supported by an undergarment) and very, very slowly closed them over her boobs, squeezing them and letting out a long, low sigh of pleasure. By now she had her legs crossed under her long dress and she pushed out her bum, a move guaranteed to put pressure on her pussy. She gave away her inner feelings by closing her eyes dreamily as she danced.
As she continued to twist, sway and squirm provocatively I tried to work out what she might be wearing under her dress but she was giving away nothing. I started to ask a question but again she touched her lips with a long elegantly manicured finger. Shit, I was feeling so frustrated by her slow, teasing, controlling performance.
Kirsten turned to face me and beckoned. I stood closer to her and she breathed her hot, sensual breath on me and looked at me so, so sexily with her beautifully clear blue eyes. Then she crouched slightly and pretended to suck my nipples and to teasingly nibble on them, pulling a wildcat expression on her face.
Kneeling still lower, she sat back on her haunches, moved her face right up close to my crotch and spoke for the first time since I'd entered the room. But not to me, to my clothed pussy.
“Oh, pretty baby. How are you feeling in there? I bet you're feeling so hot and horny! Are you wet?”
I/it was.
“Oh, I do hope so. Do you like what I'm doing to Julie? Do I turn you on with my body, my clothes, my movements? I'm sure I do. Are you opening up? Are your soft, smooth shaven lips parting, as if you want to speak to me?”
They were.
“What would you say if you could speak? Would you say: ‘Kirsten, you are a very sexy lady – I want you to touch me. I want you to press your fingers on my parted lips and open me wider. I want you to slide your fingers in and out of me and I want you to rub my clitoris with your thumb?' Pussy, oh sweet sexy pussy, do you want to come? Do you want to reach a thrilling, satisfying orgasm?”
Of course it/I did.
“Why don't you come out to play? Shall we ask Julie to take off her clothes?”
I needed no more prompting. Having Kirsten talk to my pussy like that was the most arousing thing I could imagine. I pulled my vee-necked top over my head in a single swift movement and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my slinky trousers, pulling them down over my hips. Kirsten glided slowly around me, making sensual admiring noises. Standing behind me, she unclipped the fastener on the back of my bodysuit and allowed it to fall forward. My breasts spilled out and the rush of air caused my nipples to stiffen even more than they already had. I shuddered, sighed and whispered Kirsten's name.
Frantically I pulled the rest of the bodysuit down over my thighs and in a moment of delirium I almost touched myself between my legs but Kirsten commanded: “No!”
I remembered the rules, but my body ached to feel a hand on its naked flesh. Mine, Kirsten's anybody's. But not tonight.
Looking straight at my now-naked crotch, Kirsten spoke some more:
“Is it good to be free, to be released from captivity? Let me see how wet you are and how open your lips have parted.”
Immediately I placed my feet wide apart and Kirsten crouched between my legs. I felt so vulnerable, so naked yet totally unashamed. I trusted her and she smiled, looked up at me then she blew on my pussy. I cried out in pleasure and desperate, pleading frustration.
Kirsten stood up and pointed to the belt around her waist. I undid it just as instructed and cast it aside. She then shrugged the dress off her shoulders in what I suspected was a well-practised movement, leaving it in a luxuriant heap on the floor, and finally revealed what was underneath.
Kirsten was wearing a sheer bustière in the most extravagant silk, mesh and appliqué, with spaghetti-thin straps that tracked over her shoulders from the outer edges of the cups and two more straps that ran upwards from between her breasts and disappeared behind her neck, halter-style. Looking further down, my eyes were drawn to her skimpy, matching thong-style briefs with twin spaghetti-straps that reached around her waist on each side, high above her hips. Finally, her slim legs disappeared just below the knee into a pair of skin-tight, high-heeled black leather boots, which explained why she'd looked much taller than her normal 5' 3” frame. In fact, she looked devastating.
“Another new Passionella design?” I enquired, my mouth dry and parched. Kirsten just nodded with a self-satisfied smile and slowly turned around.
Her smooth, muscular body was almost totally naked but for a riot of narrow straps that all met centrally in the small of her back, without the slightest attempt to conceal her tight, rounded buttocks. I counted a total of 18, which collectively implied ‘bondage and control' but by their apparent weakness also spelt ‘vulnerability'.
At last Kirsten spoke: “Do you like it?”
“Oh, Kirsten, of course I do. You look sensational.” She knew it and once again she started to move around me in time to the music, all the time pouting, posing and wriggling her barely-covered body. As she moved, the thin straps only emphasised her gorgeous shape. Those attached to her thong rode even higher on her hips and her boobs seemed to be climbing out of their delicately constraining cups.
“Julie, shall I take it off? Shall I?” she asked, teasingly. I couldn't wait.
“Oh yes, please. Take it off so I can see your body, as naked as mine,” I pleaded submissively.
“No,” she replied, firmly. Shit! I was about to lose control.
“Fuck you, Kirsten, you teasing tart,” I exclaimed, “How can you …”
Kirsten stopped me abruptly.
“You take it off me.”
Kirsten turned her back to me as I figured out how I to release my securely-bound present. I unclipped each narrow strap in turn but Kirsten made it difficult for me by continually swaying and enticingly grating her hips. Finally, her silk bustière fell away from her luscious breasts and I needed every last drop of scarce self-control to stop myself from grabbing and squeezing them.
“Are they just as you remembered them?” she teased, “Are they proud and sensual? Do they make you want to rub your pussy, just like you do when you are alone in your bed thinking of me?”
How did she know?
“Yes, Kirsten, they are so sexy,” I confirmed, “but will I ever be able to touch and feel them?”
She avoided my question and continued to speak. “Julie, I have something else you might like to see. Julie, have you seen my pussy?”
I shook my head like a bashful child, standing naked before her, becoming desperately aroused by her commanding performance.
“Have you?” she asked again, adopting a more dominant tone. She knew perfectly well that I hadn't but still expected a response.
“No, Kirsten, I haven't.” I replied meekly, not daring to even anticipate what she might say next.
She said nothing. Instead she slipped two fingers under the sides of her thong and pulled it down over her hips. She wriggled her legs at the knees and the thong fell as far as her booted feet, which she then placed as far apart as the thong would allow stretching the thin straps tight between her black-leather-clad ankles. She stood upright, reaching upwards and stretching her arms high above her head. Her boobs rose high on her chest and her belly stretched taught and flat. I was mesmerised by her naked, tempting body.
“You may look now,” she announced.
I obeyed. I squatted down in front of her with my knees apart, acutely aware that in this position my own pussy was stretched wide open. My inner lips were grossly swollen and I felt like my clit was on fire.
I looked closely. Kirsten's pubic hair was neatly trimmed and the sides of her mound were shaved leaving just a narrow vee of dark curls pointing downwards to her vulva. I could see her labia glistening and protruding below her tidy bush and suddenly I smelt a rush of her heady, personal perfume. With my voice quivering and high-pitched, I dared to ask Kirsten to turn around.
Obligingly, she kicked off her thong and slowly turned her back to me. She wriggled her bum a couple of times and planted her booted feet squarely on the floor a full 3 feet apart. She was facing the mirror and I could see she had her eyes closed. She moistened her lips with her tongue, put her hands high on her hips and in her reflection I saw her breasts rise on her ribcage as she drew in a long, deep breath.
Kirsten then slowly leant forward, bending from her hips and keeping her back and her legs perfectly straight. She exhaled deeply and sank her torso down below horizontal. To keep her balance, she thrust her buttocks towards me so her pussy was so close to my face that I could have licked it, if I had wanted to. But that was against the rules.
Kirsten's pussy looked so hot, wet and inviting, so open and engorged, aroused, exited and very, very sexy. I feasted my eyes on its intricate folds and picked out the tiny, smooth bud of her clitoris. My nostrils filled with the erotic heavy scent of her sex as Kirsten rhythmically squeezed her pelvic floor muscles so that her soft, pink vulva pouted at me. A large droplet of her pussy juice oozed out of her vagina and trickled slowly down along the length of her labial lips. She moaned loudly as finally it settled under her hood, right on her clit.
That's when it happened.
I came. Spontaneously.
I let out a long wavering cry and my taught leg muscles went into spasm. My tummy tightened and beads of perspiration broke out on my forehead, my back and my chest. My pussy pulsed for what felt like forever as a long, powerful orgasm washed through me, reaching deep inside. I clasped my hands around my knees and squeezed my thighs together. I shuddered, gasped for air and struggled to keep my balance as wave after wave of sensual pleasure consumed me.
And I hadn't touched myself at all.
I opened my eyes to find I had slumped back onto the floor and Kirsten was offering me a cushion to support my head. I was shivering and she pulled the duvet off her bed to cover me. I smiled up at her as she wrapped a bathrobe around herself.
Eventually I broke the silence.
“Oh, Kirsten. I … did I … was that … what …”
Kirsten put her finger to her lips. “Well done, Julie. Yes, we did it. I knew we could.”
Kirsten made coffees for us both and we sat quietly for a while. Trying to make sense of what had happened, I explored Kirsten's depth of experience, asking her: “Do you have orgasms in your sleep, ever? And how do you know when you wake up?”
Kirsten frowned. “Well, I often have sexy dreams and I dream about having orgasms, but when I wake up I can't be sure that I actually came in my sleep. Sometimes I'll wake feeling relaxed but also wet between my legs.”
I questioned her further.
“Would anyone in the same room as you, even in your bed, know if you came?”
Kirsten thought momentarily.
“They might, but no-one has ever told me. Anyway, why all the questions?”
I paused to collect my thoughts then started to explain.
“I had a dream recently. A really, really sexy dream and in my dream I came, but I don't know if it was real.”
Kirsten raised her eyebrows and gestured for me to continue.
“It featured someone you know. Terri. She was cleaning around my apartment and we were talking and laughing about all kinds of things and the subject got around to sex. Terri told me she had no regular partner but that she had a lot of close friends. One of her friends had just sent her a belated 20 th birthday present and she asked if I'd mind if she opened it right there – she had it with her in her bag. I agreed immediately as I love surprises, but what a surprise! Terri took out a long slender parcel and ripped off the gold foil paper. The box inside was plain white and securely sealed. I lent her a pair of scissors and when soon she retrieved the contents she gasped and froze for what seemed like ages.
“Inside was the most beautifully formed dildo you could imagine, made of perfect crystal-clear glass. It was about 10 inches long and I estimated at least 1½ inches in diameter. One end was fashioned into a tulip-like shape, slightly larger in diameter than the main shaft. The other end had several grooves, I guessed to make it easier to grip.
‘Wow, this is fantastic,' she exclaimed ‘how did she know this was something I'd always wanted?' Terri held it up in a most provocative way, asking me: ‘have you ever seen something so beautiful, Julia?
“In my dream I shook my head. Then Terri asked me point blank: ‘Shall we try it out, right now?' Without hesitating I said yes and encouraged her, not sure what ‘we' meant. Terri took it to the kitchen and washed it in warm soapy water, running her hand provocatively along its length and massaging it with the slippery soap. ‘Mmm, this is so long and so, so smooooth' she drooled, closing her eyes.
‘Do you have some lube?' she asked me with a raised blonde eyebrow; I handed her a small tube of some wonderful stuff described on the pack as the Nearest Thing to a Woman's Own Lubricant, which she squirted onto the palm of one hand. ‘Now, let's get this ready' she said as she smeared the lube up and down the shaft as though she was masturbating the thing to a long slow climax. Her hands were expert in the way they followed its shape and she paid special attention to the tulip-head knob. I found this highly arousing and was feeling so hot that I spontaneously and shamelessly started to undress. Under my day clothes I was wearing a red bra and panties set, just like this:”
I confused Kirsten by mixing dream with reality as I pulled my racy ‘Hen Night In The Fountain' set from my bag. “To add authenticity, shall I put them on?” I asked. Kirsten looked highly perplexed but agreed that I should. I stood up and slipped my arms through the bra-straps and knotted the front tie-fastening between my boobs. Then I pulled on the briefs and secured the ties at both sides on top of my hips. “There,” I said, cupping my breasts in front of the mirror before continuing the story:
“Terri loved my red underwear and called me a sexy tart, which I liked to hear. But she upstaged me by taking off her working clothes to reveal the most exotic lacy matching bra and pants, totally unexpected under such ordinary day clothes. It fascinated me and aroused me even more to think she had been cleaning may apartment dressed like that under her every-day jumper and jeans.
“She rubbed the glass shaft some more and then asked me: ‘Do you think it will fit inside me, Julia?'
“I replied, anxiously. ‘Terri, you are so slim and I guess your pussy is small in proportion. You must be very careful not to hurt yourself. ‘That's why I need it to be so well lubricated – do you think it's ready?' She showed me the shaft and I could see thick smears of lube glistening all along its length. ‘Yes, I think so' I reassured her.
By now, Kirsten was enthralled by my story and was sitting right on the edge of her bed like a young child hearing a fairy tale read by her father. “Go on, then what happened!” she demanded.
“Terri leaned back on my sofa and pulled her lacy panties to one side so I could clearly see her pussy. It was already stating to spread open and her blonde pubic hair glistened moistly. But I was worried because it looked so small compared to the large tulip-head that she now offered up to it. She closed her eyes and moaned quietly as she pressed the tip against her labia, twisting it back and forth and prodding herself. Her small, exquisite pussy lips started to part around it and large drops of semi-liquid formed as her own juices mingled with the artificial lube. She twisted it and pushed it, she gyrated her narrow hips and she moaned and cried with frustration but she simply could not penetrate her vagina.
"Then she asked me to assist: ‘Julia, please help me to get this monster into my tight, aching pussy, you sexy tart.' she wailed in frustration. How could I refuse? I took hold of the slippery shaft with a quivering hand and guided it in the direction of her love-tunnel. But I feared pushing too hard, as I didn't want to hurt her. Even in real life, Kirsten, I've never pushed anything into a woman's cunt, not even into my own.”
Kirsten looked surprised. “Really?” she asked, with difficulty, as her mouth was so dry.
I confirmed what I had said and continued.
‘Wait, I have an idea' exclaimed Terri. She stood up to her full height, easily 2” taller than me, and walked over to where two of my minimalist storage cubes had been pushed together. She stood on them, planting her slender feet wide apart, and crouched down as if she was going to pee. ‘Here, bring that monster over here' she instructed.
“I guessed what she wanted so I held the dildo vertically with its grippy end resting on the cubes and its tulip-head pointing menacingly upwards like a spacecraft ready for launch. Terri positioned herself carefully over its slippery tip and again pulled aside her lace panties to expose her open, dripping pussy. I held my breath as I steadied the glass rocket.”
“Shit, Julie, what did she do?" Kirsten demanded to know, her voice quite weak and wavering now. "Tell me what she did, Julie, tell me!”
Before continuing, I pulled my red panties high on my hips and shivered as I felt the cool damp patch that had formed between my legs. I pulled in my tummy muscles and re-enacted the dream as best I could, mimicking Terri's movements and copying her contorted facial expressions.
“She slowly and very carefully sank down onto it. She gasped and then she cried out as it made contact with her lips. She controlled her slight body-weight, causing the muscles in her calves and thighs to spasm and her taught skin to break out in beads of perspiration. Then, very gradually she lowered herself onto it and, from my position kneeling on the floor in front of her, I saw the glass tulip-head start to disappear into her secret sanctuary. As she bore down, her lips parted and she was able, little by little, to slowly force the head of the dildo further into her cunt.
“Kirsten, she had her eyes closed and she was biting her bottom lip. She put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself and continued her inexorable journey downwards, stopping for a moment then easing herself down a little more as the huge tip of the glass sex-tool gradually disappeared inside her.”
Kirsten was panting hard by now and she threw off her bathrobe. “I'm getting so hot, Julie. Go on ...” she insisted.
“After what seemed like ages, the entire head eventually disappeared into her cunt. Terri seemed to relax momentarily as her slippery labial lips closed around it, as if to prevent its escape, and copious streams of her natural juices oozed down the long shaft. Some ran down onto my hand, collecting in a small pool and making it difficult for me to keep a firm grip on her intruder. Then, taking a deep breath, Terri cried ‘Yesssssss' and sank her body down in one continuous movement so that the long length of the slippery, clear glass dildo penetrated her, smoothly, until it was deep inside her tight vagina."
Kirsten visibly shook as she listened intently.
“Terri yelled and she screamed and she sobbed: ‘Oh, Julia, that's wonderful, that feels oh, so good inside me. I feel so full . Oh Julia, I wish this were your prick. I wish you could fuck my cunt with a long stiff prick just like this. Fuck me, Julia, fuck me hard,' she demanded, 'hold on tight!'
"Slowly she started to move her whole body up and down, continuing to steady herself with her hands on my shoulders as I struggled to hold the dildo still. Kirsten, you know, I desperately wanted to slide one hand inside my red panties and frig my own pulsing, swollen clit which, as you can imagine, was crying out for attention. The whole spectacle, the outrageously sexy and arousing situation, was making me feel like I had never felt before. But I needed both hands to grip Terri's crystal space-invader so I had to resort to rocking my hips back and forth so my clit rasped against the inside of the protective red fabric stretched taught and wet between my legs. I squeezed my knees together to heighten the intensity of the feelings now engulfing my smooth-shaven passion-fruit and turned my attention back to the job in hand.
"Terri leaned more of her weight onto me and increased the rhythm of her self-penetration. She slid her pussy up the dildo, then back down again at precisely-timed intervals so most of it disappeared inside. Occasionally she would stop with the tip just touching her wet cunt; she would hold it there for a moment then rock on the balls of her feet to cause her pussy lips to slide repeatedly across its tip. Then she would bear down again and swallow the entire length of the dildo deep inside her, brushing her blonde pubic hair against my hands and coating them with fresh cunt-juice. She repeated this cycle several times before shifting position again so now the tip rested against her small clit. She rotated her slim hips with minute, almost indiscernible movements as she became totally absorbed in the feelings of the smooth polished tip sliding inexorably from side to side and round and round over her bud, that highly-sensitive collection of nerve endings that must have been sending PLEASE!, NOW! messages to her brain."
"What happened?" pleaded Kirsten, "did she come? Did she?"
"No," I recounted.
"Just as I was sure she would let herself go, she changed position yet again. She lowered her torso and slid her pussy down over the length of the dildo once more and held herself motionless with easily 8 inches buried deep inside her and regained her composure."
"By now, Kirsten, I was wild with passion. I left the phallus firmly embedded in her cunt for a moment so my hands were free to pick up a bottle of mineral water. I took a long drink to moisten my throat and Terri tilted her head back so I could pour some of the cool, refreshing liquid into her dry, open mouth. She could speak now and begged me: 'Julia, get me out of this bra, quick!" But she had her hands still firmly gripping my shoulders to steady herself so I was unable to slip the straps off hers. Terri motioned to the table behind me. Picking up the pair of scissors she had used to open the present, I waited for Terri's nod of approval then I started to cut her bra straps. As I severed each one, her small firm breasts dropped only slightly. I could clearly see her erect nipples straining against the light lace that struggled to keep them in check. They formed prominent shadows in the centre of the dark circles of her areolae, easily visible through the delicate fabric. I reached behind her back to unfasten the clasp.
'No, with the scissors!' Terri instructed, looking downwards. I understood and, hands trembling, I then cut through the narrow piece of satin that held the two bra-cups together. To my delight, her small pert 32A breasts immediately broke cover as the lacy bra fell to the floor behind her. Her nipples stiffened some more and grew larger as the cool air hit them and they thrust forward from her taught, widely-spaced boobs. They pointed towards me only a few inches away from my face but I resisted a powerful urge to suck, lick and nibble them, much to the annoyance of my twitching pussy.
“The smell and the heat from Terri's engorged and very full cunt filled my nostrils. I looked on transfixed as beads of perspiration oozed from the pores of her young, smooth, tanned skin and trickled down her body. I poured more mineral water into her open mouth and some spilled over and traced in rivulets down her neck. Twin streams ran down her chest and over her lovely breasts, collecting at and dripping off her erect nipples. Teasingly I blew gently onto each one in turn and they grew even harder and stiffer from the cooling effect of the evaporation. Her areolae almost disappeared as their dark flesh puckered into two hard, fiery teats and the surrounding creamy flesh of her breasts pulled into tight, firm cones. The sight was exquisite but I had to tear away my gaze to concentrate again on the main source of Terri's pleasure, but not before I'd acceded to her request to cut off her pants too!
“I grasped the dildo firmly with both hands as Terri raised herself off it. She sat back on her heels, tightened her flat tummy muscles, arched her back and tilted her pelvis up to thrust her pussy forward. Then she raised and lowered her whole body so her clitoris slid up and down the entire length of that glass shaft. Her pussy lips enfolded around it and the glass acted as a slightly blurred magnifying glass. Through it I could see the swollen pink bud of her clit slithering up and down that magnificent smooth pole."
‘Shove it inside me, babe!' (I recounted Terri's exact words with theatrical drama, to Kirsten's great enjoyment).
"I obliged and drove the rod upwards, so deep inside so I barely had enough slippery glass left to hold on to. 'Twist it!' Terri demanded, so I rocked it from side to side and I rotated it every way I could. Terri was shaking all over. Her eyes were tight shut and her mouth was wide open. She dug her nails painfully into my shoulders and she gasped for air."
I looked across at Kirsten who was, by now, lying back on the bed, propped up on her elbows as she watched me. Her eyes were wide open as she unblinkingly hung avidly on my every tantalising word and watched intently as I acted out Terri's erotic body movements from my dream. Kirsten had her legs spread apart with her spiked boot-heels dug deep into the luxurious carpet. Her face was flushed pink and her naked body was tense and alive with the energy of her obvious heightened state of arousal. Her own pink pussy was spread wide open and it glistened in the room lights as her juices oozed over its surface. “Oh, Julie, I can't stand this anymore!” she protested. “How could you fuck the gorgeous Terri like that and not so much as touch yourself? I'd have frigged myself to Nirvana and back again if it had been me holding that fuck-rocket."
“Kirsten, I didn't need to. At that moment, Terri and I both came with massive cries of pleasure from the shared physical and emotional release that our simultaneous orgasms brought. Terri climaxed from the feelings in her cunt and me just from the feelings in my head. I had to hang on tight to the dildo for fear that it would be sucked right into Terri's vagina as her pelvic muscles continued to pulse and contract with the power of her intense orgasm …”
At that moment, as I explicitly recounted the intimate details of our crashing climaxes, Kirsten too let out a long real-life cry not dissimilar to Terri's. That's when I realised that she too had climaxed, just as I had hoped.
Kirsten threw her head back and moaned as her thigh muscles twitched and tightened, then she fell back onto her bed and began to laugh with pleasure. “Oh Julie, I've done it, it's happened. We've done it.”
Yes, that evening, Kirsten too had joined the no-hands club; she had reached the goal of a spontaneous climax, without and physical contact. And I was proud that I had successfully brought her to orgasm by words alone.
We dressed in our casual clothes and sat quietly, clutching coffee mugs and pondering the evening's events. Kirsten and I had developed a very close understanding, some would even have called it love, but neither of us was ready to enter into a full-blown physical-contact relationship. In any case, we would both lose our jobs if Linda found out and I certainly did not think of myself as a lesbian. We had both enjoyed the evening's activities immensely and quickly drew the same conclusion.
"Could you do the same for Linda?" Kirsten asked me, with her head tilted quizzically to one side. "It might be enough to enable her to overcome the aversion she has to masturbation that emanates from her terrible experiences at school."
Thinking long and hard, I finally spoke.
“I'll give it a try," I replied, torn between feelings of excitement and trepidation.
“Julie, you're a star, thanks so much for, well, just being who you are," Kirsten gushed, with a broad smile on her face. Then she stood up, put her arms around me and planted a long, passionate kiss on my mouth.
“I'll have to talk to Emma, she will be able to devise a plan that Linda won't suspect."
************************************************
Monday mornings were usually fairly slow and uneventful at PROM but today Emma was surprised that Kirsten, one of her best Personal Shoppers, was waiting for her in reception when she arrived at 10:00 am.
"Emma, I need to talk something over with you, is now a good time?"
"Kirsten, you know my door is always open but can you give me a few minutes to get my feet under my desk? I'll order you a coffee, your usual?"
Kirsten nodded and took a seat. Rachel was sitting at her desk looking as gorgeous as ever even though she was a bit quiet, suggesting she had spent a very enjoyable if overly hedonistic weekend. She was dressed in yet another outrageously-provocative and very loose interpretation of corporate dress code, or rather un-dress code in her case. Her unbelievably firm 34Bs were fighting to escape from the sides of her high-neck but sleeveless stretch ribbed top, obviously unrestrained by a bra, and her long silky auburn hair caressed her bare shoulders. She smiled a coy smile and looked away from Kirsten's admiring stare.
Rachel's phone rang and Kirsten overheard Emma's voice inviting her up. Rachel looked directly into Kirsten's eyes then swivelled hers in the direction of the stairs, indicating without a word that she could go on up. Then she winked.
Kirsten breezed into Emma's office and sat down on her sumptuous leather sofa under the window. Emma made small talk then asked her directly why she was there, so early on a Monday.
"Emma, something incredibly significant happened to me over the weekend …"
Kirsten recounted in some detail the events in her apartment and the significance this had for Linda's 'problem'. "Julia is just so sensual and so provocative. Her imagination is so powerful and her sexuality is so intense that she was able to come spontaneously. OK, I put on a bit of a show for her but I doubt that I would have had such a stimulating effect on anyone else. It's all in her mind. Then, when she told me about her ‘dream' in such vivid detail, well I could have come much earlier but I had to hold myself back just so I could hear the ending!"
Emma listened intently and Kirsten could tell she was becoming aroused as the events of Saturday night unfolded. She unfastened another button of her white blouse and shifted awkwardly in her chair.
"Kirsten, I agree with you." Emma stood up and walked over to the window. "Julia represents Linda's best chance she might ever get of overcoming her sexual dysfunction. I suggest that none of us let on to Linda that Julia knows she can't come, and certainly that they even went to the same school. Look - I have an idea! You know that Linda always threatens to go 'back to the floor' and actually work in the stores and advise clients?" Kirsten nodded and tilted her head to one side to signal 'continue'.
"She believes she could improve the services we offer if she met some clients in real-life sales situations. I'll take her up on the idea and get her out into the stores. Then we can ensure Julia meets up with her on one of her mystery shopping sprees. They can interact as client and sales demonstrator even though they both know their true positions in the company. It wouldn't arouse - oops, sorry! - create suspicion in the store. Remember, the sales demonstrators mustn't discover Julia's true role."
"Brilliant!" exclaimed Kirsten. "I'm sure the high-risk scenario of erotic role play with the president, right there in the privacy of a top store's changing room, would bring out the best in Julia. And the neutral ground and fictional enactment of their encounter would relieve Linda of the pressure to maintain her composure as head of the company. Let's go for it! Does anyone else need to know?"
"I'll have to involve C as marketing and training manager as she would need to know that Linda was going 'out and about'," explained Emma. "But she needn't know why - she'd be jealous as hell too!"
Kirsten took the responsibility of explaining this plan to me and I loved the idea so much that my pussy signalled approval by swelling and moistening slightly and I felt my nipples grow as Kirsten elaborated. Linda would spend a day at each of 5 London stores during the second week of May and I would 'mystery-shop' the Regent Street store the day she'd be there. That gave me a month to plan and practice my 'show'.
Emma broached the subject with Linda who, apparently, was luke-warm initially but Emma assured her that it was best for the company and convinced her that it had indeed been her idea in the first place.
********************************************
Life continued as normal and I continued to enjoy my work as Mystery Shopper. I travelled extensively and spent as much time as possible at the new stores that Passionella had recently opened in Bath and York. At the weekends I widened my circle of friends but remained frustrated that I could not socialise more with the gorgeous store Dems for fear that I might blow my cover.
I spent hours in the gym, toning up my figure without building hard muscle and enjoying the effect the exercise had on the flatness of my tummy. I was also sure that my breasts were becoming firmer and maybe a little larger. I was having more difficulty fitting them into my usual 34B size but to my delight I found I could afford to wear very low-cut deep plunge bras. These exposed vast amounts of my firm, cream flesh pushed upwards and together in a deep, rounded and eye-catching cleavage to rival even Rachel's. I spent many happy hours admiring myself in front of the mirror, both at home and in the stores, and wearing thin, clingy tops and deep-plunge necklines as the weather became warmer. I enjoyed the surreptitious glances of both men and women who played the age-old game of ‘is-she-or-is-she-not-wearing-a-bra?' and I flaunted myself unashamedly as I strutted the streets of some of the country's most stylish and sophisticated cities.
I thought long and hard about how I might be able to fuck Linda with my body and my voice without actually touching her. I needed to understand just what might turn her on. OK, I knew that basically it was beautiful women semi-naked in sophisticated lingerie, that's the whole raison d'etre for Passionella UK. But I needed something more specific. So I used my Passionella credit card to good effect at the beauty salons, experimenting with different hairstyles and looks. I walked the streets and frequented the trendy bars of London, carefully gauging the reactions of women from the same age and socio-economic groups as Linda. I spent time practicing my erotic body language and role-playing various situations that might arise between us and I bought some sophisticated day clothes as well as a daring evening outfit for the next Passionella launch party.
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