Rachel & Janie's Massage

Emily can wait no more. Passion must have its fill!

First, she kisses Janie in wet-tongued French delight, then Rachel, slower deeper longer, at home now in the wonder of another's lips, another's mouth, another's tongue. Long kisses: The face of the un-kissed siren waits impatiently for Emily's lips to be free. They do not kiss each other, they save themselves for Emily. Unconsciously, they let their passion build--they have never been this unselfish! They are handmaidens serving Emily's unfurling desires, urging her to their bodies, their song of the flesh burning with lust and need. Emily is panting, tearing at her clothes, baring herself to them, frantic like a demanding child, "Now! Now! Now!"

Through the gap in her torn blouse she offers a breast to Rachel, pulling her toward it, mewing at her as she strokes her head, "Here it is to suck, dear heart. Here! Take me!" Her fingers stroke Rachel's cheek, like a blind woman she traces the roundness of her mouth, feels the slipperiness of full lips wet around her nipple. "All of me, sweet girl, all of me!"

Janie watches Emily abandoned to her lust and waits until she simmers before standing and slowly lifting her dress, teasing it a bit, watching the colors twirl as the fine flesh of her thighs captures Emily's upturned eyes. She parts her legs so that Emily can see clearly her white shiny panties. Below, lips and tongue swirl around Emily's nipple, as Janie stands closer until those parted legs are so close--there!--for the eyes of the hungry woman to devour, to travel up their graceful length, and rest on the silky mound just above her head, a mound whose vaginal pout is wet with excitement and unmistakable musky invitation. Janie watches their fevered movements from above, their red heads tilting and dipping--hungry birds hunting, the crimson tints distinguishing her Rachel from Emily: An Emily whose bright blue eyes now stare up at her intensely. Jeez, I'm so wet, Janie thinks, if I don't watch out I'll be dripping into her pretty mouth.

The door opens. Emily tenses. Rachel feels her shiver through the breast she sucks. They hear the click as the door shuts. They stare at each other, gripped in fear.

In walk Jasmine and Miss M, nonchalantly, like they live here. They stare at the wayward tableau appreciatively. Jasmine gracefully knells until her eyes are level with Emily's startled eyes.

"Ms. Hausenplat, I presume," she smiles, "I am so glad you are helping Janie and Rachel. They are both so shy, I was afraid they would never find someone to bond with." (Help them! Emily thinks, amazed.)

"Do you know Miss Millie Dawson, her dad is at the college?" (Yeah, I think I do, he's the goddam president! I am so...so fucked!)

Emily is even more amazed when Miss Mille Dawson floats to the floor next to her and hugs her, planting a warm kiss on her cheek. "Pleased to meet you!" and pats Emily's hand, a hand whose damp fingers are still wrapped in Rachel's hair, whose head now leans indulgently on Emily's bare breast.

Jasmine murmurs in Emily's ear, purring "How we love to get to know their role models..." She is behind Emily now pressing against her so their bodies fit together, arms snuggle around her as Jasmine's warmth envelops her. (Like girls on a sleigh, ready to ride..., muses Emily)

"We're missing someone, you will be so happy when she joins us."

Jasmine begins to chant, her fingers stroking Emily as Miss M takes away the last of the buttons and the blouse that hide Emily from her bliss. Jasmine, her voice sing song, whispers:

Let us go, you and I, on a journey to the sky

Long and sweet to where lovers meet,

Let us go as the butterflies fly,

To the sun where shadows die

And colors flutter, wild in the wind,

Beating, beating, to find their source.

Let us go, you and I...

Where we will be light as silken hair,

On the wings of love flying bare,

Flowing here, and floating there,

Together then, forever, in the air.

Let us go...

Emily presses herself deeper into the poet who has captured her in the folds of her body. She is not sure about what Jasmine sings. Only that it reaches into her, holds her in a heat steady, and adds to the thrill, to the hot, hot fire already started by the lovely ministrations of Rachel and Janie.

Emily skinnies out of her skirt. Rips at her panties, and offers them, torn and wet with the dew of her desire, to Rachel. She wants nothing separating her body! Rachel's eyes gleam, taking the skimpy silk inhaling her desire, happy to be the recipient of Emily's assertiveness. (God, how she deserves to be happy, she thinks, marveling like Jenna before her at this odd thought, a whisper from the soul of where?)

Miss M and Rachel help Emily free herself from all the rest of her pesky clothing. Now bare, still fitted to Jasmine, they begin to lick the length her beautiful pale body, starting with her feet whose toes now wiggle in delight. Rachel glances at Miss M and is reassured to see the goddess licking Emily in the same long slow tantalizing strokes. Timing themselves, they judge the value of their efforts by Emily's moans of pleasure. She is lost in a sleigh of warm hot wonder, maidens servicing the shy nooks and crannies of her awakened, now vibrant body. Above her Janie returns, the stunning provocateur, long legs wide, now straddling Emily's shoulders. Jasmine holds Emily's cheeks, steading her to the heat radiating from Janie's cunny. There she is, whispers Jasmine seemingly inside Emily's head, there she is in all her glory. Janie bends her knees until the white silky V of her panty, framed in the flesh of her taunt legs, is but inches from Emily's face. "Breathe in Miss Emily, breath deep" murmurs Jasmine, "Here comes heaven."

Slowly Janie bends her knees, her legs quiver with the effort of her slow descent, a descent that moves her closer and closer until the V is but an inch from Emily's lips. She hovers there watching the top of Emily's head, the slope of Emily's nose, the subtle vibration there of anticipation, until no more waiting--none!--as she feels the full press Emily's squirming face hot against her pussy. Her face wallows in the wonder of hot Janie's maidenhead, buries itself from side to side in the slipperiness that coats the panties, still separating her from the prize! She is desperate to touch the hot fluffy lips outlined by the thin panty, but her arms are trapped under the bodies of Miss M and Rachel, bodies she dare not disturb from their juicy labors. She squirms some more until the tip of her tongue slips under the fold of the panty. She presses in deeper, until her nose is under the panty's edge tenting it, but gaining slight access. "Ah, poor baby," whispers Jasmine, "Can't quite get to the pretty pussy! Here let me help..." A slender finger appears in the periphery of Emily's vision and pulls away the panty's edge. Now! Now! Emily's tongue finds the wet center, ah, she marvels, swirling in the hot mist of her sex-befuddled mind! She tastes the sweetness, her nose buried in Janie's wetness, sniffing the tangy scent of her, marveling at paradise found, of dreams come true. As she licks and probes, her own pussy is suddenly plundered, the coy tantalizing licks near but not on it are no more: Tongues are stroking her now everywhere, along her own v and into her own hotness, now together there, where she has always dreamed about the love of a friendly tongue, there where the waves of pleasure build until they are almost pain, there where her nipples are tweaked, there where now the wetness surrounds and lavishes her clit, there! there! until her now very wet face shudders, as Janie moans her longest most urgent moan, there! until in ecstasy the empty is no more...

Part 8, My Slut Muffin!

They revive their Emily--how possessive they've become of this once lonely woman whose crusty veneer scared the students away. In a flutter of feathery kisses, they take their time to bring her back to consciousness. When she is smiling, they begin to laugh and joke with her. Teasing--

"God, Emily, you nearly ate my girl friend up," laughs Rachel.

"And to think my dad use to call you an old maid at 25," giggles Miss M. "If only he could see me between your fine legs getting as much of that old maid as I can."

Janie, now breathing normally, gives Emily a big wet kiss on her puffy lips, "Thank you! Oh, thank you! You were so good!"

Then, another click! Now what, thinks Emily dreamily, still savoring Janie's kiss and the proudness she unexpectedly feels from her compliment.

"What a slut muffin my love is!" says Jenna.

Emily's eyes open wide. "Oh! Oh...Hi!"

Before her stands the beautiful Jenna, insolently eyeing them all, hands on her hips, head tilted like an exasperated prima donna. Today, no girl scout uniform, instead her small, sleek body is even more attractive draped in jazzy silk. Emily stares wondering what will become of them. After Jenna knells beside her and eagerly kisses her wet lips, she knows.

They smile and smile, lovers united.

"Hmm, you can tell a slut muffin by the secondhand taste of pussy. You taste good on my girl friend, Janie."

"Your girl friend!" Janie exclaims, "Rach and I thought we were...ah...helping."

"Helping yourself to my slut muffin!" Jenna laughs, "God, how good she looks all misty eyed, blushing like a guilty girl, naked, wrapped up in all my friends."

"All your friends?" asks Emily.

"Yes,." Jenna says, guilty now herself, looking expectantly into Emily's eyes. "Don't be mad...we were just looking after the girls."

"Rachel and Janie?"

"Ah huh."

"You seduced me on purpose?"

"Now you know why."

"Am I still your girlfriend?"

"Forever..."

"Oh, good," Emily grins, and giggles "your slut muffin wants you forever, too," and wraps her arms around Jenna, who kisses her again all over her drying face, resting now on her lips, slipping in a little tongue, playing.

"So," Rachel says,"that's why you knew how we felt. Emily told us we get so carried away because we are on a honeymoon--that we only want our bodies to be next to each other."

"I think Emily is a fast learner." Jasmine says, and looks around at them. "We should go soon before we while away the night. Won't you join us, Emily?"

"Is Jenna coming?"

"Surely, we are always together."

"Let's go dancing!" Miss M says, "We need to divert ourselves from the lust and love of our Emily."

"Our Emily?"

"Won't you be 'our Emily?'" smiles Jenna.

"As long as I'm your Emily." She replies, hugging Jenna fiercely to her breast as she smiles at them all.

Eventually, Jenna gets up and pulls Emily to her feet. Emily is shy standing there in her bareness before the women in their rumpled clothes. Jenna playfully reaches between her legs and covers Emily's pussy possessively. "Is that better? Do you like my fig leaf!" she adds, "You'll soon see them in all their glory."

"Find her some dancing clothes!" Jasmine says as Jenna leads Emily to the bedroom, the room where she fondly remembers putting her exhausted baby to sleep, only to have her reborn into the hot, vibrant woman who now holds her hand expectantly.

"Don't be long...I know that look!"

Soon they are driving in the big black limousine, the motor humming, as Jenna holds her lovers hand in the front seat. They arrive at the old warehouse. As they swing around the building, they see the cars parked in the back, away from the view of the street. The old industrial garage door creakily opens and the car slips into the anteroom. Emily looks around worriedly.

"Sometimes we like to go to Georgies--a bar we like--but tonight we have entertainment here." Jasmine says from the back seat.

"You don't need to worry about your reputation, dear Dean Emily, you are among friends; friends who love women and pretty girls and who have fun together. All of us." Miss M is leaning over the partition, her arm draped naturally around Emily's chest, toying a bit at the bare edge of her dress just shy of a tickle as though they were already the best of trusted friends.

"We've only been here once--for a massage," says Janie, "so we are as new as you."

"Wow! I hear the band--what a great sound!" Rachel says as the doors to anteroom open and the booming sound rushes out to greet them.

On the stage, they see the band: Four wild girls, hair all angles, kinetic movements synching to the big beat that booms like thunder through the ballroom. Emily is shocked at all of this--the wildly dressed people gyrating before the stage where the band plays, the grandeur of the tall beveled glass doors of the anteroom, the shinny wooden dance floor, the lights pulsing, all the tables festive with glasses and candles, and the high ceiling wreathed in mellow lights, lights whose pale colors beat to the thumping music seamlessly.

"Oh, great," Miss M says, "the 'Wild Wet Girls' are playing.--WWG all the way.--You're in for a treat, Dean Emily!"

Emily looks at Miss M, "Dean Emily?"

"Is that nick name OK, we'll only call you that here where you are among friends?"

Emily suppresses her first impulse, a trace consternation from her tight-assed past, and shakes Miss M's fingertips, "Dean Emily it is!"

Jenna gives her a big hug, "What fun we'll have, Emily!"

They move into the big room, groups of people in twos and threes fall away from the dancing and come to hug and kiss them. Some the kisses are pronounced and long, lingering in their hotness, especially for Jasmine, but all of them, even Emily are lavished with affection--not the cheek-to-cheek greetings of the Continent, but the warm welcomes of the legendary Isle of Lesbos.

Eventually, they find a group of couches, at angles, facing the stage. Here they sit a bit, settling in from the rush that greeted them. On the stage, the Wild Wet Ones live up to their erotic name. Dressed in the shortest skirts, their tops are mere strips of black clingy cloth outlined in orange. As the strips trail across their breasts, pressed tight, circles of flesh highlight the firm mounds from which phosphorescent nipples peek. The dancers sing and posture, hips grinding into each other, arms a rhythm 'n flail, as voices scream to the thumping beat. One of them, a girl in dark pink hair limbos to the crotch of her bandmate. Undulating her puss, the bandmate phallically pushes out her long microphone from between her legs. The pink-haired girl mouths the mike, suggestively, singing

All I want is your sweet love,

All I want is to taste it now,

All I want is my tongue in you!

All I want! All I Want! All I Want!

"Not the most original lyrics," Miss M shouts into Emily's ear, "but you get the point!" and smiles tapping her fingers playfully between Emily's legs.

(Wow! This'll take some getting use to, Emily thinks, taking in the big room and its enchanting occupants, all those gorgeous women, the skinny girls dressed like sluts--me a slut muffin, too!--the really hot greetings where complete strangers taste your lips with their tongues, and all this sexy touching.)

When the band takes a break, its members wander over to the couch and, as is the custom, gush over Jasmine and kiss and playfully fondle her guests. The pink-haired girl stares at Emily.

"I know you!" She says, her eyes wide. "You're Ms. Hausenplat, the dean of discipline!"

It takes a moment, but setting aside the hair and the wild make-up, is the girl Emily knows as Karen Holder. "Hi Karen." She says hesitantly.

Karen knells between Miss M and Emily. "That's the first time you ever called me Karen. I had such a crush on you! You always called me 'Miss Holder.' You were so formal and strict, you lived up to your nickname. 'the mean dean.' Your hair was mousy brown and no make-up. Look at you now!"

They stare at each other. Emily sighs, her newfound frankness winning over her reticence, "Remember the Saturdays when we tortured each other."

"Yes! So you remember, too! We would stare for a whole hour hardly ever saying anything." Karen says. "I would be so turned on when I left you, I'd change my panties.

"I'm known as Velvet Glove now--Velly, for short--you know for the band and all--but you can still call me Ms. Holder. It turns me on: 'Sit down, Ms. Holder and reflect on the week ahead when we trust you will study hard.'" Karen imitates the former Dean Hausenplat's pinched tones perfectly.

"I can say it now--I owe you. Without you being on my ass all the time, I might not have made it through college. For like months it seemed, you'd force me to be at your office 7 a.m. sharp every Saturday. I think it was hangover prevention or just to let me know you were checking on me..."

Karen sees Jenna coming toward them, she gets up and hugs her fiercely. "This is her! This is my crush!"

'Emily?" Jenna looks at her friend. "My little slut muffin is your crush?"

"Your little slut muffin is my Ms. Hausenplat!" Shrieks the girl, hugging Jenna again. "I am so impressed--you really get around, girl."

She knells back down next to Emily, pulling Jenna with her, and continues her recollection, "I told Jenna everything about us--she's my BFF: There we would be separated by that big wooden desk in your office. Me squirming, Ms. H staring, telling me to sit still. It was such torture, staring at you with a straight face across that desk."

"We sat together once," Emily says, her eyes a little misty. "You were so sad about losing your boyfriend. You cried and cried. I couldn't sit there and watch. I...I couldn't keep up the facade. I sat there next to you and hugged you. I was so tempted to kiss you!"

Jenna looks them wickedly, "Karen has a secret fancy, Ms. Hausenplat. She has been a bad, bad girl. She needs her punishment now."

"No! No!" says Karen, blushing. "Not that."

"Karen always wanted to be spanked, she was squirming because she kept getting excited about the thought of being bent over your knee." Jenna explains, she is holding onto Karen now, bending her toward Emily.

"Please!" Karen says, not struggling too hard as Jenna bends her over Emily's knees.

"You don't have to beg for it," Jenna teases, "I'm sure Emily is willing."

"Me?" Emily says feeling the girl's warm weight across her legs, seeing her pretty round bottom framed in the short short skirt, the shiny silk stockings glinting up at her like the devil's wink. (Her ass is so lovely!)

"Karen is a bad, bad girl. She has very bad thoughts about her dean! Tell her!" Jenna says and whacks Karen's bottom.

Emily feels Karen squirm and thinks back to the hours they spent staring at each other. She has been a bad girl, too. Always wondering about what it would be like to...

Jenna strokes Karen's bottom. "Isn't it inviting, Ms. Hausenplat? This is the girl that longed to be spanked by you. I bet you've had some secret thoughts yourself, my little slut muffin." Karen leans around and whispers in Jenna's ear. Jenna giggles, then she returns to stroking Karen's bottom, looking into Emily's wide eyes.

"I see temptation! I see the memory of all you wanted to do way back when!" Then she bends over and gleaming teeth rips the silk stockings apart, exposing the sweet mounds of Karen's bare bottom.

The other band members gather around eager to watch, shouting with glee, "Spank her! Spank her! Spank the bitch!"

Jenna takes off her own panty and sits on Janie's lap, which is at a convenient angle, allowing her legs to frame Karen's upturned face. Karen turns her head and looks at Emily. "I am a bad, bad girl. Spank me and I'll make your girl friend cum!"

Then she buries her face in between Jenna's wide spread legs, whose bent knees are pressed against Emily's thigh so that the three of them are fitted together, a perfect picture for desire and domination.