The Best Erotic Stories.

The Seminar
Seventeenth Installment in the "Latina" Series of Erotic Tales
by Latina
  

It was bad enough that Latina had been out of work for several months. At 49, she had long since reached that age when employers would pass her over for someone young and inexperienced, sacrificing the corporation's chance to acquire her expertise, just to save a few dollars on salary costs. At least she had been studying in state-funded computer training classes, to brush up on her skills for her next job. But now Frank had come home and announced that he, too, had been down-sized out of his comfortable corporate job. Being 44, he, too, would be passed over for younger job candidates; and already being a computer expert, Frank would not qualify for training classes, as Latina had.

It was a good thing that Latina had enrolled them both in weekly seminars about investment strategies. When either or both of them returned to work, they could use those strategies to build-up a financial cushion for themselves, against the next cycle of massive corporate down-sizing, which experience told them would be coming in about 3 to 5 years. They were learning a lot about investments in stocks, real estate, and many other areas, and about the importance of having at least 6 completely-different sources of income.

Latina and Frank had started to know a few of their fellow classmates in these Tuesday-night seminars, as well. One, named Jasmine, never seemed to be able to interest her husband in attending the seminars with her. It wasn't because he stayed home and watched the kids, as on several occasions, Jasmine had brought her two children with her, and had parked them in the back of the lecture hall. As they got to know Jasmine better, Frank and Latina imagined some horrible things about her husband, that perhaps he was out drinking and womanizing every night. They suspected that the truth was less shocking: he was probably just a workaholic, staying late every night at the office, not aware that he could be attending seminars, about how to free himself financially from the drudgery of corporate servitude. Or maybe he was just out bowling with his buddies.

Jasmine seemed to be a shy, and terribly lonely woman, in her late 20s to early 30s. Her apparent loneliness was too bad, for she was an exotic beauty, with a dark-tan complexion, and jet-black hair streaming down her back, to lightly caress the very top of her shapely derriere. Although they knew little about her, somehow, Frank and Latina instinctively sensed that Jasmine deserved a better relationship, than the one she had with her too-often- absent husband.

Then one week, after being out of work for three months, and after attending a dozen or more unsuccessful job interviews, Frank finally announced that he had a new job. As it was a Tuesday, that very evening, they had another of the weekly investment seminars. During the mid-meeting break, Jasmine approached Frank and Latina.

"You two seem to be in a much better mood today, than you've been in for the past few weeks. I could use some cheering-up myself tonight, so if it is not too personal, can you tell me what has put you two in such a cheery mood tonight? Maybe it will lift MY spirits, as well."

"Well," Latina chirped up, "Frank, here, just landed a new job, after being out of work for 3 months. It pays better than his old job, and is within walking distance of home. He couldn't ask for a better job than this."

Jasmine enthusiastically kicked up her right heel behind her, expressing that she shared their joy. She leaned in and planted kisses, first on Latina's cheek, and then on Frank's. Jasmine then wrapped her arms around them both, in a group hug.

"Thank you," Jasmine whispered. "It cheers me up, just to know that someone whom I know has good news."

"Why?" Latina asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just that my husband and I had another argument, about him not wanting to come to the seminar AGAIN tonight. He can't seem to understand the value of investing, and he doesn't make an effort to share an interest in the things that interest me. I'm just a little depressed about our fight is all, nothing very tragic, and I'll get over it. Thanks to you two and your good news, I'm feeling a little better already." Jasmine hugged Latina and Frank one last time, before all three returned to their seats.

The following Tuesday, a very promising job interview opened up for Latina. She studied the book that Frank had given her, on interview skills. She also brushed-up a bit on her computer skills, to be sure that she would be ready for this interview. She also decided that it wouldn't hurt, to dress to impress. She put on her gray pin-striped business suit. Her conservative skirt, although very business-like, DID end halfway between her upper-thigh and her knee, letting a little of the natural beauty of her dark, shapely, well-muscled Hispanic legs show, while letting her look classy, rather than trashy. Her matching gray pin-striped jacket emphasized the outline of her generous 38-C bosom, without being the least bit revealing. Her simple, white-cotton, front-buttoning blouse, revealed just a hint of cleavage. In this suit, Latina would maintain her air of professional dignity, and not let the interviewer be distracted enough to miss her well-thought- out answers to his tough interview questions. But she could also let the male interviewer see just enough, to indulge his typical male-pig fantasies a bit.

Her carefully-planned combination of savvy interview responses, and choice of wardrobe, did the trick: after just 30 minutes of conversation, the interviewer extended a job offer to Latina.

That night, Latina didn't have time to change before the seminar. In their pale-purple Lincoln Town Car, as she drove, Frank sat beside her, and he kept stealing glances at her legs. Noticing Frank's attention, she shifted in her seat, causing her miniskirt to ride a little higher up her thigh. Frank reached over, and he began stroking her legs in a soft-as-a-butterfly caress. His fingertips touched her so lightly, like a wind-blown wisp of a baby-bird feather, very briefly and casually brushing against her skin. Except Frank's fingers were giving her that marvelous touch over and over again, not just a one-time glancing brush of a feather. His touch felt so good, in fact, that Latina began to squirm in her seat, in anticipation of where his ever-so- light touch might explore next. Latina's squirming inadvertently caused her miniskirt to ride even higher up her naturally bronzed-toned thighs.

Seeing so much of his wife's thigh exposed now, Frank let his light finger-tip touch move higher up her toned legs. Then in one swift, practiced movement, his fingers stretched under her hemline, to stroke the outside of her skimpy purple-lace panties (Latina liked EVEYTHING to be purple: clothing, car, and especially a certain engorged feature of her man's anatomy). Latina drew in her breath, as she began to tingle from head-to-toe inside. Frank took this as a signal to snake his already-stretched fingers just that tiny bit further, to slide under the side band of her tiny triangular panties. Frank could already feel a very few drops of moist dew starting to form, right along the gates of her paradise, which were just starting to open up to his touch. But his fingers would not get to explore any further just yet: their Lincoln pulled into the parking space, and it was time for Latina to once more become prim and proper, as she smoothed-down her short hemline. Now Latina strode confidently into class, her expression devoid of any hint of what she and Frank had just been up to in their car.

When Frank and Latina entered, Jasmine was already seated. She had on a man's sleeveless white T-shirt, worn as a tank top, revealing the sides and tops of her breasts, and a good deal of her cleavage. Her arms were clasped together behind her head, revealing her arm-pits, and the full side outline of her breasts. She was evidently not wearing a bra, as her firm nipples pressed prominently against the ribbed white-cotton fabric. Her tight, red jogging shorts, revealed very long, strong, mocha-toned legs. Jasmine wore a very wide brown belt, which seemed to emphasize the slenderness of her waist. Her belt's brass buckle naturally drew one's eye to the very top center of her tight shorts, and then downward, to where those shorts so perfectly formed around, and hinted at, every detail of her mysterious, silky triangle just beneath. Frank and Latina silently bet each other whether there was any room for panties between Jasmine's pronounced pussy, and the tight fabric of her shorts. Frank bet that Jasmine was panty-less as well as bra-less.

Jasmine had kicked off her shoes, placed another chair turned-around facing her, and had her legs stretched-out in front of her, her bare feet and ankles comfortably resting on the seat cushion. Frank and Latina noticed a youngish man a few seats to Jasmine's right; he had a great side view of Jasmine's legs and breasts, and he kept stealing glances toward Jasmine. Latina pointed-out to Frank, that Jasmine would catch this young man looking, and Jasmine would smile suggestively at him. Now they both speculated whether her revealing outfit and pose might be for his benefit. Although she was married, Jasmine obviously had a less-than-perfect relationship. Was she, Frank and Latina whispered to each other, looking for a fling with this classmate, or just flirting with him to make herself feel sexier, more desirable?

Before they could find out for sure, the investment-seminar instructor strode in, and he began lecturing from his prepared notes. Jasmine and the young man temporarily suspended their antics, to focus on the lecture.

As the instructor droned-on in his flat monotone, Frank stole a glance down at Latina's legs. Although Latina was 20 years Jasmine's senior, Frank pondered, his wife still equaled or excelled the younger woman, when it came to shapely legs. Frank rested his open palm about halfway up Latina's thigh, and from time to time, he gave Latina's thigh a gentle and affectionate squeeze. Latina looked over at Frank and smiled. The top two buttons of Frank's shirt were open, revealing just a hint of his thick, dark, luxurious carpet of chest hair. Latina looked around to see that nobody was watching, and she quickly darted her hand inside her husband's shirt, feeling the light sheen of sweat against his chest hairs. When Latina saw Jasmine looking her way and smiling, she quickly withdrew her hand from Frank's chest, letting her hand rest casually on his knee. Jasmine lost interest in watching Frank and Latina then, and she turned her attention back to the lecturer.

Jasmine looked down at her own dark, creamy legs, stretched- out before her. She had been jogging every day, and applying moisturizer to her legs twice a day. The combination had left her legs slender, but shapely instead of stick-thin, while giving her dark, coffee-and-cream skin, a healthy glow. She had to admit, at 28, she still had sexy legs. So why hadn't her husband noticed her legs, or anything else about her, lately? When they had married 8 years ago, she was 20 and he was 25, and they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other. Now she was 28, he was 33 and a slave to the corporate board-room, and she was raising their two children all by herself. She knew that two pregnancies had not diminished her beauty. Still, Jasmine couldn't remember the last time that she and her husband had made love, and she wryly wondered whether he would be able to identify her dead body at a police morgue, as it had been so long since he'd seen or touched any part of her body.

Jasmine glanced down at her revealing tank top, and she wondered how a man who had once been so lustful toward her, could now ignore her still-splendid breasts. They were still round, firm, and high, with big, jutting nipples, so why didn't her husband touch them any more? Jasmine glanced over at the young man who had been eyeing her, and she noticed him suggestively licking his lips. His tongue DID seem extraordinarily long, and Jasmine wondered whether such a young man might already have the natural talent to use that long tongue, in a way that a lusty woman like her would appreciate.

While Jasmine was thus absorbed in her daydreams, Latina had slowly, playfully, mischievously, and almost unconsciously, started to inch her hand upward from Frank's knee. When Latina glanced at Frank again, she was surprised to see that she had moved her hand all the way up to the top of Frank's thigh. If she stretched her fingers out a little, Latina realized, she would be touching the fabric that was covering the very tip of his cock.

Just at that realization, Latina noticed Jasmine watching her again. Jasmine's pleased expression left no doubt, that she had noticed where Latina's hand was resting.

Jasmine squirmed a little uncomfortably in her seat, and she began absently gazing at the backs of her hands. Hands are such awkward things during a lecture, Jasmine pondered: where can you put them, where they will be out of your way? Folding her arms didn't seem comfortable, so Jasmine placed her hands palm-down on her bare legs. The young man two seats down, now quietly slid over to the unoccupied chair beside her, and whispered in Jasmine's ear, "I wish MY hands could be where yours are right now."

"Ohmygod," Jasmine panicked. "I had only wanted to have fun flirting with this guy. Now he wants to get into my pants. What have I encouraged?" Mostly, though, Jasmine was annoyed that this young guy had broken her dual focus on the lecture and her daydreams, so she whispered to him, with as much hostility as she could muster, "Go away!"

The young man seemed stunned and hurt by Jasmine's vehement negative response, and trying not to interrupt the lecture, he got up and walked to a seat as far away from Jasmine as possible. She wasn't sure, but Jasmine thought she heard the man mutter "bitch" as he slinked away.

With this distraction gone, Jasmine returned the focus of her hearing to the lecturer, and the focus of her vision to watching Latina tease Frank. Jsmine also finally figured out what to do with her hands: she thrust them both into the pockets of her jogging shorts. This got her awkward hands out of her way, and had the side benefit of letting her fingertips gently massage her dampening pussy, as she watched Frank and Latina continue to caress each other's legs. To everyone else, it would look like Jasmine simply had her hands in her pockets; Jasmine hoped that nobody in the class could notice where her fingers were REALLY stretching to, from her pockets.

As Jasmine watched, Frank and Latina kept moving their hands higher up each other's thighs, as if competing to see which of them could get away with the most risque behavior in class, without being caught.

Frank's hand rested in the lap of Latina's tight miniskirt. Latina's fingertips stretched, to lightly touch the zipper of Frank's trousers, and to feel what was just starting to stir underneath. Just then, the instructor announced a ten- minute break. A break was precisely what Frank, Latina, and Jasmine needed just then: a break to go pee away their growing horniness.

Jasmine approached Latina in the lady's room. "I couldn't help but notice you and your husband."

"Yes, I noticed you noticing us."

"You two seem to have a lot of love and respect for each other, not to mention a great deal of lust. Yet you're obviously not newlyweds any more. So tell me, what's your secret?"

"What do you mean?" Latina asked coyly.

"I mean," Jasmine replied, "my husband and I have been married for 8 years, and he probably hasn't even looked at me lustfully, much less touched me, in at least the past two years. How do you two keep the love, romance, and sexual energy turned up so high all the time?"

"When we met, we discovered we have the same interests, philosophies, and needs out of life. We were so in tune, that we started finishing each other's sentences by our third date. I guess it's easy to keep the energy up, when you start with such a kindred soul, with your soulmate."

"I just wish I had some of what you guys have," Jasmine replied.

"Hmmm," Latina muttered, a plan already starting to form in her mind. "Perhaps you shall." And with that, Latina smiled a mysterious smile, left the lady's room, and returned to her seat at Frank's side. Latina gave Frank's upper thigh a short, gentle, loving squeeze. Then she got up again, and moved to another chair, at the opposite side of Frank's table, facing Frank. Latina smiled at Jasmine, and she gestured for Jasmine to occupy the chair where Latina had just been sitting, beside Frank. Jasmine accepted the unspoken invitation. Frank looked quizzically at Latina, then at Jasmine. What gloriously pleasurable torture were these two ladies cooking up for him, Frank wondered.

Being such close soulmates, Latina always could read Frank's mind. "Relax, honey. We're not going to do anything to you. No manage a trois. Jasmine and I just want to talk. OK, sweetie?"

Frank returned his gaze to the speaker's podium, while his wife began some idle chit-chat with Jasmine. As the lecture began, and Latina and Jasmine paused their conversation, Frank distinctly felt a light tickle against his right ankle, as if a fly had landed on his sock. Instinctively, he rubbed the sole of his left shoe against his right ankle, to shoe the fly away. But then he realized this was no house fly: Frank felt his wife's shoeless, stocking- encased foot, rubbing against his ankle. Frank's left shoe returned to its place on the floor.

As Latina's stocking-clad foot inched its way up Frank's leg, Latina gazed at Jasmine, smiled, and licked her lips. Then Jasmine noticed Frank beginning to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Jasmine made a pretense of dropping her pencil under the table; bending down to retrieve it, Jasmine gazed under the table, to watch Latina's foot sexily inching its way up Frank's trouser leg. Perhaps Jasmine lingered under the table a moment or two longer than required to retrieve a pencil, and fearing that her classmates might wonder why she stayed under the table so long, Jasmine quickly sprang back up into her seat. Jasmine feared that her classmates might be thinking that her long stay under the table, had been to administer a blow-job to Frank; anyone thinking that was WRONG, of course. DEAD WRONG! At first, Jasmine was angry that anyone might think that's what had happened. But as she thought about it and thought about it, and began to almost obsess over it, Jasmine began to wonder what it might have felt like, to have been under the table for PRECISELY that purpose.

As Latina's stocking-covered foot reached Frank's knee, he let out a soft "Mmmm!" Thinking quickly, Jasmine came up with another pretense, and now she let her class workbook "accidentally" fall on the floor, under the table. Stooping to retrieve her book, Jasmine watched Latina's naughty foot, slowly working its way up Frank's thigh.

In her seat once more, Jasmine pushed her chair back, just enough to observe Latina's ongoing under-the-table shenanigans. When Latina's foot came to rest over Frank's zipper, Jasmine quickly thrust her hands back into the pockets of her jogging shorts, once more letting her outstretched fingertips lightly brush the dampening exterior of her bare pussy (Frank had been right: Jasmine had not worn panties under her tiny, tight shorts).

Latina looked over at Jasmine and smiled. "Are your hands having fun?" Latina whispered.

How did Latina know, Jasmine wondered. Jasmine let her hands play with herself more vigorously, now that her secret was out, and she no longer had anything to hide.

Latina's toes now began wiggling rhythmically against Frank's crotch. He struggled to keep his moans quiet, so as not to attract the attention of his classmates. But he knew that Jasmine, seated beside him, could hear him. Somehow, Frank didn't mind Jasmine vicariously sharing in this private, intimate moment with his wife, even though he was not an exhibitionist, and he had no interest in a threesome.

Jasmine turned sideways in her seat now, to get a better view of the sexual drama unfolding beside her. Jasmine licked her lips, as she watched Frank's now-pronounced bulge, growing longer and wider in his trousers, in response to Latina's toes massaging him there.

Just then, Jasmine felt a slight pressure against her own ankle, and it took Jasmine a few moments to realize, that Latina's other foot was beginning its upward migration against Jasmine's own bare leg. Jasmine was amazed at how good Latina's smooth, black stocking felt to her, as it rubbed its way up her bare leg, finally coming to rest at the hem of her extremely-short shorts.

Jasmine sucked in her breath, and she sat icily still, in anticipation of Latina's next move. After a brief pause, Latina slid her stockinged foot up Jasmine's inner thigh, to rest directly over the zipper of Jasmine's running shorts. Now Latina was wiggling the toes of her right foot against Frank's crotch, while at the same time wiggling the toes of her left foot against Jasmine's pussy. All of this was certainly not without an effect on Latina herself, who began shifting uncomfortably in her own chair, at her own gathering interior dampness, brought on by the realization of the pleasure that her feet were bringing to both her husband and their sex-starved classmate. With the table top to hide her, Latina now felt no inhibitions at all, about letting her fingertips slip beneath the waist of her gray miniskirt, and inside of her tiny purple-lace panties, to lightly brush her thick, dark forest of pubic thatch.

"Do me a favor?" Latina breathlessly whispered across the table to Jasmine.

"Sure," Jasmine eagerly replied. By now, Latina's foot felt TOO good against the crotch of her jogging shorts, for Jasmine to refuse Latina ANY request.

"Unzip Frank's pants for me, so my foot can play with him directly."

Jasmine had never seen, much less touched, another man's cock before, other than her husband's. And Frank wasn't too keen on letting any other woman, besides his wife (his soulmate), touch him there, either. Both voiced strong objections to Latina's request.

"I don't want Jasmine to TOUCH it," Latina sweet-talked. "I just want her to make it more accessible to MY touch." After several minutes of pleading her case, Latina finally swayed a reluctant Frank and Jasmine. Trying very hard not to make contact with Frank's long, thick, pulsating masculinity, Jasmine gently grasped Frank's zipper, and she hastily yanked Frank's zipper downward.

Jasmine very quickly withdrew her hand, giving Latina's foot completely unobstructed access to him now. As Latina's stocking rubbed against his exposed cock, Frank fought to stifle his moans, which were growing louder and more frequent. Jasmine's curiosity finally overcame her, and she could no longer help but to turn and gaze at Frank's love monster, pulsating against Latina's foot. She thought it looked quite nice: long, thick, red, with a large, reddish- purple, mushroom-shaped head. Frank's 8 inches looked far sexier than her own husband's puny 4 inches. And at two inches across, Frank's was the widest that Jasmine had EVER seen. Jasmine imagined that it must feel WONDERFUL to have your pussy stretched around such a wide shaft. No WONDER Latina seemed to crave Frank all the time! Jasmine wondered if Latina ever sucked on it. Then Jasmine began to wonder what Frank might feel like in her OWN mouth, and if she could even take that much length down her throat.

Jasmine's daydreams were interrupted, as Latina greatly increased the pressure of her left foot against Jasmine's crotch. Latina wiggled her toes back down to Jasmine's upper thigh, then slid her toes UNDER the hem of Jasmine's shorts, to make direct contact onto Jasmine's already slicked-up pussy.

Jasmine let out a very loud moan. Then, as her classmates started to turn toward her, Jasmine hastily clamped her hand over her own mouth, to stifle any further verbal outbursts of pleasure.

"Do you like how that feels?" Latina asked, already knowing the answer.

"Ummm-HUMMM!" Jasmine dreamily agreed, teetering on the very edge of her first orgasm in over two years.

"Would you like me to do more of this?"

"Mmmmm-hmmmmMMMM!" Jasmine again agreed, from the midst of her misty daydreams.

Latina turned to Frank. "Frank, be a dear and-"

"Unzip her shorts?" Frank asked, turning to face Jasmine.

"You jewel!" Latina whispered. "You always know EXACTLY what I want."

With that confirmation, Frank eagerly unzipped Jasmine's shorts. Maybe it was an accident, maybe subconsciously it was on purpose, but Frank's fingertips now brushed up against Jasmine's already wide-open pussy lips. Jasmine jumped in surprise, moaned loudly, then settled into her seat, squirming, writhing, and thrashing in her growing desire. Frank looked at Jasmine and smiled, and made quite a show out of licking the thick beads of her moisture, off of his sticky fingers.

Seeing what had just happened, Latina moved in for the attack, sliding her foot through Jasmine's now-opened shorts, and letting her toes wiggle all over the outside of Jasmine's pleasure center. Latina briefly let her big toe slide into Jasmine's juicy slit, then decided to concentrate all of her toes on massaging Jasmine's excited clit. Latina knew she was doing something right, as she could feel Jasmine's clit lengthening and stiffening against the toes of her stocking.

Meanwhile, Latina was not ignoring her husband, either. The balls of her toes continued to glide lightly and effortlessly, up and down the entire rigid length of his rhythmically-pulsing, 8-inch long, 2-inch thick shaft.

Frank and Jasmine looked into each other's eyes and smiled, at the pleasure they were sharing, thanks to Latina's selfless efforts on them both. They both gazed at each other's bare, sexy, and inviting organs, and at Latina's stocking-encased feet ministering to both of their needs. The risk, that they could be caught at any moment, only heightened the pleasure. As Jasmine and Frank continued to gaze admiringly at each other's crotch, Latina moved in for the final thrill, rubbing her right big toe against the slit in the head of Frank's rock-solid, two-inch-thick cock, while at the same time pressing her left big toe, directly onto Jasmine's horny, throbbing clit.

Suddenly, Latina withdrew her feet from both crotches. Frank and Jasmine once more gazed dreamily into each other's eyes, smiled, then dropped their gaze back into each other's crotch, just in time to watch themselves simultaneously explode into powerful, soaking-wet orgasms, love juices gushing forcefully out of them both, soaking their thighs and their chairs.

Seeing the look of sheer joy on both Frank's and Jasmine's faces, Latina realized that they were both in the process of coming. So she quickly returned her feet to both of their crotches, just in time to feel their second round of explosions warmly squishing between her stocking-covered toes.

Frank and Jasmine smiled at Latina, simultaneously mouthing a silent "Thank You" to her. Feeling the gush of released horniness simultaneously soaking both of her feet, Latina hurriedly slid her middle finger (which was already playing beneath the waist-band of her tiny, nearly-transparent purple panties), down into the inside of her pussy, letting the underside of her knuckle stroke her clit, as her fingertip massaged her inner walls. Within seconds, Latina was arching herself backward in her chair, thrusting her pelvis skyward, as she crammed her middle finger ever- deeper inside of herself. Then Latina came. And came. And came.

Latina watched, as Frank and Jasmine lovingly zipped each other up, letting their fingertips wander into each other's fresh, warm come in the process, then licking their own come of each other's fingers. At the same time, Latina adjusted her wet purple panties, and she smoothed down her own gray pin-striped mini-skirt, hoping that no wet spots showed through.

Only moments later, the lecturer concluded the week's investment tips. Students hastily gathered up their notes and workbooks, pushed out of their chairs, and hurriedly filed past the lusty trio. How many of them knew, or suspected, the crotch-dampening adventures that Frank, Latina, and Jasmine had just shared?

 

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