Tricks My Boyfriend Taught Me

At the clink of large mouthed martini glasses, Tasman glides across the hardwood floor to the other side of the liquor cabinet.  It is hard to make a good cocktail without ice cubes, but what the hell, she muses.

With the contraction of each swallow, Sam feels her face flush deeper.  It is that kind of flush that betrays when a woman is in heat, and it is that flush that varies with each and every throat.  Some women flush in patterns that can easily be outlined from the ear to the edge of their bosom, while others throb and whiten so that each attempt leaves the trace to a disappearing route.  The marks on Sam were of the more mesmerizing kind, where the onlooker sees the prey, but is disoriented by the camouflage.

One decisive move forward and Tasman has her victim pinned against the wall with one hand behind the small of Sam’s back and the other grasping the palm of her hand. The only gap left open was for sweet surrender.  With an equal verve, Sam thrust her mouth upon her aggressor, and greedily sought gratification with rasps from her tongue.  What warmth was found there in the wetness of this crevice!  Sam could feel her body heat push through the openings in her blouse, which she was now frantically opening with her free hand.  Tasman still had the other palm pressed in some type of wrist lock, using the joint pressure to manipulate her playmate’s body against the wall in the same way an experienced rider uses the bit to make her horse cruise through a field.

Sam could feel a wet liquid enter through her stocking between her toes.  Must be the gin and grenadine dropped in the first maneuver.  Soon the smell of the alcohol would combine with the heat of their feet, and it would mingle with the scent of the heavy perfume Tasman was wearing and then with the unmistakable odor of lust. Mmmmm, Sam could already smell Tasman’s body manifest its excitement.  With each inhalation, Sam wanted to let her free hand leave the safety of Tasman’s black mop of curls to wander between this lover’s thighs.  Just to make sure that it was her wetness that was filling the air in these tight quarters.  “Ahh, yes that is it lover, let go of my free hand” she silently writhed, “and yes, oh god, move it there.” Within seconds, Sam found her fingers moving the lace thong covering to the side of the stranger’s pussy, to slide along the wet slit – and it was dripping with moisture – into what could only be described as acceptance.

At this point everything in Sam’s mind blurs with moans of exasperation and pleas to remove articles of clothing where her body could no longer stand the restraint of clothing.  First to go was the blouse that was already half-unbuttoned.  Next the double-slit skirt fell to the floor to soak in liquor and sweat.

Mmmm, release my tits, baby, thought Sam. The nipples need attention too.

Tasman had other aspirations.

“Spread your legs, and whimper louder,” she ordered in her smokiest voice. “Uhhh-hunnh, that’s it touch me like you’ve always imagined doing, but let it linger to make me suffer for being such a bad girl.”  The playful tactics only heightened her readiness to make this lousy detective come undone at the trained fingers of an old pro.  Tasman remembered her first experience with another woman.  It must be driving this kid nuts.  To be lost in the fog of newness, with someone you know to be dangerous, will certainly be the fuck of her life.  “But first off with those nylon stockings.  Slowly.  I want to watch you do it.”

“Only if you will do the same after I finish.”

With a nod of acknowledgment from the predator, Sam moved to the arm of the sofa and spread her thighs wide apart.  It was a trick she used to do to turn on her boyfriends.  She slowly would release each garter snap and peel each stocking off  until it reached just above her knees, then she would turn around, bent over the couch and remove her panties.  Then with a quick move she would flip back facing frontward, and arching her back over the arm, she would take off the stockings to her toes.  This was the killing move that would make any guy so hard that drops of semen would be spurting from their cocks.  She began to masturbate, arched back and all, until they had to rescue their manly right to fuck her body into surrender.  Just so.  And surprise, surprise, it works just as well with chicks.  Tasman was on her knees burrowing her tongue deep into Sam’s ripe snatch.  The pleasure was too much as Sam moved her hands through Tasman’s hair, moving her head until she could feel her first orgasm come, followed by slower, deeper shudders.