BDSM Library - Ann and I

Ann and I

By An Erotic Pet

Chapter One

Perhaps it was Ellen DeGeneres who rekindled my interest in women, but I'd also always loved the music of Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls, and they also provided subtle reminders of the attractiveness of a sexual relationship between women. Everyone goes through passages on life's journey. I'd always found women to be attractive and more sensual than men. I believe that to some degree, everyone is bisexual. When I think back to my early sexual development, I recall that my first fantasies involved girls, but I think like the majority of people, those flickering sparks were snuffed out, buried under the more traditional images that inundate us on a daily basis. A man and woman in love, a masculine kiss on feminine lips, only the jock can date the prom queen, and the message that if you did not find love with a man and create a healthy family, that something was terribly wrong. Society likes things to run according its accepted script, even though no one's life does. That was how my life went, I tried to navigate and stay within the script as best I could. I may have been living a lie the whole time, or perhaps I was just working my way through phases. Someone once told me that we change molecularly every seven years. So it may have been a physical or emotional evolvement or it may have been simply because my path crossed Ann's. Whatever the dynamics, my life changed in a way I could have never imagined, in the course of one extraordinary morning.

My morning schedule is like clock-work. Rise at 6 and put on the coffee, start to prepare the breakfasts and lunches and make sure that the husband and my two daughters leave home well prepared for the day ahead. There is a subtle reward to it all, knowing that you are helping others, and while the contentment is small, sometimes that is all we need to get by. This day was like any other weekday. Cecil was off by 7:15 and the girls and I were on the road by 7:45. The girls' schools are close by, and by the time I dropped off my youngest daughter at 8:05, I had little in the way of expectations for the day, except to stop by the store before heading home for a morning of cleaning, washing and preparing for the next round of driving appointments and dinner preparation.

I like getting my shopping out of the way early in the morning. The supermarket's customers are relatively few and there is the early morning energy of employees primping the shelves with colorful flowers and freshly misted produce. While I don't listen to Muzak at home, its mellow sounds blend well with the morning feel. I grabbed a shopping cart and strolled the aisles, thinking of recipes for upcoming meals, the peculiar tastes of my family and perhaps finding a treat I might enjoy with guilty pleasure later in the evening. I had no reason to think my life was about to change.

I save the produce for last with obvious reason, and as I strolled into that section, I was greeted by the bright colors and scents of the various harvests. I sifted through the lettuce, bagged a few beautifully colored McIntosh apples and then began to idly weigh and sniff some delicious looking cantaloupe. My time honored test is to bring the cantaloupe to my nose and inhale, searching for the sweet scent of a perfect fruit. As I breathed in a nice ripe melon a female voice spoke softly, but firmly;

"How does it smell?"

Standing by me was a tall, well proportioned woman, perhaps in her late 20s or early 30s. I didn't know her and she didn't look like a typical suburban "mom". She was not dressed particularly professionally or in typical casual housewife fashion, and her demeanor was not that of a harried mom or working wife. Instead she wore a smart cashmere cardigan, with a gypsy skirt, tastefully artistic necklace and earrings and hair that was mid-length and well-cut, but not overly styled. Her makeup was light, almost undetectable, but her handsome features were such that she needed little in the way of adornment. She exuded an air of confidence and success, perhaps being a single, successful person involved in something artistic, or perhaps someone fortunate enough to enjoy a life afforded from a generous trust fund. I was a bit startled and at first gave no response. People, particularly strangers, do not typically speak to each other at the supermarket.

"How does your cantaloupe smell?" she said again, her lips moving to a curled smile as she finished the sentence, her sparkling green eyes set on my mine.

"Oh, it smells wonderful. They have good produce here." I replied, still surprised she was speaking to me, but disarmed by the playful, innocent tone in her voice.

I began to place the cantaloupe into my shopping cart, but before I could, she reached out and wrapped her manicured fingers around my hand and the cantaloupe. She brought both to her nose and breathed in, still looking into my eyes.

"Mmmmm, it does smell delicious", she purred, cupping my hand and the melon close to her nostrils.

I was a bit stunned by her taking my hand so casually. It had also seemed that she could have been speaking of either the melon or my hand or both. She slowly released my hand and I put the melon into the cart, ready to smile a good-bye. However, before I could move on, she spoke again;

"Would you mind choosing a few cantaloupes for me?"

I consider myself a friendly, helpful person, but I also felt a bit put upon by this stranger. "Why don't you sniff your own melons?" I thought, but then caught myself. In an off beat way she was paying me a compliment.

"Oh, it isn't that difficult to find a good cantaloupe", I replied, "Just feel if it is firm and then sniff right on the end. If it has a sweet, fresh scent, then it is ripe and ready to eat."

I went through the act, demonstrating to her how it was done. She stood close to me, smiling. Her smile seemed to particularly shine as I completed my sentence with my nose pressed close to the melon's end. My mind went back to questioning whether I was being mocked, but I decided to not be upset and instead found a few nice ripe fruit and handed them to her for her to place in her hand basket.

"I love fruit salad in the morning", my new acquaintance replied, without giving a word of thanks. "Try this blackberry, it is delicious" she continued.

Without waiting for an assent, she plucked a large, dark, juicy berry from her basket and pressed it to my lips, as if feeding a small child. Torn between wanting to reject the offer and yet not wanting to create a scene, I parted my lips and let her slide the berry between my teeth. However, as the berry set upon my tongue, her finger followed it, touching lightly and lingering on my tongue, before slipping slowly out, brushing against the inner edges of my lips. The berry juice was delicious as it trickled down my throat, but this woman's smile was almost devilish. "Does she realize she is rude?" I thought, "Or is this a person who has a young spirit, who is playful by nature?" The act had a sensuality to it that could have been seductive had it not taken place so brazenly in the middle of the produce section at 8:30 in the morning.

"Mmm, it is good" is all I replied.

"Yes, it is. Very good", she said softly.

Her gaze still fixed on my eyes, but seemed to take in every part of me and made me feel the imperfections of over 30 years of life and 14 years of motherhood, particularly since she was so handsome and poised. After an awkward moment, I sputtered,

"Well, I'm going to check-out now, thanks for the berry."

"You're very welcome", she replied, "I'll go with you"

She moved alongside me as I steered my cart toward the check-out lines. Before I could estimate which line would make for the quickest exit, my new acquaintance spotted a clerk in the process of opening his register and quickly commanded,

"Let's go here."

She grabbed the front of my shopping cart and steered in into the empty check-out register, setting her basket on the counter's belt. As I began to load my items behind her basket, I saw her quickly converse with the clerk, but didn't pick up on what they discussed. She only had a few pieces of fruit, some cooking oil and a package of batteries. She swiped her card as the clerk began to then ring up my larger selection of items. She idled by the exit aisle as my bill was totaled, but when I went to pay, the clerk stopped me.

"Your friend paid for you" he said, handing her the receipt.

"No! You can't pay for this." I exclaimed, looking at her with startled surprise. Again, I was unsure whether to be affronted or thankful for this stranger's over-generosity.

"Oh please, dear. These things all even out in the end." She smiled confidently back.

The clerk had begun to check out the next customer, and I realized I really didn't have an option if I didn't want to inconvenience others, so I accepted her generosity and thought how one nice act perhaps leads to another. I almost felt guilty about my earlier thoughts of her forwardness and thanked her several times, she waving me off as though money were not a big consideration for her.

As we stepped outside, I prepared myself for the farewell. My black Explorer was parked on the other side of the lane separating the store from the main parking lot. However, her red Fiat sports car was parked just outside the exit door and she clicked her key ring, turning off the alarm and unlocking her doors. She popped open her passenger door, set her purse and sack in the back, and then stepped back to me. She moved close, extended her hand and then held onto my hand as I moved to exchange her greeting.

"My name is Ann and I am in town for an exhibit at the college. I am alone at the Hyatt and don't feel like eating breakfast by myself. How about if we share a fruit salad at your place? I'll provide the fruit and all you need to provide is the company. Deal?"

Her hand remained wrapped warmly on mine. The feel of her hand was firm, but also very gentle and assuring. Her smile and fixed gaze were the same as she'd had when we first met. I felt sort of sorry for her, although I was still felt a bit of the shock from the blackberry incident. Part of me screamed out that this was just too strange, too different from the routine of my day, while the part of me welcomed the attention.

"Oh gosh" I stammered, "I probably shouldn't. I have cleaning to do today and my house is a mess."

"It isn't a worry" Ann quickly replied. Releasing my hand, she then took my shopping bags out of the cart and placed them in the back of her Barchetta. "I'll just follow you. We will have a lovely morning." As she set the last bag in her car, she moved close to me and asked, "And what's your name, dear?"

"Deborah", I replied.

"It's nice to meet you Deborah", and as she said this, Ann wrapped her right arm around my waist and her left along my back, pulling me close enough to her that our hips met. The hug lingered for a few moments, before she broke it and said, "I'll see you soon."

Chapter Two

My mind raced as I drove home. How had this woman wound up with my groceries and how had I wound up having a breakfast date with a stranger in my own home? The embrace she left me with had also left her fragrance on me, and it seemed to fill the interior of my SUV. She had seemed nice and interesting, but was this really safe? Was she just lonely? Was she a thief? Had she forgotten to take her medicine? Was she a bisexual or lesbian looking for a sexual liaison?

"Just be calm Debbie", my mind said. I decided that I would have my cell ready to dial 911 in case anything strange happened. However reason also told me that crime and particularly woman on woman violence between strangers in this region was very rare. Things had moved so fast. This whole experience was so far outside my routine and it had me very uneasy. My instincts told me this was not right, but having agreed to it, I made up my mind to entertain this new friend calmly. Her sports car stayed glued in my rear view mirror all the way home and she followed me up our semi-circular driveway.

Ann bounced out of her car cheerfully and picked up one of the bags of groceries from the back of her car. Her smile was infectious and disarming and I began to feel more relaxed about the situation. She handed the bag to me and picked up another along with her purse, and followed me to the front door of my home.

I took pride in my home, a spacious two-story residence in a nice neighborhood. We stepped into the foyer, and while the house was not "guest-clean", it was still orderly. The warmth inside contrasted with the chill of the early winter morning we had come in from. Ann commented on how nice the house was and part of me wanted to give her a tour but I decided I better just keep this stranger to the kitchen, at least to begin with. I took off my jacket and invited Ann to take off her sweater and make herself comfortable. She thanked me, and smiled as she unbuttoned her cardigan. I saw that she wore a spaghetti strap lace camisole underneath. While certainly not model-thin, she also obviously took care of herself. Her breasts while not heavy were well rounded. The camisole fell short of her smoothly formed hips, revealing a pierced belly button adorned with a jeweled ring.

It was probably obvious that I had been admiring her very feminine form, for I looked up to find her watching me. Her eyes had that same twinkle and playfulness that I'd noticed right from the start. There was just a moment of awkwardness, but she quickly began to make herself at home in the kitchen. Ann washed the fruit, while I unpacked perishables. Our conversation took on a pleasantly light tone. She asked me about my family and life in the community. I rambled on, telling her more than I would typically tell a stranger, but she was a good listener and being able to just keep talking on such familiar topics helped to soothe my uneasiness. I brought out a bowl for Ann to mix the fruit in and then offered to help in the preparation, but she insisted that I relax at the table while she prepared the food.

I sat and watched her ease, impressed at how gregarious and confident she was to be able to make herself at home in a stranger's kitchen. During the conversation I learned that Ann was single. She was a free-lance artist and writer who resided in Manhattan, but who also traveled frequently. Her art was part of an exhibit that was to open the next day at our local college and she was in town for the opening. Although she and I were not apparently far apart in age, her bohemian lifestyle contrasted sharply with a settled life that was centered around my family and a 14 year marriage to the first boy I dated seriously.

As she finished mixing the fruit, she stopped, and standing at the tile kitchen counter, she looked at me and asked,

"Do you know what I love about fruit?" without waiting for my reply, she continued, "It is completely natural. Almost all other foods are processed in some way, adulterated from their natural state. Fruit not only comes to us as it is, plain and simple, but also with the most exquisite colors, scents and shapes the planet has to offer."

She held up a pear and asked, "How can anyone say this is not beauty and art?"

I had to admit, I had not quite looked at a pear that way, but looking at the curves in its form, its unique green, blended with swatches of red, I did see how it could be compared with any art created by a master.

"I believe eating fresh fruit helps remind us of purity and truth, wouldn't you agree?"

Again, without really waiting for my reply, she continued, "I think so many among us live without purity and truth. People live with processed everything, including lies and self-deceptions. They do this everyday until finally they come to accept it as normality. Don't you find yourself doing that Deborah?"

This time she waited for my response, her eyes gazed into mine, no longer with the twinkle I'd started to be accustomed to, but with a seriousness that probed into me. I had to think for a bit on her statement.

"Uh, yes, I suppose I do live with lies and untruths", I stammered, "but I do think that is natural. We can't be honest all the time. It could lead to hurtfulness. Sometimes we need to tell white lies at the expense of honesty."

"I'm not talking about that level of politeness, Deborah. I am talking about the day-to-day lies we live with. The unspoken lies that hide what we truly think. For example, didn't you think I was strange to be insisting on coming home with you?"

"Well, yes I did" I had to reply.

"Yet you didn't say anything. Perhaps you were afraid of hurting my feelings, but you also probably were uncomfortable with everything it might suggest. What did you think of me, honestly?"

I had to squirm a bit. Ann was correct, I was uncomfortable with complete honesty, and I couldn't quite be truthful in my reply. "Oh, I wasn't sure if you were not a thief." I replied.

"Is that all you thought Deborah? What do you think of me now?

"I think you are an interesting person, but I really don't know you."

"What did you think when I fed you the fruit in the store?" she asked, continuing her steady gaze.

I really felt uncomfortable with that one, but knew I had to respond at least somewhat truthfully. "I wasn't sure what to make of it" I hesitated.

Ann walked toward me with the bowl of mixed fruit. "Did you enjoy the berry?" she asked.

"Yes", I replied.

"I thought so. How could you not? I enjoyed watching you enjoy it."

Ann carefully selected a nectarine slice and took a bite. She paused for a moment to chew.

"Mmmm, that is perfect." Ann purred as she plucked out another nectarine slice from the bowl. She had momentarily closed her eyes as she enjoyed the taste of the fruit, but now her gaze turned back on me, her presence almost too close and penetrating.

"What did you think of me feeding you the berry?" Ann asked again as she held the nectarine slice.

"I have to say, I thought it odd and a bit uncomfortable." I replied, feeling that I was at last being honest.

"I could tell you did" replied Ann, "but you ate the fruit anyway. I knew then that my instincts about you were correct." She paused, "Don't you think it was silly that you felt uncomfortable?" Ann continued. "It was a gesture from one person to another, to share a little piece of purity in a simple and pure manner. A way to connect with a person who looked warm, beautiful and that I wanted to know better."

"Yes, I suppose that is so" I replied, seated at the table, my eyes looking up, uncomfortably trying to return Ann's ever-steady gaze.

Ann's fingers lightly turned the nectarine slice, her smile now starting to return. She now stepped right in front of me, extended the slice to my lips and said, "Taste this."

Was this seduction? Was this a psychological test? I wasn't sure what to do, but I felt for once in my life, I was going to do the unscripted. I parted my lips and moved to take the bite.

As my head moved forward, Ann also slipped the fruit forward, leaving it set in the tip of her right index finger as the fruit entered my mouth. Again, she gave a soft brush on the underside of my lip as her finger left my mouth.

Ann set the bowl on the table and plucked out a grape, holding it between thumb and finger, seeming to contemplate. I chewed the delicious pulp and watched Ann, my mind racing between thoughts. Ann finally spoke.

"You are a beautiful woman Deborah."

My mind and heart jumped. So this was a seduction. Now what was I to do? I swallowed the nectarine.

"Thank you" was all I could reply.

"You're welcome" Ann replied in a bit firmer voice. "I just speak what is on my mind and I find you to be an attractive woman. Do you find me to be attractive as well? Please speak truthfully to me?"

Okay, I did find her attractive, but clearly this was going to be more than the typical, casual complement I might give to one of my female friends. I had to acknowledge Ann's thoughts on truth and I realized this was now indeed a test of truth and what was within my soul.

"Yes, you are a very beautiful woman" I replied.

Ann leaned in closer. "I didn't ask you if I was beautiful, did I? I asked if you find me attractive."

Ann held the grape by my lips. "Deborah, I want you to be truthful with me."

I nodded and looked back into her gaze.

"You've never had a romantic physical relationship with a woman, but you've thought about it. Is that correct?"

"Yes that is correct" came from my mouth, but my mind was beginning to go somewhere else. My knees felt weak as all those conflicts I'd felt toward same-sex relationships flew about me. Ann was gorgeous, confident and sexual and I realized that there was going to be little resistance should she pursue this further.

Ann leaned forward again until her lips were inches from mine. "Taste it" she said in a firm, loud whisper, placing the grape between my lips. The grape slipped in and as I began to chew, Ann's lips followed and moved onto my lips. The taste of her breath mixed with the fresh grape, filling my mouth and senses. Her tongue began to slowly swirl on mine. The moment was electric. I felt the last shreds of hesitancy begin to melt. The warmth and softness of the kiss was irresistible and I knew that I was about to enter a place that I'd always feared, yet desired. The grape slid down my throat as Ann inhaled my breath.

Chapter Three

Cecil had always been a good provider, but the romance and pure sex had long since disappeared from our marriage. Ann's kiss, so talented and experienced, the freshness of her taste and scent, awakened feelings I had long forgotten. Passion and arousal surfaced within me, emotions I couldn't submerge, but that conflicted with my mind and values. This was an act of infidelity. I'd taken part in the gossip and seen the wives and husbands shamed from exposed extra-marital affairs and I'd always vowed I would never be one of them. However, the deeper the kiss went, the more I knew I was already somewhere I swore I wouldn't go. That Ann was a woman, a lesbian, added to the conflict within. Yes, I'd thought about sex with a woman, but only as an abstract that would never materialize. Perhaps I understood that once I did go to either of these places, that there would be no turning back. Ann pulled her lips off of mine and gave her increasingly familiar smile.

"Oh my poor neglected pet" she clucked. "You are needy aren't you?"

I felt a sense of shame. Not only had I taken part, at least partially, in an act of infidelity and lesbianism, but the response of my tongue and body had also revealed how much I enjoyed Ann and her advance.

Ann took my hand and pulled me up from my chair. She held me in a warm embrace, her hands placed on the curve of my hips just above my bottom. She looked into my eyes with her intense, but playful gaze.

"Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable" she said.

"Oh God" I thought, "If I stop it here I could still feel like I had reasonably avoided infidelity", but as she took my hand and led me to the foyer, I knew that Ann had touched passions deep within and that stopping this now was going to be very difficult.

Ann stopped by our front door and turned the lock.

"I gather we won't be expecting any visitors this morning?" she said somewhat sternly.

"No, I don't think so, but…" I began to stammer.

"Deborah, you don't need to talk" Ann commanded, "this morning is about truth and being who we are. I know you enjoyed that kiss and that you will enjoy this."

Her left hand still on my hip, her eyes fixed on me, she took her right hand and brushed back my hair.

"You are a beautiful creature my little pet" Ann said softly, and pulling my waist closer to her, she leaned her lips back onto mine.

The kiss was slow, soft, but also strong and powerful. I tried to restrain my response, not wanting to seem too willing, not even feeling willing in many ways, but I also realized the undeniable nature of the beauty and raw sexuality of Ann's kiss and touch. I felt locked in a haze, caught in a tangle of confusion, denial and passion. I felt Ann's right hand pluck open the buttons of my blouse as she slow danced me down into our main living room. I felt my blouse fall open and peel off my shoulders just before Ann leaned me back onto our corner piece sofa. Her fingers deftly removed my brassiere as her lips moved along my neck and shoulders. I couldn't remember the last time I made love in the daytime, and the morning air felt fresh and new on my exposed breasts.

Ann's touch was one of joy and skill. Her tongue swirled on my nipples, her teeth grazed them. Something between a purr and a growl came from her as she discarded my bra. I knew then that Ann would have me. That she would have me as only two men had ever had, but much more suddenly. Working her way down the couch, she slipped open the clasp of my chinos and slid them over my hips. The scent of my passion seemed to fill the morning-lit room.

From Ann's throat came a small sound of pleasure. From under my lowered lids I could see her broad smile as she examined me laid out before her, a woman who's sexuality was about to be plucked like ripe fruit. As her fingers curled under the waist of my panties, I reflexively pressed myself to the couch in a nervous attempt to slow my descent. This brought a light but commanding smack on my hip, as if she was smartening up a balky child. Obediently, I lifted my bottom to ease the final act of disrobing, feeling the panties disappear over the rise of my hips, pass along my thighs and finally slip over my ankles. My thighs parted limply and I watched, mesmerized, as Ann leaned in to taste her prize.

I was hit by a thunderbolt when Ann's mouth pressed onto my clitoris and her fingers began to run into my vagina. I am not a screamer, but my passion was uncontainable and I sang out a series of expletives mixed with Ann's name as she deftly worked her magic. My eyes shut, opened slightly and shut again, over and over. Now and then, Ann would lift her mouth and gaze into my fluttering eyes, as she stroked her fingers and curled her knuckles, creating a squishing sound from my wetness. My thighs spread wider, my bottom began to buck and I felt the flood of a hot white orgasm crash upon me. Everything around me was a blur, yet at the same time utterly and completely real.

Chapter Four

The orgasm seemed to last forever, although it could only have been moments. Ann pulled her fingers out and leaned back over me. A hand moved back to my hair and her now glistening mouth loomed over my face. She had a broad smile and dancing eyes, like a mother looking at her tired daughter.

"I didn't think that would take very long" she chuckled; "I think my poor little pet has been a bit neglected" and she leaned in and gave a soft kiss. Her kiss was lips only, but mine parted slightly and the taste of my sex now filled my mouth as we shared our breath. She stroked my hair with her left hand, while the damp sticky fingers of her right hand curled along the slope of my hips.

"Such a lovely creature Deborah" she breathed as the haze of my orgasm subsided and the afterglow arose. We lay together for a few minutes. Ann undoubtedly realized my fragility and the intensity of my experience and gently cuddled and stroked me. However, the longer we lay, the more remorse I began to feel. Here was a stranger, someone I'd only known for perhaps an hour, who had bedded me with no resistance, who had me calling her name in ecstasy with my thighs spread wide. The experience had fractured every tenet of morality I'd held and the implications were beginning to set in.

Ann perhaps sensed the growing change in mood and lifted herself off the couch, taking my hand with her and pulling us to our feet. She stood a few inches taller than me and looking down, she embraced me in a hug.

"Let's leave this room" she said in a hushed voice, followed by "I'd like to see your bedroom. Is it up the stairs?"

"Yes, but Ann..." I began to reply, but again, she quickly cut me off.

"It's okay pet. Let's just go up there before a gardener or nosy neighbor looks in and sees us."

She was right. Our living room featured oversized windows that overlooked our backyard and the lake our community surrounded. While no one would probably look in, there was the slight chance that they could have, and my embarrassment grew more acute as I stood there nude in the broad daylight.

Ann followed me up the stairs, and I felt shame knowing her eyes could plainly see every blemish of my backside. I never even paraded around nude in front of my husband, but Ann was experiencing me in ways the man I've lived with for fourteen years never has.

Pictures of my family hung along the hallway. As we moved toward the bedroom, my eyes avoided them...

"These are your daughters?" Ann asked, "They are beautiful." She didn't comment on Cecil, but I could almost feel her chuckle as I glanced back and saw her eyes scan him.

We walked into the large master bedroom, the king size bed covered in over-stuffed pillows and comforter dominated the room. I moved to the windows and drew the blinds so that we could not be seen from the outside. Slatted rays of light still filtered into the room. The aroma of the room was fresh and familiar, strikingly different from the scent of sex that we had left downstairs.

As I turned away from the now drawn window, I saw that Ann had peeled off her camisole and bared her beautiful breasts. She had begun to slip off her skirt, revealing a black thong. She had no tan lines. She had also brought her purse, and before discarding it, she pulled a small vibrator out and set it on the night stand.

I'd told myself that we were moving away from downstairs for a bit of cool off and cleanup time, but now, standing nude in my own bedroom, I felt foolish and naïve. It was apparent that Ann was expecting more.

"Ann" I spoke, "This isn't really like me and I'm not sure we should pursue this any further."

Ignoring my words, she threw off a few of the pillows and pulled back the comforter from the bed. She turned and fixed me with her eyes; she said firmly, "Deborah, this is not all about you. Come here. We are not nearly finished."

My stomach began to turn as I realized Ann not only expected, but required, that she have an orgasm as well. I moved toward her reluctantly, but I understood the fairness of what she demanded. Perhaps, I thought, if I just did this quickly I could begin to distance myself from this whole strange episode. Ann slipped off her thong and threw it into the pile of her other clothes. She stood at the side of Cecil's and my bed waiting. Finally, I walked to her, accepting my responsibility.

"Good girl" Ann praised me when I reached her, taking hold of my hips and gazing into my eyes.

We swayed together for a few moments, our noses touched and our breasts lightly brushed against each other. Ann's sensuality was overwhelming again. The passion I'd felt from our first kiss began to creep back over me.

Ann drew back slightly and placed a hand on my shoulder, gently but firmly pushing me down. I knelt onto my knees. She lowered herself and settled her bottom just on the edge of my bed. Her knees curled and parted, exposing the tanned flesh of her inner thighs. No more words were needed. She reached out one more time, cupped the back of my head with the palm of her hand, and drew me to her smooth, shaved sex. Its natural fragrance filled my senses as my nose and mouth neared her and what had begun as surrender, became desire. I spread my fingers along the high of her thighs and almost of its own will; my tongue began haltingly to lap, painting lines along her labia. Ann removed her hand and leaned back on her elbows. Her voice filled the room with sounds of pleasure.

It was not long before I felt the desire to give her the same sensuality and pleasure that she had given me. I began to understand where the whole morning was leading me. The intimate parts of the female body suddenly seemed like the fruit Ann and I had shared, so exquisitely beautiful and natural. Something no one could improve on; created as a gift to enjoy. My increased desire seemed to make my tongue more artful. I moved it in brush strokes, up from her labia and onto the folds that enveloped her clitoris. I pushed my tongue deeper and I found her clitoris hard and eager for my touch. My tongue moved instinctively, swirling in circles up and down and around her clitoris, Ann's voice grew louder and urged me on.

"Put two fingers in me" she called out.

I reached inside her, beginning to finger fuck.

"Slower" Ann screamed "Press there! Oh shit! Yes! Another finger!"

My nose and mouth were covered with Ann's sex. My face and fingers tried to match the rhythm of her hips. Pulling back to catch a breath, Ann's hand caught me by the back of the head and pulled me back onto her.

"Eat me" Ann hissed.

The softness of her inner thighs squeezed against my head and every one of my senses were replete with Ann's sex.

"Look at me" she commanded.

I looked up, my tongue still lapping and fingers knuckle deep, and met her steady gaze. She had a wicked look; her eyes twinkling, but more sinister than before and a smile that almost suggested mockery and triumph more than shared joy. Her breasts heaved as she leaned back, and her hips moved in rhythm with my caresses as though riding a horse. She was rapt in her enjoyment.

"Mmmm, yes my pet. You are quite good at this."

I could only give an imperceptible nod as I continued to focus my tongue on her labia and clitoris.

Ann leaned back and picked up the vibrator. A low electric hum began to accompany the sounds of my mouth. She applied the vibrator to her nipples, and tilted her head back, with a broad satisfied smile.

Ann moved the vibrator along her breasts and chest, periodically giving me directions on where and how to use my mouth and fingers. The taste of her womanhood was at first shocking to me, but the longer I spent performing, the more natural and enjoyable the taste became. Ann was requiring me to give her pleasure, but I realized that seeing her enjoyment also gave me pleasure and the taste, scent, sounds and sights created an intense arousal.

Ann leaned forward and handed me the vibrator.

"Put it in me" she directed.

I slipped the vibrator inside her, slowly fucking her with it while my tongue continued to twirl along her exposed clitoris.

Ann's moans became louder and I could feel her body tensing. Her ascending orgasm took my arousal with her. My eyes began to flutter, and the image of our shared nakedness, my head between her thighs, filled my mind. She reached out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, thrust her clitoris onto my lips and sang out. The sounds of her orgasm echoed through the room. We rocked in unison, locked together in the throes of her climax.

Eventually I peered up to see Ann catching her breath, her thighs parted widely and glistening from perspiration and sex. She reached down and pulled me up onto the bed, she rolled me onto my back and thrust her right thigh between my thighs. She leaned in, her eyes close to mine and took the vibrator from my hand.

"You nasty, nasty girl. You loved that didn't you?" Ann chided.

She took the vibrator, still slick from her sex, out of my hand and flicked it back on. Ann leaned in and slipped her tongue in my mouth, and ran it hard to the back of my throat at the same time she slipped the vibe inside me.

I was already over stimulated and the sensation of the vibrator inside me shook me to my core. Ann stroked me with the vibe while her tongue hungrily fucked my mouth. My eyes closed tight as I felt my mind and body completely surrender to the sensations. Ann pulled her mouth off mine and my eye lids lifted to see her shake her hair back and then gaze back at me with a wickedly satisfied smile.

"Cum" she silently mouthed.

My breath expelled, my head tilted back and the part of my soul just below my front hips exploded, sending an eruption throughout my body. Aftershocks rolled through me as my consciousness faded to bliss.

Chapter Five

"I'm going to go now."

Ann's voice, close to my ear, broke my sleep.

"I am guessing you are going to need to get busy soon as well"

My eyes snapped open and saw Ann, cleaned and dressed, crouched by the side of the bed.

What time was it? I looked at the bedside clock and saw it was 1:50 in the afternoon. In ten minutes I was supposed to be at the school picking up one of my daughters. That left me about two minutes to dress.

"I have business to attend to, but I expect to see you again. I took the liberty of jotting down your home and cell numbers, but I understand you might desire some discretion for the time being, so you may want to call me instead of waiting for my call."

Ann handed me her business card.

"I wrote my cell and hotel room numbers on the back. If you can't call this evening, then call me tomorrow after you drop off the girls. You are going to need to start planning a schedule and some excuses as I will want to see you tomorrow night."

Ann leaned in.

"You were delicious, my pet. So long for now" she said, before leaning in to give me a warm, soft good-bye kiss.

Ann knelt back up, picked up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, strode toward the bedroom door. She gave her head one final turn and her gaze met mine. She gave me a wink, accompanied with a broad smile as she turned into the hallway.

I scrambled up and went to the master bathroom. I was a mess, but only had time to make one or two swipes with a cold, damp washcloth on my mouth and give a couple of brushes to my hair. I had no time to pick out a new wardrobe and remembered my clothes were downstairs. As I began to rush out of the bed room I quickly looked back and saw the bed in complete disarray. I made a mental note that I had to make up the room as soon as I returned.

I ran down the stairs and began to reclaim my clothing. However, my panties were no where in sight. Where were they? Buried under a pillow or the furniture? I began to toss pillows and lift magazines, but quickly realized I had no time for a full search. After giving a quick sigh, I threw on my pants without the underwear and completed dressing.

Just as I began to gather my purse, I heard Ann's Fiat start and its horn toot. I rushed to a front window and leaned my hand onto the glass. She was smiling up at my window and waving a scarf or handkerchief back and forth slowly. A gesture of farewell. No. I saw then that it was not a scarf. She was actually waving my panties at me as she pulled out of the drive. Her brake lights flashed just before the car took off up the street.

"So long" I mouthed.

(To be continued)

Ann and I

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