by D STEP
CHAPTER 3
That evening I was eager to head home. When I was leaving the office Paul had not returned there yet and I was sure, even though it was Friday, that he would still work pretty late as usual. Shoot, he even went to the office on Sundays. Maybe if we had a child together he would stay home more. I wondered how much he would change from work to home if I were to bear his child.
I reached home with just two thoughts on my mind. First, what could I do that was special for my husband tonight? That’s when I realized that I was a bit not-so-creative in that department. I could not think of anything. It was late when I decided to prepare steamed mussels, bistro-style roast chicken, pommes frites with chives, and to finish, a decadent fudgy espresso soufflé for a romantic cocktail dinner. Everything was going to be like a romantic scene out of the movies tonight.
The dinner went cold and I fell asleep before Paul came home. At least my other thought was lighter. I fell asleep with it Jessie on my mind. The thought of Jessie as a companion, someone I could talk to. It was not until seven in the morning that I awoke to my husband buttoning up his shirt to leave. Still, Jessie was at the back of my mind. Why was Jessie stuck in my subconscious, what had she done to embed such a lasting imprint on me? I was trying to figure it all out as I scooped some of the sheet off my belly and wiggled my toes in search of my pink bunny-earred bed slippers.
“Worked late again?” I asked him gently.
“Yeah, working on the Austin twin’s case. I think I might have found something. Did you know that Tony’s daughter was stated as one of the beneficiaries on Austin’s will?”
“Okay, but what time did you come in last night, I had prepared –”
He sat on the bed and was putting on his shoe and before I could complete my sentence he added, “Don’t you figure it strange that a man like Jeanne Austin would add Samantha to his will?”
My voice rose a notch, “Paul . . . I’m trying to say something to you about us. Can we stop talking about work for one second and talk about us? Good God, we are home! What is happening here?”
He looked at me, quite appalled I think, as he sunk his heel into his shoe to finish off getting ready.
“I don’t get what this is about. I do everything I can to make sure we live a happy life, don’t I?”
“You work Paul. That’s what you do. You work. What about time? What about a child? We haven’t had sex in like seven months.”
“Seven? Six.”
“Seven, Paul. Seven. We last did it on our anniversary in June when that…,” I paused before mentioning it, “ever since that thing, happened between us, if that really matters. You want to pull a file out on that too?”
“Clearly something is wrong. I’m over that incident and I’ve told you that.”
“Then why haven’t we spent some time together?”
I really wanted to say “Why haven’t you fucked the shit out of me? I’m dying here.”
“I don’t get it. I have to work. What else do you want me to do? I’m doing all I can. I love you and you know that. I’m working my butt off for us.”
“What time did you come in last night?”
“Uh, a little after twelve. You were fast asleep so I didn’t bother to wake you. Why?”
“I had made a special meal for us. I was hoping we could do something new last night.”
“Something new? Like? . . .”
“Something sexy, Paul. Like making a little baby girl.”
“What’s this baby rush about?”
“I’m not getting any younger Paul.”
“Me either. But I just want to focus on work for now, if I could just . . .”
I threw my hands up.
“For HEAVEN SAKES!”
“What?”
“Can we just talk about us and save the career talk for between nine and five?”
“What is this ‘sexy’ thing about then?”
“US! I’m trying to get sexy to save US!”
“Sexy in that?”
He pointed to my attire. I was wearing Paul’s oversized plaid pajamas. I looked down, indeed it was unsexy attire.
A bit embarrassed, I forwent commenting on it and suggested, “We need to try new sexual things, our bedroom is a bit dull. I’m not afraid to admit that. Good god, I couldn’t even think of something sexy to do for you last night.”
Paul’s face got blank and he started looking over to the drawer for his briefcase mid-way into my speech, “but I’m trying. I’m trying Paul, I’m trying.”
Paul looked over at me and I knew he could see it was a deeply rooted problem for me because his face became emphatic and his motion slowed.
“I just want you to try too. Is that too much for a wife to ask of her husband?”
“No, hun,” his tone was low, “It’s not. I promise you that tonight, I’ll be home early and I’ll have something very special for you, okay? Promise.” Paul was highly respected in the law fraternity because he was always a man of his word.
He peck kissed me on the lips and headed off to work. There was a soft echo in the back of my mind. It was the voice of Kelly as she said, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
I wondered what she meant.
I showered, jumped in a sky-blue, sexy, short skirt, and went to the mall. I knew exactly what I would get for our steamy night tonight.
CHAPTER 4
Turning a Straight Woman Into a Lesbian
I pulled into the dark parking lot under the building. It was really dark… too dark. I suddenly realized it seemed darker than it actually was because I had on my dark oversized sunglasses. In all that darkness, another dark thought crept into my mind, “What if my husband was cheating?”
What if what Jessie had said was true? Or, even worse, what if who Paul was cheating with was none other than Jessie herself? Oh no. No, no, no, Paul’s a divorce lawyer, he’s quite aware of how much he would lose by cheating- half of everything. Though I deserved every bit of the half, I didn’t want to lose the man who took my virginity, the only man I had ever had sex with, the man I got married to, the man I wanted to have children with, Paul. We had come such a long way and I didn’t want to lose all the life that I had given up to him just like that. Was it true that all men cheat?
Should I divorce Paul if he was cheating?
Curiosity was getting the best of me. I pulled my phone out of my black Chanel handbag.
I was at the elevator to go up and decided that I’d take the stairs instead. After climbing my way up to the third floor, my ankles were hurting. It was a terrible idea to take the stairs in these five inches Louboutin heels. I’m not all stuck up in fashion or anything. In fact, I was going to wear sneaks originally, but they would not have looked as nice with my skirt and these light blue heels were amazing with my tight skirt. I liked the way they accentuated my shapely legs. They always made me feel sexy and today was no different. I boarded the busy escalator on the third floor going up to the fifth, to the Angel’s Lingerie Boutique. That’s when I caught a glimpse of a redhead on the opposite end going down.
Immediately, it reminded me of Jessie, but it wasn’t her. This redhead was a boy it seemed, with shorter hair, black sagging jeans, metal goth belt, and a red and black plaid button-up long sleeve with the top half of the shirt worn opened up.
At a second glance, with a slight turn of the person’s face toward me and the person going farther and farther away, the face looked a bit feminine. I popped my glasses off and concentrated hard to see clearly, maybe slightly hoping it was Jessie, thinking if it was her she could actually help me pick out something sexy. As I strained my eyes even harder, the person was already at the end of the escalator ride. They turned right and headed out of my sight.
After trying on one teddy-style lingerie set and four bustier-style lingerie sets thinking they would go well with my heavily-endowed bosom, I finally fell in love with a purple lace-up corset with garter belts. As I was deciding whether to finalize my purchase, t
he redhead walked into the store with a friend’s arm latched around ‘her’ waist. It was indeed a girl. I decided I was done now; I felt a bit shy trying on anything else knowing more customers were in the store.
CHAPTER 5
First Time
I stepped back into the changing room quickly, hiding my body and the lingerie from the glances of the other women. Thoughts of Jessie spun in my mind. But that redhead couldn’t be her—she always dressed so professionally in the office there was no way she was into all that Goth look stuff. And a girlfriend? I had gotten the idea Jessie was single. And straight. I shook my head at the mirrored reflection staring back at me.
My breasts really were outstanding in this corset, the deep purple gorgeous against my skin. I looked younger. If Paul didn’t want to fuck me dressed like this, then he had to be cheating. Hell, I wanted to fuck myself. Right here, right now.
The idea stuck in my head. I glanced down my body in the mirror. I’ve never tried anything racy or risqué before. I’m sure IF Jessie were here she would say stop being dead, start to live, be a bad girl. I took a considering sigh. Why not? Why the hell not. Oh just let me this one time touch myself in public.
I eased a finger between the ribbon ties of the corset. Finding my nipple, I stroked over it. My head tilted back. My mouth hung open. The nipple pebbled and grew sensitive. I flicked it back and forth, groaning at the feeling, spread my legs a bit, widening and steadying my stance. My knees were shaking.
Suddenly, from behind me, I heard the changing room door swung squeakily open. I looked past my shoulder in the mirror, my finger stilled, and my eyes half-lidded.
“Jessie?”
“Whoa, Cindy,” she squealed, then clapped a hand over her mouth and whispered again. Entering the changing room, she closed the door and locked it. I shuffled forward, still lost in a daze, and sat on the little bench facing her. My hand rested inside the corset, over my breast. Her eyes darted there and she smiled, a soft, knowing smile.
“You are supposed to lock the door.”
“Oh.”
We stared at each other, then my gaze trailed over the sexy numbers hanging from her hand.
“Pretty colors. I like the red.”
“I like your purple,” she replied. Her hands moved to rest on my shoulders. Her grip warm and strong. She dropped her collection of lingerie on the seat beside me. “Getting something for your husband?” Her pouty lips—how could I think them so masculine only moments before?—flattened into a smirk. A teasing grin. “Or yourself?”
“Paul,” I stammered. She stepped closer and it’s was as if I could now feel her shadow overcast on me.
“Wrong, Cindy. Always buy lingerie for yourself. If it turns you on it will turn your partner on. Sexy is not in the clothing. Sexy is in the confidence.” Her words reached into my heart and soul and tugged me from my stupor. She was right. I was beginning to understand Jessie almost always was. “And I’m pretty sure this little number turns you on quite a bit.” She stroked one palm down from my shoulder to cover my breast. She trapped my hand within the corset. “Having some fun?”
I nodded. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t be.” Her hand tapped against my chest. I felt her fingers, small and slender, ease beneath the neckline and caress the top of my hand.
“I thought I locked the door.” My voice was shaky, huskier.
“No harm, no foul.” Her other palm stroked up the column of my neck. I shivered with anticipation. I had thought her my husband’s affair. But now, now I knew she wasn’t his type. She was mine. I felt desire pool low in my stomach. I felt moisture wet my panties—the black satin thong I wore beneath the corset.
Her hand cupped my chin and lifted my face so that I was once again staring into her deep blue eyes. The touch of her feminine lips on mine sucked the breath right from me, and I tremblingly whimpered my surrender. She brushed her lips across mine, igniting passion. Lots of pent-up passion. Months of passion. I moaned, my eyes closed. I opened under her tutelage and my first female kiss became a wonderland of exotic desire and unique flavors. A whole cultural exchange program.
Jessie’s tongue tiptoed cross my threshold. I licked the tip and my nerves exploded with fire. With flaring, warm heat and a million promises of what to come. I licked at her again and then again. She complied, sweeping her tongue inside my mouth and tasting me. Different from Paul, Jessie seemed to think like me, knowing exactly what I wanted and then give it to me. Where Paul took, Jessie gave. It was amazing and exciting. My heart fluttered and skipped.
Pulling back, I followed Jessie. She helped me stand. My arms draped around her neck and I hauled her close, aching to feel her against my heaving bosom. I kissed her back. I tasted her mouth and fed from her lips. Taking the bottom one between my teeth, I nibbled her tender flesh until her lip was bright red and flushed with blood. Pleased, I let go. She grinned, cheeks pink and eyes flashing.
“Wow. Paul doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I wonder what more is he missing.” She winked.
“Find out.” I replied, forgetting where I was and what I had been doing. I had never thought of myself as a lesbian and still, as this was happening, I didn’t think I was. Curious. Curiosity drove me this time. And Jessie’s confidence. I saw my body in her eyes, saw myself as she did and I was gorgeous. I wasn’t too old, too boring, or too prudish. I was an adventure-seeking x-gen stretching my wings and taking the world by storm.
Jessie’s fingers untied the ribbons I had loosely tied crisscross down the front of the corset. I was wearing nothing beneath and as the opening gaped, my full size D breasts fell free, spilling over the lower half of the corset. She didn’t bother untying any more of the ribbons. Cupping one breast in each palm, she lifted and separated them. I was pleased to note I filled her hands and then more.
Kneeling before me, she leaned forward and lapped at my peaked nipple. Her finger and thumb worked upon the other one. She licked around and around the sensitive bud. Bouncing my breast in her hand, she plumped it, dragging her teeth across the tip. I shivered and whimpered. Grinning, she opened her soft mouth and sucked the whole areole in. Latching on with her lips sealed, she began to flick my nipple with her tongue and suckle. My body arched on the bench and I nearly fell off. Her thumb and forefinger were pinching my other nipple, sending shocks from breast to breast.
A low keening filled the dressing room. A gentle knock came at the door and I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.
“Miss?”
Her eyes flashed to mine, but Jessie didn’t stop. I cleared my throat, took a deep breath and answered the store owner.
“I’m fine.”
I don’t know if she believed me but I had never been so happy with a floor to ceiling dressing room in my life. She didn’t say anything else and I heard no key scraped at the lock, so I nodded at Jessie. One last lap of my nipple and she pulled back, a trail of her saliva connecting us.
“Still hungry” her whispered tone, her eyes, her smile, all predatory. Goosebumps formed on my bare skin.
Jessie’s fingers stroked my damp panties. I planted my palms behind me on the small bench and leaned back, spreading my legs. She caressed my folds through the fabric, slipping two digits inside the elastic and shifting my panties aside. Her mouth on my slit and I had to shove my fist between my teeth.
Sure, Paul had gone down on me once or twice, but it was never like this. She knew how much pressure I needed. She knew how to kiss and tease my clit, knew how to work her fingers inside my core and draw my moisture from me. She nipped playfully below my clit, nudging my flesh with her nose in a sensation I was at a loss to describe. All I knew was that with just a bit more I was going to come. On. Her. Face. In. Public.
Her lips kissed my folds and working her tongue inside with her fingers, she curved her digits and tapped my G-spot. Once. Twice. Again. Again. Her tongue tasted my essence. Tangling my hands in her short red hair, I pul
led her up my body. Her chin glistened with my juices. I yanked her up, bent closer and licked the juice from her chin. Kissed her wet lips deeply, moaned into her mouth, her moan into mine vibrated in my throat.
She moved her wrist hard and fast. The sloppy noises of my cunt drove me closer and closer to the finish line. Her thumb pressed to my clit, she stroked as deep as possible within my sheath.
“Oh, my god!”
“Jessie?” A woman’s voice startled me. Had the owner come back?
Jessie froze. My eyes watered, my thighs quaked. Please, no! Don’t stop.
“Kelly?” Jessie replied.
“Yes. What are you doing in there?”
Smiling at me caught in my so-close moment, she answered, “Cindy.” Then, with a final thrust, she knocked me off the precipice and I came. Loudly and completely.
EROTICA: LESBIAN ROMANCE FANTASY STORIES : CONTROLLING HER TONGUE
Older Woman Younger Girl: Wife's Taboo F/F Sex: A Girl's First Time Erotic Thriller and Drama Fiction 2015
Cheating Wife Slow Domination Control Collection Series
Vicky Lick
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EXCERPT from - CONTROLLING HER TONGUE
Jessie’s puppy-eyes looked up again,
“Do you want me to eat all of that now ma’am?” She went into an obedient slave character.
“Are you questioning me?” I asked
“Oh no ma’am. I wouldn’t.”
I yanked into her hair.
“Are you mocking meeee?” I snarled as I yanked and showed my teeth. “Do you want me to spank you little girlllll?”
“Yes ma’am, yes.”
“Then I won’t!”
I rammed her face hard onto her creamy sodden panties. My essence smelled heavenly, she nuzzled in it. A round cream spot transferred from my soaked panties onto the point of her nose.
