tagLesbian SexContentment

Contentment

bymatriarch©

The continuing tale of two women in love.

"It's a red satin cincher with black stockings and hells. Red cami and tap pants. A nice English cincher with six garters as opposed to the American style with just four." Your voice was low, breathy, husky, enticing. You knew full well the effect your words were having on me.

"I think the pants are a bit too much. Don't you feel overdressed?"

"Loose my tap pants? Do you think I would look better? The red of the cincher might clash with the red of my bush. Should I take them off? Just for you?". You were playing along now, teasing me, knowing that I was excited, could hear the excitement, the want in my voice.

Growling low in my throat, "Yes, take them off. Just for me. I do not worry about the clash, I will not see it, my eyes will be elsewhere. While you wait for me to come home, I want you to go sit in a comfortable chair, one with arms. I want you to sit with your legs over the arms of the chair, and just think of the things that you would like me to do for you, and with you. BUT, while you think and while you sit that way, you are not to play with yourself, not one single touch. Promise? I want all that energy saved up for an explosion later."

"Goodness! Well, I have stood and slid off my tap pants, they are on the floor at my feet. My pussy is naked now, totally open, just for you. My legs are up over the armrests of a wingback chair. As much as I don't know if I can help myself, I promise to keep my hands busy with something else. Hurry home!"

This conversation is running over and over in my head, on a continuous loop, as I drive home from work. The pictures in my head making my heart pound, my mouth dry, and my hands tremble in anticipation. I am working very hard to concentrate on the road and the traffic, when all I want to do is let my head move into the pictures, the image of you, open, wet and waiting for me.

It has been a long hard day at work, non-stop telephone calls, and each one creating its own crisis. I had been feeling drained mentally, so when I took a break I called you at home, hoping the sound of your voice would energise me for the remainder of the day. As always, your voice produced that soft, damp warmth that spread throughout my body, making me melt into my chair, as I lay back and closed my eyes. You were telling me about some new underwear you had bought, and one particular outfit caught my attention, making my eyes shoot open, and my pulse rate shoot up at the same time. "Sara, describe that to me again, please." I asked.

There was a pause, and your voice changed, lower and huskier in tone, "It's a red satin cincher..." Almost immediately, the picture of you in it flew into my head, and I was no longer tired, I was aroused, very aroused. That was when I quickly had my idea, and gave you my instructions as to how I would like to find you on my arrival home. My heart was quickening at the thought of making love with you, my pussy was throbbing, and I could feel myself becoming wet.

And now, I was on my way home to the vision, to the woman I adored, who managed to reduce me to a trembling heap of desire and lust, every time I saw her, heard her, touched her. I could hardly wait to see what awaited me.

Having parked the car, and make my way into the house, forcing myself not to just run and throw myself on you. I leave my briefcase in the hall, take deep breaths to calm myself, and walk slowly up the stairs to our bedroom and open the door.

As the door opens you look up from the chair and smile shyly at me. I am delighted to see that you have done as I asked, only much more, you have placed the chair facing the door, so the first thing I see as I enter is you, your pussy glistening, pink and beckoning to me, stretched wide open over the arms of the chair. God, its all I can do not to just run over, kneel and devour you on the spot. Patience Kate, patience.

You have been such an obedient girl, I like that, very much, but now I have to see if you really have been good.

Walking slowly over to you, I stop in front of you and allow my eyes to take in the sight in front of me. It almost takes my breath away. The glorious hair, the intense sparkling inviting eyes, luscious full lips just waiting to be kissed. Who would resist, I most definitely cannot. Without touching you, I bend and press my lips to yours, licking over them, opening my mouth to suck your lips in, allowing my top lip to drift down and take your bottom lip between my teeth, gently biting and pulling. As I release the lip, I slide my tongue into your mouth to play gently over yours, moving side to side, briefly touching your cheeks and teeth, smiling into your mouth as I hear your low moan of pleasure. Unable to stop it, one of my hands reaches out and the fingertips gently stroke over the skin above the top of your camisole, making you shiver. Reluctantly I remove my mouth and hand and straighten up, smiling at the pout of disappointment on your face. As I stand, your scent rises to my nostrils, so I know you are aroused, but have you been good?

Reaching to you, I take one of your elegant hands in mine, and lift the fingers to my nose, inhaling gently. All I can smell is you and your perfume. Good, but I must make sure. Raising my eyes to look into yours, I turn the hand and softly trail my lips and tongue over the sensitive inner wrist, making you whimper, and then up over your palm, kissing softly. Slowly and deliberately, I take each finger in turn in to my mouth, sucking and licking down to the knuckle, and when I am satisfied there is no pussy residue, I lower it and do the same with the other hand. By the time I am finished, your eyes are closed and your breathing has quickened perceptibly, and as I look down at where I want to be, I see distinct signs of moisture on your beautifully splayed lips.

I back a few steps away and as I begin to unbutton my shirt slowly, I softly call your name. Your eyes open, focussing on me, watching my every move. Having opened the shirt I allow it to slide off my shoulders, stopping briefly when it is held in the crook of my arms, framing my heavy breasts and their, unusually for me, lace-edged bra. I see your eyes widen in surprise, and a sly smile creep over your face. Then that over-active tongue sneaks out of your mouth and very slowly, oh so slowly lick your lips, smacking them together noisily before the tongue darts back into your sweet mouth.

I let the shirt fall to the floor, then walk over to you, kneel in front of you and turn my back, whispering to you as I do, "Undo it for me love, take if off."

I steel myself for the inevitable shiver as your fingers touch me, but still can't avoid it rippling through my body. You are an expert at undoing my bra, and when necessary can almost rip it off me in a flash, so I know you are deliberately prolonging this moment when I feel you fumble with the clasp and your fingertips brush against my skin, several times. Smiling to myself I let this pass, but as your fingers reach to push the straps off my shoulders, and I feel them begin to move over and down my front, I quickly cover them with mine, turn to you kissing them, and whisper against them, "Not yet, not yet."

Moving away from you with difficulty, I resume my position in front of you, and unbuttoning my pants allow them to fall from my legs, step out of them and kick them away, along with my shirt. I watch you as your eyes rake over my body longingly, bringing a flush of heat to my skin, and breath in deeply as you raise them to mine, and I see the desire burning brightly, matching my own growing need.

Now I move back close to you, throw cushions on the floor in front of the chair and kneel on them in front of you, but do not bend to your centre which is now visibly wet, not unlike my own. The aroma, oh god, the aroma has my head swimming and my mouth watering. My eyes lock on yours, as each of my hands reach out sideways to gently touch a stocking covered foot, my fingertips sliding gently up and down the sole from heel to toes. You inhale quickly, your eyes closing against the sight of me in front of you, and trying to shut out the feel of my fingers on your feet. Slowly my fingers work their way over the foot, pressing slightly into the crevice between each toe, rubbing the sheer, silky stockings against your skin.

Lightly I trail my fingers up the inside of each calf, and back down again on the other side. I can see you slightly biting your bottom lip, but with your eyes still closed. This is not right, I need you to watch. I stop all movement and leave my fingers resting on the inside of your ankles, waiting. After a few seconds you slowly open your eyes and look at me questioningly. I tilt my head slightly to one side, and raise my eyebrows at you. Instinctively, you know what I want and nod imperceptibly. From then, your eyes are focussed on either mine, or my hands, watching and feeling every movement. I am pleased as I notice your breathing change from regular to shallow, to occasional gasps. Good.

By now, my fingers have reached your knees, and I lightly press against the back of them, urging you to lift them slightly. You lift your feet and place them against the arms of the chair, a movement that stretches your pussy even wider, and leaves me almost breathless with desire. I have to stop briefly, to control my breathing, then continue to make my around your skin, lightly tickling the back of your knees and then moving slowly down the back of your thighs to where they rest on the arm of the chair.

The journey continues trailing lightly around the inside of your thighs, a movement that has you gasping, mouth open, and your head pushed back as far as it can go against the chair back. As I look down, I can almost see your pussy flexing at me, urging me in. I will resist for a little longer, thought not much more; my control is ebbing away.

A few more light trailing movements on the inside of your thighs, especially around the top of your stockings, has your legs trembling, and as I move my fingers to the very top, where your thigh becomes your pussy, I take pity on your muscles, and sliding my hands under your thighs, lift your legs and place them over my shoulders. You open your eyes again (I let that one go, even I cold not have kept my eyes open then), and watch me, as I turn my head from side to side, placing slow, gentle lingering kisses on the inside of your thighs, moving closer and closer to where you want me to be, and where I want to be. I smile happily as I feel your heels begin to press into my back, urging me closer and closer, but I will not be rushed.

By now the throbbing in my own pussy is almost matching what I imagine to be happening in yours. My panties are soaked through, and my aroma is mixing deliciously with yours. Slowly I lower my head and stopping the tiniest distance from your lips, I hear the moan of frustration that seeps out of you. A gentle exhale of breath over your lips and I feel the shudder as it rushes through your body and down your legs. Very lightly I press my nose to your lips, now gaping wide open, deep red in their arousal, and inhale. Dear Lord, I almost fall over when that aroma hits my nerve endings. I try to make sure my nose is not touching your clit, not yet, and reach out my tongue allowing it to gently lick down one lip. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see your hands clenching into fists, dying to grab my head and push my face into you, needing that contact, but knowing I am not ready for that yet.

Your moans and whimpers, and pleading, "Kate, Kate, please..." are almost continuous now, I know you want me, want me inside you. I reach for one of your hands and lightly place it on my shoulder letting you know that this would be OK. You move the other one, and as I slide my tongue up and down each lip, barely touching, I know how you feel by the movements of your fingers digging into my flesh.

With no warning, I thrust my tongue in to you as deeply as it will go, at the same time pushing my nose up against your hard clit, which has been begging at me all the time. I move my hands from your thighs where they had been resting, and reaching round, gently caress the skin of your tummy, above that wonderful red bush. Circling my hands softly round and round your abdomen, sliding up under the edge of the cincher, then under the suspender straps, to caress your hips, then underneath you, cupping your cheeks, holding you tightly, pulling you against me, wanting to take you into my mouth, all of you, devour you.

A strangled cry is forced from you at these touches, increasing in strength as my tongue plunges deeper and deeper into your silky depths, my moaning joining you. The vibration from me only increases the sensations, and I feel your hips begin to push against me. Knowing the moment is approaching, your hands leave my shoulders and move to the back of my head, urging me closer and deeper into you.

Moving one hand from under you, I bring it round and as I withdraw my tongue from you, replace it with two fingers, which I plunge deeply into you, moving back and forth against your tissues, then withdraw them, and add another, continuing to move back and forth into you. Then withdraw the three, and add the fourth finger, which I slide back into you, feeling the tissues move against them. Pushing, but never forcing.

I feel your walls shaping themselves around my fingers, feel the wetness, the softness, and softly, huskily whisper, "Sara...?" You struggle to open your eyes, moving your head to look at me. Knowing what I want, you simply nod, being unable to speak. You watch breathlessly as I remove my hand, curl my thumb into my palm, and then, with our eyes locked on each other, I gently push my hand against your opening, until I feel the tissues move apart, and I slide my hand into you. There is no resistance, you are too wet for it, too open, and you want it in you. I watch as your eyes roll upwards, eyelids flutter, then close, your head lolls back. A long drawn out moan, filled with my name, "Kate" is the only sound you can make in the pleasure of feeling me inside you.

My own body is desperately crying out for attention, but my time will come later. For now, this is about you, giving you pleasure, and I push my own needs away, gently moving my hand inside you, feeling the throbbing of our flesh, the way the walls cling to me, shape themselves around me. Your hands are pulling at my head, urging me against you, and I will no longer refuse. Moving forward I gently take your clit in my mouth, suck it between my lips, loving the sound of the wail that escapes from your mouth, as your back arches, your head goes back and you begin to whimper and moan in the need for release. "Please Kate, please." you plead.

Together my hand and mouth orchestrate your finale, twisting slowly inside you, fingers reaching out to gently stroke the walls, your hips moving urgently against my face to the tune of your pleading and whimpering. Then, the final surge, as I feel your muscles tighten convulsively against my hand, the rush of extra wetness which allows me to move it more, pushing deeper inside you against your cervix; some seeping out around my wrist, allowing me to taste it as I caress your clit with my tongue, sucking it deeply into my mouth.

Your hips push up once against me, your hands pull my head hard against you, your heels dig hard into my back and your thighs squeeze my head, as you come for me in a shuddering, shivering, overwhelming release, accompanied by a long moan.

I can stand it no longer, and quickly move my other hand to my own burning centre, and with a few quick strokes of my rigid clit, feel myself coming, sending a long moan into you. My moan draws out a few more shudders and aftershocks from you, and when finally I feel your hands gently urge my head away from you, I know it is done.

Lifting my head, I lie my cheek against your mound, feeling your body moving to your still-rapid breathing, making me smile with satisfaction, and for now I leave my hand inside you, where it belongs. I feel your body relax with exhaustion, your hands gently stroking my hair, and your legs falling away from my head, still trembling. I gently kiss the inside of your thigh, which makes you shiver, and I hear your voice, between still gasping breaths, "God, Kate, that was ...." and you say no more, no more is needed as your head falls back against the chair.

We are content.

For now.

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